Page 181 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
My face turned red immediately. I wanted to bite my nail and avoid the question I always found awkward to answer. I wasn’t good at dirty talk. What was a girl supposed to say to that?
It’s a gusher down there?
Look out, tidal wave of love juice coming your way.
Warning: waterfall of vagina secretion flooding the panty perimeters.
No, I didn’t think I’d ever be good at dirty talk; it wasn’t in my bones. But that didn’t mean I would stop trying.
“Wet,” I squeaked out, trying to hold back the giggle that wanted to pop out.
“Let me see.” With one swipe, Henry rubbed the head of his penis along my slit, spreading my arousal along his length.
There was something about the head of a penis rubbing against your clit that felt so beyond amazing; it felt magical, like a unicorn just kissed you in the most private of areas.
It felt like a tongue, only less dexterous, but still extraordinary, moving up and down, rubbing you in all the right ways. I could easily get off if Henry continued to tease me like that, if he only touched me with the tip. No doubt about it.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, moving his cock away from my vagina and up my pubic bone where he circled the vajazzle with the head of his penis.
I made a mental note to report back to Delaney about the vajazzle success and how much Henry liked it. I hoped it had the same effect for Delaney, since this was her idea. Thank God my visit to Marta turned out to be more positive, and not one that found me squirting pounds of baby powder in my panties until I was excreting it out my back end when dancing.
Some things you never forgot.
“I really like this,” Henry said, his voice a little shy. “It’s really sexy, Rosie.”
“I’m glad.”
I adjusted my hips just as Henry was circling the heart he claimed as his, sending my vajazzle into his penis.
He groaned, so I did it again, thinking he liked it. “Do you like the texture? In my head I would think the sharpness of the diamond would hurt your sensitive skin, but I guess not.”
“No,” he shouted.
“Interesting. I guess the smoothness of a vagina isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes men need a rough tube. Noted.” I put my finger to my lip as I thought. “I wonder if they make reversed ribbed condoms; that could be interesting—”
“No, no, no.” Henry pulled away from me, ignoring my brewing idea of textured vagina holes, and cradled his junk.
The intimate mood was completely wiped away when I realized Henry was holding his penis in one hand while trying to examine it closely.
“What’s going on?” I sat up next to him. “Are you okay?”
“Fuck. Only fucking me,” he replied. He squeezed his eyebrows together with his hand and was breathing heavily.
“What’s wrong?” As I asked, the light from the lamp reflected off a teeny tiny gem resting directly in the middle of Henry’s pee hole. “Oh, my God, did you dick-dazzle yourself?” A snort flew out of my nose before I could stop it.
“It’s not funny,” he replied, worried. “How the hell am I supposed to get it out of there, Rosie?”
“Pee it out?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Sometimes when I hear you pee, it sounds like you are trying to blast a hole through the wall to get to the neighbors. I bet you could blast that little gem right out of there.”
“What if it’s like a cork and shuts the pee off?”
“What’s the big deal? Then you just hold your pee; I used to have to do it all the time when I was at work and having to share a bathroom with a bunch of other women. Pee shyness is a real thing.”
Henry sighed in frustration. “When you’re a guy, holding your pee mid-stream is extremely painful, Rosie. For a man, it’s pretty much impossible, unless you want to be in a shit-ton of pain, and I would rather not be in a lot of pain with one of your fake diamonds in my urethra.”
I had to move my hand over my mouth to hold in my giggle. Why did I think this was so funny? I shouldn’t be laughing; this is a serious thing happening to my boyfriend’s penis. I should be vastly concerned and finding a solution.
But . . .
