How You Touch Me

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How You Touch Me Page 4

by Natalie Kristen


  As I arch my back, I become aware of a mounting pressure on my nipples. A sharp pain shoots through my body and my eyes fly open. I see glinting metal clamps gripping both my nipples tightly, tugging and squeezing them. The clamps relax suddenly, releasing me from their vice-like grip. I gasp and pant, but before I can catch my breath, the metal arms move and the clamps close in again. The clamps squeeze and twist my nipples from side to side, and as I cry out, they relax their grip. I watch the metal arms move with wide open eyes, and observe their pattern. The clamps tighten on my nipples and release them in turn, giving me pain and pleasure, pleasure from pain. Without realizing it, I start clenching my muscles and the walls of my vagina in time to the pressure on my nipples. When the clamps tighten, my body tightens as well. The rhythm starts to build, and with the pulsating wetness between my legs, my whole body starts to buck and writhe.

  I summon what is left of my strength to raise my head and look down the length of my body. My widely spread thighs are quivering as a warm jet of water finds my clit and pulses it insistently. I moan in pleasure and draw my knees up, exposing as much of my pussy as I can. My need is roaring through my body, and I can't wait any longer. I want to come, hard and fast. I want to shudder and scream in ecstasy. As if the machine—or is it Julian, has read my mind, the nozzle starts lowering and the arc of water sways to stroke across my folds. At my nub, it moves in tight circles, attacking me frenziedly until I am so swollen and hard. I writhe and pant as I crest closer and closer towards the edge. I can feel the flickering flames of my orgasm lick at me, teasing and testing me. The clamps tweak my nipples hard and I tense and scream. The contraction of my muscles sends sparks of pleasure shooting through my body. I tense even more, clenching rhythmically, uncontrollably and violently. The climax comes and I lose all capacity for thought. I am unaware of everything except my raw, pulsating pleasure. My world explodes into a soundless, blinding, scorching scream, as I come again and again in succession. The water shoots into my opening, my anus, drenching and slapping against my pussy. The water pressure continues stimulating my engorged clit, sending waves of screaming pleasure through every nerve. I climax repeatedly, spasms wrecking my entire body. In the helpless throes of my ecstasy, my back aches and I raise my hips. My body slams back onto the metal surface of the table when the blinding heat finally drains from my senses. I lie on my back, listening to my heavy, ragged breathing for an eternity before I crack my eyes open.

  Julian is standing over me, gripping the sides of the table with shaking hands. I release a long, shuddering sigh and manage a smile. “What did you just do to me, Julian?” I say, my eyes half closed.

  He works my wrists free of the cuffs and lifts me from the table. I lie limply in his arms, all the strength drained from me. I can hardly think straight. More accurately, I can hardly think at all.

  My insides are still throbbing and tensing painfully at the intensity of my orgasms. I try to raise my arms to Julian's neck, but my whole body feels like jelly.

  “Your heart rate just went through the roof,” Julian mutters, a muscle working violently in his jaw. “And your breathing—you might have ruptured your lungs if you kept it up! Damn, damn!” I feel his nails digging into my skin. He looks furious. “Why can't I override that damn command and stop...” He closes his eyes as if in pain. “Damn!”

  “What...are you so upset about?” I hiccup and frown. I feel almost drunk on pleasure. Giddy and delirious, weak and exhausted. “Are you angry?” I trace a finger down the crease between his brows and pout. “Are you angry with me?”

  Julian grits his teeth. “No, Sophia, I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't have allowed this to happen.”

  “What?”

  “I'd wanted to measure the intensity of your orgasm and the changes in your body when you were directly touched. I forgot to take into account your arousal...it's my fault. I shouldn't have touched you in the pool. I don't know what came over me. I just...I just can't resist you, Sophia. It's getting so hard and so painful. Seeing you, being so near you, but not touching you...it's damn near killing me.”

  “It's killing me too,” I breathe.

  “That is what I nearly did! I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you, Sophia,” he says, his face contorted in pain.

  My senses are still swirling from the forceful, repeated climaxes that my body had just experienced. “You didn't hurt me,” I laugh a strange high-pitched laugh, which startles me. God, I don't even sound like myself anymore. “You. Made. Me. Come.” I poke his chest with my forefinger. “You, Dr. Julian James, made me come so good. So. Fucking. Good!” I throw my head back and gasp. I seem to be on a high, a high that was just pulling me out of this world. I feel like I am floating higher and higher.

  “Sophia!” Julian shakes me urgently. There is a note of fear in his voice. “Sophia! Look at me! Come on, look at me, Sophia!”

  I force my head up and blink furiously. His voice sounds like it is coming to me from across a vast distance. Julian puts me down and rushes to one of the monitors at the side of the machine. He notes the readings and immediately begins pummeling a few buttons in rapid succession. I struggle to sit up and Julian is at my side in an instant. I can feel myself shivering uncontrollably as I curl against him.

  “Can I...can I go now?” I stammer. My feet fail to find the floor and I still feel as though I am floating.

  “Just a while more,” he mutters. “I have to be sure your blood pressure and heart rate return to normal. They were skyrocketing to dangerous levels, but they're going down now. I just have to monitor you a while more.” He rubs his hand down my arm. “Are you cold?”

  I shake my head.

  He glances at the monitor one last time, and slips his arms under my body. He swallows repeatedly as he carries me to my bedroom.

  Gently, he puts me down on the bed and draws the covers up over my naked body. He sits on the edge of the bed and holds my hand. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I'm so sorry, Sophia.”

  “I'm fine,” I smile. “Everything is fine.”

  “No. It's not fine. You could have suffered a seizure, or a heart attack. It was too intense. You could have been seriously hurt. I just...” The expression on his face changes as his thoughts take a sudden turn. “You...you were so, so perfect, the readings proved what I have been researching...” he says fervently. He rakes both hands through his hair. “But...”

  I press my fingers to his lips. “Shhh. Everything is all right. I feel fine, just...tired. Incredibly tired,” I sigh.

  “Yes, yes, right. You should rest. I'll just...” Awkwardly, he gets up to go, but I stop him. My fingers close lightly around his wrist, and I pull him back towards me. “Julian. Don't go.”

  He gazes intently down at me, his eyes dark and tortured.

  “Please, stay with me. Hold my hand till I fall asleep.”

  Julian envelops my hand in his large ones so tenderly. He settles down by my side and caresses my face. “Of course,” he says quietly. “Rest now, Sophia. Try to sleep a little.”

  I breathe deeply and close my eyes, feeling his fingers stroke my bare arm. He smooths the hair away from my face and traces the tip of his finger down my cheek and jaw. After a long while, when he thinks that I am finally asleep, he gets up and tucks my arm under the blanket. I feel his lips press against my forehead and he whispers, “I love you.”

  Only when I hear him walk away and the door close softly behind him do I open my eyes and gasp. What did he just say? Did he just say what I thought he said? Did he just tell me that he loves me? Or did I imagine that? Am I still awake or am I already dreaming?

  I stare at the ceiling, trying to breathe, trying to think. In all these years after the tragedy, there was only one thing that Julian allowed himself to love. His work. His overflowing, messy office is testament to that. He lives and feels alive only in his office and his laboratory with his machine and his files and computers. The rest of the house, even though kept in pristine and perfect order by Mrs Kenny, ha
s been largely untouched and unlived in. I play his words over and over in my mind. Maybe he said those words out of gratitude or guilt. Maybe he was thinking of his work, his research, when he said it. I did hear him mumble that the results of the experiment vindicated his theories and his research. It is his work that he loves. Not me. I am just a tiny, insignificant part of his world. I'm sure he has examined and touched many female bodies in his line of work. I'm just another body, a nameless, faceless specimen. I shake my head and toss on my side.

  To spare my own feelings, I decide that I must have imagined it. Yes, that's it, those three sweet words are just figments of my own fevered imagination. The multiple shattering orgasms that I just had must have seriously messed with my senses. As Julian said, my pulse and breathing had climbed to uncontrollable, unbelievable levels. Too much blood and oxygen in my brain. It's no wonder my head just floated away into the clouds. Head in the clouds, castles in the air. I should just forget about it, forget that he ever said those three precious words to me when he thought that I was asleep. It's for the best.

  Exhaling a long breath, I empty myself of all thought and emotion and just plunge into a deep, drowning sleep.

  Chapter Five

  I have lost track of time, but the evening sunlight makes the pool water glow orange and red, like the water is on fire. I kick off the wall strongly and swim my twentieth lap. The exercise feels good. My arms and legs propel me powerfully through the water, and my whole body feels warm from the exertion. I finish the lap and lean against the edge of the pool, surveying the back of the house. Julian is in his office, and Mrs Kenny is probably in the kitchen, preparing dinner before she leaves for the evening. Creating waves by sweeping my arms in big arcs around me, I frown and glance towards the house again. Julian has not asked me to test the sex machine for days and days now. I'm not sure, but it feels like my last session with the machine was more than a week ago, maybe two. I should ask Julian, but he has just been so distant lately.

  I blow out a harsh breath, which creates a furrow on the water surface. What is wrong? Julian has been polite and civil towards me, but there has been a perceptible shift in his attitude and demeanor. He still has his meals with me, and goes for walks and occasionally swims with me, but he seems to be keeping a careful distance from me. Even his conversation and jokes are stilted and restrained. And he seems to retreat into his office much more, holing himself in the room for hours at a time. It's like he is putting a barrier between us, withdrawing from me and building a wall around himself.

  Frowning deeply, I try to count the days on my fingers. Two weeks is almost up, and the stipulated three week contractual period will be over very soon. Yet for the past week or so, he hasn't asked me to do what I should be doing, what I am being paid to do. Is there something wrong with the machine...or with me?

  A niggling thought elbows its way to the forefront of my mind. What if...what if he doesn't intend to pay me? Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of money, and maybe Julian is having second thoughts about parting with this sum of money. Is he trying to renege on the contract? Will he turn around at the end of three weeks and accuse me of not fulfilling my end of the deal?

  My eyes narrow as a stab of cold anger and fear rises from my gut. Men—I've had enough of cheating men. They ply you with cheap gifts and honeyed lies and then rob you of everything. No, that's not fair. They didn't rob me. I allowed them to take everything from me—my love, my dignity, my savings. I have been a fool. But I will be a fool no more.

  I need the money, and I need it bad. I need it to pay my rent, which has been in arrears for too long and my landlord's patience is wearing thin. Dr. Julian James and I had a deal, a contract. And I intend to perform my obligations as specified in the contract, which is to test the sex machine for three weeks. I'll have to make sure that Julian fulfills his end of the bargain as well. I will give him no excuse not to pay me my due when the contract period is up.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a movement but when I look up, I only glimpse a shadow moving away from the sliding glass door. I squint against the sunlight reflecting off the glass and splash my way nearer to the house. The dark figure looks tall, much too tall to be Mrs Kenny. Has Julian been watching me swim? Has he been watching me all along? Why didn't he just come out and join me in the pool, or at least talk to me?

  Hurriedly, I drag myself out of the water and towel off. I march up to my room and shower and dress quickly. This artificial, awkward silence has gone on long enough. At dinner tonight, I intend to ask Julian point blank what exactly is going on and what he has in mind for me. Is he intending to cheat me of my contract sum? Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I've been cheated too many times. I have had enough of cheating men.

  Mrs Kenny is just leaving when I come storming down the stairs. I skid to a halt and my lips twitch to try to return her smile. She pulls on her coat and says warmly, “There's roast chicken and mash potatoes today. And a lovely, fresh salad. I think you'll enjoy tonight's dinner.”

  “Oh, I...thank you very much, Mrs Kenny,” I gush, highly embarrassed. “I...I should have helped. It must have been a lot of work...”

  “No, no, it was no trouble at all.” She waves a hand in the air, and glances towards the closed double doors of Julian's office. “He should eat more. He seems troubled. He seems to have a lot on his mind. There is a lot that he's been neglecting recently,” she says, giving me a wistful, meaningful smile. “Important things. I don't want to see him lose something so precious again. He should love and cherish, and not push away, something...someone that should be his...”

  I swallow and look down. To avoid meeting Mrs Kenny's incisive, inquiring gaze, I force my eyes to Julian's office door.

  “Talk to him, dear,” Mrs Kenny urges gently, as if sensing my doubt. “He is just waiting to open up to you. But he's afraid.”

  Afraid? Why? What is he...?

  Before I can turn to ask, Mrs Kenny has exited the house and closed the front door softly behind her. I listen to her drive her little car down the long driveway and out the gates. The tall automatic gates clang shut, leaving me in the house alone with Julian. I walk tentatively towards Julian's office. The smell of food from the kitchen is inviting and homely but the silence in the house is deafening.

  What is he afraid of?

  What am I afraid of?

  Well, one of us has to be less afraid than the other.

  Resolutely, I quicken my stride and march right up to his office. I suck in a deep breath and rap smartly on the door. “Julian.” I clear my throat. “Will you be joining me for dinner?”

  The door flies open immediately. “Sophia.” His eyes drink me in deeply, as though he were a man dying of thirst. He stands there, gripping the door, just looking at me, as if he is afraid to believe that I am real and I am really standing before him.

  “I...I came to ask you to dinner.” My attempt to sound cheery falls flat on its face.

  “Ah...yes. How can I refuse a pretty lady's invitation to dinner?” Julian pulls the door close and his hand reaches out to take mine. But at the last instant, he closes his fingers lightly around my elbow.

  “How are you?” he asks softly.

  “I...I'm good. And you?”

  “I miss you.”

  I gape at him. You do? But you've been so distant!

  He sees the look on my face and opens his mouth. His throat works furiously but fails to dislodge the words that seem stuck at the back of his throat. Finally, he swallows and sighs, “Dinner smells good. Let's not keep the food waiting. I'm sure you're hungry after your swim.”

  So he was watching me swim. I wonder how long he has been watching me.

  We sit opposite each other at the dining table and eat in silence. The food is great, and I spoon more mashed potatoes and salad onto my plate. I am indeed ravenous. I tuck in heartily and am almost halfway through my third helping of roast chicken when my eyes flick up at Julian. He is watching me with a smile on his face.

  I
straighten up immediately and carve a drumstick for him. Putting it on his plate, I start to talk rapidly. “Mrs Kenny says you should eat more. You know, keep your strength up, and not let your troubles and your stress eat you up. What is eating you anyway, Julian? You no longer want me for the sex machine; you coop yourself up in your office most of the time; when you see me you're just so civil and cordial; you haven't spoken to me about the work that I've been contracted to do for the past week...why? Why, Julian?” I demand. “Is it because of how my body responded at the last session? The repeated orgasms were intense, yes, but I won't break, you know. I don't break that easily, and I think the spike in my blood pressure and breathing and everything was natural. I mean, isn't that how the body would react during an orgasm? You're the doctor, you tell me. What are you so troubled about? What are you afraid of, Julian?”

  Julian stares at me and slowly puts down his fork. “You're right. In fact, you are right about a lot of things,” he says at last. Breathing deeply, he continues, “I'm afraid of hurting you, Sophia. I am afraid, but I know that you are afraid too. Yet, you face your fears and try your best to be strong and brave. I see that, Sophia. I can see that. You are smart and brave, and sweet and vulnerable. I don't want to lose you, or hurt you. I almost did. I can't afford to...” He swallows painfully and doesn't say the words that are at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he bites them down and drops his hands.

  Julian looks away momentarily, his expression solemn. When he speaks again, there is a slight quaver in his voice. “I think you're probably curious as to why I am so concerned and worried, and yet so amazed, at the results of that last session. Your reaction at the last session was...just amazing. The intensity of your orgasms does prove how much pleasure a woman is capable of achieving when highly stimulated. It has helped my research tremendously. But I am afraid that...if your heart rate climbed to such levels again, it might be dangerous. I don't know how much more your body can take. Yet...the next stage of the experiment involves...” He takes a shuddering breath.

 

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