“I understand.”

“I understand,” I tell Emma. “I don’t know exactly what your fears are, but I can guess at some of them, and they make perfect sense. After all, you have to make yourself **** to do this, and it’s completely unknown to you, and you don’t know me. There’s a lot of risk here, so of course you’re afraid.” I can see relief shining in Emma’s eyes. “But look at Makayla. Look at her sitting there watching you. You trust her, don’t you?” Emma nods. “She wants the best for you, and she brought you to me—and she was even more afraid than you are, the first time I met her.”

“Really?” Emma asks, turning to Makayla in disbelief.

Makayla nods firmly. “Really,” she says quietly.

“Of course, part of that is that you have Makayla here with you—she just had her cousin, who was, umm, something less of a support.”

Makayla laughs. “I was so mad at her,” she says reminiscently. “I was furious and terrified . . . and then when you showed up, she just disappeared. Nowhere to be seen for hours.” That’s not actually quite true, but I don’t think Makayla really needs to know about her cousin peeking in while we were kissing. She looks at me and says, “If you hadn’t been so gentle and patient, I couldn’t have gone through with it. But you were wonderful, and then you gave me Dave . . .” Her eyes close and she smiles; her body shivers in remembered pleasure.

I stroke Emma’s cheek lightly with my free hand, and she turns back to face me, eyes going wide. “I do this to give women pleasure,” I tell her softly. “Yes, I do it for money, but I need a job, and by earning money this way, I can spend a lot more time giving women the greatest pleasure I possibly can. I don’t have to spend all sorts of time working another job that I’d rather spend eating pussy.” I see a little thrill run through Emma when she hears the word “pussy”—a thrill of desire, I hope. “I’ve eaten a lot of women’s pussies this year, and every one of them has loved the experience, and I’ve done my best to make every one of them feel special and appreciated and cared for.” Hope is dawning in Emma’s eyes, and she’s starting to breathe faster. I think her hormones are beginning to overpower her fear. “Many of them have gone further with me, and I’ve made it good for all of them. There have even been a couple”—I nod to Makayla as I speak—“who’ve asked me to take their virginity; none of them have regretted it.

“Whatever you’re afraid of here,” I tell her, “you don’t need to be. I won’t hurt you, or take advantage of you, or make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Emma continues to relax; I pull her closer and nuzzle her hair, and she leans into me with a tiny sigh. “And like I told Makayla, if you’re worried about doing it wrong or looking foolish, don’t, because you can’t. Whatever you do, however you react, is right for you. I admit, sex always looks a little silly, but you won’t look any sillier than anyone else ever does, and as long as you enjoy it, you won’t look like a fool at all.” I squeeze her shoulder and ask tenderly, “Do you trust me?” She nods. “Will you trust me to let me touch you?” After a pause, she nods, jerkily, but with determination.

I reach my free hand around to cup her face, gently caressing her cheek. Emma looks up at me with a shy, fragile delight in her eyes. I lift my other hand from her shoulder to run my fingers through her thick, wavy hair. I tease her mouth with my thumb, and her lips part. I think I can take a risk at this point, so I don’t ask permission—I lean forward and kiss her lightly, brushing her lips with mine. To my mild surprise, she gives herself up to the kiss, her mouth parting slightly and her eyes closing. She gains confidence to feel me responding to her, and when I gently stroke her lips with my tongue, she feels sure enough of herself to do the same. She even dares to tease my tongue with hers for a moment before pulling it back to safety.

I trace the contour of Emma’s face from her cheek down her jawline to her neck, and then to her far shoulder. I pull gently, rotating her torso, and she shifts her legs toward me. “Here,” I say, and reach down, under her thighs. I’m not sure how she’ll react, but when she realizes I’m trying to lift her onto my lap, she groans softly and uses her arms to help me. I have her partly turned away from me, so she has to turn her head to renew our kiss, which she does with growing enthusiasm. When I reach around her to fill my hands with her huge mounds, she gasps and stiffens up, breaking off the kiss—but when I start rubbing my palms in small circles and lightly squeezing her titflesh, she leans her head back into my neck and moans in pleasure.

I spend a few moments exploring Emma’s beautiful peaks with my hands, then trail kisses down to her ear and murmur, “You know, this would feel even better without your shirt in the way. Do you trust me enough to take it off?” She moans softly and leans forward, gripping the bottom of her shirt with both hands. She pulls it off as quickly as she can and throws it aside. I look over at Makayla, who looks stunned at how fast things are moving. I wink at her and return my full attention to Emma, nuzzling her neck and reclaiming her big tits with my hands. It only takes a few moments of feeling my fingers pass from her silken skin to her industrial-strength bra and back before she leans forward and takes my hands from her magnificent boobs. It seems she doesn’t trust herself to speak, but her meaning is clear for all that. I undo the rows of hooks on her bra, and as soon as they’re all off, she slips the straps over her shoulders and flings the offending garment vigorously into the hallway. Makayla’s eyes widen further and she slips a hand into her panties.

I lift Emma’s large, supple breasts in my hands, enjoying their weight. I stare at them as I roll them gently in my grip, stroking the edges of her areolae with the tips of my middle fingers; out of the corner of my eye I notice that she’s watching, too, looking entranced. Her nipples and areolae are different—small, oval, and coppery in color, centered around large, conical peaks which are quivering with arousal—but otherwise, I decide, she looks like Shion Utsunomiya with her shirt off, too.

I start off slowly, letting my hands roam over Emma’s heavy, naked curves, then start applying more pressure. She squirms a little as I knead her soft, firm titflesh and mewls softly every time one of my fingers judders and bumps over her titbuds. I lick her ear delicately, making her shiver, and murmur, “You have the sexiest titties I’ve ever seen.”

Emma blushes hotly. “Really?” she manages to ask after a few moments.

“Really,” I confirm, then nip her earlobe. She squeaks. “And—” (I swipe a fingertip firmly across each nipple; she gasps loudly and trembles in my lap) “—I know what I’m talking about. Your tits are gorgeous.” Emma moans and grinds her ass into my lap, then gasps. Fortunately for me, my cock is upright, or else I’d be in a lot of pain right now. She’s inexperienced, but not naïve enough to miss that bulge.

“Is that your—your—” she whispers.

“My cock, baby,” I murmur in her ear. “That’s my cock. And yes, that’s all you. I have a sexy woman with huge, perfectly-shaped breasts topless in my lap where I can put my hands all over those sweet beauties.” To emphasize my point, I squeeze both her heavy peaks, rolling them in my hands, and capture each of their coppery summits for special attention. She mewls loudly to feel me pinching them and twirling them gently between thumb and forefinger. “What more could a man want?”

“My—pants off?” Emma asks, her voice thick with desire. “So you can touch my—my—”

“Your pussy, you sexy thing,” I tell her huskily. “Your sweet kitty. Your hot, wet slit. Your delectable little honeypot, flowing with your juices. Yes, oh yes, I want your pussy; I want to play with it and feast on it until you cum shrieking, again and again. But only when you’re ready.”

Emma’s fighting herself, but after a moment, she manages to ask, “Andrew?”

“Yes, sexy girl?”

“Andrew, please—please—eat my—my—my pussy. Please.”