Rex

After being detained for a good ten minutes by Sally, I feel a twinge of guilt as I step into the elevator, punching the button for the lobby. She now feels like a third wheel in spite of the fact that she’s the only one who has ever done a trade show. This all would’ve gone smoothly if Jessica weren’t so goddamn determined to cause problems. The anger grows within me as the chirp of the elevator calls out each passing floor. I treated her as well as anyone, so why is she so incredibly bitter? As the doors open to the lobby, I lower my gaze and head directly for the parking garage, not wanting any more human interactions. My mood lightens upon seeing Felicia standing next to the car. Her silhouette alone is enough to part the clouds on a gloomy day.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing a tremble in her shoulders as I approach her from behind.

“Nothing,” she replies in a choked up whisper.

I unlock the doors and set my briefcase in the back seat before going around to the passenger side. “Nothing?” I ask with an unconvinced glare.

“I had an exchange with Becca, and then Mom sent me a video,” she admits, trying to wipe away tears with the back of her hand.

“Here.” I reach in my suit pocket and hand her a handkerchief. “Since you’re crying, I’ll assume it’s one of Jessica’s videos.”

“Yeah,” she says, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. “It was just bad timing since I was already dealing with Becca,” she adds, trying to minimize it.

“Come on,” I suggest, opening the passenger door. “Let’s talk about it in the car.”

She looks around sheepishly, apparently just noticing the multitude of people who were walking through the parking garage on their way to lunch. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she says with hurt in her eyes. She slouches into the car and straps on the seat belt. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she adds, referring to my handkerchief.

“I couldn’t care less, honey.” I smile at her thoughtfulness and gently close the door. Getting into the driver’s seat, I’m curious to know which video she watched. There are so many disturbing ones to choose from.

“The one with the gorgeous girls,” she says in a soft tone, obviously still overcome with emotion. “Mom thought they were all models or actresses.”

“Ah, yes, I worked with my share of both,” I freely admit. “They have just as many intimacy issues as ordinary women, if not more. In a lot of cases, I think I was the first person they had been with who didn’t want anything from them. And they didn’t have anything to gain from me. Most people don’t understand that orgasm is mostly mental. It’s just as much about trust as anything physical.”

“What really got to me is how they all say they wish they didn’t know what they were missing,” she says, shaking her head. “You’ve probably ruined me for other men too.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you with other men,” I assure her, reaching for her hand. “So your mother watched it too?”

“Yeah, I think she’s totally freaking out.” She turns to me with wide eyes. “She doesn’t want me to go right from one train wreck to another.” She crosses her arms and turns to the passenger side window.

“After the trade show, I’ll have more time, so I’ll take both of you to dinner one night. Just ask her what night works best for her,” I tell her, since my schedule is fairly open after we get back. “Don’t worry, I’ll win her over.”

“Is that what you did with me? Win me over?” she asks, making it sound like something manipulative.

“I hope so, because you won me over the very first day I met you,” I reply, trying to explain what I mean. “Whenever I see you in pain, it literally makes my heart hurt. Like that day I found you in tears in your office. I had no intention of making love to you that night. I just wanted to help you feel better.”

“You definitely made me feel better.” She giggles. “The next day I was like, Kip who?”

“What can I say? I’ve always been more of a physical healer than a talker.” I pat her leg. “I think you could use a little more healing.”

“Just don’t hurt me,” she says, tears once again pushing into the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t leave me broken like all those other girls.”

“Those girls make up a very small percentage of my clients, both in their looks and the results. I didn’t become so popular by leaving behind a string of broken women,” I explain, wanting her to know that I was honestly providing a valuable service. “Most women came to me because they already felt they were broken. I made it clear that I wasn’t the solution, but I could show them the way. The fact that those women claim that I broke them is ridiculous. They were already there.”

After a long moment of reflection, she looks over at me. “I was already broken too. I just don’t want to end up back there again.”

“All you have to do is trust me,” I reply, running my hand along her thigh. “I was probably more broken than all of you put together. I have no desire to go back there either. So please trust me in spite of all the shit that keeps hitting the fan.” We exchange weary smiles upon entering I-90, headed east to my place.

I’m not sure if she believes me, but plenty of baggage builds up when you are providing a service that others view as questionably moral. After ten years, I was looking for an opportunity to step away, but I had envisioned a graceful exit instead of having everything blow up in my face. After experiencing all of that bitterness online, I truly feel for kids who are bullied. I had a hard time handling all the pain and anxiety, even though I was thirty-one years old. I can’t imagine going through that as a kid. This world can be a very cruel place, especially online. At this point in my life, I want nothing more than a long-term, stable relationship with Felicia. My only hope is that I don’t blow it.

Felicia

After picking up salads at Panera, we have lunch at his condo. It’s gloomy and rainy, so we sit at the dining room table, but the view is still wonderful. As I eat my strawberry poppyseed chicken salad, I can’t ignore the feeling that I’ve already been through the wringer and it’s just after one o’clock. My eyes burn and I have a dull headache from all the overstimulation. “I think I’m going to need a nap,” I tell him, setting his expectations.

“I’m great at naps,” he says, shrugging his eyebrows. “Plus, I always wake up with a raging hard-on. So I’m all for it.”

“Wow, a double bonus.” I laugh at his boyish expression.

Within seconds, the former somberness returns. “You hate your office, and lately, I haven’t been having much fun there either. What do you say we tune everyone out and just work from here this week? Maybe we should even fly to LA a day early.”

“Sounds great because you’re totally right about that office. Being stuck back there in that boring, colorless box of fluorescent lighting is the pits. I never see anyone except the maintenance guy or the cleaning crew. I can’t believe Barb stuck me back there all by myself.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies with a guilty look. “I asked Barb to move you because it was too distracting having you in the E-suite.” He closes his eyes as if he’s bracing for some sort of retaliation.

Instead, I lean forward and kiss him on the lips, coaxing his eyes back open. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I kind of figured it was something like that because you kept forgetting what you were doing every time you flirted with me.”

“Yeah, just like a school kid. I couldn’t focus with a pretty girl in the room.” He sets down his fork and takes my hand. “Right now, my focus is on that nap.”

After slipping out of our dress clothes, he pulls back the comforter and guides me between the sheets. My mind begins to ease as we turn our backs on the cool, dreary day. One of the most frustrating days I’ve had in years quickly fades into the background as he snuggles in behind me and wraps his arm around me. His energy begins to radiate through me, warming me to the core, so what else could possibly matter? It’s easy to see why some of his clients would have difficulty letting go. I want to feel like this forever. Why don’t we spend more time snuggled in the arms of our lovers? “Promise me you’ll snuggle me like this even after the newness wears off.” I push back into him, yearning to be as close as possible.

“I promise.” He runs his hand down the side of my body and stops on my hip. “This isn’t very conducive to sleeping though.” He nudges me with his stiff cock.

“I’m not tired anyway. It was just such a stressful morning.” I reach back and glide my fingers along the outline of his bulge. He flexes his hips in an obvious play for a more aggressive touch. I pull back and continue to lightly tease him. “You aren’t in a hurry, are you?”

“No. I’ve just been thinking about you all morning.” He pushes my hair to the side, and his lips begin to travel slowly from my shoulder up to my earlobe before lingering in that tender spot that instantly makes me wet.

“Mm, yeah . . . I was having trouble focusing too.” I turn my head just a bit, giving him easier access. “Having that demo of your dick in my office doesn’t help either.” I moan as he continues to make love to my neck with his lips and tongue. I begin stroking him as my internal temperature continues to rise.

He glides his hand over my hip and nestles it between my thighs. I giggle and keep my legs tightly together, not allowing him access. Undeterred, he slips his middle finger into the small gap and begins to move up and down over my clit. “Remember, we’re not in a hurry,” he reminds me as I start to stroke him more aggressively.

“You’re right. I want this to last,” I reply, immediately lightening my touch and going back to the teasing strokes. There is no place I would rather spend the afternoon than in his arms, so there is no reason to rush. He leans back and unhooks my bra with his other hand. “I’m impressed you can do that left-handed.” I turn onto my back, giving him full access.

“I’m ambidextrous when it comes to crucial tasks,” he says with a snicker, gliding his hand slowly up my body before lingering under the left cup of my bra. “God, I love your breasts. They fit so perfectly in my hand.” He rolls one nipple between his fingertips while taking the other between his lips. I’ve always thought that my breasts were too small, so I’m glad he appreciates them. I slip my fingers beneath his waistband, taking hold of his rock hard manhood. There’s nothing I want more than to feel him inside me, but I take a deep breath and begin focusing on my breasts. My God, he’s making me so wet.

“Fuck, I love that.” I gasp as his hand travels beneath my waistband and he slips a finger between my drenched lips. “That’s awesome,” I encourage him, wanting him to continue sucking on my nipples while massaging my clit. There’s something about that combination that instantly sends waves of pleasure throughout my midsection. I know he’s called it the magic triangle, and I can see why. They must be all interconnected in some way. He pulls back from my hand, so I simply focus on all the incredible sensations that are coursing through me. Instead of eagerly anticipating the next phase, I try to clear my mind and enjoy everything that is happening in the moment. It works, and I almost immediately begin to shudder as an undeniably strong impulse travels through my entire body, curling my toes and catching my breath. Oh . . . my . . . God . . .

“There you go,” he coos, immediately plunging his finger inside me, obviously looking to extend the moment.

“Oh, fuck . . .” The words catch in my throat as he begins to stroke my G-spot with an intensity that I’ve never known. My entire body clenches as I reach out, grabbing hold of his hair. “Oh, fuck . . .” I say once again, the only words that truly capture the feeling. I lift my head, looking down at what he’s doing, and continue to tug at his hair, but he is completely unfazed. He appears determined to drive me well past the point of oblivion this time, so I release my grip and let my head drop back onto the bed. My breath catches again as my entire midsection clenches this time and an orgasmic wave crashes through me. “Please stop . . . please,” I beg as a sensation that resembles fireworks going off in my head rips through me, leaving me breathless and honestly, a bit taken aback. “Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

“Can you think of a better way to go?” he whispers, coming up to kiss my cheek. “I love blowing your mind. It makes my dick so fucking hard to hear you beg like that.”

“I’m glad it works for you, because it sure as hell works for me,” I admit with a smile. “I just don’t want to have a stroke or anything. That was so damn intense.”

My eyes are actually blurry as I try to focus on his face. It’s probably just tears, but I find it a bit unnerving. The warmth that continues to filter through my body, on the other hand, is completely spectacular. The tension that had me clenching my jaw a couple of hours ago has been replaced by a deep serenity that is simply indescribable. He turns my head toward him and kisses me softly. I pull back, looking into his warm eyes. “You’re amazing,” he declares, beating me to the punch. “I’m glad you can orgasm like that. It’s a real gift.”

I laugh, nearly choking on my tongue. “You’re the one with the gift. I’ve never experienced anything close to that before you.”

“No, it was in you all along. You just needed someone who could bring it out for you,” he says, snuggling closer to me so I can now feel his hardness firmly against my leg.

“Now we have to do something for you,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m a little afraid that something is going to blow if we don’t relieve some pressure.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want that,” he whispers back with a smile crossing his lips. He slips his shorts off before coaxing mine down my legs and tossing them to the floor. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he growls as he crosses over my leg and positions himself between them. “Fucking you is unlike anything I’ve experienced before.” He suddenly gets a perturbed look on his face and looks toward the nightstand that is well out of reach.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” I say, coaxing him to stay in position. “When I checked my voicemail earlier, there was a message from the clinic. Everything came back negative.”

“And you’re on birth control?” he asks, double-checking to be sure. After what he’s been going through, I would be a little paranoid too.

“I am. My doctor told me it’s ninety-nine point nine percent effective,” I assure him. “I want to feel you inside me, so I’ll take full responsibility for the other point one.”

“Honestly, if that occurs against those odds, then you and I are meant to have a baby together,” he says, slipping inside me. “This is actually another first for me,” he says, closing his eyes momentarily, appearing to savor the feeling. His admission triggers questions for me, but this isn’t the time or place. Instead, I relax and enjoy the same sensations that have him transfixed. He maintains a slow, deliberate pace that instantly sends sensations all the way into my toes. He cradles my head in his hands and kisses my lips with an obvious passion. This man really does want me. It’s obvious in his touch. This is all I want to do for the rest of the afternoon. The rest of the week even. This is pure bliss.