I mean, you’ve basically gone from the girl who said she’d never sleep with me—”
“I still feel guilty about that.”
“—to the one who wants me to tie her up and drip candle wax on her.”
“Mmm, yes, please.”
“Who cares if it’s another few weeks or even a month before you’re ready to go all the way?”
“Ugh! I hope not. I want it to happen now. Like, tonight.”
“When you’re ready,” I chuckled. “When you ask.”
She nodded glumly but then adjusted her attitude again. “Something I can ask now…” She caressed my face and urged me down for a kiss. Then she said with quiet intensity, “Please, sir, tie me up and use me. Any way you like.”
My eyebrows rose with a question.
“No, not like that.” She rolled her eyes. “Duh. Not till I’m ready. Not till I ask. But you can do everything else. Spank me, choke me, drip wax on me.
Come in my mouth, on my face, on my body. Do anything you want. I’m
yours to use as you please.”
Christy poured a generous amount of whiskey into her glass and immediately drank half of it. I’d filled the bath and climbed in first for a change, so I admired her body from the warmth of the tub. The skin around her nipples was pink from where I’d dripped wax on her, along with a trail of pink splotches that led down her stomach to her shaved pubic area.
She drained the whiskey in her glass and then poured more. “I need something to settle my nerves or I’ll never get to sleep,” she said as she climbed over the edge of the tub and sank into the water. She scooted back and reclined against my chest. “Not nerves in a bad way,” she added. “But I’m so tingly right now I could go all night.”
“Never thought I’d find a girl who’d wear me out,” I said with a grin. She flinched when I unconsciously teased her nipple. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “Normally I don’t mind, but… maybe let them recover a bit.”
“I will. And that reminds me: we need a safe word. We can’t keep doing this unless we have a way for you to tell me to stop, for real.”
“Why not just use ‘stop’?”
“You’re supposed to beg me to stop as part of the act. I won’t, because I’m ‘forcing’ you. But how’m I supposed to know the difference between stop-don’t-stop and stop-for-real? So it has to be a word you wouldn’t normally say, especially during sex. Like… I dunno…”
She had a thought and laughed. “‘Bacon.’ Does that work? I mean, if I ever ask for bacon, you know something’s wrong.”
“Okay, ‘bacon’ it is.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever say it, though. I know this is gonna sound weird, but the harder you spank me, the hotter I get. The more the wax stings, the more I get worked up.”
“I could tell. And I think I’m getting a handle on your mini-orgasms. You tense up and hold your breath for a few seconds. Sometimes you squeak, like when you stretch in the morning. You get hotter and wetter, too, although your clit doesn’t get sensitive.”
“No. That only happens with the big ones, when you really rock my
world.” She had another thought and took a sip of whiskey to cover a soft laugh. “Back when school first started,” she mused, “I never imagined we’d be sitting nude in the bath talking about sex like this. You’re right, I really have changed since then.”
“We both have.”
She fingered her gold cross. “I know. Thank you.” She thought about it some more and said, “I… like the way I’ve changed. Marianne says we’re still in our honeymoon phase, but I can’t think of a thing I’d do different.”
“That’s sort of the point of calling it a ‘honeymoon phase,’” I chuckled.
“Everything’s perfect.”
“Laugh all you like,” she said. “I’m serious, though. I love everything about you, even the really weird and kinky things.”
“Like me and Erin?”
“Exactly.”
“Well,” I said after a moment to work up my courage, “I’ve been thinking about that since we talked. I— Hold on.” I took a healthy swig of Dutch courage. It burned going down and made me think twice about what I was going to say. I decided to anyway. “There’s more to the story than just a fantasy.”
Christy sat up when she felt my penis twitch. “Oh my gosh, there is!”
“Treacherous organ,” I muttered.
She laughed and turned to face me. Then she took a sip of whiskey and set her glass on the little table so she could use both hands. Her eyes danced as she reached between us and massaged my nascent erection.
“I’ve also been thinking about the things you’ve told me,” I continued doggedly.
“Oh? What about them?”
“You trust me enough to share—”
“I do. Totally.”
“—but… it hasn’t exactly been a two-way street.”
Her brow furrowed. “How d’you mean?”
“Well, I admit things once you figure them out. I confirm your suspicions. But I haven’t volunteered anything new.”
“So? I mean, I don’t feel like it’s one-sided.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I want to tell you something. And… this is really hard for me. Harder than I thought it’d be.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Never mind. Forget I said
that,” she added with a grin. “Now I’m curious.” Then her grin faded and she grew concerned. “You really are scared, aren’t you? I can tell.”
“I don’t know why. No, I know why, but I’m pretty sure I know how you’ll react, so I shouldn’t be scared. But still… I am.”
She released my flaccid manhood and leaned forward to look me in the eyes. “Nothing you say will ever scare me. Not now, not ever. I promise.”
“Thank you.” I took a deep, slow breath. “Okay, here goes. Erin and I have done more than just watch each other.”
“Oh my gosh,” Christy said softly, and I couldn’t tell if it was disgust or disbelief. I shouldn’t have worried. “For real? Like, sex things? I knew it! I just had this feeling, but I didn’t want to ask. I mean, that isn’t the sort of thing you ever ask, except when you do. But you know what I mean. Oh my gosh!”
“You said that already,” I said dryly.
“Well, what’m I supposed to say? ‘Oh, that’s disgusting’? ‘I can’t believe I ever thought of marrying you’?” She scoffed derisive and dismissive. “Just how goody-goody do you think I am? Never mind, don’t answer that.”
I grinned.
“Seriously. You already told me you want to sleep with her. What’s the difference between wanting and doing?”
“You tell me,” I said. “You want to have sex with me, but you can’t bring yourself to actually do it.”
“That’s different,” she said with a flutter of fingers. “That’s just me and my mixed-up head. I’m Catholic. I’m supposed to be mixed-up. But you aren’t. You’re also a man. You’re supposed to sleep with every woman you can.”
“I don’t know about that. But still, this is my sister we’re talking about.”
“Have you actually slept with her?” she said all of a sudden. “Gone all the way? What was it like? More than once? How often? When? Not since you and I—?”
“Whoa, there! Slow down. I’ll tell you, but I have to do it my way.”
She practically buzzed with excitement.
“No, we haven’t slept together. Although we have a pretty long history of fooling around. Mostly blowjobs.”
“I never would’ve guessed,” Christy deadpanned. Then she grinned.
“Sorry. Keep going.”
“Yeah… um… okay. So, blowjobs. She likes them a lot. Almost as much
as you.”
“That’s what she said.”
“And I’ve returned the favor.”