He shuffled further up the bed with his knees between my legs, keeping them apart. I felt his finger trail ever so gently down between my shoulder blades. Then across my backside, drawing circles on each cheek.
“Do you like this?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His finger dipped between them, over that place that had me tense, until they slid down between my thighs.
“Can you feel how wet you are?” he said. I could only nod.
Too slow for my liking, he trailed his fingers over my opening, circling my clitoris. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sensation. He pushed two fingers inside me, hooking them to stroke and tease. I moaned. My body throbbed at his touch, hummed for more.
“You want me to do whatever I want, don’t you?” he said.
“Yes.” I was beyond more than one word answers.
“I’m going to fuck your ass,” he said.
I tensed, and then panic set in. I tried to wriggle away, he kept his fingers inside me, stroking. He placed his other hand on my lower back holding me down.
“Not now, Lauren,” he said, then chuckled.
“Not ever,” I replied.
“Never say ‘not ever’.”
He began to slide his fingers in and out of me. He slid his free hand under my hip, finding my clitoris that throbbed as he teased it, coaxing me into an orgasm.
Before I’d had a chance to come down, he moved to one side of me, held my hips and gently rolled me over. He resumed his position between my thighs. With his hands at either side of me, he lowered his head and took a nipple between his teeth. He flicked the hardened nub with his tongue then sucked it into his mouth. I arched off the bed, pushing my breast further into his mouth.
He palmed the other one, roughly squeezing until I cried out. It wasn’t a cry of pain though. Pleasure coursed through me. I missed his hot mouth on my skin when he pulled his head away.
“So you like being restrained, I can work with that. What else?”
He kissed my stomach gently; his tongue drew circles across my skin.
“I liked when I was on my knees,” I said.
“These aren’t fantasies, Lauren. Think. Delve deep into your mind.”
“I…” I had to pause as his tongue trailed through my pubic hair and stopped just short of where I so desperately wanted him to be.
“I want…”
“You want what?” His tone of voice was demanding.
He swiped his tongue over my opening, just the once before pausing again. I could feel his breath on me and it was torturous.
“Challenge me, Lauren. Give me your dirtiest, darkest, let me see if I can achieve that for you.”
My stomach lurched at his words. So this was what it was all about? His tongue lapped at my clitoris.
“I want to feel what it’s like to be with another woman,” I said.
His chuckle reverberated, causing a shock wave over my clitoris; his tongue delved inside, rewarding me for saying something that had taken me by complete surprise. Until that moment, I’d never thought of sex with another woman. I wasn’t even sure where that had come from. But I smiled, one point to me, I thought, that was something he couldn’t do to me.
His tongue brought me to another orgasm, a powerful one that ripped through my stomach, produced primal sounds from my chest and beads of sweat on my forehead.
He wasn’t about to let up though. He reinserted his fingers, his teeth gently clamped against my clitoris, and his tongue flicked the then overly sensitive nub. I drew my heels towards me, raising my hips. I wanted harder, deeper, and faster.
“More,” I said, noticing the huskiness in my own voice.
Three fingers teased and stroked. My brain was firing off electrical impulses so fast my body couldn’t keep up.
“Fuck me, please,” I said.
“No. You give me more,” he replied.
More? I wasn’t sure what it was that he had done to open that box in my mind, but the words tumbled out. I told him I wanted to have sex in public; I wanted that thrill of the possibility of being caught.
With his fingers inside me, his mouth on my clitoris, and the thoughts running through my head, I came for a third time. I know I cried out, over and over. I know I could feel tears run down my cheeks; and I know I must have fallen asleep immediately after, again.
I woke to darkness outside. I was lying under the covers, still naked and with a sticky residue between my thighs. My wrists were unbound, although my shoulders reminded me they hadn’t been for a while by the ache.
I looked around the room; Mackenzie had gone. I swung my legs from the bed and found them surprisingly stable. Naked, I stepped from the bedroom into the hallway. The apartment was quiet and I knew he’d already left. A pang of disappointment hit me until I checked my watch. It was nine o’clock. I must have slept for hours.
I walked to the kitchen needing a glass of water, which I carried back to the bedroom with me. I picked up my jeans and fished out my phone from the pocket.
You left. I typed and then sent to Mackenzie.
His reply was almost immediate.
You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.
I’m sorry I fell asleep. I sent.
Don’t be. I like that I can produce that level of arousal that it exhausts you.
Not being overly familiar with multiple orgasms, I wasn’t sure if my need for immediate sleep was normal or not. There was no fucking way I was Googling that for an answer. I decided on a shower, although it was with reluctance. Keeping the scent of my orgasms on my skin was a reminder that he had been there. His hands, his tongue, had given me more pleasure than anyone before. I smiled, thanking my stars I was only thirty, and I’d have many years of that level of pleasure.
It was as I stepped into the shower that I crashed, emotionally. I didn’t have him; I didn’t have any time other than what he offered. What we were doing wasn’t a relationship, it was just sex. I showered, picked up my phone and walked into the kitchen to fix a snack.
So, I guess you are a sex therapist after all. I typed and then pressed send.
Not so much a sex therapist, call me The Facilitator.
The Facilitator?
I’ll lead you to that place you want to be. I’ll make your dreams a reality.
Holy fuck! I prayed he didn’t mean what he’d said. I hoped I’d just totally overthought the fact I’d told my fantasies. What would he do with them?
“Stop being an idiot,” I said to myself.
He couldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do, could he?
Chapter Seven
I scanned the wardrobe deciding what to wear. I was a changed woman; well I was trying to be. I’d had three, no four, orgasms over the weekend, and I intended to do exactly what Mackenzie had suggested. I was going to shed the old Lauren and embrace the new.
I selected a pair of black trousers and paired it with a red shirt and red high heels. I let my hair hang loose, and after applying my makeup, I left for work. I was aware of the glances from men I received and I liked it. For once, I didn’t keep my head bowed; I looked up. I stood tall and I walked like a woman with a purpose.
“You look hot,” I heard Jenny say as I entered my office, a half-hour later.
“I’m thawing out,” I said with a laugh.
“About bloody time,” she called after me.
I even sat back in my chair and raised my feet to my desk as I read through some notes on a new media marketing campaign Jerry wanted to investigate.
“Fuck me,” I heard. Looking up, I saw Jerry standing in my doorway.
“I thought we’d had that discussion before?”
He laughed. “I like,” he said, sweeping his hand towards me.
I shook my head and I lowered my feet.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
“Other than the usual, what do you think of my plans?”
We spent a half-hour discussing his ideas, and I made no
tes, promising to have a full proposal for him, with costs, in a couple of days.
As much as I didn’t want to, I checked my messages and emails on a frequent basis during the day. I’d hoped for a message from Mackenzie. I tried not to be disappointed when I hadn’t received one on either. I put him to the back of my mind and continued my day.
“So, I don’t think, in the year I’ve been working here, I’ve seen you in anything other than a black or grey suit,” Jenny said, as she strode into my office.
She’d brought a coffee with her, and I winced at the taste of instant. It also reminded me that Mackenzie still had mine in the boot of his car.
“A new me, Jenny,” I said.
“Good. Me and Sally are going to a new wine bar that’s just opened around the corner after work, if you want to join us?”
Jenny had never invited me to join her after work, and her and Sally going out together surprised me.
“Sally? As in, Jerry’s Sally?”
“Another lonesome. We need to make a club, I’m on my own, she’s on her own, and you, well, no one knows whether you’re really on your own or not,” she added a wink after that comment.
Sally was Jerry’s very efficient and elderly assistant. Not someone I would have paired with Jenny nor the wine bar type.
“Yes, I will. Why not?”
“Come on then.”
I checked my watch not realising it was already five. Of course, for Jenny it was the end of the day. I packed up my things, and she used my phone to call Sally. We met her in the foyer, and I think she was as surprised to see me, as I was her.
Because the wine bar had just opened, it was fairly empty. We found a booth and ordered a cocktail each.
“We’re off duty, aren’t we?” Jenny asked.
“Sure are,” I replied.
“Okay,” she took in a deep breath, as if preparing herself to ask a difficult question. I froze, wondering what she was about to say.
“You and Jerry, have you ever…?”
I relaxed, then laughed.
“No, never. He’s a really good friend. I’ve been with him since day one.”
I then told them about our first meeting, where he’d spilled his drink on me me.
“I know what people think and even now, being single, it’s not somewhere I’d go. I cherish our friendship,” I said.
“I’d do him,” Jenny said. “But now we have the delicious Mackenzie.” She sighed as she took a sip of her drink.
“I’d do Mackenzie, although, I’m not sure my sixty-year-old body would be up for it,” Sally said.
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and it felt good. It felt good to sit, drink with a group of women, and laugh.
“Would it bother you that he owns most of the company?” I asked.
“No, it’s only a problem if it all goes tits up, I guess,” Jenny replied.
“It makes me pissed off that people think you can’t have a relationship with someone at work. If you’re professional enough, I mean, look at you and Scott,” Sally said.
“I spend most of my time avoiding him, Sally. It’s hard work. I have to sit in a meeting with him tomorrow, and I’m not looking forward to that.”
“You’ll be fine, especially if you make sure you dress to kill,” Jenny said.
“I’m so glad that bitch has gone though. I never liked her,” Sally added.
Sally liked everyone, usually. “If she had stayed, I’d have left,” I said.
“Jerry wouldn’t allow that, he booted her out the minute that video was seen. She’s a tart and he, sorry to say this, has always been a slimeball,” Sally said.
I laughed again. The feeling that other women understood what I had gone through, that they had my back, was a new feeling.
“You know, for a long time I’ve felt very alone. I know what people at work think of me, and I wasn’t trying to be aloof deliberately. I just wanted to work hard and prove myself,” I said.
“Fuck what anyone says, it’s jealousy. Yeah, they talk about you. You’re the only woman up top and best friends with the boss,” Jenny said.
“You do like to call it as it is,” Sally said with a laugh.
“No other way. Up front and honest, best policy,” she replied.
We drank a few more cocktails, laughed a lot, and staggered out to get taxis. I hadn’t done that for years, not since my college days. I smiled all the way home.
The trouble with alcohol on an empty stomach was that it affected the brain way more than it should. I’d kicked off the high heels and decided I needed water to help sober me up. I sat at the kitchen table sipping from a bottle and thinking back over the weekend. I chuckled.
“It’s a game,” I said. “Just a game.” My voice hitched mid-sentence.
Was it though? I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe he was just a perv. I giggled some more as I thought of him getting himself off on what I’d said. I cringed at the same time. Was I just a tool to entertain him? I’d played straight into his hands, I’d told him things I shouldn’t have. I felt the tears pool in my eyes.
“What a sad fuck!” I shouted. My words echoed back, reminding me there was no one to hear, no one to listen.
The other trouble with alcohol on an empty stomach was that it blurred reality; it made the recipient do dumb things. Dumb things like sending a text.
I’m a little drunk. I just wanted to say something. I sent.
A little drunk is okay, what do you want to say? Came Mackenzie’s reply.
Fuck You. I giggled as I pressed send.
Is that a request? How, Lauren? How would you fuck me?
You play a good game; want to tell me the rules? Make it an even playing field.
For someone a ‘little’ drunk you sure are articulate. And I told you; I don’t play games.
Are you mocking me?
No, Lauren. Go to bed. Was his reply.
Had I not dropped the phone, and the action of reaching down for it had my head spin, I couldn’t have been held responsible for my response. I stumbled into the bedroom and fell onto the bed. Wasn’t this the part where he was supposed to come barging in, having miraculously obtained a front door key? Or the part I find out he owns the building and security waves him past? Or the part where he rips off my clothes and makes mad, passionate love to me?
That’s what happened in my books, why couldn’t it happen in real life?
****
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, reaching for my phone to stop its alarm.
I’d patted the bedside cabinet not able to find it. With only one eye open, I realised it wasn’t there.
“Shit,” I said, as the previous evening started to replay in my mind.
Cocktails, lots of cocktails, no food, and then…Oh no!
Despite the banging in my head, I’d swung my legs from the bed and walked to the kitchen. I used my foot to sweep the phone from under the table and cursed at the cracked screen as I crouched to pick it up.
I scrolled back through my text messages. “Oh, fuck,” I said, again.
I filled a glass with water and opened one of the drawers grabbing a blister pack of pain relief. I swallowed down two, set the kettle to boil, and took the glass of water to the bathroom. Hopefully, a shower would sort me out.
I nearly screeched when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. Black mascara lined the underneath of my eyes. Red lipstick stained not only my lips but also the skin around them. My hair was a tangled mess. I was still dressed in the previous night’s clothing that were crumpled and creased.
I stripped and stepped into the shower. I soaped myself, head to toe, and washed away the previous night’s excess. As I stood and selected what to wear, I gave myself a mental slap on the arse. I would not feel guilty about going out and getting drunk, nor would I feel apologetic for sending daft text messages.
****
“Good morning, Jenny,” I said, as I passed her desk.
She wore dark glasses. “You’re chirpy this morning,” she sai
d.
“Lightweight,” I teased, as I continued to walk to my office.
I switched my phone to silent and placed it in a drawer, I didn’t want to be tempted to check it.
I got on with my work, surprising myself that I wasn’t that far behind from taking a weekend off. Maybe I wasn’t as overloaded with work as I’d made myself believe.
I’d worked through lunch and it was late afternoon that my stomach started to protest.
“I’m just popping to the sandwich shop, do you want anything?” I asked Jenny as I passed.
“No, I’ve eaten.”
The sandwich shop was next to our office block, it wasn’t somewhere I visited regularly, but it was close enough to grab a quick bite to eat. When I returned Jenny beckoned me over.
“You have a visitor,” she whispered.
I looked towards my office, the door was shut and the vertical blinds covering the glass wall were obscuring any view in.
“Who?”
“Mr. Miller,” she said, then raised her eyebrows. “And your meeting today was cancelled.”
“What does he want?”
“Coffee, for two, and a packet of Advil.”
“Maybe he has a headache. Best not keep him waiting,” I said.
My stomach churned as I placed my hand on the door handle, and I took a deep breath in as I opened the door. He was standing with his back to me, looking out over the London skyline.
“Lock the door, Lauren,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He slowly turned. “Lock the door, a simple request.”
“No. This is my office.”
He strode towards me. “Then take the risk of your assistant walking in and seeing me make you come.”
My jaw fell open. “What the…?”
I hadn’t finished my sentence before his mouth was on mine, and I was pinned to the door. I fumbled around me and found the lock, not that I wanted to obey his command, but because I would have been fucking mortified had she walked in.
His hands dragged my skirt to my waist. I grabbed them to stop their ascent. He kept his hands where I’d stopped them but didn’t release my skirt. He pulled his mouth away slightly and before I could shout at him, he spoke.
The Facilitator Page 8