She’s already fully naked.

You can tell by the sounds she’s making. They’re the kind of sounds a person makes when everything’s fine. She makes them when she’s in places where she doesn’t have to stay. She does this even when she’s thinking about what to pick up on the way home.

But underneath, she’s scared.

Her fists are clenched, and her feet are pressed into the bedsheet like someone prepared to run. Part of her has been at the window since she was too young for it to make sense. She’s been watching the drive for ages, and no one ever asked her why she sleeps so fitfully.

It’s not physical pain she’s bracing herself for. She’s been through that before and knows how long it takes to recover. She’s worried about what will happen if she stops faking it in front of someone and they just…

disappear.

Every woman who’s been in her situation figures out the same thing. It’s better to be desired than to be really seen.

Desire can be faked. You can practice the performance.

So there’s a limit on how much of her you’ll get from the sex. It’ll be okay on the surface. From the outside, it will look like she’s letting go.

But you’ll be acting the whole time.

There’s nothing you do with your hips that will change this. Experience and being gentle and all the other things men do to get patted on the back for being a good lover don’t work either.

Promises aren’t a solution.

She’s had her fair share from smooth-talking guys who didn’t mean a word.

What finally breaks through the guard who’s been watching from the window is when she tells you the plain, ugly truth about herself, and instead of moving in closer, you just stay put.

You do this enough and the sentry gets bored.

It’s not as glamorous as people think. It takes years, and no one’s ever found a way around it.

Then her breathing changes.

The sound that comes from her isn’t something practiced. It starts in her chest, and it’s not pretty. It’s a mix of a sigh and a sob, like when someone finally drops something they’ve been claiming is not a burden.

For twenty miles, she’s been saying it was no big deal.

Her body has been lying for most of her life, and now the deception is over.

None of what she’s done with her body has ever been true until that sound.

Her hands relax on the sheet. Her feet pull in.

When she stops holding herself up, you should understand that she’s going all the way down. She’s been the one everyone leaned on. No one ever suggested she should stop and stay in one piece.

Her eyes roll back, and your touch doesn’t have much to do with it.

You were listening for what she wasn’t saying, and you got it right.

Knowing that is more intimate than anything you can do with your body.

And it’s rarer.

She’s spent her whole life with guys who never even came close.

Her walls collapse. Since there’s no longer anything to watch out for, they turn into a desire for more.

The part of her that’s been on high alert for so long finally gets to rest.

It wants to be touched, something it couldn’t admit while there was a threat around.

So take it easy with her.

Put your mouth on the softest of spots, where she’s always sensitive. Take her foot in both hands and run your tongue along the arch.

Behind the knee.

Under the hair on the back of her neck.

Show her that you’re starved for her.

Want her in such a way that every part of her is included in the hunger, none of it ignored while you find what you came for.

If you can’t handle the part of her that aches when no one is touching her, then you don’t belong between her legs.

Any man who freaks out on her when she’s sad hasn’t got any business with her.

If all you’ve got is your tongue, then you haven’t even found her.

Say woman if you want to.

But understand what you’re saying.

The word is about respect, and most guys use it without ever getting it right.