The Sex Whisperer: Book 1 in the Whisperer Trilogy Read Online Free

us.
    Your hand feels soft and warm in mine, and it’s all that I can think about — the touch of your skin. I enjoy the moment, walking casually to my car.
    “ Where are we going?” you ask.
    “ Let’s just pick the first place that looks interesting,” I say.
    “ I guess I don’t have anywhere else to be,” you say, smiling. “I’ll just skip my geology class.”
    “We should study anatomy together,” I say, reaching across the car to place a hand on your thigh. It’s a simple act, but there’s a shock of intimacy in it. Our game has changed into a powerful form of desire. You set your hand on top of mine and drag it slowly up your thigh. Not too far, but it’s enough to bunch up the cloth of your skirt. I can feel the excitement rising between my legs, and I look for a place to stop.
    “ I want to kiss you,” I say.
    “ Mmmm,” you say. “That thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
    I smile. “There’s a park.” I point out the passenger window. We both look. A small cluster of skateboarders are mulling about some ramps. Behind them, the park gives way to wilderness. I pull in, and soon we’re walking hand-in-hand down a gravel path. Trees close in around us, and the sounds of the city and the skateboarders recede.
    The path’s mostly deserted. I pull you off the trail, through some brush and into a clearing. There’s a small patch of grass there, and I lay you down. I kick off my shoes. You slide out of yours. Even your small pale feet look like works of art to me. I find myself massaging them.
    “ I don’t know what we’re doing,” you say.
    “ I don’t either,” I say, but I reach out to grasp your hand.
    “You do this at every book signing, don’t you ?” you ask.
    “Of course not,” I say. “My hands were shaking when I wr ote that message in your book.”
    “I’ve only ever been with my husband,” you say.
    “Shhhhh,” I say. “We’re not married, remember?”
    I’m kissing your neck now, and you exhale sharply, then close your eyes. Everything seems to melt away into the distance: the park, the book-signing, my family. I can see and think of only you.
    Still kissing you softly on the ear, I slide my fingertips down your legs. I start again at your ankles, sliding slowly up your calves. I touch you under your knees. Then, I start up the back of your thigh.
    Soon, I’m using more than my fingertips. I slide my whole hand over your legs. I squeeze and marvel at the touch. Your legs are firm, the muscles taut. I want to bury my face in them, kiss every square inch of your body.
    Now, I’m touching your inner thigh, that spot where your skin is softest and most tender. I can hear your breath quicken.
    Our first kiss seals our pasts in a tomb and locks up our futures. My home life, my writing, the interminable book signings, dishes, cooking, shopping, everything that’s real and concrete in the world loses tangibility. I am here right now with you and nowhere else.
    We open our eyes and look directly at one another. I feel as if I’ve known you since we were children. This is truly an act of the creator, I think. There’s no other woman on the face of the earth for me but you. I want to remember your face forever, exactly how it is. Then, I want to take you home and make babies with you. I want to grow old with you, be with you through sickness and health.
    We’re kissing much harder now. There’s a force of desire in me that’s stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. I sit up and run both hands to your face. I cup your cheeks while we kiss. Both of us are breathing hard, and both of us know we’ve crossed a line .
    I run my left hand up your skirt. You give the briefest hesitation before shifting your position and opening your legs wider so I can touch you. My hands are on you quickly, rubbing generously against your panties .
    You reach down to my pants to do the same, to feel me and explore me through my pants. When your hand settles on my manhood, I hear you gasp.