Page 161 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“For what?”

Oh, how little imagination men have sometimes.

“For a striptease, silly boy.”

“A striptease?” he asks, open-mouthed.

I say yes.

“I’ve never really performed one for you.”

My guy raises his eyebrows, sprawls in the Jacuzzi, and nods delightedly.

I go change the CD. Moments later, music begins to play, and, recognizing it, Eric claps and laughs.

Start the show!

Tom Jones’s sultry voice begins to sing “Sex Bomb” and, without an iota of shame, I wiggle to the beat of the music. I slide off my huge jacket and throw it aside. Eric whistles. After that comes the helmet. I toss my hair in the purest Hollywood way. Eric applauds and whistles again, and I cheer as I sing.

Piece by piece, I strip off the firefighter’s outfit while my sweetheart gazes at me just the way I like: with desire. I know he’s loving this. His expression and the intensity of his look give him away. I dance; I shimmy. When I’m finally naked, I get in the Jacuzzi. Eric kisses me.

“I love you, my little stripper.” He reaches for my breasts. “These are the nicest ever.”

That makes me laugh. Actually, pregnancy has made my breasts incredible. Every time I look at them in the mirror, I love them more, but I know that when Medusa comes, they’ll disappear.

Excited by the show I’ve offered him, my love grabs me by the waist and sits me on top of him in the Jacuzzi. He penetrates me gently while he murmurs in my ear.

“You really are a sex bomb, sweetheart.”

“Yes...and that bomb is about to explode.”

Eric grins and, when I go to hold on to the Jacuzzi to better position myself on him, he stops me.

“Let me, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me.”

“Careful, sweetheart...slowly.”

But I don’t want care or slow. I want passion and force.

“Jude...,” he scolds me.

“Eric...,” I scold him back.

My German looks at me, stops, and spoils our beautiful moment.

“Jude, either you do it carefully so as not to hurt yourself, or we’re not doing anything.”

I have two options: I can get angry and send him out for a walk or accept his caution.

I decide on the second option. I want sex!

I let him set the pace. I let him limit himself and limit me, and although we have a good time, when we reach our climax, I know we both missed our wild side.

When we go to bed that night, he kisses me and tenderly hugs me.

“I love you, sex bomb.”

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