Nobody Has To Blow Me

She went down against me, giving that look she can always pull with her face. That somewhat wistful look -- the one I always tend to interpret as "Do I really have to?"

She went down, her hands pinching into my shoulders, resting her face -- her face, for crying out loud -- against my thigh. I quickly pulled her back -- her entire body -- back up again. "What the hell do you think you're trying to do?"

"BJ," she replied. "Don't you want it? I know you do." Slowly she began sliding down my body -- again.

"No," I said, pulling her back up. This, now, exasperated her.

"What kind of man stares an entire lifetime into a girl's eyes, longingly, like you do," she said, punching me, "then refuses her the ability to give him a blowjob? When I'm practically begging to."

I lifted her up, with my powerful hand, and turned her over, so her body was on top of me. "Kind of man who really loves you, woman," I said. "What is it you don't get?"

"Really?" she said. I think some of her saliva actually drizzled my cornea.

"Truly," I promised.

I could feel her nervousness, in her muscles, at that point. In her body. She was trying to assess me. I had to be kinder. More gentle with her.

I sighed. "I know where to put it, ok? Why do you think I wouldn't know something like that?"

She turned off me, once more, collapsing onto the mattress, beside me. "Because of what you said," she said, her hand ever so slowly gliding down my torso, down there, yet again.

I took her hand, and held it. It was soft. I kissed it -- kissed her hand. "Because of what you said," she told me, then, "when you were three."

"Three? It's three, now?"

"You look surprised." Her muscles changed, in her hand, which I was holding.

"I just ... " I let go of her hand. "I ... just ... I don't remember ever swearing like that."

She took my hand back, the powerful one, and let me turn her back onto my body.

"You may have been two, when you said it," she agreed.

"Trooli?" I replied.

She proceeded to laugh evenly into my face.