You took me to dinner that night, and as I sat across the table from you, I realized it was the first time we'd ever done this: gone on a date. I pressed my foot against yours and smiled and you smiled back.

"Champagne?" you asked, pouring me a generous serving without waiting for an answer.

"Are you trying to liquor me up, sir?" I asked, playfully.

You scoffed. "Why would I need to do that? I know you'll put out for me."

Heat raced up my neck when you said that. Oh yes. I would put out for you alright.

You ordered us food in French, and when it came, it smelled like butter and warm grain, and I couldn't think of a time in my life when I had ever been happier.

"So, I bared my soul to you last night," you said, cutting into a piece of meat that was so rare that red liquid flowed out of it at the touch of your knife and fork. "I want to hear your side of the story."

I laughed down at the table. "My side of the story?"

You chewed and nodded, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yes. I sort...suspected...early on that you..." You couldn't seem to say the words.

"Wanted to bone you?"

You snorted. "Yes, to put it gently."

I took a bite of my pasta and grinned at him. "You were pretty much my sexual awakening."

You choked on your food and reached for your water glass. Your eyes darted around the restaurant before landing on me. "Don't say that. You'll get me hard in the middle of this restaurant, and then I won't be able to leave. They'll have to turn off all the lights, and I'll just be sitting here alone in the dark with my erection."

I giggled and bit my lip. "I would never leave you alone with an erection. What a waste."

You grinned at me. "But honestly, Lena. Tell me."

I put down my fork and let the humor ease out of my chest. "I guess I suspected as soon as we met. I mean, what fifteen-year-old isn't at some point attracted to an older man? I figured it was nothing. But then I couldn't stop thinking about you, couldn't wait to see you again. You were so kind to me that first night. You--"

I paused. I felt, suddenly, like every wall I'd ever built against the world was crumbling down.

"What?" you asked, your voice quiet, soft.

"You saw me." I looked up at you, and you looked right back. "You listened to me. Before that night, nobody had ever really done that before. Even after, people never seemed to hear me when I told them what I wanted. You were the first person who ever took me seriously when I said out loud what I liked."

Across the table, your eyes lingered on me. "I think what you want and what you like are some of the most wonderful things. I want to help you get everything you want in life, Lena."

"I'm already halfway there. I have you."

You looked back and forth between my eyes. "I love you."

I felt that spark under my skin that I got every time you said it. "I love you, too." I slipped off my shoes and perched my feet on the booth beside your hip. "So why is your mom such a bitch?"

You laughed and shook your head. "She's not normally so bad. She just had it in her head that you were some kind of gold-digging hussy, and that we were going to fuck for a little while and then get tired of each other."

I licked sauce off my fork. "Well, she was right about the fucking."

You laughed again. "After you left, I felt gutted. I felt like I'd been flayed open. I told her I wouldn't be coming back until she apologized and until you were welcome to return with me. I'll still fly in as often as I can to see my dad."

I frowned over at you. "I didn't get to meet him."

You nodded sadly. "And out of the two of them, I'm certain he's going to adore you. He'll think you're funny and kind and good for me. He always thought I was too serious."

I put my hand over yours on the table. "I can't wait to meet him."

When you looked up at me, your eyes were wet, and I wanted to comfort you, but you just blinked the tears away and smiled. "I don't even know what he saw in my mother all those years ago. I have this suspicion that they started to hate each other after I was born. I don't have any siblings, so I think I was pretty much the last of their affection toward each other."

I pushed my food around on my plate. "Seems like a pretty sad way to go through life."

You traced a finger along mine on the table. "It doesn't have to be that way," you said, and I knew you were talking about us by the way you smiled.

We walked all the way back to the hotel under the stars, but the jet lag was really starting to catch up with me. I could feel the soreness, the ache in my bones, the kind of deep exhaustion that comes with crossing oceans.

But back in the hotel room, I watched you take off your jacket and then unbutton the cuffs of your shirt, and I had to have you.

"Back in New Haven, you said you thought about me before we were together." I pressed my back to the door and watched as you kept moving, unbuttoning your shirt with practiced movements.

"I thought about you all the time," you said without looking at me. "I felt so comfortable around you."

"No," I said, interrupting you, even though this was definitely something I wanted to hear another time. "Did you think about me in ways you shouldn't have?"

You stopped unbuttoning your shirt and turned toward me. I reached behind me while you watched and pulled down the zipper on my dress. "What did you think about?"

Your eyes followed one of my straps as it slipped off my shoulder. I saw your throat move as you swallowed. "I thought about a lot of things."

"Did you touch yourself?"

You exhaled and my dress slipped down to settle at my hips. I wasn't wearing a bra. You nodded. "Regularly."

"While thinking about me?" I pushed my dress to the floor, standing before you in just my underwear.

"Yes."

"Show me."

Your eyes flickered up to mine. "What?"

I bit my lip. I'd wanted this for a long time, wanted to see you wrap your hand around yourself and close your eyes and groan my name. I'd heard it, over the phone, but never seen it. I slid one hand into my panties, dipping down to brush my clit, and I saw your jaw work as you ground your teeth together. "I want to watch you jerk off."

Your lips parted, your eyes glued to what my hand was doing. I swirled my fingers around my clit and moaned. "Show me," I said again.

You didn't bother finishing with the buttons on your shirt. You reached down to undo your pants, and I moaned again when you pulled out your cock, thick and hard, through the opening in your pants. I hadn't thought this part through. All I really wanted to do was get on my knees in front of you and suck you off until you came in my mouth. I wanted to taste your salt and your sweat and your pheromones.

You sat down at the desk by the window, gripping your cock in your fist, and I knew that if I just applied a little more pressure, I could come right now, watching the way you slouched so easily in the chair, running your fist up and down your thick cock. I trembled.

"Tell me what you would think about," I said, going to sit on the edge of the bed. "Tell me what would always got you off the fastest."

You squeezed your eyes shut and jerked yourself faster. "I couldn't," you said. "I couldn't tell you."

I stared at you, watched, fascinated, as you reached down and cupped your balls. You liked that, I could tell in the way your breathing sped up. Noted.

"Did I spread my legs for you?" I was slick now, so wet I could hear my fingers moving. I shoved my panties off and let them fall to the carpet, and when I touched my bare skin, your eyes were on my fingers, watching as I stroked myself. I watched you too, watched your pre-cum glisten at the tip of your perfect penis.

You groaned and gripped yourself hard. I wanted to do that for you. With my fingers and my tongue and my mouth. With my pussy.

You shook your head, finally, and I grimaced. "Did I get on my knees for you?"

You made a choking sound, and your hand moved faster, your dick turning red and then slightly purple, and I reached up with wet fingers to tug on my nipples. I wanted to hear you talk dirty, I wanted to hear about your fantasies, but fuck, I didn't know how much longer I could wait.

When I looked back at you, you were shaking your head.

"What did I do?" I asked. I was too far gone. I wanted to see you, but I was lost in the feel of my own fingers. I moved lower and shoved two fingers into my pussy, crying out at how good it felt. I could hear your hand moving, and when I looked, I realized I was almost as in love with your dick as I was with you. I wanted to swallow it whole.

You bit your lip and groaned, and I finger fucked myself harder, wanting so bad for it to be you. "Tell me, baby," I whispered, on the edge of coming all over myself. "Tell me what you thought about."

I thought you would refuse again. Your eyes met mine, and I knew that whatever it was, you thought it was too much. Your hand slowed for a second, and you said, "Your ass."

My fingers slowed too, the need to come cooling just a little. "My ass? Like, you want to spank me?" I slipped my fingers inside my pussy deep. I'd never been interested in the idea of spanking, but for you, I'd do anything.

But you shook your head, your hand rising up to your head once. You palmed the head of your cock, and I started to fuck myself again, helpless. My juices were running down my thighs.

And I knew. Oh God, I knew what you wanted, and just the thought had me squirming on the bed. "You want to fuck my ass?" I asked.

Your eyes had gone wide, your hand speeding up, but I shook my head. "Don't come," I said, just as I went over the edge, throwing my head back, unable to stop imagining it, you bending me over, wetting me with my own juices, shoving your cock in my ass.

I screamed, coming harder than I ever had by myself. I fell back on the mattress, wanting to just fall asleep, wanting to just let you put your arms around me. But oh God, I wanted to watch you come. I pushed up onto my elbows, and you were still there, your cock purple-tipped, waiting.

I turned over and bent over the edge of the bed. I heard you let out a shuddering breath behind me, and I looked over my shoulder. Your eyes were locked on my asshole, and I swear, I felt like I had unlocked this secret inside of you that I never could have imagined.

In the sexiest act I'd ever seen you perform, you took your hand off your cock, lifted it to your mouth, licked it from palm to fingertip, and then wrapped it around your cock again.

Holy fuck. I put my hand back between my legs. I was a little sore from everything we'd done the past few days, but I could replay that movement over and over and come just from that.

I swiped my fingers across my wet lips and then moved further, pressing them to the tight entrance of my asshole.

I'd never done anything like that before. I'd never had anal sex, never touched myself there, never had anyone ask to do anything like that. But the idea was exciting. I was bent at an odd angle, and I had to press my cheek to the blanket to see you over my shoulder, to see your lidded eyes as you jerked yourself.

And then I pressed one finger in, feeling it like a shock to my whole system, and while I watched, you shouted fuck and came all over your hand. I watched, refusing to blink or look away, as your cum spilled down to your legs. God, I would never get over how fucking hot you were.

You wiped your hand on your shirt and wouldn't meet my eye. I could tell you were embarrassed, but I knew that with time, I could make you realize you never had to be ashamed of anything with me.

I tucked my arms around myself and smiled at you. "John."

Your eyes moved up to me, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

"I want to do that with you."

Your cock pulsed, and I knew I could ask you to fuck me right now, right here, to put your cock in my ass and show me why you liked the idea so much. But I was exhausted.

"Really?" you asked, and you sounded so unsure of yourself. "You don't think it's...gross?"

I knew from the way you asked that you'd shared this desire with other women and that maybe all of them had said those exact words to you.

But I just shook my head. "I want to give you everything."