There was a moment's silence as they gazed in each other's eyes. 

"Here," he said, taking hold of her waistband, "let me see your cunt."

She lifted her hips. He slid her sweatpants down, and gasped in
delight. Gazing enraptured, he realized that it wasn't the sight
itself that was making his head buzz with joy. Slender hips, pale
skin, faintly veined, Glossy black fuzz in a fat rounded
icosoles. Beautiful, sexy, but not, he had to admit, in any
particularly extrordinary way.

"Guys," he found himself musing aloud, as he ran his hand between
her navel and pubes, "are imprinted with the *hiddenness* of the
female body. From early adolesence, we're driven mad by the awareness
that women have these magical parts, hidden by just a little
fabric. We're surrounded by them every day, just out of sight, but,
say, for me it was almost a decade before I managed to actually get my
hands on one, after starting to want to.

"What's thrilling about a moment like this is not the inherent charms
of your pussy, lovely though it is..." Here he bent down to nuzzle at
it with his lips for a moment. She watched him with her head on the
pillow, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed by his
soliliquy. "...but the fact that I can just ask to see it whenever I
want, and you'll show it to me. Um, within reason."