Author's Notes: This chapter is mostly seen from Maeve's point of view but we do see Otis' POV eventually.

Warning: Lots and lots of fairly explicit foreplay.

I still don't know whether I've slipped off that tightrope but it's probably too late to turn back now.

Chapter 13

Maeve lay barefoot on her bed on her side and watched Otis as he paced back and forth talking into his phone.

"Yes, mum. I know. Thanks. Alright, mum, I know. I'll see you in the morning," he said, sounding slightly frustrated.

He hung up the phone and turned to Maeve, sighing.

"She's okay with you staying?" Maeve asked.

"Of course. That was never going to be an issue."

"What did she say that made you freak?"

"She wanted to be sure we were using condoms in the initial phase of our relationship."

Maeve smiled. "There's some in the drawer if we need them."

"I'm not sure I could go that far tonight, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

"I know," Maeve said. "But they're there if we need them."

Maeve patted the bed beside herself.

"Now take your feet off and get on the bed, muppet," she said with a smile.

Otis smiled and sat on the edge of the bed and started taking his shoes off.

Maeve studied his posture and asked quietly, "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Otis said after a pause.

"It's okay to be nervous," she said softly.

Otis nodded.

"We don't have to do anything if you're having second thoughts," Maeve said gently. "We can just kiss. Cuddle. I don't mind."

Otis finished removing his shoes and socks and shoved them under the bed then turned to her.

"If that's what you want, Maeve," he said then lay back on the bed beside her, turning to face her. "I don't want you to feel obliged."

Maeve smiled gently at him. "I told you yesterday, muppet, I want to fuck your brains out but if you're only doing this because I want it, don't."

"I do want to try but I don't want you to think that I'm just reducing you to…" he waved his hand slightly.

"I don't, Otis, unless you think I'm reducing you to that," she nodded in the direction of his penis then snorted a chuckle and said, "Christ, we're like those fucking squirrels."

Otis frowned, puzzled.

"You know," Maeve said then adopted a very polite tone. "'After you.' 'No, after you.' 'No, I insist. After you.'"

Otis nodded in recognition, smiling. "Chip 'n' Dale."

"They're the ones," Maeve said brightly.

"They're actually chipmunks."

"Whatever," Maeve shrugged.

Otis smiled and leaned forward and Maeve met him for a tender kiss.

"Let's just start with this, Otis," she said quietly. "And this time you don't have to try to stop yourself getting a boner, okay?"

Otis nodded, smiling ruefully.

"Just one thing…" Maeve began.

"What?" Otis asked.

"You're going to have to remember to use your safe word if you need to."

Otis hesitated then nodded slowly.

"I mean it, Otis. You're nervous and that's okay. I was nervous my first time with a guy. But if you're going to have a panic attack because something is a bit too much, you need to let me know so I can stop because I may not recognise it."

"I'll remember it," Otis promised.

"Remember to use it," Maeve urged softly.

"If it's too much, I'll use it, Maeve," Otis said.

"Good," Maeve said softly, then leant forward and kissed him before rolling onto her back and smiling up at him. "Now come on, let's start revving ourselves up."

Otis smiled and shuffled closer to Maeve and bent his head down and kissed her and he felt the same familiar tingle as the first time on their bench when her tongue flicked his.

Maeve took a soft breath as their latest kiss ended then stared softly into Otis' eyes. His kisses were so much better than any other guy she had ever kissed and if she thought she had been lubed up when they sitting on the couch – and she was - that was nothing compared to the way she was now feeling.

She felt a moment's disappointment that she couldn't just ask him to slip inside her but as she looked into his clear blue loving eyes and saw none of the nervousness she had noticed while he was taking off his shoes and socks, she decided his permission to push a little still applied.

"So… you ready to try for second base?" she breathed.

Otis seemed a little surprised as he murmured, "Are you sure? So soon?"

"Yeah," Maeve murmured, nodding, then continued watching his eyes as he swallowed and committed to taking the next step. She saw movement of his shoulder out of the corner of her eye and let her breath hitch in anticipation of the touch of his hands on her breast.

She was only a little surprised when she felt his fingers gently touch her inner thigh and slowly move upwards.

"Um," she began softly, "it's okay if you want to go for my pussy now but I meant my boobs, Otis."

Otis frowned, his fingers stopping their movement but still resting gently on her thigh.

"I thought you said 'second base'?" he asked.

"Isn't that boobs?" Maeve asked.

"I thought it was genitalia," Otis said, raising his hand from her thigh and leaning back slightly. "Dad said breasts were first base, genitalia were second base, oral sex was third base and full intercourse was a home run."

"See that's what I thought," Maeve said earnestly, "but Aimee said kissing was first base, boobs were second, cocks and pussies were third and fucking was a home run. And she got that from an American."

"So we can go with that definition?"

Maeve pressed her lips together and shook her head and said, "This baseball thing is fucking stupid. We're not American. Boobs, Otis. You can touch my boobs if you want to."

Otis smiled at her as he leant over to kiss her again. "We're lucky people didn't make up a cricket metaphor. Can you imagine what a silly mid-off would be?"

Maeve smirked. "Probably something anatomically impossible."

Otis kissed her again then stared into her eyes as he slowly, carefully placed his hand on her right breast and gently squeezed.

Maeve drew in a slow pleased breath and raised her lips to his.

"Do you mind if I take my bra off?" she asked.

Otis' breath hitched and he nodded. "Yes."

Maeve frowned at him in surprise and he realised.

"I meant no. I meant…"

Maeve smirked at him and raised her eyebrows and kept silent.

Otis rolled his eyes at himself then gazed at her. "Would you mind taking your bra off, Maeve?"

"Of course not," Maeve smiled.

As Otis rolled onto his back and watched her, she sat up and reached behind herself and undid the clasp to her bra then engaged in a few minor contortions before dragging it out the sleeve of her top closest to Otis.

She smiled at Otis and dropped it on his chest then waited as he appreciated the curves of her breasts visible beneath the transparency of her top.

"You like?" she asked.

"You're beautiful, Maeve," said Otis, his voice raw. "I'm sorry if that's objectification."

Maeve smiled and moved to lean over him. "You're handsome and you're cute and you have incredibly gorgeous blue eyes, Otis, and if the way it felt pressing against me yesterday is any indication, you have a really decent-sized cock to boot."

Otis flinched slightly at her bluntness.

Maeve smiled softly at him. "There. My objectification of you," she said as she bent her head down to kiss him, her breasts pressing against his arm.

"You didn't like me calling it your cock?" she asked when the kiss ended and she brushed her bra off his chest and onto the floor.

"It's a common term," Otis said with a shrug.

"Would you have preferred I used 'decent-sized penis' instead?" she asked, smirking fondly.

"Whatever term you like, Maeve."

"It is a decent-size cock, Otis, if that's one of the things you've been worried about."

"No, I've… I've studied the surveys," he said sheepishly.

"And you've measured it," she said blandly.

"Do you always talk this way in these situations, Maeve?"

"No," she said gently. "But you can still be so clinical, Otis. You need to talk like a sixteen-year-old."

"I've been getting better in the clinic ever since that first session with Olivia."

"I know, but outside the clinic you still talk breasts, genitalia, oral sex, intercourse."

"That's valid terminology."

"But it's a way of distancing yourself from sex, isn't it?"

Maeve saw she had hit the target.

"Maybe it would help you feel more comfortable if you weren't so clinical," she said softly.

Otis studied her for a moment then smirked. "You just want me to talk dirty, don't you? You like dirty talk."

"I can't claim there aren't benefits I get from you talking like a sixteen-year-old," she said, eyes glittering.

Otis leaned forward and tenderly kissed her.

"Boobs, cock, pussy, sucking me off, licking you out, fucking," he said defiantly.

Maeve smiled. "Good boy, but you forgot fingering and handjobs and coming," she said and kissed him.

"Thank you," Otis said after a moment and Maeve thought there was a raw edge to his voice.

"For what?"

"For being patient with me."

Maeve sighed fondly. "I love you, Otis. I want to feel you inside me. I'm just doing whatever I can to help you be more comfortable with that idea."

Maeve watched Otis swallow and knew the idea of him being inside her was both appealing and discomforting.

"I just hope I'm not making things worse," she said softly.

"It's helping," he said equally as softly.

"You seem nervous again," she said uncertainly.

"No," said Otis after a moment.

"Prove it," she said softly.

She rolled onto her back and watched him as he moved to lean over her, glancing at her breasts through her top then looking into her eyes.

Maeve smiled softly at him. "Just imagine if I hadn't worn a bra in the pool that day," she said quietly.

He swallowed then raised his hand to gently rest it on her breast and she drew in a soft breath as he gently squeezed and brought his mouth down to kiss her.

Maeve closed her eyes and sighed as Otis gently massaged her breast and tweaked her nipple through the fabric of her thin top. She had imagined this moment many times, either after imagining kissing him on the bridge or imagining kissing him in the pool, but neither scenario had prepared her for the actual feel of his hand on her.

He was so much more tender than any of the handful of guys who had previously been in this position with her and so much more understanding of the ways of touching her and caressing her that felt good to her. He wasn't just grabbing a huge chunk of Maeve Wiley boob and squeezing and calling that foreplay.

And this was only one boob and not even against her bare flesh, though her top was thin enough that there might not be that much difference.

She let out another deep sigh as she imagined his fingers touching her clit and slipping inside her and she knew that however good she imagined his touch would have been sliding his hand under her dress on the bridge or down her shorts in the pool, the reality would be so much more intense – whenever it occurred.

She hoped it would occur tonight.

When she no longer felt his hand on her breast, Maeve opened her eyes and looked up at him as he stared down at her then his fingers were on the bare skin at her waist where her top had ridden up.

"Lift up," he murmured.

Maeve raised herself slightly and his fingers slowly moved upward, her top being dragged as they went until finally her breast was exposed completely to his view.

He glanced at it then began gently running his fingers around her nipple again.

"Lefty's feeling neglected," she murmured.

"I've been playing with your left breast," he said.

"That's righty," Maeve said with a smile.

"Are you directionally challenged, Maeve?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"I was looking in the mirror when I first called them that and I got sick of all the 'do you mean your left or my left' thing."

Maeve watched him smile and then his hand moved her top to uncover her other breast.

"I was thinking of getting them tattooed with their names," she continued.

"Where would you put them?" Otis asked.

"Underboob."

Otis gently stroked the underside of her breast. "You mean here?"

"Mm-mm," she nodded.

Otis moved his fingers gently across her breast and then gently squeezed her nipple and studied her reaction.

Maeve hissed in a gentle breath and nodded at him.

Otis smiled gently at her and turned his gaze back to her neglected breast, gently wet his lips then bent over and tenderly kissed her nipple before flicking it with his tongue.

Maeve drew in another quick breath then, as Otis planted brief tender kisses all across the skin of her breast, murmured, "Do that again."

Otis smiled then leant over her other breast and planted a kiss on her other nipple before flicking it with his tongue.

Maeve thought calling Otis a sexual savant near the beginning of the clinic was simply in regard to his understanding of sex and relationships and people but as he continued gently massaging and kissing her breasts and tweaking and kissing her nipples she realised his understanding went deeper than the mere theoretical.

She was more aroused at this point than she had ever been - even at the next stage - with any of the other guys she had fucked – even Jackson, who really was properly good at it – and she wondered if those women who had told her about titplay giving them orgasms had not been exaggerating as she believed they had been. She didn't think her nipples had ever been as sensitive as they were tonight under Otis' tender teasing loving care.

The surprising thing was she had not had to tell him anything. Not how hard to squeeze nor how much to tweak nor which movements of his tongue on and around her nipples brought the greatest sense of pleasure tingling through her. Nor – after that first time - when to switch his teasing from one breast to the other nor when to take a break and lift his mouth to hers and use his tongue to gently tease her own.

Nor – and this was new tonight – when to, briefly, rarely and oh-so-gently, bite her lip and – of course, this was also new tonight – briefly, rarely and oh-so-gently let his teeth capture her nipples between them.

Nor when to place his lips over her nipples and suck gently with just the exact amount of force to feel better than just good but not too hard that he was hurting her.

Even Jackson – who really was properly good at it – had to be told a few things.

Aimee was wrong. Otis was already the Pleasure Champion.

As Otis' tongue slowly circled lefty's nipple yet again, Maeve imagined that tongue lingering over her little labs and flicking her clit and only realised that her hand had moved between her legs when her fingers felt the dampness of her pussy soaking her pants.

She slowly moved her hand away from her legs and opened her eyes to see Otis watching her reactions to the movements of his tongue and she smiled gently at him.

"You're really revving me up, Otis," she murmured.

Otis gave her a smile and then gently sucked on her nipple, watching as she hitched a breath.

"I'm glad I'm doing it right," he said.

"Is that why you've been nervous? That you wouldn't do things right?"

Otis shrugged.

"So far you've been great, Pleasure Champion."

Otis smiled gently at Maeve then bent his head again so his mouth and tongue could play gently with her other nipple.

Maeve breathed in sharply then whispered, "Muppet?"

Otis looked at her questioningly.

"Would you touch my pussy?"

Otis startled slightly and Maeve realised it was too much.

"I'm sorry. It's okay," she said quickly. "We can still just do this. This is really nice. More than nice."

Otis looked away from her and Maeve could see him reflect for a moment then he turned back to her.

"I haven't said my safe word, Maeve," he said softly.

"I don't want things to be too much for you, Otis," she said softly.

Otis gazed fondly at her then shifted position and Maeve almost gasped as she felt his erection pressing against her leg.

He smiled gently at her reaction. "I didn't try to stop it happening this time."

Maeve gently touched his cheek. "I can tell."

"I haven't freaked out about it either. I've just… let it exist."

"Do you want me to touch it?" Maeve asked.

"Not yet," Otis said then continued. "Do you want me to touch your va—" he stopped and began again. "Do you want me to touch your pussy, Maeve?"

"I don't want you to think you have to, Otis. I can…"

She hesitated then watched a fond smirk rise on Otis' lips.

"I can always handle it myself," she said almost shyly. "I might have to bring out Eustace or Bettina, though."

Otis frowned in puzzlement.

"They're in the bottom drawer," Maeve almost whispered.

Otis drew in a soft breath and Maeve knew the idea of watching her relieving herself with either her vibrator or her dildo or both was turning him on even more than he already demonstrably was.

She bit her lip. "I can bring them out if you want. I don't mind you watching. I… like the idea," she said quietly.

Otis shook his head. "Not tonight," he said then moved his lips toward hers for a very tender then very passionate kiss.

"Do you want me to touch your pussy, Maeve," he asked, gently but firmly.

She drew in a long breath. "Please," Maeve whispered.

Maeve closed her eyes and felt her chest rising and falling in time with the deep breaths she was taking as the feeling between her legs intensified in anticipation of Otis' fingers making their presence known down there.

When she felt Otis' fingers touch her inner thigh she parted her legs a little more than they already were and murmured, "I'm really wet down there, Otis. Just so you know."

She felt a tingle shudder through her as his fingers whispered higher along her thigh and his boner pressed fiercely against her.

She realised something and opened her eyes to look at him. "Oh, and I should warn you. My boobs don't explode if you touch them but my pussy might."

Otis gave a small chuckle and paused the movement of his fingers. He looked at Maeve, smirking gently and she was amazed that there seemed to be none of the nervousness of inexperience she had assumed would still be in his eyes or in his voice. "My cock likely has the same issue," he said.

Maeve smiled at him. "I'll bear that in mind."

Otis turned away to watch his hand slowly move up Maeve's thigh, pushing her skirt up with it.

"And I'll try to keep the volume down tonight," Maeve continued. "But sometimes I can make a bit of noise especially when I'm coming."

Otis fingers stopped their movement and began tracing a holding pattern on her leg.

"Can't be worse than mum," Otis murmured.

"What?"

"Mum can get very loud when… mid-coitus… and the sound travels in that house."

"Going to have to think of another good place to fuck then."

Otis' fingers stopped their movement and he looked at her.

"I thought we were isolated enough that I could really let myself go," Maeve continued. "Can't do that here or at school."

"You've had sex at school?" Otis asked, surprised.

"Uh-huh," Maeve said. "It's really good. The thought that someone could come in any moment and catch us."

"Where?"

Maeve smiled softly at him. "Broom closet. Textbook storeroom. Empty offices. Did it once in that room we had the first proper clinic."

Otis swallowed and Maeve could see his nervousness return. "I'm not sure I could do that," he said quietly then looked away from her and began stroking a pattern on her leg once more.

"Aimee says the old toilet block is really good," Maeve continued. "It's so grotty and wrong that it makes everything that much more intense."

Otis continued gently stroking her leg and Maeve watched his thoughts turn inwards.

"We could try fucking there if you like," she said quietly. "When you're ready."

"We'll see. Maybe," Otis murmured before taking a breath to bring himself back to the present and looking at Maeve lying half-naked beside him. "Now, shoosh, if you want me to do this and get it right."

"You'll get it right," Maeve murmured then fell silent, watching him.

As his fingers began to continue their slow journey northward, she saw the tension or whatever that had been present when she talked about them fucking was dissipating.

He clearly wanted to and he wasn't freaking out the way he had earlier but actual penetrative sex with her was obviously still a step beyond his comfort zone.

When his fingers finally reached the damp fabric of her pants and he slowly stroked her downstairs lips all thought of his still-present reluctance to fuck vanished from her mind.

Maeve's breath hitched and hitched again at the feel of Otis' finger carefully, tenderly circling her clitoris before gently brushing across it and then sliding lower to once more stroke her labia. She involuntarily clenched her lower cheeks together and unconsciously lifted her hips slightly to increase the pressure of his fingers against her vag.

She didn't care if Otis would tell her it was technically her vulva he was playing with.

She hadn't quite exploded at his initial touch but she came close and a flicker of amusement crossed her mind at the almost pun before Otis' finger again gently brushed across her clit and back again and she could never remember another person's hand ever making her feel the way this inexperienced virgin was making her feel.

Was it only because he was the son of two sex therapists who had clearly been taught a lot over the years and was now able to move beyond the nervousness of his inexperience and apply those teachings to the first woman he had wanted to be with who was wanting to be with him in return?

Or was it because she loved him in a way she had never loved any of the guys or girls she had ever been with before, most of whom were just fuck-buddies to her and none of whom had ever made her heart and pussy ache the way Otis had been making them ache these past few months?

She wanted it to be mainly because she finally loved someone who was kind and smart and supportive and sexy in his wonderfully offbeat and awkward way and then she felt the cusp of the first wave wash through her and her thoughts focussed on that paradoxically gentle but intense feeling until it passed.

It obviously wasn't the strongest orgasm she had ever had nor was it the gentlest but Maeve knew this was the sweetest because it was caused by this man she loved clearly caring about her pleasure and using his knowledge and those inexperienced fingers to attend to her in the way she hoped she would be able to attend to him when the time came.

It was also the only deliberately-induced orgasm she had ever had while not feeling the touch of the other person's flesh directly against her own flesh down there.

Damn these fucking pants.

"Otis," she breathed and opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with a shimmer in his eyes that could have been tears and for a moment she worried that he had pushed himself too far in order to give her what he knew she was wanting but then she felt his finger still gently stroking her little labs and watched a soft smile cross his lips.

"Did you come?" he asked and there seemed to be a tender undercurrent in his voice.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, relieved he seemed to be okay. "A little one. It was beautiful," she assured him and he could clearly see she wanted more where that came from.

"You mewled," Otis said.

She nodded. "I told you I make noises."

"Like a kitten," he said.

"Baby lion," Maeve said then asked, "Do you mind if I take these pants off?"

"I don't mind," he said softly and slowly removed his hand from between her legs and there was another undercurrent in his tone that she couldn't quite recognize.

Maeve raised her hips and reached her hands under her skirt and dragged her pants down her legs and over her feet. She sat up, tossed her pants across the room then leant closer to Otis and kissed him the sloppiest and hardest kiss they had had to this point and she smiled against his mouth as he responded to the passion she was feeling.

"You are so far beyond a Pleasure Champion already, muppet," she sighed in amazement when the kiss finished. "And we've still got a ways to go."

Otis was about to speak but she kissed him again and he responded again.

When their lips broke apart, she asked, "So did you see it?"

"What?" Otis asked, confused.

"My pussy. When I took my pants off. Did you get a glimpse of it?"

Otis shook his head.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked, biting her lip.

Otis studied her then said, cautiously, "I was hoping it would remain a mystery box a little while longer."

Maeve smiled. "'Mystery box'," she murmured, shaking her head, lips pressed together in a smile.

"You don't like that one?" Otis asked, still cautiously.

"It's a good one, muppet," Maeve said. "We can use it. 'Otis and I are just going off to solve a mystery.' 'Had a bit of a mystery last night.' 'Let's take a ride on the Magical Mystery Tour.'"

Otis smiled fondly at her. "People will know what we're talking about, Maeve."

"Not to start off with, they won't."

"Lie down, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

Maeve noticed her top had dropped down to cover her boobs again and she reached for the hem and pulled it over her head and tossed it aside then lay back on the bed staring up at the man she hoped she would grow old with.

Otis smiled tenderly at her, glanced down at her breasts then bent over lefty and, looking mischievously into Maeve's eyes, murmured, "Hello, old friend," and kissed and gently sucked her nipple.

Maeve smiled as he moved his head to righty and, still looking mischievously at her, whispered, "And you," and kissed and gently sucked that nipple as well.

"They say hello back," Maeve murmured as Otis raised his head to hers and kissed her tenderly.

"Boobs can't talk, Maeve."

"They talk to me."

"What do they say?"

"That you're the Grand Pleasure Master Champion Poobah of my Universe."

Otis shook his head and raised his hand to press two fingers gently against her upstairs lips. "Shoosh," he whispered.

Maeve wondered if he would be grossed out if she flicked her tongue out to taste herself on him.

Maeve hitched a breath as Otis' fingers directly touched her downstairs lips again without the annoying and distancing intervention of her pants and then she slowly exhaled as his fingers gently stroked inside them.

She thought for a moment that she was being selfish and should ask him if he now wanted her to touch his cock but then his bare finger brushed gently across her naked clit and a surge of pleasure so close to pain washed through her driving his needs and desires from her mind.

Her clit was so sensitive tonight even before he had made her come.

Not even Jackson - who really was properly good at it and who had spent a lot of time using his fingers and his tongue to ensure she was pleasurably sated – even he had never made her feel this sensitive. Almost, but not quite this.

Maeve moaned softly as Otis' fingers brushed across her clit again and then moved down to stroke inside her little labs again.

The absence when his fingers stopping touching her down there made her entire body ache.

"Maeve," Otis said quietly.

Maeve opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, holding his working hand before her, fingertips facing away from her.

"Do you mind if I touch inside your pussy?" he asked almost shyly.

Maeve realised he was presenting his fingernails for inspection and after a quick glance at them she nodded. "Two, if you like, Otis," she murmured then bit her lip in anticipation as his hand slowly made its way under her skirt again and his fingers again started gently stroking her labia lips and brushing across her clit.

She hoped he was watching her reaction to his touch and wouldn't take too long before finding his way inside her and then she was arching her back slightly as he pushed the tips of two fingers gently past her entrance and slowly turned them to stretch her open.

"Fuuuck," she moaned and wouldn't have been surprised if she came again while he slid them further into her.

He had made her so horny tonight.

Otis made no further motion and Maeve knew he was studying her reaction and she said without opening her eyes, "That was a good 'fuuuck', muppet. Keep going."

Otis slowly moved his fingers deeper inside her until he could push no further without hurting her and then—

He went straight for it. No asking directions. No fumbling around until he found it. Straight for it and gently but firmly stroking it.

She hated the real name for it and wished she could have found a better term for it than girl button but tonight with Otis' fingers working away on it she knew she was going to be launched into the upper stratosphere if not beyond.

Without conscious thought she reached down and grabbed his boner through his jeans.

Otis breathed deeply as his fingers inside Maeve's vagina stroked her G-spot and he hoped he was still doing this right.

She had seemed pleased all night as he had moved from kissing her and then gently playing with her breasts and then gently playing with her vulva.

He wasn't sure if he had been going to slip over into a panic attack the first time he kissed her nipple and flicked his tongue across it but she had been mostly keeping her eyes closed and letting the sensations he was generating for her wash through her and he was sure he had managed to conceal the beyond-nervousness roiling behind his eyes when she finally did open her own eyes to look at him.

He really was sure the façade was going to fall the first time he touched Maeve's labia minora and clitoris but he seemed to have given her the impression that all he was feeling was the normal things a boy his age and his inclination would be feeling when he touched a partner's pussy for the first time and he managed to keep the memories (mostly) behind their too fragile barrier.

His breathing exercises helped.

Knowing that the second and third time he did something usually proved to be easier than the first time helped.

Seeing the pleasure wash across Maeve's face helped the most as he kept stimulating her in the spots and in the manner his mother and his father had both mentioned as the areas to pay attention to if he wanted to be sure his partner was enjoying herself also. Or himself, they had explained, though with less detail since they assumed he would know his own body by the time he was engaging in foreplay and could adapt to please a male partner if he had had one.

Little did they know how little he would know himself by the time these moments had rolled around.

He wondered if either of them had ever realised how age-inappropriate their teachings were, giving him intimate knowledge of sexuality before he was old enough to truly understand the nuances of everything they were saying to him.

He wondered about having normal non-sex therapist parents who dealt with his questions in the manner most parents would have done.

Was too little information worse than too much?

The clinic made him ponder the question without ever finding an answer since the knowledge and methods of research that helped him assist (most) of their clients certainly seemed to be useless when it came to himself.

Philip Larkin was right.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

Dad didn't mean to let Otis see he was fucking one of his patients which led to Otis asking his mother why his father was naked with that women which led to his parents arguing loudly enough that they had clearly both forgotten their only child was in the house and hearing every word they said.

Mum didn't mean to let Otis see her throwing plates and cups at dad while repeating every moment Otis had spoken of to her. She was shocked and hurt and angry and didn't mean to let Otis know that sex destroyed lives and allow him to make the connection between the words Otis had told her and the yelling and screaming that only afterward began happening between his parents. She hadn't meant to let Otis realise that he was the one who had destroyed the life she had been living with his father.

Mum and dad didn't mean to live phantom lives in his head, re-enacting those moments over and over so he would never forget that he was the reason for the divorce and that he was his father's son and that everything his father did Otis could do as well and that the only punishment suitable for the boy who destroyed a marriage was to be alone and carry out his penitence for the rest of his life.

His friendship with Eric was the only respite from that penitence and he had been learning to exist comfortably enough within it even if he couldn't be said to be actively embracing it.

Until final day of fifth form.

Until he heard a mean voice from down the corridor say, "Hey, cock-biter. Would you have eaten it if you had bitten it right off?"

Until he heard another nasty voice say, "Whack a bit of sauce and chutney on it and it would have been right tasty, I reckon. What do you think, cock-biter? Did it taste good?"

Until he heard the first voice say, "You could do with putting a bit of boner on those bones, cock-biter."

Until he heard another voice, a beautiful voice, a strong voice, a voice that didn't take shit from anybody say, "Don't worry, fellas. If cocks were still my main diet I wouldn't be after you. I'm a growing girl and need lots of energy."

Until he saw a girl - a woman - in a lovely fringed jacket walk past him a few moments later without ever once noticing him.

Until he walked down the corridor and saw two frowning cretins staring at each other and wondering if they had just been insulted or not.

Until the day he fell in love with Maeve Wiley.

Maeve's moan drew Otis out of his reverie and he glanced at her, concerned. When he saw her eyes were still closed he allowed himself to relax, confident that she hadn't seen anything to make her suspect this wasn't as easy for himself as he had been making it out to be.

She wouldn't thank him for putting himself through this to please her but he knew – he believed – he hoped that next time – a day from now, a week from now - when they were once again alone together and doing the things that boyfriends and girlfriends did, he would find each step easier and he would be able to be with her, be inside her if she still wanted him to be.

It had worked with their kissing.

It had worked with him masturbating.

It was working with him touching and kissing her breasts.

It wasn't quite yet working with him… fingering her pussy… but he was still managing to (mostly) hold the memories and the feelings at bay and he hadn't freaked out.

There was just one problem.

He had forgotten the truth about the best laid plans of mice and men.

He had forgotten sometimes people other than himself could get lost in a moment too.

When Otis felt Maeve's hand touch his erection through his jeans his mind went blank as if he could not quite understand what was happening but when she squeezed firmly and dragged her hand along the length of him beneath the denim material concealing his penis, the barrier keeping those memories and those feelings (mostly) at bay began rapidly crumbling.

He found it hard to catch his breath and why were flamingos standing on the bed and he wondered if he had brought his asthma spray then darkness crept in from the edges of his vision and he realised this was more than an asthma attack and why was Lily riding a bucking whale?

His skin felt cold and clammy and he felt himself tilting as if on a ship during a large storm like in that movie and then the ground disappeared beneath him and he was falling and he vaguely noticed his arms waving around and a small measure of his consciousness hoped he hadn't hurt Maeve when he withdrew his fingers from her and then the ground came back to him and the darkness completed its encroachment on his vision.

When the darkness began to retreat he vaguely realised there was an ache in his hip and someone's arms were around him and a beautiful voice, a crying voice was murmuring in his ear, "I'm sorry, Otis. I'm so sorry, Otis. I'm sorry."

Author's Notes: Is this working?