THE SEX REBEL OF JESUSLAND, mini-chapter 62

62. Pillow talk

Adam observed Eve’s orgasm with amazement. Her incredible reaction drove him crazy, but he held himself back. Never had he seen a woman react like this. It made him proud and happy. Look what you did, boy, he told himself – you’re capable of giving vast pleasure to someone else in a selfless way. How come it took you so long to discover you had it in you?

Eve couldn’t stop her tears. They were flowing for her, for Ezra, for Rachel, for everything that had happened to suppress the longing in her, for all the pain and yearning and ache of the last fifteen years.

“Why are you crying?” Adam asked.

“Because I’m happy,” she replied.

He smiled. “I want to make you laugh.”

So he did it again. And again. When she asked him to stop, he did it one more time, and this time she laughed with pleasure, and he took a break.

“There’s something about you that makes me put your needs before mine,” he said. “I don’t want to stop until you’re completely satisfied.”

That was fine by her. He had turned out to be the perfect partner in her scientific quest.

“I’ve got thank you for that, Eve. I’ve never felt this with anyone else before. At the end of the day it’s like you inspire me to be a better person.”

She was OK with that, too. After all, as a good Christian woman it was her duty to inspire others to be better persons. But she didn’t like the protestation part of it, as though he were trying to convince her of something, that he was falling in love or something, and that she should consider this seriously. He was not a love prospect. By no means. Her mind insisted on that, even as her body wanted to argue the point.

To ward off his line of talking and to put him at his ease -- to put things back on a strictly sexual footing -- she complimented him.

“What you do down there, Adam,” she said, “is beyond description. You must be a world expert.”

It was all rather new to her, talking like this, even though there was a falseness she put on to defend herself against his vulnerability, which she appreciated, but did not want. She wanted sexual intimacy, if that led to orgasms, but no intimacy of emotion. No sharing. She fed him another line.

“I never heard any of my friends describe anything like this. It’s unbelievable.”

Adam cleared his throat, and assumed a mock-heroic tone.

“It’s my expertise on the saxophone coming through. The point being I have an educated tongue. An oral Ph.D.” He felt bold enough to brag a little. “See this?” He showed her how he could fold the tip of his tongue into a shape that fit perfectly round a tiny bud. “That’s the secret. The hornblower’s secret.”

She giggled, and he joined her. She was immensely grateful that he had broken the long spell and made her orgasmic. She felt like Sleeping Beauty come to life. She thought she might as well enjoy him for what he was – a sexual expert, great fun in bed, and overlook his vulnerability, as much as it threatened to irritate her.