little protruding buds, with his mouth and tongue.
She knew he was
enjoying himself, and had to push him away and order him to go to work
on other places.
"No," he protested.
"I like this.
You taste wonderful."
"Leonardo," she said.
"You're making me sore.
Now I want you to lick the back of my legs."
"And that arouses you?"
He was sceptical.
"Just behind the knees," she said.
"It's deliciously sexy."
She lay there with her eyes half closed, ordering him to move higher or
lower, press harder or not so hard, and, as he roved over her body,
stimulating many erogenous zones, one after the other, she realised
that it was a very long time since a man had pleased her so much.
Although Nicolas always man aged to satisfy her, he was ungenerous.
It
aroused him to treat her like a whore, and it had aroused her, but he
had never bothered to find out what other kind of treatment she
enjoyed.
Would she have liked to feel his mouth moving gently over her skin,
searching for the special places that excited her?
Yes, she thought,
she would.
But she knew it was never going to happen.
For Nicolas,
sex was a personal ego-trip.
Could he actually perform properly if he
was not totally in control?
Poor Nicolas, she thought, what a lot of
pleasure he's missing.
Leonardo was clutching himself uncomfortably.
"What's the matter with you?"
she chided him.
"If you don't let me have you soon," he said, "I shall come anyway."
"There's one more place to go," she said.
"I've kept the best until last."
He grunted with delight and made a grab between her legs.
She slapped
him sharply on the head.
"Haven't you learned anything?
I meant the best for me.
I'm going to
teach you how to go down on a woman properly."
She opened her legs for him, and saw the look of delight and lust on
his face.
The last time they had made love, she remembered, he hardly
had time to look at any part of her.
Her clitoris was pink and
swollen, and she guessed that this was the first time he had seen a
woman's sex.
He muttered something that she did not catch, and she
made him repeat it.
"It's not like the pictures in magazines," he said.
"So you've looked at dirty magazines?"
She pretended to be shocked.
"A few," he muttered.
"But they didn't - I mean, I couldn't -' He floundered a moment and
then dabbed a ringer quickly between her legs.
"The pictures were nothing like this."
"Of course not," she murmured.
"This is for real.
And it's just for you."
She saw him run his tongue
over his lips.
"That's good," she said.
"You've got the right idea.
Only now you're going to use your tongue
on me."
She guided his head down, and felt his warm mouth close over her.
At
first, as she expected, he was in too much of a rush, nuzzling at her
like a hungry animal, totally unaware of which parts were the most
sensitive.
"Slow down," she instructed.
"The bit I want you to lick is the little mound, right there in the
middle, and if you learn to do that properly, you'll please every woman
you ever make love to."
She pushed his head gently back, so that he
had to look at her.
"Right here," she said, demonstrating.
"It gives us the same kind of pleasure that you get from your cock.
It
even swells up when we get excited.
The trick is finding out how each
woman likes to be pleased."
She put her hands on his head again, and
guided him down.
"You have to listen, really listen, and do what your partner wants, not
what you think she wants.
But if you start lightly, with just the tip of your tongue, you can't
go wrong."
He bent his head over her.
"Like this?"
She felt his tongue moving, and remembered how seductive she had found
the shape of his mouth the first time she had seen him.
Now that mouth
was servicing her intimately, and the thought was almost as arousing as
the smooth, stroking movements of his tongue.
"That's lovely," she murmured, and meant it.
"But harder.
Just a little more pressure.
Yes, just there, right
there."
She gave a groan of delight as he found her most sensitive
spot.
"Oh, yes, that's it!"
She felt him squirming and knew he was having trouble controlling
himself.
Perversely, she forced him to pleasure her a little longer,
then she took pity on him.
"All right, Leonardo.
I think it's time to make you comfortable."
He had no trouble entering her and she was so aroused that she came
almost at once.
His pleasure came a little while after hers, and she
was glad she was able to watch the expression on his face as his orgasm
rocked him.
Afterwards, as they lay together, he asked her, "Will it
always be like this?"
"No," she said.
"Sometimes you'll want to do it fast and sometimes you'll take your
time."
"Do women enjoy it fast?"
he asked.
"Sometimes we do," Jacey said.
"That's why relationships are so interesting."
She remembered
Nicolas.
"But the cardinal rule is not to do only the things you like all the
time.
Having sex is a shared experience, a voyage of discovery."
"Why don't you say "making love?"
he asked.
"Because I don't like lying," she said.
"We've been having sex, Leonardo.
And very nice it was, too.
Let's
leave it at that."
"Have you never been in love?"
he persisted.
"Once I thought I was," she said curtly.
"I was wrong.
Now let me ask you a question.
Who is Curtis
Telford?"
He looked surprised.
"I don't know.
I was going to ask you.
All I know is that my brother
Carlos is angry about the American coming here.
Carlos has helped Nicolas make money in the past, and now he thinks
Nicolas is planning to make money without him.
I also think this time
Nicolas is going to exclude him, and take the profits all for
himself."
Yes, Jacey thought after Leonardo had gone, that sounds very likely.
But what exactly is Nicolas planning?
It has to involve the rain
forest.
Maybe it's a logging deal?
Whatever it was she had to find
out more.
One of the advantages of Curtis Telford's stay in Techtatuan was that
the number of times Nicolas Schlemann called Jacey on her mobile
decreased.
She knew from Carmen, and from ingrid, that the
American had an insatiable appetite for sexual experimentation, and
guessed that Nicolas was too busy indulging his guest to indulge
himself.
Curtis had already tried to talk Ingrid into performing for him with
another woman.
"I have no objection to three in a bed," Ingrid admitted.
"But I just don't fancy Mr.
Golden Boy.
And he is so crass, he
actually offered me money.
I told him, I like sex, but I am not for
sale."
Because of her increased amount of freedom, Jacey spent more time at El
mviemo.
It was while she was working in the out-patients' clinic with
Paloma that she noticed the number of Indian men and women who wore
amulets, or had patterns drawn in red dye on their foreheads.
"It's for healing," Paloma said, when Jacey commented on it.
"But they still come to the clinic," Jacey observed.
Paloma laughed.
"The Indians are very sensible.
They don't see why they shouldn't
explore all the possibilities."
"I daresay some of the traditional methods do work," Jacey said.
"Not the amulets and magical things, but medicines derived from rain
forest plants?"
"Oh, they work."
Paloma nodded.
"My mother was healed by a mochto.
She had very heavy bleeding after
her first baby and there were no hospitals like this one, or doctors
like you.
So she went to the mochto and was given a spell, and
something to drink.
It cured her."
"A spell?"
Jacey repeated, amused.
"Paloma, I thought your family were Catholics?"
"Oh, we are," Paloma agreed.
"And your mother went to a witch doctor?"
"A mochto is not a witch doctor," Paloma said.
"She's a healer."
"What does she do?"
Jacey was still unable to take this seriously.
"Sacrifice a chicken?"
"Certainly not Paloma said.
"The mochto has respect for life.
Nothing is ever killed during the