I step forward an inch so that our bodies just barely touch, our heat creating an undeniable friction that seizes our skin with electricity. Then I take her trembling hands and place them on my chest, stifling a groan.
“Your turn, Ally,” I whisper only for her ears. “Touch me.”
She sucks in a breath and bites her quivering lip. “How?”
My voice is low and raspy, wavering with my restraint. “Just like I touched you. Exactly how you want to be touched.”
I watch as she takes a few breaths to steel her nerves. Then slowly, torturously, as if she wants to strip away every bit of self-control I have, she slides her delicate hands up to my shoulders, kneading the hard muscle sheathed in a white linen shirt. It’s amazing how she can make such an innocent touch feel so dirty and sexual. It feels like she’s undressing me, exposing me. Corrupting me.
“More,” I rasp. My breath comes out in ragged pants, and my skin is on fire. Allison moves her hands down my arms until her fingers stroke the inside of my palms. Then she’s touching my waist, my stomach. Her nails rake over the hard ridges of my abs, taking the time to feel each and every mound of muscle. I hold my breath, afraid that she’ll continue her journey down south. I’m not ashamed of my body’s reaction to hers, but I know nothing good will come of her feeling my hardness in her hands. And chances are, she wouldn’t even know what to do with it.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you feel.”
Allison swallows and her mouth parts. I watch as her pink tongue darts out just enough to wet her lips. “You’re so…hard,” she whispers. If I hadn’t been so immersed in the sight of her tongue sliding over her lips, I wouldn’t have even understood her.
“What else?”
“Um…uh. You’re warm. Hot. You feel so strong under my hands. Like, I can feel every muscle.”
“Keep going, Ally.” It’s meant to be a command, but it voice sounds like it’s pleading.
“And, um. So big. You make me feel small. And breakable. But I feel safe too, like your whole body could cover mine without crushing me.” Her cheeks heat and bloom deep red. “It’s stupid. I feel like an idiot saying this to you.”
She goes to take off her blindfold and I stop her, placing her hands on my chest. “No, don’t stop. It’s not stupid.”
A smile curves her pink, glossed lips, and she steps into me. Close enough for her nipples to brush the top of my stomach. Close enough for her to feel my erection nudging her.
She gasps, yet doesn’t step away. I grin sardonically.
“Go on, Ally,” I say, stepping even closer, letting her feel just what she’s doing to me. Showing her that, while I may make her feel small and meek, she has the power.
She inhales before sucking her bottom lip into her mouth seductively. Just like I taught her. “You smell so good. Like male and raw sex. Like sunshine and rainwater.”
“Yeah? And what does that make you feel?”
“Hot.” Her head lowers, but not before I see the red in her cheeks deepen even more. “And horny.”
A flash of movement or light, or maybe even a voice, catches my attention, and I look up to find ten sets of uncovered eyes trained on us, each one displaying varying degrees of shock and outrage. My mouth goes dry, and I feel the blood drain from my face. I step away, yet not so fast that they could misconstrue my retreat as a sign of guilt.
“You all did a wonderful job. And I’d like to thank Mrs. Carr for being a good sport and trying some of our more advanced techniques.” Without moving her body too much and revealing my massive hard-on to the rest of the class, I turn Ally around and remove her blindfold, keeping my hands chastely on her shoulders. She stays put, pressing her back and ass against my throbbing dick. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning.
“Let’s break for an early lunch, shall we?”
We wait until the rest of the class files out, before Ally turns back to face me. Her cheeks are still pink, and even her hair looks disheveled, like she’s been freshly fucked.
“Your mom was right,” she says, looking up at me with glassy eyes.
“My mom?” I frown.
“You should’ve been a movie star. You’re a damn good actor.”
I raise a brow. “Maybe I should be telling you that.”
Allison shakes her head and laughs nervously, looking down at her feet. “No. I can’t act. Not even a little bit.”
I pull her chin up, refusing to let her hide from me. “Then what was that?”
She shakes her head, her chin still secured between my fingers. Tears fill those wide eyes, and her lip trembles. “I don’t know. I don’t know what that was. I don’t know anything.”
Suddenly, the need to possess her body is a distant memory. Seeing her so shattered because of me, because of this…thing, this undefined attraction that has her just as fucked up in the head as I am, makes me realize just how careless I’ve been with her delicate emotions. She’s been hurt, and somehow, in some way that I don’t seem to understand, I’m hurting her too. I can see it, right in those sad eyes filled with tiny, drowning stars.
“Come here,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. She buries her face into my chest for just a moment before she realizes what she’s doing.
“No. No, I can’t do this. Excuse me…I’m sorry.” And with confused tears sliding down her porcelain face and a trail of fire at her back, the angel runs away from this lonely hell designed especially for me.
DAYS PASS. MAYBE a week.
It’s all the same. Work. Swim. Sometimes I drink. Seldom I eat. Either way, nothing changes. Allison doesn’t come at night. She hardly even looks at me. I feel like I’ve stained her, violated her in some way. Tainted her with wicked temptation. And for once, I’m relieved.
I couldn’t stay away from her, and she wasn’t put off enough by me to keep her distance. So maybe this was necessary. Maybe her physically seeing what I was capable of, was just what she needed to permanently close whatever space she had left open for me in her life. Now she can remove the placeholder. I’m no longer on the guest list.
That’s a good thing. That’s what’s best.
Still... it’s shitty.
Feeling like I had some sort of connection with someone, even platonically, was something I hadn’t experienced in years. Meeting her was like seeing a sunrise after being trapped in a dull, grey room with no windows. It was that first bite of ice cream on a treacherously hot summer’s day. Without her, all is drab. Muted. Tasteless.
Lonely.
But I’m not complaining. The brooding, lonely role is one I play well. I’m an island of one, and I like to keep it that way.
That’s why I couldn’t figure out why the usual excitement surrounding this particular day just wasn’t there. This one had always been one of my favorites. The housewives would be particularly uncomfortable. It tested each one of their boundaries and made them reevaluate their own desires. Seeing them like that – cheeks stained with embarrassment, mouths slack, squirming in their seats with arousal—was like living art to me. That raw emotion was what I lived for.
Yet, now, I feel indifferent about it, maybe even a little sad. Like doing this will be the proverbial nail in the coffin for Ally and me.
Ally and me.
Hmph. I can’t even say that with a straight face.
I watch intently as they all file in, glancing hesitantly at the mechanism that sits in the middle of the room. A few whisper in curious speculation, others in excited anticipation. They can tell shit is about to go down, and who am I to disappoint?
“Good morning, ladies. Today we have a special guest joining us.”
I nod towards the back of the room, and every head turns as a slender brunette in a red silk robe makes her way to the front. I hold my hand out to help her onto the medical-style examination chair. “This is Erin. Erin has been with us for the past few years and is currently a medical student. She will also be helping us out today.”
My voice drops to a husky bari
tone as if I’m letting them in on a naughty secret. “In order to give pleasure, you need to understand how to receive it. It’s time we became intimate with the female body. With your bodies. Erin?”
On cue, Erin let’s her robe fall open, exposing her naked frame. Pert, round breasts sit up without a hint of sag, above a flat, flawless belly. Without hesitation, she spreads her legs and places her heels into the extended stirrups, revealing a bare, pink pussy. Hushed shrieks of surprise echo throughout the room, but she hears none of it. She’s used to it by now. And with me pretty much paying her way through med school whilst only working four days a year, she could care less about a few judgmental hens who haven’t clucked since before Miley Cyrus actually owned clothes and brain cells.
“Look familiar, ladies?” I ask, grinning evilly. “No? Probably because you’ve neglected your body, thus denying yourself the opportunity to learn about it. How can you expect your mate to fuck you right if you’re not doing it yourself? No one knows what stimulates you better than you do.
“So, since I don’t have the plumbing required to show you the ins and outs, so to speak, Erin will help me. First, let’s start with the nipples.”
Again, on cue, Erin palms the underside of her breasts, pinching her erect nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. Shocked murmurs resound around the room, which she answers by pinching her swollen buds and grinning.
“Your nipples are the most obvious pleasure points not residing in the female genitalia. However, they are commonly neglected. Who likes their nipples stimulated?”
No one answers at first, but a hand eventually goes up. Lacey Rose, rocker wife and former sex kitten. Several more follow. I make it a point not to look in Ally’s direction. Knowing that about her, knowing I could bring her to orgasm just by teasing her strawberry nipples, would drive me insane. Ignorance is bliss. At least in my case, ignorance is necessary.
I focus my attention back on Erin who smiles up at me. “Ok, good. Now, who likes to play with their nipples when they’re alone?”
Fewer hands this time, but a couple women actually fess up.
“Excellent. Our friend, Erin, is going to demonstrate all the ways you can get off just by nipple stimulation alone. Erin?”
The young, busty brunette begins to pinch and knead her tan-tipped nipples, rolling them with her skilled fingers. She throws her head back in a moan and bites her bottom lip with practiced seduction. Then she brings her fingers up to her mouth, licking the digits before returning them to her swollen breasts. Even with her feet in the stirrups, she tries to close her legs in hopes of creating friction to her neglected pussy. I watch intently, fascinated by the way her sensitive pink flesh quivers with need. Erin looks back at me, her eyes begging me to touch her and put her out of her misery.
Aside from the creak of their chairs from squirming, everyone is silent as they watch Erin stroke and caress herself. A few even unconsciously clutch their own chests, starving to be touched.
Just as Erin is on the brink of bringing herself to orgasm, I gently tap the inside of her thigh, letting my hand linger there. She places her hands to rest at her sides, perfectly poised, save for her ragged breaths. “Very good. Now what can you tell me about what Erin just showed us?”
After a beat, a hand goes up. Lorinda Cosgrove, the dark haired wallflower that is slowly blooming into an exotic Tiger lily. “Um, when she pinched them…she moaned loudly?”
“Good, Mrs. Cosgrove. What else?”
Lacey speaks up. “And when she licked her fingers and wet her nipples, her back arched.”
“Rolling them between her fingers made her knees shake,” says another housewife.
“All great observations. What else?”
“When she watched you watching her, it made her hotter. She wanted you to touch her. You could see it in her eyes.”
I freeze, forcing myself not to look in the direction of the voice. I was so close. So close to getting through this without actually thinking about it. So close to not feeling like I was doing something wrong. But now that unwarranted guilt is creeping back, filling my head with illusions of morality. Making me think twice about my next move.
“Uh, that was…” I stammer. Shit. Focus, Drake. Business before bullshit. “So…right. Moving on. Next, Erin will demonstrate some of the more known erogenous zones, starting with the clitoris. Watch closely; watch the movements of her fingers. Note which areas are the most sensitive.”
Without my prompt, Erin lets her hands travel down past her belly and between her thighs. First, she parts her sex, giving the women an in-depth view of her most intimate area. Then, with her other hand, she strokes her clit, moaning out her pleasure before applying more pressure.
My hand still on the inside of her thigh, I part Erin’s legs wider, letting the women see every tight, wet part of her. “I get that most of you have had children and are not as youthful as Erin,” I say over her fevered mewling. “But this is the type of pussy you all should aspire to have. Your job is not just to birth children and run a household. You are required to stay freshly waxed and groomed at all times. Your pussy should be pink and soft. If it’s not, there are procedures to get it that way again. This is what your husbands want to see when you open your legs. No one wants to fuck Chewbacca. Groom your pussy as if you’re Sharon Stone’s crotch-shot stunt double.”
Erin resumes massaging her clit, tracing circles around that swollen, throbbing button. Then she switches it up with rapid side-to-side movements before lightly slapping the emblazoned flesh, crying out with her climax. She looks up at me again with those needy eyes, shaking with the aftershocks of orgasm. I know what she was thinking about when she touched herself. I know she wishes it were my hands stimulating her silken skin.
I divert my eyes, acting as if I am engrossed in her quivering sex. “Clitoral stimulation can provide one of the most powerful orgasms you’ll ever feel. And for many women, that’s the only climax they’ve ever received. But there’s one type of orgasm that, unfortunately, very few women have had the pleasure of experiencing. Of course, I am referring to the G-Spot orgasm. Now, ladies…it’s not the Lost City of Atlantis. There’s no special code you need to crack this particular nut. Just patience and practice. And if you can find it, you’ll be able to lead your lover to it.”
I give Erin’s leg a tap and she complies with my unspoken command, moving a hand just a few centimeters lower and dipping just the tip of her finger inside her pussy. She rubs the dripping wet digit on her swollen clit before easing it inside her again, this time sinking in to the knuckle. She gasps at the intrusion, letting her muscles contract around her slender finger before easing it out a bit. Then she plunges back in, creating a slow, sinful rhythm.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Slow and deep,” I croon, massaging her thigh. “Add another finger. Fill yourself.”
Erin does as I command, picking up speed with the addition of the second finger. I can hear the sucking sounds of her tightness, begging for more.
“Now curl your fingers up, baby. You feel that? You feel how it’s throbbing for you? Begging for you? Milk it, baby. Milk that orgasm and come all over your fingers for me.”
With a strangled cry, Erin lets go, and a rush of sweet nectar flows from her contracting pussy. Still massaging her thigh, I coax her down from her erotic high, whispering reassuring words of praise. When I look back at the crowd, every eye is glazed and unblinking, and every face is flushed scarlet.
“I understand that it may be difficult to vocalize what we’ve just seen, so we’ll be cutting today’s class short. You’re all dismissed to your rooms, where a special gift from our friends at Lelo.com awaits you. I want you to explore your own pleasure points. Find out what techniques stimulate you the most. And while you do this, utilize the full-length mirrors stationed in your suites. Watch yourself get off. See what he sees when he’s pleasuring you.”
Without little persuasion, the ladies hastily file out of the room, all silently pondering thei
r homework assignment. Once we’re alone, I turn to Erin, my expression burning with intensity.
“My house. Now.”
“WHAT THE FUCK was that?”
I pace the floor, trying to reel in my temper. Erin sits cross-legged on my sofa, only sheathed in her robe.
“What was what?”
“Don’t play stupid, Erin. You know what you were doing.”
She smiles, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit!” I shout, throwing up my hands. “You were giving me the fuck-me eyes the entire time. And don’t think I didn’t catch you moan my name.”
She looks down at the floor to hide her forlorn expression. “Nice to see you were paying attention. You make me feel like I’m invisible to you.”
I rub the back of my neck in frustration, before going to kneel in front of her. Erin may be confident and fearless, but she is still a woman. She still needs to feel desired. “Of course you’re not invisible to me, Erin. I see you. Shit, I was touching you…talking to you in ways I shouldn’t have been. For a minute, I forgot where I was.”
She lifts her eyes and hope floods her face. “You wanted me, didn’t you? You wanted to be inside me, right?”
I swallow, pushing down the instinctive Yes in my throat. “I’d be fucking crazy not to want you, Erin. You’re a beautiful woman. But you know I can’t cross that line with you. Not now, not ever.”
“But…but before we did-”
I shake my head, knowing exactly where this is going. “That was then, Erin. And that will never happen again. I told you that. Now if you can’t handle this arrangement, I can find someone who can.”
Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head. “No. No, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just…”
I kiss her on the forehead and climb to my feet. “Good girl.”
For once, I’m actually not trying to be the villain. I like Erin, but not in the way that she wants. A few years back, I approached her in a Chicago bar, on her last dime, looking for any rich bastard to buy her a drink and hopefully be her sponsor. Despite being incredibly gorgeous, she reeked of desperation. I had to help her. It was my civic duty to do so before she got caught up with the wrong crowd.