“You okay?” he asks. “Yeah...your hand,” I stutter. “It’s distracting me.” My voice shakes with nerves as I glance down at his touch. “Oh,” he responds, but he doesn’t pull away. Staring down, I see out of the corner of my eye as he bites his lip, as if he’s thinking—contemplating his next move. Then, he dances his fingers along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as he says, “Best to learn with a little distraction I think.”
