I make my lover come. That’s not bragging. It’s a fact. I am proud to make her come but it is about as noteworthy as saying I kissed her. She expects to come so she does. Bragging would be saying I make her come with such intense serial orgasms that her whole body arches off of the bed, arms flailing, screaming uncontrollably as I suck that clit even harder. Then massaging two fingers deep into her ridged rubber spot I lash her lick-weary clit with a rough tongue. She falls silent, body quaking. The silence is punctuated by a gasp for breath and the ragged words, “Stop, stop, I..see..stars.” I stop and let her body, broken by pleasure, lay still. While she rests I draw my fingernails softly the length of her, making her burning skin shiver.