Chapter 5

Dawn’s light roused Ron. April had rolled away from him during the night and lay with her back to him, her arms around her pillow. He regarded her shoulder blade and her colorful hummingbird tattoo.

He kissed her shoulder and she stirred. April rolled to face him. Ron lay on his back, coaxed her against him and began stroking the side of her breast. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?

“Very well considering this is an unfamiliar bed.”

“Well ... let’s hope it doesn’t remain unfamiliar to you for long.” He kissed her hair, nuzzled her scalp and inhaled her scent.

“We should get up and have some breakfast,” she said.

“Why, are you hungry?”

“No, but you are.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are. Remember...”

Ron drew in a breath. “Yes, I usually have a muffin by now. Okay -- I’m hungry but not so hungry that I’d get out of bed.”

“That’s more like it...” she cuddled tighter against him and he continued stroking her.

“Do you know what I’d like to do?” he asked.

“Mmm ... I have an idea.”

Ron worked his finger along her breast until he located her nipple. He continued to stroke it and it began to from his touch. “I’d like to get to know your pussy better. Remember -- we have all day to have breakfast or do whatever.”

He coaxed April atop him. She lifted up on her elbows and he began stroking her breasts and massaging her nipples with his thumbs. “Feel good?”

“It’s good for you,” she said. “I can feel your arousal.”

“How about you?”

“Feels nice ... I like...”

Ron eased her onto her back. He began caressing her abdomen, leaned down and tongued her navel. “I love that belly,” he said.

“Why?”

“Do you know what I like best about your body?” he asked.

“What?”

“That I can’t count your ribs. I know they’re there...” He stroked her sides. “I can feel them. But I can’t see them ... because they’re covered with a delightful layer of femininity.”

“I was going to use a different F-word,” she replied. “A four-letter one.”

“What four-letter F-word?”

“Flab.”

He lay his cheek against her stomach, caressed her abdomen and fingered her navel. “You should’ve seen my sister at the end. She looked worse than pictures you see during a famine. She was, honestly, nothing but skin and bones. I know some guys think the anorectic look it hot. I don’t -- I think you’re hot. I don’t ever want to see another loved one look like she did.” He kissed her belly and then stroked her face and kissed her lips. “In my eyes, your body telegraphs healthy and feminine. Do we have that straight?”

April nodded. “I understand.”

Ron ran his hands along her legs. “I love those thighs, too...”

“For the same reason?”

“I love your shape, April. It’s a shape a woman should have. I think it’s perfection.” He stroked her pubic patch with the backs of his fingers. “You have such a nice bush -- very sexy. Not too full, not too trimmed. Do you trim it?”

“Only enough to keep it corralled where it belongs,” she replied, “in case I ever decide to wear a bathing suit.”

“It’s lovely...” Ron eased her thighs apart. He ran his finger between her labia. Then, he parted them and slipped two fingers inside her. He began stroking the roof of her vagina. “How does this feel?”

“It feels okay.”

“I was thinking ... I want to see if I can give you a G-spot orgasm.”

“Forget it. I can’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a G-spot,” she replied.

“Have you tried?”

She sighed. “Yes, Ron ... and you’re not the first guy to go looking for it, either.” She regarded him. “I’m sorry that bothers you, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ve done some reading on the topic. The G-spot’s really the root tissue of your clitoris ... it comes down and wraps around your vagina. If I can stimulate it in the right place...”

“What you’re doing feels nice. I need stimulation outside in order to have one.”

He rested his left hand against her mons and slipped his finger against her clitoral glans. “Do you mean something like this?”

“Yes. That will do it. Mmm...”

Ron continued stroking her inside while working his fingertip against her glans. He glanced toward her face. Her eyes were closed and she rested her hand against her sternum, stroking her nipple with her thumb. “Mmm ... It’s feeling really good.”

Ron worked both hands into a rhythm. Then he lifted his left hand from her mons and caressed her belly as he stroked her inside with his right. “Why did you stop?” she asked. “I was almost there.”

“I thought you were. I wanted to see if I could get you the rest of the way like this.”

“I was almost there and now it’s slipping away,” she said. “It’s going to frustrate me.”

He replaced his left hand onto her mons and resumed stroking her glans. “How’s this?”

“Mmm ... better...”

“Can you get it back?”

“I’m trying...” She closed her eyes and he could see the look of concentration on her face. April began stroking her nipple again. “Can you go a little faster?” Ron upped his cadence. “Mmm ... It’s building ... starting to feel good again ... Please don’t stop.”

“Okay -- I won’t stop.”

He watched as her muscles relaxed and her face rolled to the side. Her lips parted and her breathing deepened into panting, her belly and breasts heaving. “Oh!” she gasped. “More!” Ron rubbed her glans hard and fast while stroking her inside. April’s thighs began to quiver. She arched her back and moaned.

Ron lifted his left hand from her mons but continued to stroke her inside with his right. “Maybe,” he said, “now that you’ve had one you can have more with me stroking you inside.”

“Maybe,” she panted.

“Have you tried that before?”

She shook her head. “Uh-unh.” He watched her ribs heave, but her breathing was slowing. “It’s not working,” she said.

“Let’s give it a chance.”

She reached down and grasped his hand. “You’re getting tired ... and you’re getting frustrated.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can feel it, Ron -- and it’s interfering with my ability to respond.”

Ron withdrew his fingers. April rolled away from him and pulled the sheets over her shoulders. “Now you’re angry with me,” she said. He heard her sniffling.

“What’s the matter?” he asked and placed his hand on her shoulder.

She jerked away. “It always happens like this,” she replied. “I didn’t expect it so soon with you.”

He lay on his back and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, April. I just wanted to see...”

“Why was it so important that I have a G-spot orgasm?” she asked. “What difference is it to you?”

“I was thinking about last night -- how I thought we were coming together. You told me it was mine you felt. Then, it dawned on me -- if it were possible for us to have simultaneous orgasms ... what a mind-blowing experience it would be for you. You know -- combining my sensations with yours...”

“I guess I understand. Your heart’s in the right place. Why couldn’t you just take my word for it that I can’t have one?”

“I guess ... I don’t know. It must have something to do with my ego. I’m beginning to realize what impact your ... talent must have on relationships. Like most men, I possess a rather large and fragile ego. It struck me how much of a relationship is each partner caring for and feeding the other’s ego.”

“Interesting...”

“For example, let’s say we’re going out to some event -- a party or nice restaurant. You went out and had your hair done, but you came away dissatisfied with the result, so you ask me for my opinion. Ordinarily...”

“Ordinarily, you’d pay me some hollow compliment...”

“Yeah, I probably would ... not because I liked your hair, but because I wanted to boost your ego. You would perceive it as deception.”

“That’s right.”

“So, I need to go counter to my instinct and tell you, yeah they did a lousy job. You’d perceive that as the truth, but you wouldn’t want to go out with your hair looking bad. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

“Yes -- you’re beginning to understand this curse of mine and why it’s fatal to a relationship. It’s the accumulation of deception and frustration and anger...”

“Wait a minute ... What are you feeling from me, now?”

“Frustration, still. Not quite so much anger.”

“You told me you can’t read minds -- you can’t decipher thoughts.”

“That’s right.”

“You feel my frustration but you don’t know why. You can only make assumptions.”

“Yes, but it’s not hard to figure out why you’re frustrated.”

“Which is?”

“You’re frustrated with my inability to have a G-spot orgasm. You’re angry because your idea didn’t work.”

“You’re wrong.”

April rolled onto her back. “You’re right -- I’m wrong. I felt a glimmer of triumph when you said that. Tell me, then ... why are you frustrated?”

“I was frustrated and angry with myself for not understanding the depth of your ability and what it means. And, you know that’s the truth.”

“Yes -- I sense truth in it.”

“It seems you have a rather large and delicate ego, too. It’s okay, April. I think most of us do. I think extinguishing one’s ego requires more enlightenment than most of us can muster.”