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Authors: Samiya Bashir
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talking about how grateful he was to have me back with him and all that. You know, kissing my ass just like I like itâ¦and I just really let go.
They sat quiet for a while after that. Z was trying to imagine what it would feel like to have her ass kissed. Reagan was daydreaming about the sun as it rose over Dylanâs sweaty back. She stretched a smile across her face as she remembered how high it had risen by the time they finally went to sleep. Yeah, Z, she said with a wink and a smile. You shouldâve been there.
Z laughed along with her friend and finished her sandwich. She was just polishing off the last drops of tea from her thermos when she steeled herself to ask the question sheâd been holding in for so long. Reagan?
Yeah?
I was wonderingâ¦could you tell meâ¦I meanâ¦whatâs it like?
Reagan always seemed a bit amused that Z was a virgin. She got the whole thing about where she was from, and Zâd told her about the arranged marriages and how she wasnât ready for anything like that. Reagan had even tried to get her to go out on dates, offering to double, but Z seemed petrified by the idea of letting anyone close to her. I mean, thereâs virgin, thought Reagan, and then thereâs VIRGIN . Z acted as as if she didnât even know what it was like to kiss a guy. Reagan filled her mouth with a huge bite of her sandwich and leaned back on the grass. She was just daydreaming and chewing, daydreaming and chewing with this sneaky, lusty expression on her face that drew Z closer. It was as if she could sniff the excitement radiating from Reaganâs body into her own.
When she finished chewing, Reagan swallowed slowly, licking all around her mouth and wiping both lips before she began. Well, when Iâm with a man, I feel like the most extraordinary gift. She checked Zâs face for a reaction, then continued. I feel wrapped completely in the beautiful paper of his skin. His arms strong around me. His head buried in my neck or planting kisses across my face, my chest, my fingers. The smell of a man gets all over you, Zâinside and through you like a cloud of honor. It feels like heâs worshipping me, like somehow Iâm worthy of worship. And when I let him inside of me, itâs as if Iâm returning the favor, enveloping him in my warmth, wrapping him in the flow of my juices.
I circle my legs and arms around him and draw him closer and closer. And weâre both covering each other with kisses now, and burrowing our heads in each otherâs necks, and when weâre both as close as we can possibly beâitâs like fireworks. Itâs the most extraordinary kind of love burst. Yeah. Thatâs it. It feels like it would if you could concentrate all the love in the world into a tight ball that could barely stretch enough to
contain it. And once you crammed that last bit of love inside, it burst, and set all the love rushing free again.
They both sat on the grass hugging their knees to their chests. Z sat speechless, trying to imagine. As hard as she tried to paint the picture in her mind, there were holes, blank spaces she couldnât quite fill in. When she could finally stammer out a few words, she turned her face to Reagan and asked, What about women? When youâre with them, is it the same?
Reagan thought about it for a moment before deciding. Yes, and no. Z drew closer, tuning out all distractions with rapt attention. When Iâm with a woman itâs like the ultimate acceptance. All the little fears and doubts, the self-consciousnessâit all dies away. Itâs like discovering everything thatâs beautiful about myself. Not like hearing someone else saying it, but seeing it with your own eyes and knowing itâs true. All of that nitpicking fault game I play in the mirror disappears and Iâm left awestruck by the soft, delectable beauty in all kinds of bodies. When Iâm with a woman, itâs like the
They sat quiet for a while after that. Z was trying to imagine what it would feel like to have her ass kissed. Reagan was daydreaming about the sun as it rose over Dylanâs sweaty back. She stretched a smile across her face as she remembered how high it had risen by the time they finally went to sleep. Yeah, Z, she said with a wink and a smile. You shouldâve been there.
Z laughed along with her friend and finished her sandwich. She was just polishing off the last drops of tea from her thermos when she steeled herself to ask the question sheâd been holding in for so long. Reagan?
Yeah?
I was wonderingâ¦could you tell meâ¦I meanâ¦whatâs it like?
Reagan always seemed a bit amused that Z was a virgin. She got the whole thing about where she was from, and Zâd told her about the arranged marriages and how she wasnât ready for anything like that. Reagan had even tried to get her to go out on dates, offering to double, but Z seemed petrified by the idea of letting anyone close to her. I mean, thereâs virgin, thought Reagan, and then thereâs VIRGIN . Z acted as as if she didnât even know what it was like to kiss a guy. Reagan filled her mouth with a huge bite of her sandwich and leaned back on the grass. She was just daydreaming and chewing, daydreaming and chewing with this sneaky, lusty expression on her face that drew Z closer. It was as if she could sniff the excitement radiating from Reaganâs body into her own.
When she finished chewing, Reagan swallowed slowly, licking all around her mouth and wiping both lips before she began. Well, when Iâm with a man, I feel like the most extraordinary gift. She checked Zâs face for a reaction, then continued. I feel wrapped completely in the beautiful paper of his skin. His arms strong around me. His head buried in my neck or planting kisses across my face, my chest, my fingers. The smell of a man gets all over you, Zâinside and through you like a cloud of honor. It feels like heâs worshipping me, like somehow Iâm worthy of worship. And when I let him inside of me, itâs as if Iâm returning the favor, enveloping him in my warmth, wrapping him in the flow of my juices.
I circle my legs and arms around him and draw him closer and closer. And weâre both covering each other with kisses now, and burrowing our heads in each otherâs necks, and when weâre both as close as we can possibly beâitâs like fireworks. Itâs the most extraordinary kind of love burst. Yeah. Thatâs it. It feels like it would if you could concentrate all the love in the world into a tight ball that could barely stretch enough to
contain it. And once you crammed that last bit of love inside, it burst, and set all the love rushing free again.
They both sat on the grass hugging their knees to their chests. Z sat speechless, trying to imagine. As hard as she tried to paint the picture in her mind, there were holes, blank spaces she couldnât quite fill in. When she could finally stammer out a few words, she turned her face to Reagan and asked, What about women? When youâre with them, is it the same?
Reagan thought about it for a moment before deciding. Yes, and no. Z drew closer, tuning out all distractions with rapt attention. When Iâm with a woman itâs like the ultimate acceptance. All the little fears and doubts, the self-consciousnessâit all dies away. Itâs like discovering everything thatâs beautiful about myself. Not like hearing someone else saying it, but seeing it with your own eyes and knowing itâs true. All of that nitpicking fault game I play in the mirror disappears and Iâm left awestruck by the soft, delectable beauty in all kinds of bodies. When Iâm with a woman, itâs like the
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