***** with Alice has always been pretty much the same. Not the toys, or the role-playing, but the hardfastfuckmenow kind of ***** that gets you so hot that by the time you’re finished, you’re ready to go again. “Slow” was never a part of your sexual vocabulary. Which is why she looks so confused when you stop her wandering hands, nudge her gently back onto the bed.

She’s already done most of the work for you, so all you have to remove is her panties. As you slide them ever so slowly down her legs, the bewilderment on her face fades into a smoldering desire. She reaches for you, but you stop her hands firmly with your own and catch her eyes.

“I love you.”

The words are soft but firm, a solemn declaration of what you were so afraid to say, and you can see tears begin to well up in her eyes, so you’d better distract her before the mood is lost.

Her skin is beautiful, all hotsoftsmooth and saltysweet. It reminds you of vanilla ice cream. When you were a child, your mother always told you to savor your treats, take small bites so you could fully enjoy the flavor.  Of course, as a child, you scarfed it down like you’d never get another bite of ice cream as long as you lived. You realize you’ve been doing the same thing with Alice, taking as much as you could, getting your fill of her taste and smell and touch because you were afraid she would be taken away. You’ve been afraid you wouldn’t be able to have her anymore, just like when you were twelve, and your mother decided you were a woman, and ice cream didn’t fit in your diet anymore.

Except now, with Alice, you think maybe you might be able to risk taking it slow. You can feel her trembling as you murmur soft incoherent “I love you”s into her skin, tasting her earlobe, her neck, her collarbone. She arches against you as your teeth close around a cherry nipple. The muscles in her abdomen twitch as you take your mother’s “small bites” advice literally, gently nipping at the warm flesh. Then you think you should probably stop thinking about your mother, because the soft moans catching in Alice‘s throat are anything but maternal.