“Please stop!” I think the words. I scream them. But as they’re only in my head, you can’t hear them. And as I can’t quite bring myself to say them, you don’t stop. I’ve never let a guy go down on me; it’s way too embarrassing. I mean licking my bits? Why would I want someone to do that? It’s so personal; too personal. God, it makes me feel vulnerable when someone uses their fingers down there. No way would I let them…

“Oh fuck!” The words echo round your bedroom. It sounds like me but there’s a rasp I’ve never heard before. I think back to all the men who have asked to lick my pussy; boys really. Some of them skipped the asking part and just headed down. Those were the ones who had watched pornos – the ones who ‘knew’ that a girl needed to be licked before she’d let you fuck her. My cheeks start glowing with embarrassment at the thought of letting a boy lick my bits, let alone fucking me.

It’s okay for the girls in pornos. They probably have a team of people to clean them down there. There’s probably an inspection or something since they’re going to get filmed and everyone will be looking at their pussies. “Oh my God!”

Your mouth is almost down there now. I showered this morning but hours have passed and I’ve been shopping since; all that walking and it was really warm in La Senza. Maybe I smell down there?

Deep breath. Be brave. At least my knickers are new and pretty and I’m sure you love them. Although when I let you buy them for me, I hadn’t expected this to happen. “Oh God!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Yes! “Your breath’s tickling me.”

“I’m going to do more than tickle you, Abigail.” I can feel the air going in and out of my lungs, yet it seems like I’m not breathing; like I can’t breathe. When you asked to see me wearing them, I didn’t know this was going to happen.

Your mouth is… kissing?

“Oh my God!” The words screech out of me.

“I’m going to do that again… but without your knickers.” Fuuuck! I’ve got no idea how this is going to feel.

I help you take my knickers down because I’m nice like that. I can’t help myself. Do nice girls allow people to lick their pussies? Isn’t there a rule about pussy-licking… because you’re kissing your way back up my leg and your tongue is so warm and your breath so gentle that I kind of want you to keep going but I’m nice… I’m a good girl… and you’re… we’re not even lesbians, so you’re going to stop in a second. We'll laugh…

Oh, you really are going further and I’m spreading my knees apart. Why am I doing that? And what is that moaning sound? Is that your neighbours fucking again? They never, ever fuck on a Saturday afternoon.

He always goes down to the pub to swear at the football with his mates. Oooh shiiit!

That’s actually your tongue touching me down there! “Can you try to keep still, Abigail?” you snap. “You nearly knocked my front teeth out.”

“Sorry,” I say, but it’s your fault. What you’re doing is so hot that I couldn’t keep still even if I was chained to the bed. “Oh fuuuck!” I groan, pretending that I’m chained to the bed. And you’re lapping and licking and I’m not scared or giggling. Perhaps nice girls allow pussy-licking but don’t enjoy it?

Ooooooh Jesus!! I’m really not a nice girl.

You said that oral sex is amazing and, wow, you were right! In fact, had I known that oral sex would be this much fun, I wouldn’t have been so reluctant.

No wonder guys beg to have their cocks sucked if it makes them feel like… oh wow, what’s that you’re doing to me? How are you doing that? I mean mmmm, it feels so nice but… I can’t believe it. You’re going to make me… ugh come! It’s so fast; it usually takes me such a long time to… if I even get there at all.

But that tidal surge of tingling; that tightening? I know what that means and… oooh your tongue’s gentle urging? I need more of that; I’ve got a craving to press myself against your mouth; to ride your face; to hold your head still as my hips buck. “Sorry,” I say. I know – your teeth.

My blood is hot and pumping fast as your suctioning lips stretch my labia… and my clitoris. Oh God, what are you doing to my clitoris? I’m twisting my hips as your tongue flutters over the tight bed of nerves with rapid, light flicks. How did you know I needed that?

Burning heat; I can’t breathe! A savage sound fills my chest and ears as the knotted tension bursts free in an intense, shattering release. There’s so much wanting to get out, needing to get out. Wave after wave of pleasure tears itself free, passing through my vocal chords before making my head spin. It’s more than an orgasm, surely?

Whatever it is, it’s cleansing and I’m crying out as emotions explode, each one a grenade of gratitude. You’ve given me my first oral orgasms. You’ve changed me, transformed me.

“Please stop,” I whimper, too sensitive to bear any more. You’re lying on my thigh, studying my pussy intently, your fingertips tracing the swollen, fragile shell of my labia. I want to explain how you’ve made me feel but can’t find the words.

But I could show you.

You screech protest but I land with my face above the triangle of pretty pink between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No! It’s just that… your breath’s tickling me.”

“I’m going to do more than tickle you.”

“I was hoping you might.”