A Derivation of Love, Chapter 6: Thursday, February 15, 1996

Thursday, February 15, 1996

Dana pushed at his head. “Stop. It’s too much. It’s too much. Stop.”

Desmond stopped immediately. He took his face from between her legs and pulled down the blanket. He slid under it and tunnelled up into her embrace.

“Oh my God. That felt really, really good.” She was flush, her hair was tousled, and her smile was wide and easy. “I mean, I didn’t want you to stop, but it got so, wow.” She smiled, laughed, and sighed. “It got too much. To handle.”

Desmond smiled into her eyes. “I believe we found your clitoris.”

She laughed. “Me, too.” She kissed his face several times, and then gave him a long hug. “It was great. Really great. Thanks.”

“It's funny, you know.” Desmond turned onto his back and drew her into his arms. “It only kind of occurred to me now, all of a sudden, that I’ve never, you know, really done anything to it.” He stroked her back with his hand. “I mean, I always knew it was there, because I’ve seen enough porn, but it never occurred to me to do anything.”

Dana squeezed him and kissed his chest. “I am very glad, it finally occurred to you.”

“Hey now, it’s not like you couldn’t have asked.” Desmond laughed and squeezed her. “Why didn’t you say something.”

“I don’t know.” Dana shrugged. “I guess it never occurred to me too.”

“Really? Don’t you masturbate?”

“Not really.”

“Not really?” Desmond laughed “You do or you don’t. It’s not a trick question.”

“Well, it’s not like I never tried,” Dana shifted in his arms. “But, it didn’t really do much for me. I felt kind of weird doing it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why?” Dana looked up at him “Do you masturbate?”

“Of course.” Desmond nodded and shrugged. “Any guy who says he doesn’t is a liar.”

“Really? How often?”

“Pretty often, I guess.”

“Like how pretty often?” Dana sat up, smiling mischievously. “How many times?”

“I don’t know.” Desmond looked away. “It’s not like I count.”

“When was the last time?”

Desmond rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to know this?”

“Of course.” Dana nodded. “Or, do you not want to tell me?”

“If you want to know, I’ll tell you. Sure.” He shrugged and let out a deep breath. “Only, it’s the sort of thing people sometimes use against other people, you know.”

“What? Like I will make fun of you about it.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Dana squeezed his hand. “I’m curious. Because it’s something about you.” She smiled. “I want to know.”

“Alright.”

Desmond started at the ceiling for a moment.

“Soooo?” Dana cuddled into him. “When was the last time?”

He sighed. “This afternoon. When I got back from class.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I was horny.”

“Do you use something? To help. Do you have like magazines or something?”

“No, I can’t buy porn. It’s too embarrassing. It’s like going up to a stranger and saying, excuse me, sir, do you know I masturbate?”

“So what do you do, then. Do you think about stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think about me?”

Desmond felt her excitement. “Of course.”

“What do you think about?”

“I don’t know. Stuff. Like things we’ve done that was cool.”

“Yeah, what else?”

“That’s about it, I guess.”

“Ok, so what did you think about this afternoon?”

Desmond remembered the girl from theatre class. Her long dark hair, her pale skin, and dark eyes. She wore a skirt today, nylons, and shoes with heels. A red Alice band held her hair back. She wasn’t even that attractive but Desmond got so horny looking at her that, after class, he went straight to his room, lay on his bed with his pants around his ankles, and jerked off thinking about fucking her from behind, her skirt up over her ass. He wanted it to last but he couldn’t resist pounding away until the cum squirted over his hand and stomach.

“I guess, I was thinking about something else.”

“So, what was it? An actress or a model or something? Elle Macpherson or Uma Thurman?” Dana poked him playfully in the ribs for each woman.

“No”

Dana stiffened. “Do you think of other girls.”

“Sometimes.”

“Like this afternoon.”

“Sure. Fine. Like this afternoon.”

“Who?”

“No one.”

“Who?”

“I don’t even know her name. Some girl from one of my classes.”

“You thought of a real person. A real person from one of your classes.”

“Yeah, why?”

Dana turned away.

“What?”

Dana began to cry.

“What?”

Desmond sighed and rolled his eyes.

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