**”Eddie’s Lesson”**

I was nervous as hell when Eddie Munson sprawled out on my couch like he owned it, his dark eyes locked on mine. I’d been crushing on him forever—his wild hair, that cocky smirk, the way his fingers drummed against his thigh like he was always playing some invisible guitar. And now here he was, in my shitty little apartment, because I’d stupidly admitted I’d never touched myself before. Not *really*.

Eddie laughed at first, thinking I was joking. But when he realized I was serious, that smirk of his turned dangerous. “No fucking way,” he drawled, kicking his boots off and patting the couch beside him. “C’mere. We’re fixing that.”

My face burned as I sat down, my thighs squeezing together instinctively. Eddie didn’t miss it—of course he didn’t. His grin widened. “Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning back against the armrest. “Just gonna teach you how to make yourself feel good. That’s all.”

His voice was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Eddie reached out, calloused fingers brushing my knee. “First rule—don’t rush. You gotta let the tension build.” His hand slid higher, inch by torturous inch, until his thumb pressed against the inside of my thigh. I gasped.

“See? Already getting worked up,” he chuckled. “Now, touch yourself. Just like this.” He guided my hand between my legs, over my jeans, and my whole body jerked at the contact. “Fuck, you’re already wet, huh?” Eddie’s voice was thick, his own jeans getting tighter as he watched me.

I whimpered, nodding, and his fingers tightened around mine. “Rub your pussy through your pants first,” he ordered, pressing my palm harder against myself. “Get used to the pressure.” I did, grinding my hips down as heat pooled between my legs. Eddie’s breath hitched. “Good girl. Now unzip those fucking jeans.”

With shaky hands, I undid my zipper, pushing my jeans down just enough to expose my panties—already soaked. Eddie groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” He reached out, hooking a finger under the lace and peeling it aside, exposing my bare pussy to the cool air. I twitched, embarrassed but *so* turned on.

“Look at you,” Eddie breathed, his fingers skimming my lips, spreading me just enough to see how slick I was. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His thumb stroked my clit in slow circles, and I moaned, my hips jerking. “That’s it,” he growled. “Now you try.”

I mimicked him, rubbing my clit in tentative circles, gasping at the jolt of pleasure. “Faster,” Eddie murmured, his other hand gripping my thigh. “Harder. Don’t be shy—it’s your pussy, baby. Own it.”

I obeyed, moaning as the sensations intensified, my fingers moving faster, grinding against my clit until my back arched. Eddie’s eyes were locked on me, his cock straining against his jeans, his fingers twitching like he wanted to touch me himself. “You close?” he rasped.

I nodded frantically, my breaths coming in short gasps. “God, Eddie—I—”

“Come for me,” he growled. “Let me see it.”

That was all it took. My orgasm hit me hard, my pussy clenching around nothing as I cried out, my fingers still working my clit through the waves of pleasure. Eddie groaned, his hand flying to his own cock, palming himself through his jeans. “Fuck, that was hot,” he panted.

I slumped back, dazed, watching as Eddie unzipped his jeans, pulling his thick cock out with a grunt. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my glistening pussy. “Next time,” he promised, his voice rough, “I’m gonna show you how this feels inside you.”

I shivered, already craving it.