Flamingo Fugitive (Supernatural Bounty Hunters 5) by E A Price Page A

thought your thighs would be so fat.   She chewed on her lip as a feeling of vulnerability assailed her.
    “Don’t you want me?” she whispered.
    Stone scrubbed a hand over his face.  This was not how he envisioned his night.  By this point, he usually had a woman screaming and begging for more.    “Fuck, feathers, you’ve no idea how much I want you, but what was that all about?  You’re not that good of an actress.”
    She felt her doubts flutter away to be replaced with indignant annoyance.  She was a damn fine actress!  No one else came close to topping her rendition of Audrey II in the Little Shop of Horrors.  She played the plant, and it was damn hard work making the puppet move and doing the voice.
    “Look, it’s not a big deal.  Okay, it takes a lot for me to, you know, come.”  She shrugged as her cheeks turned bright red – bright enough to be seen in the dark.  “I enjoy sex, it’s nice, but I rarely get there through regular, umm, coitus.”  Usually, she just faked it.  It wasn’t a big deal, but it avoided the recriminatory conversation afterwards where she was told in no uncertain terms that there was clearly something wrong with her .
    “First of all, don’t talk dirty like that because it turns me on and I’m already fit to blow.”
    Francine couldn’t help the snicker of laughter that escaped.  “You find the word coitus a turn on?”
    “Just about anything that comes out of your mouth is a turn on.”  His eyes glittered as lewd images passed before him.
    “Hmmm, coitus.”  She rolled the word over her tongue, and he gave her a frustrated look.
    “Second of all, are you telling me that you always fake your orgasms?”
    “Well, not always.”  Just mostly , and always in recent years.  “It’s not a big deal.”  She was an actress; this is what she did.  It really wasn’t a big deal.  It just did take a lot for her to get there, and she rarely had a partner who wanted to spend the time and energy taking her there.
    He viewed her with a curious expression, as a botanist might a new and unusual breed of plant.  “So what do you do to get yourself off?”
    “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” she complained, fearing where this was going.  Look at Francine, the amazing freak!  Men don’t give her orgasms!  Her flamingo huffed at her flippancy, but really!
    “Haven’t you had it before?  Surely the guys you dated before you met me…”
    “No, most men are just happy with the fake orgasms,” she said, accusingly.  At least the selfish douches she dated were.  Wait a moment, were they now dating?
    “I’m not normal,” he said, proudly.
    “You said it.  Fine, usually after sex I finish myself off with my fingers or a vibrator.  Or sometimes my showerhead.”
    He nodded deadly serious.  “What about oral or anal?  Do either of those work?”
    This was so surreal.  “Oral yes - sometimes, anal no.”
    “How about your clit?  Does rubbing that help?  What about your breasts?  Do you like having them massaged?”
    “Are you kidding?”  She’d never had such a frank conversation about sex, and he wasn’t making fun of her!  He was actually interested in what got her motor running! 
    He tapped his foot, waiting for her answer.  She felt like an errant school child. 
    Francine sighed in exasperation.  “Fine, yes, I like both those things.  But I’ve rarely been with a guy who really had the patience to get me there before he came.  So I just, you know, encourage them.”
    “C’mon.”
    “W…what?  Where?”  Her stomach clenched as her flamingo held her breath.  He wasn’t kicking her out, was he?
    “Feathers, I am determined to give you as much pleasure as you are going to give me.  I don’t want you faking anything; if I’m not getting the job done, I want to know.”
    Francine sighed.  “You’re making too big of a deal out of this.”
    “I wasn’t kidding, feathers.  I want you to have a