The Seven Steps to Closure Read Online Free Page A

again. That had taught me a big lesson. The time after that was definitely meaningless. It had been ego driven sex – the need to be found attractive again after the previous gut wrenching experience. It had been fun but not very rewarding and I had gone off meaningless sex after that. And then of course there was Jake. The memory flooded into my mind, shocking me with its intensity.
    I managed to hold off sleeping with him until our fifth date, when the urge to feel his naked chest rubbing against mine became overwhelming. I spent the entire dinner staring into his deep brown eyes, engaging him in what I hoped was witty conversation. The whole time, all I could think about was unbuttoning his shirt and running my hands over the hardness of his stomach. During the entrée – a mouth-watering chilli mud crab which we shared, I imagined him gently teasing my bra straps off with his teeth. While we ate the main – a mixed hot and cold seafood buffet for two, I pictured him slowly sliding my skirt up my legs. By the time dessert was served – we shared a mixture of sorbets, I was visualising him throwing me onto the bed and ripping off my blouse before ravishing me with his mouth and hands.
    I may have been able to resist if it weren’t for the sorbet incident, which occurred after some dripped off the spoon I was offering Jake and onto his chin.
    ‘Lemon,’ I said, reaching out and wiping it off. Gently taking hold of my hand, he sucked the sorbet off my finger while staring into my eyes. Then he ran his tongue around my finger in a circular motion. If I hadn’t been sitting my knees would have given way.
    (I have to admit at this point that I have a toe and finger sucking fetish. I just love having my digits sucked. It’s not something I tell everyone – I am a little embarrassed by it. I put it down to my first boyfriend, when I was 15 and as innocent as a baby, sucking on my fingers while we watched a movie. He had stared straight ahead at the screen as if nothing was happening while I squirmed in my seat, experiencing feelings and emotions I had not known I was capable of.
    My fetish did lead to one embarrassing moment while I was at Uni. I had played tongue hockey at a night club, with an extremely handsome rugby player. One thing led to another and we ended up back at his flat mucking around. I expressed a desire to have my toes sucked and he seemed happy to oblige. Unfortunately I had been wearing cheap, synthetic shoes, and unbeknown to me was suffering from a bad case of foot odour. The luckless fellow worked his way down my body until he got to my feet. He picked one up to start the toe ravishing, stopping with his mouth about an inch from my big toe. ‘I’m sorry,’ he spluttered, ‘I just can’t.’ He collapsed on the bed, so overwhelmed by the smell of my feet and the alcohol he had consumed that he passed out. Anyway enough of that – back to the restaurant.)
    I rushed off to the ladies, all hot and bothered, and examined myself in the mirror. My face was flushed and my nipples were sticking out through the material of my blouse. I splashed cold water on my face in an attempt to cool off, but some of it slid down my cleavage, only enhancing the sensual experience. There was nothing to do except grab the bull by the horn and invite Jake home for coffee. Then I would wait until he expressed a desire to take things further and calmly let myself be seduced.
    The sexual tension in the car was so thick I had to think calming thoughts to stop myself leaping on him whenever we stopped at a red light. These calming thoughts were totally ruined by the left side of my brain, which is very arty and quite mischievous. One minute I would be deep breathing, picturing waves washing gently over golden sands and then pop, Jake and I would be on those golden sands, naked, with the waves washing gently over our feet. He was deep inside me, thrusting away. Christ, by the time we got home I was in quite a state.
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