Well, I’d been surprised twice this week, first by Paul, and then by Ben. I wasn’t looking forward to having sex with a man who was old enough to father Moses, but I would have done it. Ben was a nice guy, and I couldn’t hold his age against him. Now I was grateful for his age.
“I would be honored to have dinner with you. How often do you think you would like that?” I was learning to play the game. I didn’t want to force him into a situation, but I had a schedule to maintain, and I had to know.
“Crowded restaurants bother me. I don’t want to wait hours for my food. I want it when I want it. If Mondays are good for you, I would love to schedule yours for the foreseeable future.” He wanted a permanent day. I would get to enjoy dinner with a brilliant older man, and all he wanted in return was for me to look pretty and show up. I could do that.
Dinner was relaxing. We discussed politics in-between delectable morsels of perfectly cooked salmon. It was interesting that we had the same taste in food. Our view on politics was dissimilar. He came from a different generation, and therefore his thoughts were more conservative than mine. In the end, we agreed to disagree.
Nothing about tonight could be compared to Jonathan except the dark corner booth. Everything was friendly and completely non-sexual. I have had three second encounters, and only one has visited the inside of my vagina. I was feeling good about that.
Chapter 19
Dressed in red, I showed up to the Waldorf Astoria at the specified time. Paul was waiting at the bar, chatting with the bartender. His confidence seemed high and his demeanor positive. This was a very different man to the one I met on Friday. This man seemed relaxed. He wasn’t ready to jump out of his skin. He looked ready to jump into mine, though.
He rose from his seat the minute he saw me. In a rush, he hugged me tightly and twirled me around. I nearly lost a shoe from the velocity of his spin. When he put me down, I had to grab the bar to stop the whirling.
Once righted, I greeted him. “Hey, you. Having a good day?”
“Not so much, but I’m looking forward to a great night.” He was giddy like a child.
“Did you do your homework?” I wondered how many peaches he had eaten. I had a feeling he had been on a steady diet since Friday.
“Yes. I’m excited to show you what I’ve learned. Would you like a drink first?” He offered the drink, but I could tell he was excited to get the night started. I wasn’t freaking out, so I saw no reason to delay. I felt comfortable with Paul. His gentle enthusiasm was charming.
I glanced around the bar and caught the eye of Craig Hagen sitting at the other end. He left a message, and I had not returned it. I looked in his direction while he picked up his drink in a silent toast.
Thank goodness Paul didn’t notice. How crazy would that have been? How often would I run into the same people? They said the world was small, but I never expected it to be that tiny.
I would contact Craig when I got home. I’d hoped for a quick evening. I had lots of homework to do.
Paul walked confidently to the elevator. His fingers didn’t shake as he pushed the button to our floor. Twelve. It looked like we were moving up in the world. As we reached the door, he pulled the keycard from his pocket like a gunslinger pulled his weapon. Paul was feeling self-assured, and I was happy for him.
I didn’t know what to make of his newfound confidence. What would that mean for me? The room was similarly outfitted to our previous room. The only difference: a vase of flowers and a bottle of wine on the table.
“Thank you for everything you are doing for me, River.” His voice cracked ever so slightly, and I wondered if I were going to see a grown man cry for the first time in my life. I’d seen plenty of women bawl their eyes out, but men seemed to be made of tougher stuff.
“I didn’t do anything for you.”
I believed it was the truth. I told him the facts. We all had shortcomings. When you found yours, you had to depend on your stronger assets. Paul’s button wasn’t an asset, neither were his oral skills. We couldn’t make him grow, but we could make his tongue perform better.
He poured us each a glass of wine and toasted to bigger and better things. Lord, I prayed he wasn’t hoping for a miracle. No amount of pixie dust could help his tiny peter.
“Shall we start with a shower? I hear that’s a good way to begin.”
His words were perfectly scripted from our last encounter, only this time he didn’t have to waste his time being embarrassed and nervous. We both knew what we were dealing with, and it made the whole experience easier.
“Sure, I’ll start the water.”
Without hesitation, I entered the bathroom and started the shower. I felt his presence before I saw him. His kisses trailed down my neck and ended at my shoulder. He lowered the zipper of my dress and carefully let it slip past my shoulders. As it fell from my body, I stepped out of it and stood before him in a bra, underwear, and heels. With him behind me, I couldn’t see his face. I hoped he was pleased with my selection of undergarments. The red of my lingerie matched my dress exactly.
His catcall whistles validated my choices. I bent over and picked up my dress. I knew exactly what I was doing when I presented my ass to him. I wanted to drive the night forward so we could be done with it. There was only this night and tomorrow’s meet-and-greet standing between Jonathan and me.
I felt his soft hand glide over the curve of my ass and fumble with my underwear. This poor man was going to need more than oral sex lessons. He needed to rewrite his entire playbook.
I took his hands and placed his thumbs inside the elastic band at my hips. “Slow, like this. Drive her crazy with the anticipation.”
I helped him shimmy the fabric over my hips and down my legs. I coaxed him to lift my shoes one at a time while I taught him to glide his hand between my thighs before he pulled the fabric free.
When it came to my bra, I told him to pay attention to the garment. The woman probably had taken her time to select it for him. He should appreciate the gift. I had him run one finger under the lace of the cup and skim my nipple. I asked him to press his lips to my lace-covered nipples and make them beg to be set free. Once they hardened like pebbles, he could release the hook and eye one at a time. Again, I tried to teach him patience through seduction. Or was it seduction through patience?
In nothing but heels, I worked on his clothes. One button at a time, I seduced his body. The only way I knew he was affected was his breathing. Most men would have a bulge in their pants. Poor Paul had nothing to work with, so I listened to his body, which said he was totally turned on. I, on the other hand, hadn’t felt the slightest tingle.
A shower was a nice way to start. It was warm and relaxing and clean. It washed the filth from my body before anything took place. Thankfully, I’d been lucky enough to have men who had various needs. Ben wanted company, Paul wanted confidence, and Jonathan wanted…what did Jonathan want? Everything? Nothing? I wasn’t sure.
We began the night lying in bed and talking about peaches. My original thoughts were confirmed when he gave me a list of peaches and told me which were still good this late in the season.
I gave him the option of using a barrier. I’d brought several with me just in case. It wasn’t something I’d considered until I talked to Luca. Apparently, my recent medical exam was posted online with my profile, and I was given a gold star.
He climbed between my legs and began. This time, his approach was slow and methodical. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t arousing. Who would have thought peaches could do the trick? Clearly, Cosmo did.
He had listened to everything I’d told him. He placed his hands on my thighs and felt for my response. He knew I was aroused simply from my breathing. He pulled me to the edge, and when I began to shake, he retreated. I wanted to pat him on the head like a good child.
That thought led to a thought about my mother and how she’d always patted me on the head. Was that her way of telling me I had done okay? I would have to give that more tho
ught. Right now, I had to focus, and the errant thought of my mother had completely obliterated my tingle.
It didn’t take long for him to pull me back into the moment. I swear, the man was softly manipulating my flesh from the seed—the hard knob of tangled nerves. He focused and then sucked at the flesh of my fruit until I was panting and begging for release.
He pulled me close and pushed me away for over thirty minutes. I closed my eyes and pictured a head of dark hair peppered with gray settled between my legs. I sank into a soft place and floated there for eternity. The burning in my belly was the first sign I’d reached the point of no return.
He knew it, too. My body quivered and quaked. I closed my legs around his head, afraid he would pull back before I selfishly accepted it all.
“Look at me.”
The voice didn’t match the picture in my head. I wanted dark, slow molasses, not a Hampton lobster boil. It was all wrong, but it was too late. My eyes had opened and caught the joy of the baby blues in front of me. He felt wonderful, and I was the one who came. I should have felt on top of the world, and yet, I felt polluted. It was so wrong, and somehow it was exactly right.
My mind and body came back together. I was the mentor, and my student deserved praise. “Oh my God, that was amazing. Who would have known you had it in you? Are you sick of peaches?” He looked proud. I wondered how many years this man had felt inadequate. “How old are you, Paul?”
The bed sunk under his weight. He climbed in next to me and pulled me into his arms. I would have to set his passion free soon, but for now, we would cuddle.
“I’m thirty-five, and I think that was the first time I’ve made a woman come.”
I could hear the pride in his voice. I wasn’t going to take the accomplishment away from him because I hadn’t come to terms with what I’d become.
“Really?”
“You didn’t fake it, did you?” His body stiffened at the possibility.
“I never fake it. What good would that do? Did you feel my body quake? That can’t be faked.” I wasn’t sure if it could or not, but I said it to give him something to hold on to.
He proceeded to tell me everything he thought and felt while savoring me. I listened intently. At times, it felt like he was the only one who had participated because I didn’t pick up on half the stuff he did. At the end of his story, I was positive I’d checked out of his room and into Jonathan’s halfway through. What the hell was I doing?
I lay with my hand on his chest. My hand followed his chest hair down his stomach to the thatch of curls between his legs. It was time to pony up so I could go home. He stopped my hand when it reached his button.
“Sadly, I have something else to work on. The minute you came, so did I. Last week, I would have felt ashamed. Today, I feel accomplished.” I suppose he could chalk himself up for two orgasms: one for me, and one for him.
“I should get going.” I peeked at the clock and saw an hour was almost up.
“Can you stay another hour? I want to bask in the afterglow, and it wouldn’t be as pleasant alone.”
How could I say no? He had given me a gift. When it came down to it, I didn’t feel dirty because of the orgasm; I felt dirty because I felt like I was cheating on Jonathan. However, that scenario wouldn’t ever be a possibility. I didn’t belong to Jonathan, and he didn’t belong to me. I belonged to whoever was willing to pay three hundred fifty dollars an hour. Paul was that man tonight, and I would give him his money’s worth.
We ordered room service because neither of us had eaten. When it arrived, we ate in bed with me cuddled up to his side. He was comfortable and safe.
“Well, Paul, what are you going to do with your newfound skills?”
He sipped the soda he’d ordered and turned to look at me. “I feel great about what happened with us tonight. I feel comfortable with you. You didn’t judge me or make me feel inadequate in any way.” I could tell something was on his mind.
“Spit it out, Mister.” I saw his confidence was wavering. One time didn’t make a master. It was written all over his face.
“This could have been a fluke.” His body stiffened, and not in a good way.
“What you did took skill. A fluke would have been if I’d primed myself with a vibrator and you happened to touch me in the right spot at the right time to send me over the edge. You were the vibrator. You did the priming and the finishing touch. Own it, Paul. You made me fall to pieces in your mouth. With your mouth.”
Again, the truth. It didn’t take a particular person to make me come, but it had felt different. Every nerve in my body sang with Jonathan, but only the nerves between my legs sang with Paul. They were different songs.
“Thank you for that. Still, I want to build my confidence. I want to master this thing before I subject myself to rejection. Can I have your next few Tuesdays?” He looked at me like a kid looked at his parents when the ice cream truck was passing by.
“Of course. You want some more homework?” This time, it wouldn’t be eating peaches.
“Do I need homework?” His head fell to his chest.
“No, your oral skills took a one-eighty. How do you feel about masturbation?”
“I like it.”
“Good, do it a lot, but don’t let yourself come. This isn’t for your woman; this is for you. The longer you wait, the more powerful your orgasm will be. I’m sure you know that, but you deserve earth-shattering, too.”
“Is that what I gave you? Was it earth-shattering?”
“Yes.” All orgasms seemed to crack the earth around me. Some more than others. “Also, I want you to trim your freaking bush. You don’t have to hide your man parts in a forest. In fact, you would look larger if you manscaped.”
“Yes, ma’am. I really like you, River. You have been good for me.” He set the room service tray aside and pulled me into his arms. He felt comfortable, like a plush throw in the winter.
“I like you, too, Paul. You’re a good guy, with a big heart.”
And a little penis.
Chapter 20
Hunter Glendale was my Wednesday meet-and-greet. He was a jumbo man. Not large, but supersized. He took me to an all-you-can-eat buffet outside Union Station. The staff looked nervous the minute we entered. I’m pretty sure the hostess ran to the back and told them to keep it coming.
In spite of his size, he was nice-looking. He dressed in a custom suit and wore a Cartier watch. His nails were manicured, and his skin was nice. If he dropped a hundred pounds, he would have looked like an older Ryan Gosling.
We chatted about the stock market and how volatile it was. We discussed oil futures and energy costs. At the end of the hour, he looked at me and said, “River, you’re sweet, and I like you. But you remind me of my granddaughter, and I just can’t go there.”
Relief washed over me. I didn’t want to pick up new clients. I wanted to stick with the few I had. Jonathan, Ben, and Paul were the perfect mix for me. I still had Donald Zane and Craig Hagen to get through.
I hoped my feigned look of disappointment was believable. I wanted him to think I wanted to be with him. One of the things I’d learned since my journey began was that powerful men didn’t always have matching egos. Often, they were insecure and stayed hidden behind the power of their positions.
Once we parted company, I looked to the sky and thanked the universe. The heavens had blessed me.
My phone pinged with an incoming message. I presumed it would be Craig. I’d left him a message when I got home last night, telling him Thursday was open. I knew I would be sore from tonight’s encounter, but I wanted to tie up loose ends quickly. The faster I adjusted my schedule to three, the easier it would be to adjust to my new lifestyle.
I quickly calculated my earnings. Two overnights with Jonathan would be twenty-eight hundred dollars. Add an hour each with Ben and Paul, and that would take my weekly earnings up to thirty-five hundred dollars. I would be making fourteen thousand dollars per month before taxes. That was more than enough t
o make ends meet and pay off my student loans. When Paul dropped me, I would still be fine. I would be more than fine.
My guess was correct. Craig was delighted I had Thursday free. He gave me an address and told me to arrive at eight. I didn’t recognize the address and wondered in what area of town it was located. My best guess was a boutique hotel somewhere downtown. I tapped in a confirmation and headed home. I had to be ready for Howard to pick me up in a few hours.
I texted Jade on my way home. She didn’t meet me for our before-class coffee on Tuesday, and I hadn’t heard from her since.
I’m worried about you. You didn’t show for coffee and you didn’t answer my text last night. What gives? Are you okay?
Why was it when you were waiting for someone to text you it took forever, but when you didn’t want to hear from someone, they were always around? I was worried about Jade. Her text came in a few minutes later.
I’m fine. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and slept most of the day. I didn’t text because you were meeting with a mentor. I’m fine. I’m sorry to stress you out. The duo is coming into town Thursday and I’ll be busy all weekend. Let’s meet for coffee Tuesday.
Tuesday? That meant she wouldn’t be meeting me for coffee tomorrow. Something was definitely up. She texted she was fine twice, which meant she was anything but fine. Jade was great, fabulous, stupendous, but she was never fine.
I’m worried about you. Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow. I’m going to worry until I see you again.
She responded immediately and included a selfie. She looked fine. Not fabulous, not great or stupendous, but fine, and I had to assume fine would be okay for now.
All right. Tuesday it is. I’m not liking it, but I’ll deal with it. I’ll be busy the rest of the week as well. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Luca is in most of my classes. We had lunch one day and we are meeting for coffee tomorrow. Join us if you can. He’s a nice guy, but he’s not you. Hugs.
The Dean’s List Page 18