Read Online Beautiful You by Chuck Palahniuk - Free Book Online Page B

slipped a wet finger into her, matter-of-factly saying, “This is your urethra.” Rotating the finger, he said, “And this … this is your urethral sponge, often called the ‘G-spot.’ ”
    The walking tour his fingers took sent shivers through her body.
    He oiled his hands with a pink, rose-scented gel and slipped two fingers into her. “When I massage the rear wall of your vaginal vault …”
    Unseen, he must’ve done so, because Penny twitched and shivered with uncontrolled joy. Whatever Max was doing, she drove her hips against his hand, wanting more.
    “That,” he explained, “is your perineal sponge, a mass of erectile tissue that connects through the pudendal nerve to your clitoris.”
    Penny didn’t need to look to know that her clit was stiffening. Untouched, it was achingly engorged and throbbing.
    Massaging whatever he’d found, Max was stimulating her clitoris by remote control. “The perineal sponge is the reason women can achieve orgasms while having anal sex.” He slippeda third and a fourth finger inside. “Good girl, your vagina is ‘ballooning.’ ” During arousal, he explained, the inner vagina expands, lengthening to create a dead end beyond the cervix. Now his entire hand was inside.
    Penny looked down to see only his smooth, pale wrist disappearing into her. At the sight of it, she moaned.
    Maxwell’s eyes had a glazed, faraway look, not focused on anything. Through his hand, he was clearly exploring a hidden world. “This, I believe, is your cervix,” he said. “If I apply a steady pressure …”
    Penny’s fingers went involuntarily to her mouth, and she bit down on a knuckle, whimpering. She closed her eyes, embarrassed by the mewling that rose from deep in her throat. It was terrifying being coaxed this far beyond her own rational control. It was as frightening as she’d always imagined a heart attack would feel, but she never wanted it to stop.
    His voice muted with admiration and wonder, Maxwell said, “This is exceptional. Do you always ejaculate this much?”
    Penny opened her eyes and peeked. A rivulet of shimmering juice was erupting from near the top of her pussy. It flowed down Maxwell’s arm until it dripped from his elbow. “Sorry,” she whispered, instantly ashamed.
    “But why?” asked Maxwell, twisting his hand deep inside her.
    “I’m peeing on you.”
    He laughed. With his free hand he collected a smidgen of the liquid. He rubbed it between two fingers, brought the fingers to his nose and smelled it, tasted it with the tip of his tongue. “Enzymes,” he pronounced, “from your Skene’s glands. That’s why it vents from your urethra instead of your vulva.” He brought the wet fingers near her mouth and asked, “Would you like to taste yourself?”
    Excited as she was, purring and thrashing like an animal,Penny couldn’t bring herself to lick his fingers. She didn’t have to.
    He shoved them into her mouth. Gagging her. Choking her. The taste of her own sensual emissions was metallic and salty. For a short eternity she couldn’t speak or breathe.
    Maxwell’s voice was reproachful. “I thought you said you were wearing a diaphragm.”
    She wasn’t. Her diaphragm was in Jackson Heights—securely locked in a safe-deposit box at Chase Manhattan. Penny wasn’t trying to get pregnant. She just hadn’t planned to have sex tonight.
    The fingers withdrew from her mouth, allowing her to draw a new breath.
    “Don’t think you can trick me, Miss Harrigan.” The fingers within her were still roving, mapping that hidden world. “When and if I ever marry anyone it will be for love. I had a vasectomy many years ago.”
    Penny wanted to explain, but she was exhausted. Instead, she lay back, sinking deeper into pleasure as he petted the glans of her clitoris. He described how the short clitoral shaft descended into her skin. Using gentle pressure, he traced the shaft to where it divided into two legs which he called “crura.” These legs, Maxwell