“When she was going down on me?” I ask. At his nod I say, “No, she wouldn’t bite me or anything crazy―at least not on purpose. But I do have a big penis so she did accidently scrape me with her teeth.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he clarifies. “Let’s talk about what was happening when she was giving you pleasure. Were you able to watch her?”
I freeze because me and Mason here are going someplace I hadn’t planned on when I first plopped down on this leather couch. I can say yes, and switch subjects. I can tell him I’m done talking and we would be. But this thing has been eating me alive. So I stop playing and give it to him straight, even though everything male about me calls me a pussy for doing it. “No.”
“Did you encourage her movements or motions?”
Again I say, “No.”
He nods like we’re getting somewhere, even though I’m not exactly sure where the hell we are. “Has it always been this way for you when it comes to oral sex?” he questions.
Damn it, here we go. “In a way, but in another way it was a lot worse this time.”
For a few beats we just watch each other, both of us waiting for the other to say more, and me expecting him to tell me I’m screwed in the head for feeling what I’m feeling. Instead he asks, “Tell me, what you usually do during oral sex?”
“When I give it or receive it?” Again it’s like we’re talking about the stupid weather.
Mason thinks about it. “How about when you give it?”
“It’s not something I usually do,” I admit.
“Why?” he asks.
I don’t know what’s up with me. I want to tell him, but it’s like I can’t answer.
“Is it an act you don’t enjoy performing?” he offers.
It’s probably TMI, but I tell him anyway. “It’s actually something I love doing, but I don’t do it often.”
“Why?” he questions again.
I give it some thought. Who am I kidding? I give it a lot of thought, recalling that fantasy I had about Sol―the one I rubbed off to after she left―the one where I’m spreading her legs wide and burying my face against her.
I drag my hand through my hair, pulling my head out from between her thighs and back into reality before I pop some serious wood. “The times I’ve done it, it’s always been with a woman I’ve been with for a while, someone who I know is clean and who isn’t going to give me an STI.”
“So when you choose to perform, it’s with someone you feel safe performing it on.”
I should just nod and move on. But if I do, it’s like I might miss something I’m failing to see. “It’s not only a safety thing. It’s more like if I go down on her, then she’ll feel like she has to go down on me to return the favor.”
“So this goes back to your aversion to receiving oral sex.”
“I’m not opposed to it,” I tell him, frowning. “Like I said, it feels good. It’s just . . . Hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say here.”
He leans back, giving me time to gather my thoughts to say more. But I can’t seem to, and he picks up on it. “From what I’m hearing, Finn, you enjoy the sensation, but you’re incapable of enjoying the act.”
I nod despite the tension straining the muscles along my neck and shoulders. “Have you ever achieved orgasm from oral sex?” he asks.
“Never,” I admit. It’s then I say a lot more than I’ve ever said to anyone. “I can’t come like that. It gets me hard, and keeps me hard, but the tension it causes makes it uncomfortable.”
“Do you tell your partner as much, or ask her to stop?”
I shake my head, staring at the gray carpet that makes up his large office. “No, I just let her do it.”
“Why?” he asks. “If it’s something you’d rather not do, why do it at all?”
I lift my head, despite how I want to turn away. “Because I’m supposed to. It’s part of foreplay, expected, you know? I’m supposed to want it and enjoy it.”
“But you can’t,” he reiterates.
“No,” I admit.
“How do you achieve release?”
I raise my brows. “Is this relevant?”
His expression is relaxed yet somehow serious. “I believe it is.”
“By fucking a woman,” I tell him point blank.
“When you say ‘by fucking a woman’ are you doing all the work?” He holds out a hand when I cock my head. “Are you the dominant party, the one who takes control?” he explains.
“It’s consensual,” I insist. “I’ve never forced anyone.”
He smiles in that metro-sexual way of his. “I’m not accusing you of overpowering someone through sex, Finn. You’ve never given me any reason to believe it’s in your nature. But when you do have sex with a woman, is it in positions where you’re on top?”
“No,” I say slowly. “I’ve fucked women standing up, and against the wall, on top of furniture, in the shower―you know, the usual.”