I hope there are no spelling errors, I can imagine I'll be editing it after posting. Can someone tell me if I should change the rating?

"A great topic for discussion, a lengthy discussion..." Jon had abandoned the picnic.

But surely he could eat and talk? Sansa was dithering in the centre of the chamber, it was her turn to look gormless. Especially if Jon was going to sit there languorously, legs spread, patting one of his knees to try and coax her into sitting on him. By him, she meant the knee and nothing else. "What?"

Pat pat pat.

She was incensed, she felt like she was about to be scolded or lectured. "I'm alright over here, thank you, I'm not some child."And she perched on the bed.

"No you certainly aren't...shall I join you on the bed?"

"No." The Queen stood and marched over before he had the chance to make a move. He wistfully watched her approach, the teeth grinding disconcerted her. Mercy. Sansa stood over him anxiously, calculating the point of this gesture. But she still stepped between his legs and lowered herself onto his knee, with her side and elbow touching his chest. A noise escaped her when he suddenly jolted her by bouncing his knee. "Ohu." His arm came up and around to support her back, it was a firm hold, enough for Sansa to know it was safe, when his hand moved slightly, she knew it was to stroke her.

"There...cosy." Jon rumbled and he saw her gulp, and she tried to hum in agreement. "Don't be scared, it's only me, sweetheart."

"Is this your way of explaining a made up word?" She noted the cheese wheel was wrecked, which was the same state her nerves were in. "Probably a word invented by men to describe a woman's happi-"

"-Stop right there, it's a real word, and as it so happens; men get them too, they get them all the time, as do the women, and so will you."Jon bounced her again, and she put a hand to his shoulder, in case he boinged her off. "So you know vaguely what it is?"

"From what I've gathered." From her sigh of resignation, he noted she didn't seem bothered. "It's an involuntary noise."

Oh how sweet. Jon sucked in his lips to stifle a snigger. "The noise..."He was staring down into her lap, looking a little bit higher was difficult since he could see the curve of her bust."-Is part of it, but it's the feeling you get with it. That's the important part." The breasts were a good size for such a young woman. "I can only assume it feels the same way as it does for a man."

"Never assume, Jon snow."

And he bounced her again in retaliation, and she expelled that surprised noise- the one he was starting to enjoy. That, and the bouncy boobs. "Then why do they sound like they enjoy it?" It was a little cocksure of him, but he received a very degrading look. He knew nothing, apparently.

Sansa bit her lip, something was about to burst from her. She looked annoyed, and Jon wanted to stroke that frown away. "It's no fun being breached." Sansa began, her voice on the verge of being melodramatic. "It's painful, it's awkward, uncomfortable, and it insults me...no, assaults me, it's about as joyous as falling off a horse!"

He was expecting her to ask more about the word. Jon recoiled slightly, but returned to get a good grip on her. "You know, it's not supposed to be like...that." He winced as if he had said a foul word.

"Well it was. At least one woman in this world can be honest about it." She said defensively. "And even if it was some other way- I can't fain interest like some women." Her arms folded rapidly before her. "I suppose some women have to master the art of fain-ing, I don't see the point."

He looked at her perplexed; though when he was perplexed, he looked gormless. "Right..." Clearly not understanding her meaning. He narrowed his eyes sceptically. "Explain what you mean, love, I don't follow your drift."

"Which part?"

"To fain something...?" He rumbled, looking at her darkly as if she had revealed a foul plot.

"Women pretend to enjoy breaching." She summed it up quite well- she thought. "That's why they make those weird noises, they are trying to hide their pain by matching the gentleman's noises." She said matter-of-factly. "Because men are the only ones who enjoy it." She jabbed at him as if she had made a valid point.

"Says who?"

She knew he would complain. Sansa straightened her back. "Men go to brothels, they will always go to brothels- because they enjoy it so much. Women don't go to brothels." She clasped her hands on her lap. "If the ladies enjoyed it...wouldn't they seek it?"

"That's cause..." It hung in the air like a noose. "They just...don't."

That wasn't a good argument. "Yes, because they don't feel the need to, it isn't recreational for them."

"They have better restraint." The King wasn't penetrating this wall of determination that Sansa had built, because he chose piss poor come backs. "Women can suppress their urges." He tried to explain. "Some men can suppress their urges..." He suddenly dropped the arm that was around her back- as if trying to prove a point. "It takes practice and skill." He gave a little nod.

Now he was blowing his own trumpet. The Queen scoffed at him, refolding her arms. "Women are designed not to enjoy it."

"That's a crock of shit."

She gasped, and he did a mock snarl in retort. Sansa unfolded her arms, to clasp her hands prettily in her lap, again- she just didn't know what to do with her hands. "You hate the truth, now you know all women feel pain."

"That's cause they're doing it wrong!" His tone was that of a pre-adolescent boy in protest.

"Maybe the men are doing it wrong?" Sansa shrugged.

Jon began to brood, studying her face from under his curls with calculation. "Maybe that's why they go to brothels?.. To get practice." He grumbled, then shook it off. "-But that's not the point I was going to make." He gathered himself for a blow. "What...Ramsay-" It pained him. "-Did...wasn't the real thing."

Sansa did a loud inhale, preparing herself for a trip down to the darkness. "It seemed pretty real to me." That suggested to him that was her final remark. No more, no more.

And he shook his head, his arm snuck to her back again. "He didn't love you...that's what made it not real. He was doing it for other reasons."

"Power, dominance...heirs."

"Yes." There was no disputing that. "And I'm sorry, he has tainted a very good thing." He looked mad, and he calmed himself- he did that by bouncing her again, and she gripped him tightly. "Orgasms are like... the bookends of the ritual, particularly the end." He felt up the length of her spine, and she moved with it- as if it was sensitive. "And it's no good if it's just the man getting them, I think it's a little selfish for a man to hog all the..."He waved his hand in front of her, hoping she would fill in the blanks. "-Feeling."

"Yes, they should share the feel of the pain."

"An orgasm isn't pain!" He said testily, rubbing his beard. Don't kick any chairs. "It's like a very good ache- that explodes..."

"The men explode, I know this, they explode alright." She stated rather awkwardly. "Women don't expel anything, so they have no need to explode, they're clean."

"No that's different...that the men's-" Ejaculation. He didn't want to use the actual words, he rapped irritably on the table, before soldiering on. "Women have the sensation of pure bliss without...expelling anything, well they do...expel some stuff." Fuck."They sort of contract around the man's-"

"-How do you know all this?" Sansa looked at him shrewdly. "Is this in a book?"

Sweet girl. "No Sansa, it's common knowledge."

"Told amongst men?" She was sharp.

The King looked off to the side. This was a trap, a trap to prove that men make all the rules and tell the stories."No, women talk about it too."

"I've never heard about it, I wouldn't dream of talking about it, and women don't approach me with the subject." Sansa was adamant.

"That's 'cause you're a lady." He said fondly, but his mind was on a predicament on whether he was going to tell his wife about 'his first time' with Ygritte. "I also know from...witnessing a woman having an orgasm." He bit the inside of his cheek.

His wife looked very serious, and she shifted uncomfortably on his knee. "You have?"

For a second he thought she was going to ask, how, when, and who- and to whether he was a virgin? But he saw something play on her mind before she spoke.

"How do you know she wasn't in discomfort, and she wasn't pretending?" Men don't understand the pain. "I can imagine a lot of women wish they were completely numb down there." Her husband's hand, the one he reserved for rapping on the table, or gesturing, suddenly dropped onto her lap, dangerously close to her flower, his thumb very close to grazing her mound. Erm.

"Are you numb down there?"

How forward of him. The Queen stared at the hand dangerously, or more so- as if it were dangerous. "No, unfortunately." The hand remained, and she squeezed her legs shut, Jon obviously felt the change and brought his hand back to the table.

"You have to want it, in order to get an orgasm, you need a build up, and it has to be a painless and comfortable build up. When you're uptight- everything literally tightens." His hand did a clenching motion. Jon found himself picturing Ramsay over his wife, and it took him out of his explanation and the positives he was going to make. Shit. "When it tightens, I assume it makes every time feel like your first time." He looked at her in query, wanting to know if he was right, and she simply nodded. "The only way to compensate this, is to-" He didn't know what to call it. "Tickle, play, and canoodle." He said thoughtfully. "It defuses the tension, and makes everything..." He grunted, she was paying close attention to him. "Slippery." Jon added quickly.

"Unstable and awkward?" She was reading it as a metaphor for haphazardness.

"No I meant, literally slippery, women have stuff that-"He was getting embarrassed, the blood rushed to his face- the best place for it, at the moment. "Basically women have..." Jon was no maester. "Special fluid, just like men." Just say pre-cum. Jon bounced her again, to get her a little bit away from his crotch, clearing his throat to draw any attention away from anything unusual. "It allows for-" Efficient fucking. "-Err... easier painless-." Fucking. "-Breaching." It's easier talking to men about such things, you can cuss and get as graphic as you want. Perhaps he should have Tormund come up and explain it to the Queen? "Have you ever..." Sansa stared at him with a mixture of horror and apprehension. "-Had a really slimy feeling...down-." He indicated downwards with his head, and waited.

"No."

"Moistness?"

"No."

Jon wondered if that was a lie, or she just never had because she didn't get excited. Ramsay probably took her when she was dry."Right." He then conveyed something with interest, it was right in front of him. "What about hardened nipples?"

"No." She was staring into space, supposedly disinterested.

He fixated on the things that had betrayed her. "Really?" It probably didn't mean anything, but he didn't understand why she would lie over something so natural- and was happening right at that moment, surely she knew he could see? He realised he could fondle them, to draw attention to the fact they were there, or teach her how useful they were, when it came to the pre-ritual of love making. Love making? You're such a girl. His mouth had become very wet, and he wiped at his mouth. "Anyway, it's up to you what, and when you want to learn." Stop looking at them. He nudged her up and off his knee, and she stood in surprise. Jon didn't let her go straight away, he held her poised by the side of his chair. "Sansa." He stroked her side, and motioned towards her hand. "We're good, aren't we?" He managed to manoeuvre her to face him full on in front of his chair, and snare her other hand. "No trips into darkness..?"

"Only in my dreams, they're all in my story." She smiled sadly. "You'll see, I'm nearly finished."

Her husband just nodded, processing every feature on her face; the moles, the angle of her nose, and her cupid's bow. Sweet lemon flavoured Sansa. He brought his arms around her rear and pulled her in, to hug her about the hip. The side of his face flush against her nightie, he tipped his head to look up at her.

The Queen had to touch his face, that sweet innocent face of his, she fingered his forehead and closed his eyes. Her fingers moved over his brow and lightly over his lid. He did a hard exhale and it rippled the stomach of her nightie. That tickled. His lips pursed to the side, and he sneakily kissed her belly. Her stomach contracted and he hummed, pushing himself down...down. Where's he going? She knew, he was getting close, he was breathing on it, she could feel it through the fabric, and then he kissed it. Odd. Lightly at first as a test, and then he kissed her mound hard. Oh- that was low, and that definitely tickled. Her stomach contracted violently as he tipped his head and kissed under, right on her flower, hard enough to moisten her nightie. "Ooh." That was loud, and the shuddery breath that followed made him look up at her darkly- his eyes were nearly black, and his mouth obscured by her mound, he was under, breathing her in. The fabric was wet with steam and spit, after a moment of staring into those eyes, she suddenly felt his tongue come out and poke into the cotton, to try and skim under her- "Uuh!." Sansa rapidly stumbled back in surprise, Jon had to let go, or else he would have been dragged out of his chair.

"Woaw easy!" He spoke to her like a spooked horse again, his hands were up in defence- but reaching out to soothe her. The blackness had left his eye. "Alright!- I should have warned you I was going to do that." He rasped, trying to talk her out of fleeing. The Queen was holding herself slightly bent up as if cowering from a strike. "Sweetheart." He soothed, his eyes were very apologetic.

"Erm...I'm fine." Clearly she wasn't. She swallowed, trying to remain calm. He touched her with his tongue. "Let's pretend that didn't happen." Her knees were knocking together as her lower half shook. She could still feel it. Sansa looked to Jon for an explanation, but he just looked deflated, she found she had to put him at ease- for some reason. "I'm fine." She tucked her hair behind her ear, insecurely. "That wasn't the worst thing in the world." She straightened, and shuffled unsteadily to the bed. Sansa felt the prickle of breast against her nightie, not to mention a lot of moisture...down there. She felt everywhere was extremely sensitive, she concealed all, under the sheets after she climbed into bed.

Jon was bracing himself on his knees, like he was exhausted.

"Jon?"

"Hm?" He peered over at her, as if in a state of shock.

"Maybe you should lay off your picnic." She fidgeted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. She could still feel the tongue- gods! She looked over at the door. "Get Ghost in here, he'll calm us, and let's just sleep."

It took him 5 minutes to leave that chair and do her bidding. Jon's breaths were shallow, and she noticed he kept nudging his braies, tugging at them, and checking they were in place.