“It’s fantastic to meet you.”
Stacie’s mouth was bone dry as she tried to speak. “Nice to meet you too,” she managed to croak. “Could I possibly have a glass of water?”
“Of course.” He stepped away—Stacie felt both relief at the cessation of his disturbing nearness, and a keen sense of loss at his absence—and went to a small table on which stood a jug of water and two glasses. He poured her a glass and brought it to her and the relief she felt on his return shocked her. For heaven’s sake, he had only gone across the room. Gathering together her courage, she made eye contact and smiled at him as she took a sip. He smiled back. Then she started as he moved suddenly away from her toward the bed.
“I’ll show you round the room, if you like,” he said, not waiting for her to agree. He pointed to two large red round buttons situated on either side of the bed. “These are panic buttons. If, by any remote chance, you need urgent help, they will alert reception.”
Stacie couldn’t imagine under what circumstances she would need a panic button. It wasn't like he was going to rape her. But, once there, the thought persisted and uneasiness crept in. What might happen in here that would necessitate the installation of panic buttons? He opened the top drawer of a large dresser by the window.
“There is a phone in here.” He pulled it out to show her. “You can ring zero for reception or two for the kitchen. There’s also a menu for food and beverages if needed,” he went on, pulling them out of the drawer to show her.
Stacie gazed around the dazzling room. The large four-poster bed dominated. It was adorned with a deep purple duvet, shot through with black and gold. Matching cushions were arranged on the bed, and the canopy above was hung with purple and gold voiles. Heavier purple curtains hung at the large window. There were two black leather tub chairs with a small table between them, and buttery-gold wallpaper completed the look. There was no ceiling light. Instead, the room was illuminated by several wall lights which were dimmed to a cosy level. The aroma of vanilla permeated the room, presumably from the bowl of pot pourri on the table.
He continued. “There are two large wardrobes if you decide to book one of the weekend packages,” he said. Her gaze obediently followed where he pointed, and she cast her eyes over the wardrobes, which matched the lovely old oak of the antique dresser.
Dan moved to a door to the far right. Stacie followed him, noticing his cute, perfectly-shaped bottom enticingly encased in the black denim.
“The en-suite is through here and again there is a panic button,” he said, opening the door and allowing Stacie to step in before him.
The bathroom was spacious with a large Jacuzzi and a shower big enough to take several people. Now where did that thought come from? Stacie was shocked at herself and forced her thoughts back to a civilized level. The room was decorated with cream patterned tiles and earth-toned stone floor tiles. Soft luxurious cream towels were piled on a side table and candles were placed strategically around the room.
She followed him back out into the bedroom and Dan led the way to the seating area. He sat down in one of the tub chairs and indicated the other. “Please, take a seat.”
She sat down and turned her attention to Dan sitting directly opposite her. She tried her best to meet his direct gaze, but his eyes overpowered her. She gulped, and turned her head away, suddenly very, very uncertain.
“Angel told me you need to start with the basics.”
Stacie looked down at the floor in embarrassment, her cheeks flaming.
“When was the last time you masturbated?”
“I don’t know. Maybe five years ago,” she said miserably.
“Five years?” His perfectly-shaped eyebrows flew up. Did he wax them?
She felt such a fool, babbling in her haste to try to explain. “My husband didn’t like me to pleasure myself. He thought women masturbating was insulting. He wanted to do it all.” Not that he ever managed to. “So I never…did that…when we were married. And since my marriage ended, I dedicated myself to my work. I work overtime as much as possible and spend my time off doing housework or visiting family.”
“So you hardly make any time for yourself?”
Stacie tried to look at him without blushing. The furnace flaring in her cheeks told her she had failed. “No. It didn’t really seem important.”
Dan thought for a few minutes. “I have a few options here for you. Stacie, what your husband did to you was disgraceful and has left you in shreds. You are my client and you are paying for me to help you. Think of me more like a therapist than anything else. You will take the lead in everything we do. I might make suggestions, but the end decision is up to you. For now, we can either talk for a while and get to know each other a little, to build up your trust in me, or we can get down to business straightaway. It’s entirely up to you. I am yours to command.” He smiled and spread his hands out.
Stacie gazed at him, liking what she heard. Therapist, hmm? That sounded a bit better than anything else she could think of to describe his role. She focussed on her handbag where she had left it on the floor, wondering how much therapy she could afford.
“What would happen if I said let’s begin now?” she asked in a small voice, still staring at her handbag.
“What I was thinking, and I want to run this all by you, was that we would go back to the complete beginning. You would learn to touch yourself, stimulating your senses and enjoying your body, not being ashamed of it.”
She inhaled deeply, trying to listen to her heart. Stacie still felt acutely anxious about the whole experience. But she reminded herself of the final stimulus that had made her send that email—a hysterically giggly conversation between her work colleagues recently, sparked by a sexual survey in some women’s magazine someone had brought in. She’d listened to them burbling about their sexual acts both with and without their partners and she’d realized her sexual organs had been made redundant. That was why she was here. Yes, it was deeply embarrassing, but going to the doctor was embarrassing and if this young man, no matter how gorgeous he was, thought he could help her, then…
“Where would you begin?” she said, suddenly eager.
“That’s up to you. On your notes you said you liked your breasts being touched, maybe…totally up to you…but maybe we could begin there,” he said.
Stacie panicked. “You would see me?”
“That’s for you to decide. It would be better if I did, but it’s your choice, Stacie,” he said.
Stacie’s sudden bravado fled. “May I use the bathroom?”
“Of course.”
Not wasting a second she headed into the stunning en-suite. She closed the door and pressed her back against it, feeling a total wreck.
Her head filled with concerns. She was wavering, not altogether sure of the right thing to do. Her breathing became rapid and panicky. She pushed herself off the door and sat down on the closed toilet lid, taking deep breaths to try to calm herself.
“Come on Stacie, sort yourself out. Yes, he’s gorgeous, nothing like you expected, but you’re paying for the session with him. This is a sex club. What did you expect?” she muttered to herself, keeping her voice low. She didn’t want him to hear her talking to herself. He probably already thought she was enough of a fruit loop.
Stacie headed over to the sink and stared at her own petrified face in the mirror.
“Right, girl.” She glared at herself right in the eye. “You’ve come here to get help. You either walk and be boring and alone for the rest of your life, or you have that nice young man out there teach you.” She gazed back at the bathroom door, with Dan the other side of it. Acid panic splashed about in her stomach, and a lump the size of Everest rose in her throat, but she knew what she had to do.
Stacie opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Dan still sat in the same place. He looked at her with a question written clearly on his face. She smiled and his face relaxed. He grinned back.
Dan watched Stacie make her way to the bed. She
removed her jacket and sat down, wearing just her too-high blouse and too-long skirt. He stood up and walked toward her. “Are you sure?” he said.
“I am. Let’s do it.”
He pulled out the stool from under the dresser and sat down.
“Put out your arm,” he instructed her.
Stacie gazed at him, feeling like an idiot. She did what he asked, however, and held out her arm. “Now, lightly place your fingertips along your arm and feel the sensitivity.” Stacie did so, drawing her fingernails along her skin.
“How does that feel?” he said to her.
“It tickles.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.” She looked into his deep brown eyes.
“Good. We can begin there. I want you to lightly touch yourself across your hips, waist, thighs, and your breasts.”
Another surge of embarrassment flooded her face. God, she was going to have to get over this.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“It’s just weird.”
“How so?”
“Having another man look at me.”
“Don’t think of me as a man. Think of me as a professional. I’m here to help you achieve your goal.” He paused and his eyes flicked over her body. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed about, you know. You look great, you’ve just got a little side-tracked in your life and forgotten about number one.”
Stacie jumped as he rose up from his chair and came toward her, but he just sat down beside her on the bed and took her hand.
“Look, I do understand what you’re thinking, but I really want to help you. I want you to be confident about yourself and enjoy who you are. Don’t allow your ex to win, Stacie. You are a very attractive woman who needs help in regaining her self-esteem, and I am more than happy to get you back on track.”
Oh my God…how sweet are you?
She knew he was right and her ex had wasted her life, but she struggled to believe the words he said. Did it matter if he was lying about her being attractive? Did it matter if he was just saying it to make her feel better about herself? That was his job, right? And he was just doing it.
“Do you feel you can begin?” she heard him say.
Stacie glanced into his eyes, seeing them filled with concern. For her? Or for potentially losing a client?
I can’t allow this chance to slip away. Her heart pounded as she gave a tiny little nod of assent, wondering what the gorgeous Dan was going to do with her. He smiled, a big wide happy smile and stood up. Stacie grinned back slightly hysterically, feeling more sorry for him having to tutor her. I hope I’m not going to be his worst client.
“Right, let’s begin.”
He sat back down on the stool opposite her but pulled it closer, so their knees touched.
“Close your eyes, Stacie,” he said softly.
Stacie closed her eyes tightly and awaited further instructions.
“Place your hands on your tummy and slowly move your hands around your body.”
She obeyed, moving her hands gradually across her stomach and gliding them toward her waist. A crop of goosebumps spread out over her skin under the thin short-sleeved blouse, and she shivered. She kept her breathing steady, allowing her own touch to relax her. She slid both hands down over her thighs and back up again.
Stacie glided her fingertips over her naked arms, the sensation sending quivers throughout her body. Her tension trickled away, her shoulders dropped and her breathing slowed down. Stacie felt her inner vaginal muscles tighten of their own volition.
She began to move her hands more quickly over her body.
“No, Stacie, take it slowly and enjoy the sensation,” she heard him say in a quiet voice.
She listened to his command, placing her hands back on her tummy to knead the area. The lower part of her body jiggled with pleasure. How could she be turned on just by touching her own stomach and arms?
“Where would you like to touch yourself next?”
My breasts, was her immediate thought. Here it is. Can I really play with my own breasts in front of a total stranger?
Pretend he’s not there, she advised herself. But he is, she argued back. In the end, her hands, despairing of her pathetic indecisive brain, decided the matter and headed north by themselves. One brush of her fingers against her sensitive nipples and she wondered why she’d ever doubted Dan. Her breasts were swollen and responsive. She let out a tiny involuntary noise as she cupped both breasts together, squeezing them, sending pulses running around her body like shockwaves. An image came into her head of Dan moving behind her, taking over, touching her, fondling her. The thought shocked her to the extent that she almost stopped, but after a second, decided to go with the fantasy. Fantasy Dan placed his hands on either side of her waist, sliding them across her stomach and up to her breasts. He caressed her breasts and lifted them up, rubbing his thumbs over them.
Then she nearly jumped ten feet in the air when she felt real, warm, man’s hands on her waist. “Keep your eyes closed,” she heard him say. She felt Dan’s fingers stroke her waist through her blouse, then his fingers moved away. She almost protested, but then she felt him start to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. Her own fingers froze.
“Are you okay with this?” he said, pausing.
Am I? Stacie wasn't sure, but her head nodded all by itself and Dan continued with the buttons. Her only thought then was that she wished she’d worn a sexier bra, but then she’d thought she was coming here for an appointment. She hadn’t expected to start straightaway. The blouse slithered off her shoulders and she wondered if Dan would take off her bra also. Dread and hope warred within her, and the disappointment when he made no move to do so cut deep.
Stacie kept her rhythm, moving her fingertips over her lace-encased flesh, the sensations even more intense through one less layer of material. Her nipples poked hard through the bra cup and she tweaked them between her fingertips. She found herself grinding into the bed, pussy twitching, whilst her fingertips ran over her ultra-sensitive skin.
She wished Dan would come back. She wanted to feel those warm hands on her again. She half-opened her mouth to ask him, then chickened out.
But there was no stopping her fantasies. Her mind ran crazy, as she continued to touch and knead and caress her breasts. She heard Dan moving away from the edge of his stool and her heart almost leapt out of her throat. Stacie held her breath.
She felt him move behind her on the bed. Touch me! her mind screamed. She felt his hands on her back, unclasping her bra. Stacie moved her hands from her breasts, allowing the bra to drop onto her lap. Now. Touch me now! She leaned back into him, feeling the heat of his body behind her. But he still made no move to touch her so she seized her own breasts, imagining him lowering her to the bed and taking her. She floated her fingertips over her aroused nipples sending white-hot sensations bolting around her body. She pinched harder, the pain pleasurable. Her pussy throbbed almost unbearably, seemingly on a direct link from her breasts.
She couldn’t stop one hand from dropping to her pussy, rubbing wildly through her skirt. Instantly, her body was overwhelmed with arousal. She lunged her hips forward, shuddering with eruption. Stacie ground her lower pelvis against her hand whilst pinching her nipple with the other. Her hips lunged high off the bed and sweat prickled over her body. Her entire body was on fire and out of control.
Stacie let out a shuddering exhale as the peak died away and she flopped back against Dan, trying hard to catch her breath. She felt her racing heartbeat begin to slow.
She felt Dan’s hands patting her upper arms, then he put her forward slightly and moved away from behind her. Stacie could hear him rummaging around. She lay on her side, taking deep breaths to calm her body down. With reluctance, she opened her eyes, staring directly in front of her. How could she look at him?
“I think you need this.” Dan sat back down on the little stool opposite the bed and passed her some water. “How was that?”
Stacie took the glass from
him. She had a sip of the water, and let her gaze flick briefly to his before resting on the floor again. There was no repugnance on his face, no ridicule, just a soft, happy smile.
“It was amazing. It blew me away.” Stacie found her embarrassment draining.
“Good. You did really well.”
Chapter Two
Stacie hadn’t slept a wink. Her mind churned with thoughts of last night, and Dan.
Stacie stared at the phone. Should she call the club? Impulsively she picked it up, then tossed it back on the bed and threw her head back on her pillow. Thoughts of last night once more filled her mind and she sat back up. The phone drew her eye again, sitting innocently, and yet enticingly on the bedside table. “Oh God, what am I doing?”
She grabbed the phone as if it might suddenly disappear, found the number for Desires and pressed the call button, only to stop the call as soon as it had begun to ring.
“Come on, Stacie, sort yourself out…do it…call the damn place,” she chastised herself, frustrated with her own indecisiveness.
She dialled again and waited for the reply.
“Desires, how may I help you?” said a young female voice.
“Hi…sorry…I was wondering…I was at the club last night and well…I had my first session. And I was wondering if I could book again?”
“Of course. Could I have your name and identity code?” Stacie gave the receptionist the information. “You were with Dan?”
“Yes. Do you know when the next session would be?”
“I’ll just check his schedule for you,” the woman told her. Stacie anxiously waited for her answer. “Well, he’s not down for working at the club tonight…” she began.
“Oh,” Stacie blurted, disappointed.
“But I could call him to see if he can come in to see you,” the woman said.
“Okay. It isn’t urgent or anything.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you if he can. What did you have in mind?”
Stacie paused. She wanted more than just a quickie. She wanted to spend time with him, get to know him. “How much would it cost from dinner this evening through to lunchtime tomorrow?”
Desires Page 3