"Right," I said, very smart. My fingers tripped over the button and she swatted them aside, popped it, dragged the zipper like she was unwrapping a gift she'd bought herself and intended to enjoy slowly. My cock sprang free—eager, impolite. Her eyes flicked down and went bright with mean affection.
"Still big for a nerd," she said, stroking once, slow enough to be a message. My hips jerked in betrayal.
"Still learning," I managed.
"Good." She lifted and guided me, the heat of her already wet pussy against my tip, and sank down slow. Inch by inch. I lost language at inch two. By inch three I remembered why metaphors exist. By the end I was inside all the way and the only sentence I had left was her name.
"Fuck," I said. "Mara."
"Exactly," she breathed, and rolled her hips.
