Oral sex

He enjoys her down on her knees between his legs but he is conflicted. He rarely reciprocates. That once, and that was good. She always goes on about it, replaying the scene, his eyes staring up at her from his place between her legs. His fingers inside her. The way she came, convulsing on his hand, juicing up around it, making him hard to feel so powerfully in charge of her orgasm. That once, and another time but only for a second. One or two licks before moving on to other things.

To tell you the truth he prefers her down between his knees sucking him. She has learned how to use her tongue more effectively. He hopes he has taught her this, but perhaps it was just her overcoming her shyness. At first it was barely passable, a tentative nothing blowjob. But now there is a rhythm to it and when her mouth is on him he can barely contain himself. Does not contain himself. He comes and she swallows. All these things are like a gift to him.

He has grown to expect these gifts over time. Not to take them for granted, because he is always surprised and grateful. He never asks for the gifts, but he accepts them knowing he will never reciprocate. Girls don't expect that kind of thing, although when he does it they are often overwhelmingly happy. He would. If there was time. He would if they didn't slip into the habits they have gouged out for themselves. He would if it wasn't so damp down there, if it didn't smell of wet earth and mushrooms, if he were less meticulous about hygiene.

So she is down on her knees and he comes in her mouth and she swallows it and he is grateful. Maybe if he loved her he would find the time to reciprocate. Maybe if they were a couple. This is a casual thing, has been for years now, on and off. She is sexy and he likes her and when he leaves he feels a slight twinge of guilt but he leaves her anyway.

That is just how it is between them. That, he thinks, is how it will always be.