CHAPTER 7

As I work, I slide one, then two, long, thick fingers into her, pressing upwards and working her G-spot hard. Having those sensitive nerves stimulated in two places at once is more than enough to put her over the edge. Destinee comes hard for me. I don't let up on her, though, going flat out as she comes, then comes, then comes some more.

I know that most women need a respite, but not her. I've never found the point at which she's completely satisfied, but tonight I stop just before I cripple her.

I slide up and (after wiping my lips with the back of my hand) kiss her mouth. I don't believe she actually likes the taste of herself, but she likes to kiss after coming, so she puts up with it. When she's gotten herself back on an even keel, I reach over onto the nightstand for the condom that I unwrapped earlier and quickly roll it on. Destinee is barely conscious at this point, but she still takes me in her hand and guides me in.

We always start in missionary position, because that's where she is when I get done eating her. I begin to push into her, just a little at a time.

"Oh Jesus, Peter, you're so big," she moans. That may well be true, but I have little trouble sliding in. As tall as she is, she's unusually deep and can take most of my length too. Soon I find a rhythm, moving easily in and out while being careful to keep my weight off her.

This is when it always strikes me. Unbelievably, I'm actually making love with a beautiful woman. The sheer preposterousness of that nearly blows me away every time.

Twenty-two years ago, as a six-year-old, I found out that there was something profoundly and irrevocably different about me. You see, I don't experience the world in the same way that other people do. I probably don't even experience it in the same way that people with severe Autism or Asperger's do either. In me, the native ability to intuitively understand facial, verbal and relational cues is almost completely absent. Whatever part of the brain it is that handles that kind of stuff, with me it just didn't develop.

The vast majority of people unfortunate enough to be stuck with cognitive disabilities as severe as mine end up living their entire lives dependent on family or in an institution. But where nature cursed me in one way, it blessed me in another. I have an extremely high native intelligence. Like off-the-charts high, and I've been able to use it to compensate for my disabilities.

It took me time, an unfaltering desire to fit in, innumerable embarrassing experiences, and the heavy use of logic to figure out things that most people grasp intuitively. I spent years studying facial expressions until I could recognize them reliably and memorize what each of them meant. My journey to being able to decipher meanings from the nuances of speech was exceedingly long too, but I persisted until I could comfortably participate in conversations.

I was a decade late to the party, but my efforts to become, or at least to successfully mimic, a social being eventually led me to attempt relationships with women. These turned out to be another order of magnitude more difficult and, until now, none of my tries at a successful romantic relationship have gone well. There were many attempts, but only seventy-three women (I track these things) have agreed to a first date. Twenty-seven were willing to risk a second, and three (including Destinee) eventually agreed to become intimate with me. I was a virgin until a year ago, but all those women were crucial in my quest to understand the female mind. Each one served a purpose in advancing me toward my goal. That goal was to be able to get, and keep, a girlfriend like Destinee.

This time together in my loft is about as perfect as I can make it. I know it's going to look good when I review the video later to do the self-critique of my performance. We move together quite well. Both our bodies are as perfect as nature, diet, exercise, and (in Destinee's case) surgery can create. The backdrop is romantic and sophisticated. People would pay money for this video, but like all the ones I've shot, I'll erase it just as soon as I'm done learning from it. I would never let anyone else see this and I don't want to take unnecessary chances that a girl might find out she's being recorded.

Destinee was sated by the time I got done pleasuring her orally, and she's never been able to climax during penetrative sex anyway, so I don't need to show off my stamina. Still, intercourse has always been my gold standard when it comes to sex, and I want it to last. We go for a while in missionary position, then we shift to our sides. I spoon her to my chest and enter her from behind. In this position I don't need to worry as much about going too deep, and I get the added pleasure of being able to play with her breasts. I even reach down and diddle her clit as I thrust in and out. It won't get her off, but she seems to like it.

I really enjoy doggy style with Destinee because of the magical sight in the mirror as her breasts swing fore and aft. Cowgirl position is nice too because, again, I have wonderful access to those breasts. I take advantage of that and suck her nipples.

We end back in the missionary position. The insulating effect of the condom is slowing me down, but I can still feel my climax building. Soon, I'm almost there.

"I'm about to come," I murmur.

Her subtle body language says, "It's about time," but her voice whispers "Oh, yeah, baby. Fill me deep inside." Of course the only thing I'll be filling is a reservoir tip, but I try anyway, shooting gout after gout as she cries out in simulated pleasure. I can forgive her for faking it. After all, in a way I'm faking this whole relationship. Still, anyone watching would be impressed.

I remain still inside her for a moment, looking down at a woman whom I couldn't even have imagined talking to a few years before. Her eyes are closed, and her amazing chest is heaving in mock exhaustion for the sexual marathon I've supposedly put her through. Still, I'm amazed at how far I've come in my quest.

The moment is over quickly, though, and it's time to take care of business. I give her one last kiss, then get up and head for the bathroom. I quickly dispose of the rubber, then clean myself off and slip into the boxers and T-shirt that are my sleeping clothes on nights when Destinee is over.