by Harper Bliss
I’ve eaten two slices of pizza and am staring out into the night. We’ve almost finished the bottle of champagne. “What is important to you at this stage of your life?” I ask.
“I just want to do things that make a difference and that make me happy. Not everything I do has to meet both criteria. I’m not that unrealistic. But that’s another reason I came back. Being an academic wasn’t making me very happy anymore. I was feeling more and more constricted. That’s why Sheryl can nag me all she wants, but I won’t be taking a position at the University of Sydney. I want to write instead, and talk about what I’ve learned.” She puts her glass down. “And do I think it’s fair that just because my old mug was allowed on television on a regular basis I can afford to choose what to do these days?” She shakes her head. “TV is definitely an overvalued and overpaid medium, but it is effective in getting certain points across.” She looks at me. “Am I babbling?”
“No.” I think every single word she says is interesting. “Go on.”
“The fact is that I will take the job at ANBC just so I can afford to do other things that are more important to me. Like this book we’ll be talking about soon.” She shoots me a smile.
I’ve had too much champagne to experience stress in response to the look she just sent me. She stretches out her arm. I do the same with mine and interlace our fingers.
“I’d like to ask if you want to stay the night. It doesn’t mean we can’t take it slow. We don’t have to go any further than some kissing”—a chuckle—“and perhaps some heavy petting. You set the boundaries.”
“I have all my stuff in the car.”
Caitlin laughs. “Does that mean yes?”
“As long as you won’t keep me from going for a run before I start work tomorrow morning.” Her hand feels soft in mine.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Then I don’t see why not.” A slew of butterflies takes flight in my stomach.
“I’m glad.”
“Have you always lived alone?” I ask, suddenly curious.
“Mostly yes, but not always.” She gently scratches my palm with a fingernail. “Have you ever lived alone? Or always with friends?”
“I could never afford to live on my own. I like having someone around. What Eva and I have going is good, although I suspect that might change soon. She and Declan have been together for a while. Much longer than Micky and Robin, for instance, and they’re already moving in together.”
“You think your roommate is going to desert you?”
“It would only be natural for her and her boyfriend to move in together.”
“Then you’ll have to find another roomie.”
“I know.” Caitlin’s fingernails are distracting me. “She’s also my best friend. I would miss having her around so much.”
“Declan could move in with you two? Isn’t he there already most of the time?”
“You’ve seen our flat. It does not have space for a bloke.”
“Fair enough.” She tugs at my hand. “Do you want to go inside?”
I know very well what that means.
“Sure.” At least it will keep me from worrying about my living situation for a while. Either way, our lease isn’t up until the end of the term.
“Come on,” Caitlin says.
We’ve moved from the balcony to the sofa to Caitlin’s bedroom pretty swiftly. She’s all over me again and not giving any indication of stopping what we’re doing any time soon.
At least we’re still fully clothed, lying on top of the covers. And I feel the fire burning inside of me, just as I did last time I was here, but not that much has changed since then.
Caitlin must feel my hesitance because she pauses to scan my face. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks.
“Of course.” Her hair is all over the place and her lipstick is smudged but not in a comical way. Caitlin always looks sexy to me.
“Do you masturbate?”
My eyes go wide.
“I’m asking for a reason.” Her finger skates along the bare skin of my upper arm.
“I do.”
“So you have the physical ability to reach orgasm.”
It doesn’t sound like a question, but I nod anyway.
“Will you show me?” she asks, her finger dipping down to my collarbone, tracing a line there.
“Show you? How I masturbate?” Something coils in my stomach.
“I’ll help you,” she says.
“I—I’m not sure if I can.” The top button of her blouse has already come undone.
“How about I show you first? You watch while I get myself off. Does that sound like a fair trade?”
“In theory, it sounds perfectly plausible, but as I said, I’m not sure I can.”
“Don’t question whether you can or can’t. Just watch me. Okay?” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.
“It’s worth a try.” Definitely if I get to see her touch herself first.
“All right.” She shuffles close again. “I’m pretty hot and bothered already.” Her lips draw into a smile before she kisses me again.
When our tongues meet, most of my nerves are pushed down by the sheer excitement of being allowed to watch her, no matter the tradeoff afterwards.
We undress each other until I’m in my underwear and Caitlin is completely naked. “Ready for the show?” she asks, the huskiness in her voice a clear indicator that she’s thoroughly enjoying this.
I nod. “Where do you want me?”
“I want you to watch me. All of me.”
I crawl to the end of the bed, feeling very much like the voyeur she has made of me. A pulse picks up speed between my legs. This might be the most arousing sight I’ve ever laid eyes on. Caitlin spreads her legs wide for me to see it all. She’s making a show of it. Running her fingers along her chest, back up again, circling her nipples.
Her head is propped up on a pillow and she makes eye contact, but my gaze is drawn elsewhere. Who knew this could be so thrilling?
She brings both her hands between her wide-spread legs. One rests on her inner thigh, the index finger of the other skates along her pussy lips. She repeats the motion a few times and as much as I wish it was my tongue following the length of her lips, I’m enjoying this show very much. So much so, that I feel an animal impulse to plunge my hand into my panties and go on this journey with her. I resist, for now.
Caitlin dips her fingertip between her lips and only then can I see how wet she is. Her finger comes away coated in juice. With her other hand she spreads her lips while her wet finger starts circling her clit. She gives a little moan and I have to look at her face. She’s still looking at me from under hooded lids. I can see she’s totally lost in the moment. That she was easily able to achieve complete surrender again.
Then I can’t stop myself anymore. I don’t plunge my hand all the way into my panties, instead I draw a circle over the fabric, trying to soothe my own throbbing clit, the same way she is doing.
Caitlin must see me doing this. She intensifies the speed of her finger, stimulating her clit, baring herself to me completely. As I sit there, I realize that making someone come and watching them do it to themselves are two entirely different things. This time around, I get to see every change in her face, I get to see her muscles flex as she inches closer. I get to see it all.
When she comes, her head thrown back and her toes all curled up, I’m ready to tear off my underwear and throw myself onto her.
“That was so hot,” I whisper in her ear, no longer able to stay away from her warm body.
“Yeah?” She turns onto her side and brings her finger to my lips. I can smell her and it arouses me even more. I take her hand and suck the juices off her finger the way she did with mine last week. “I saw you touching yourself.” Her voice is still just a whisper. “It was quite helpful.” She snickers.
I don’t say anything, just suck her finger deep into my mouth. I’m so aroused, but I know it’s not my level of arousal th
at’s the problem. It’s letting go in front of someone else. Getting over myself, and what I believe my body makes other people feel, and just do it. The way I do when it’s just me in my room.
“My turn,” I say, after letting go of her finger.
“Do you want me to do anything?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“But it’s okay if I watch? The way you did?”
“Yes.” Just saying the word carries its own excitement. I’m not sure how this is going to go, but I have to try. I want to.
“Let me help you with these.” She unclasps my bra. Kisses me on the lips for a long time, before hooking her thumbs under the waistband of my drenched panties.
Then, there I lie. Caitlin shuffles back onto the bed. She has a soft smile on her face, but I think it better not to focus too much on her face, no matter how gorgeous it is. This isn’t about Caitlin. This is about me overcoming something. Why have I never thought of this before with my previous girlfriends? I was probably too mortified to even consider it.
I spread my legs and close my eyes. I pretend I’m in my room but it’s as if I can feel Caitlin’s gaze on me. It strangely spurs me on. I conjure up images from minutes ago. Caitlin doing to her body what I’m doing to mine now. It makes me feel like it’s her hands on my body, yet I know, in the back of my brain, like a sort of safety net, that they are mine. This is me. Only me. She’s watching but that’s it. I’m in charge. In control.
I think of her head falling back when she came. And how she smiled at me so sweetly. How she now has the habit of slipping to the side of the counter at the Pink Bean and sneaking me a kiss. And how it was Caitlin’s gentle insistence that got me here, circling my clit before her very eyes. I’m sufficiently warmed up. If it was just me, I probably would have sealed the deal already. But I’m in Caitlin’s penthouse, in her swanky bed, my hands busy between my legs.
The situation isn’t entirely different but enough for me to get out of my head. No one else is doing this to me, is demanding something of me that I can’t give. For a brief moment, as my finger keeps touching my clit in the exact way I know will get me off, I consider opening my eyes and re-confirming my surroundings, but I don’t. I fear it may be a step too far and why ruin it now, when I’ve already come this far?
Of course, I know that Caitlin is watching, that her eyes are all over this body of mine, but what was it that she said last time? We are all responsible for our own orgasms. If that’s the case, and I believe it is, I’m taking responsibility tonight.
Yes, this is the same body as last week, but it’s also the same body she was all over earlier. It’s the body attached to the person, the me she has shown such kindness to. It’s my body and perhaps I will never be able to be proud of it, but I know what it can do. It can have an orgasm right about now.
I screw my eyes a little tighter, block out everything else and, in a moment of extreme irony, think of Caitlin spreading her legs, while she’s sitting right next to me, just to push me over the edge. Because I’m touching myself, and I’m me, the image in my head has more power than the actual person on the bed with me.
Her smile. Her lips. Her hands. Her fingers. Her naked body. Her wide-spread legs. They are a montage in my mind, on repeat, flickering from one image to the other, until they blend into a crash of white as warmth spreads to my muscles and my pussy contracts around nothing. As the last spasm rips through me, I open my eyes. Caitlin’s gaze on me is intense, unmistakable.
“Christ,” she mutters, and crawls up, throwing an arm around me. “I think I’m ready to go again,” she whispers in my ear. “You looked so incredibly sexy.”
“I must have made a silly orgasm face,” I joke.
“No.” I can feel her shaking her head against my cheek. “There was absolutely nothing silly about that.”
An unfamiliar lightness settles within me. I just had my very first orgasm with another person in the room. Things are looking up. I turn on my side to better look her in the wide, brown eyes.
“Thank you for suggesting this.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” She leans in to kiss me. “It’s a big deal.”
I sink into her embrace, a new-found sense of contentment swirling through me. And this is only the beginning of this journey we’re on, I think, as our bodies come together, her breasts pressing into mine. I can’t wait for what’s next.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Don’t you have to go for a run?” Caitlin asks. I’ve just woken up and I couldn’t feel more different this morning than when I last woke up in her bed.
“Yes.” I snuggle up to her, putting my head on her shoulder.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She pulls me closer, her hand pressing against my back.
“It’s hard to say.” I press a kiss to the warm spot of skin my mouth is closest to. Waking up like this feels like a dream. “What time is it?”
“6:48 to be exact.”
“I don’t have to commute so I have some time.”
“Are you the same person as last night? The one who claimed to have brought her running shoes and who should, under no circumstances, be kept from her daily run?”
“I usually don’t wake up with the esteemed Professor James in my bed.” I throw a leg over hers. “Kind of makes me feel like I’m chained to it.”
“You’re calling me your ball and chain already?” Caitlin kisses me on the crown of my head.
“I don’t know how else to explain it. Even if the place were on fire, I’m still not sure I could tear myself away from you to bring myself to safety.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic.” Caitlin slips from under me and turns on her side. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log. You?” I kiss her on the nose, before starting to push myself up.
She nods.
“I need to call my sister in five minutes. If only you were more famous and she knew who you were, I could put us on speaker to impress her.”
“I’m so very sorry about that.” She grins.
“I need to find my phone first.” Calling Bea is such an ingrained part of my routine, I always keep my phone next to my bed. But nothing is normal this morning.
“Here’s an idea.” Caitlin pulls me to her again. “After your call, join me in the shower. I’ll be waiting. All soaped up.”
“Best get it done then.” I fling the covers off and, not bothering to wrap myself in a sheet this time, tip-toe to the bathroom.
Caitlin is soaping my back in the most distracting manner. “Do you sing in the shower?” she asks.
“Sometimes.” I hold my head away from the spray of water to hear her better.
“What’s in your shower repertoire?”
I turn around, our bodies skimming against each other. “What’s in yours?” I counter.
“I quite like some Lionel Richie to get me going in the morning. Some ‘Dancing on the Ceiling’. That kind of thing.”
“Are you going to give me a taste?”
She raises her eyebrows. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of performance.”
“I’ve seen you read poetry. That was foreplay enough.”
“You asked for it.” Her foamy hands slither up my arms. She clears her throat and grabs me by the shoulders, takes a deep breath. After she has sung one line at the top of her lungs, I have to pull my head as far away as possible from this source of aural terror.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” I shout over her. “That can’t really be anyone’s singing voice.”
She keeps holding me by the arms. “You asked for it. Now you’re going to enjoy it.” She sings some more and it sounds even worse than before, like a hundred kittens crying in the back of her throat.
“That was a truly horrendous experience,” I say when she finishes.
“You still want to go out with me?” She stands there all wet and giggly.
“I’m not sure. This has kind of burst my Caitlin James bubble,” I joke.
> “You show me how it’s done then.” She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.
“This is how you trick me into singing for you?”
“You have no choice. You have to cleanse the air by singing another song. The ghost of my horrific singing will linger in this shower forever if you don’t. You must chase it away.” She splashes some water in my direction. “See, it’s already starting to act up. Do something.” She presses me against the wall. “It’s coming for you first.”
Caitlin is irresistible. I’d sing for her out of pure joy alone. “Okay.” I take a breath and launch into “I Will Always Love You”, the Whitney Houston version.
Caitlin takes a step back and clasps a hand to her mouth.
I finish after the first chorus, having belted it out much more than I usually would.
“Either the water’s getting cold or you just gave me goosebumps,” Caitlin says.
“Has the ghost fled?”
“What?” She gives me a funny look.
“The ghost of your dreadful singing?”
“He will never set foot in this place again.” She pushes me back against the wall. Her lips find my ear. “You could really seduce a girl with that voice.” She kisses my neck. Her wet body slides against mine.
She has made me come and she has made me sing for her. I wonder what will be next.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Where’s Declan?” I ask when I come home in the evening and find just Eva on the sofa—a very unusual sight for a Friday night.
“He’s out with his mates.”
I quirk up my eyebrows. “You mean he’s playing Dungeons and Dragons at Derek’s?”
“Probably,” she says with a snicker. “And I’m in need of a Caitlin James update.”