---
"It's my first time too, you dummy. I don't know. But I will tell you when it really feels good," she said in a shy voice, then added, softer, "and I will also tell you where to be gentler. You are pushing too hard inside me. Can you slow down a bit? I want it to last longer. Don't rush it."
John slowed his rhythm. Suddenly, an air bubble came out of her pussycat. It made a fart-like sound.
They laughed. The laughter was a bridge between them, stronger than any spell. He kissed her again, learning to match her cadence, to keep his eagerness tucked behind patience. She kissed him back, learning the small catches in his breath that meant there, the slight, grateful sound he made when she threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
They paused because pausing was part of the beauty. Foreheads together again, sharing air, they spoke in little pieces.
"Tell me if you want to stop," she said. "Any time."
"I will," he promised. "You too."
"I will."
