It was probably the wrong thing to do when I saw the scars but I've always been in the worst habit of doing the wrong things in relationships.
Things were going so well up to that point. I had him panting under me, nothing more then a moaning pile of gasping nerves. It was something I never really expected out of him. Then again I didn't ever know what to expect from him. My hand ran under his shirt and with a little resistance he raised his arms and let me tug it off. His hand reached down to give my cock a tight stroke and I leaned up to look at my prize.
And froze like a douchbag.
If I was smarter, faster, romantic or just not a complete toolbag I would have I dunno kissed or licked his scars and just went on with my day. But looking down at them my brain just creaked to a halt and I know pity and shock was probably covering my stupid face.
I think my dick even went a little limp based on the almost vicious squeeze he gave it before he let go and shoved me off.
"Hey, wait, I'm sorry I was just surprised."
He made a clearly annoyed sound as he pulled his shirt back on and slapped away my hands as I tried to stop him.
"Hanna, wait I'm sorry it's okay."
"No just… Conrad… Not now" Was all I got before he was out the door.
Fuck.