“Still working on the patience issue, I see,” she says and laughs. “Let’s finish up here. Time for workout.”
“There I thought we already did that…”
I feel better and I feel worse.
We spend part of the afternoon in bed where I once again prove my skills. I think I made her scream a little, but that might be wishful thinking on my part. It seems like my senses are heightened, tormenting me, so maybe I exaggerated her reaction. She looks satisfied and a bit tired when we take dinner in the living room, in PJs. The soft fabric excites me every time I move. And it’s only Monday.
The next day goes by in a similar fashion, but finally, on Wednesday, I’m allowed some props. I use the oval vibrating object with a generous amount of cherry-flavored lubricant.
The lessons of the past few days come to mind, my own struggle to control my body, honing my perception to grant her the most pleasure possible. Elizabeth lies back against the pillow, her legs open, giving me all the access I need. I try different settings, noting her reaction to each of them, to every move I make. She whimpers. I sympathize—the sound alone is enough to push me towards that invisible brink.
It’s not about me. At this moment, it is all about her, regardless of where she or I might be a few weeks from now. I massage her with the vibrator, careful to use the perfect amount of pressure, until she comes.
“You remember your lessons,” she says, her tone breathless as it should be.
“I do. And you’re the perfect teacher.”
I know the sensations are still reverberating in her body, causing a delightful echo. Building on that, I let her feel my tongue again, teasing her, owning her once more. She’s writhing underneath me, and I’m drunk with power, making the most of each second. I can do this, step away from my own needs and focus completely on her…I’ll be paid some good money for that skill, at some point as a favorite. Right now, I realize, it has nothing to do with the prospect of money, and everything with this insane lust I feel for her. Its ferocity is taking me by surprise.
Yes, I thought she was attractive when she opened the door to me. I got frustrated with the first week rules. Now, I’m enjoying myself, and I’m not even thinking about next week when she’ll return the favor. If I did, something inside me would be unleashed, something I can’t let happen yet.
With a sated sigh, Elizabeth leans back into the pillows, the ultimate picture of deep relaxation, the kind you can only get from the perfect orgasm. I am practically glowing with pride.
“So, how was that?” I ask. I know the answer already, but a little flattery never harms.
“There’s always room for improvement,” she says, laughing when I throw a pillow at her. Unexpectedly, she pulls me back down, hand fisting in my hair as she kisses me deeply, waking my own raging need once more. For a split-second, I think, hope, pray she’ll skip to week three, but I’m not that lucky.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get something to eat.”
We have dinner on the balcony. The moon is rising on the horizon, setting a romantic, melancholy mood. I don’t have to wonder why I do this, getting a higher education in how to please a woman. There’s safe fun and financial security in my future, and who in their right mind would say no to that?
“How many women have you mentored before?” I ask. In the beginning, I was occupied with the moment when I would be allowed relief, and what life with the woman in charge would be like. The past few days, my focus has shifted to Elizabeth, even though she’ll only be a temporary companion.
“Eleven,” she says without hesitation, and my jaw drops.
“Eleven?”
“That’s what I said, yes,” she confirmed, looking amused.
I ponder that for a moment. Elizabeth clarifies, “You have to understand that we try to make it as transparent as possible, but still not everyone finishes the program. Four of them left after the first two weeks.”
“Why?” I ask, intrigued.
“They reconsider. Casual sex is one thing, but being here is not like hooking up in a bar and having a one-night-stand. It’s not supposed to be a romance either, and some couldn’t find the middle ground.”
“Can you? Always find the middle ground?”
“I have a lot to be grateful for. I get to guide women on their path, and either way, they learn something important about themselves. I respect each of them. I’ve never fallen in love if that’s what you wanted to know.”
Yes, perhaps that’s what I wanted to know. We sit in relative silence, with the sound of the waves in the distance.
“I bet it wasn’t a career counselor who made you aware of this job.”
“I’ve known Addison for a long time. She started this project when I was in a pretty bad place—morally, not financially—and she asked me to come on board.” Elizabeth holds my gaze, and I listen, spell-bound. “I was a teacher for adults, and then a therapist. Whatever achievements I made, it seemed like there was always bureaucracy in the way.”
“So you gave sexual healing a try?”
“My work here is only a part of it. I actually make enough money to invest in places where I was employed before. Meanwhile, yes, I try to do the best for each woman that comes here. Teaching her that pleasure counts.”
“Here I thought this was all about lounging by the pool and eating grapes,” I joke.
“Oh, you’ll be able to have all the grapes you want, no problem.”
I’m distracted by the revelations she just made. I had a hard time imagining what she had done before this. Elizabeth seems happy and serene, running this house, taking care of me.
Teaching women to make her climax in preparation for Addison. Teaching them to receive pleasure.
“Don’t you ever feel lonely?”
“Not really,” she says without hesitation. “I’m busy. I haven’t been alone much for the past couple of years.”
“Whatever happens from here, I’m glad I met you.” Where did that come from? The wine, the moonlight?
Elizabeth smiles. “Me too.”
I turn in early that night, tired but a lot less restless than I’ve been in some time, ever since I knocked on the door, to be honest. I slip into a deep sleep, the sound of the waves still on my mind even though I can’t hear them now. My dreams are vague, but warm, and sensual, and Elizabeth stars in each of them.
I know that my relationship with her, and the one I’m going to have with Addison, is not exactly on equal footing, but for a while, for a week or two, I’ll be able to pretend. Why this matters, I’m not sure, but I look forward to it, body and mind.
* * * *
Sunday morning, before breakfast, I take a look at the riches in the closet once more. Elizabeth enjoyed everything I did to her with my fingers and tongue, and she directed me to do it even better than I imagined I could.
Starting tomorrow, things will be different. I take in the various toys, some with a vibrating function, others to use with a harness. Just looking at them, imagining which ones she might want to use on me, makes the muscles at my core tighten. There are lubricants in different flavors. I already tried and tasted cherry on her, the memory sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
There are padded cuffs and silk ties. The structure of the program tells me a lot about Addison’s preferences. Elizabeth said they match hers, at least when it comes to the toys. I wonder if she likes to be blindfolded or tied down, and doesn’t mention it when preparing women for the life by Addison’s side. Either way, I said yes to both in the paperwork.
It’s a sunny day, the dining room bright when we have breakfast. Elizabeth doesn’t talk much, pensive all morning. It soon becomes clear that we’re back to the tormenting. When we do the guided imagery, she sits close, her hands brushing over my breasts, nipples tightening, the chain reaction inevitable. Tomorrow. That’s all I can think.
I spend some time in the afternoon reading, but I have trouble concentrating, focusing my mind on something other than the question of
what will happen on Monday. Or, to be more precise, what will happen first. A few laps in the pool help some with the nervous energy. After washing off the chlorine in the shower, I lie on my bed for a few minutes, on the verge of falling asleep before dinner. Not a good idea—I’ll be up all night.
I flinch when I hear the door open, and Elizabeth walks inside. My eyes are still closed, but the scent of her perfume is unmistakable, and really, who else would it be?
She draws the sheet aside, revealing my naked body. A body made for pleasure. I’m proud of…
“Wait.” My eyes snap open when she draws a single finger down my chest and stomach. “It’s still Sunday.”
“It’s Monday somewhere,” Elizabeth whispers, brushing my clit gently. “You’ve been patient. You deserve a reward.”
“I am not going to argue with you.”
Her fingers are wet, gliding over me with ease. I want them in me so badly, but of course, everything in this house is about timing.
“Good.”
I moan as I feel her tongue against my nipple, teasing, playing, while her fingertips find every sweet spot. Her warm skin against mine feels intoxicating. At this moment I know that whatever sexual magic Addison has to offer, I’ll never forget about Elizabeth. There are tears in my eyes when she finally opens me up to her probing fingers, pressing into me. I am completely in sync with her rhythm, my hips rising to meet her hand. I’ve never experienced pure joy like this, or so it seems.
I want this to go on forever, and she makes it feel like it does. Her mouth is on mine when my climax starts, but she moves to my neck, allowing for the scream to come out.
“You must be hungry,” she says, stroking my damp hair. “How about a small break, and then we continue?”
* * * *
The life of a harem girl—eating strawberry ice cream for dessert, naked, in bed. I haven’t done so badly for myself, have I?
Elizabeth regards me with an affectionate smile. “Am I forgiven for making you wait?”
I lick the spoon, unable to hold back the sigh. The pleasure comes just as much from the creamy richness of the ice cream as it does from the hot jolts deep inside of me, echoes of our earlier activities. It’s not over yet. This must be paradise.
“We’re getting there,” I say.
“Yeah, I guess I deserve that. When you’re done, I can give it another try.”
I take another spoonful. “Definitely.”
“You said yes to almost all of the toys. You have a lot of experience?”
That sounds almost a bit too business-like from the woman who made me scream twenty minutes ago. I ignore the notion and decide to go with the truth.
“Not a whole lot, but I’m willing to experiment more. I think I mentioned that somewhere.”
“Okay. Good. We’re still early in the process. There’s lots of time to try different things.”
Elizabeth gets to her feet, and I don’t take my eyes off her for a moment. Only now, I realize that she brought a bag with her, containing…I take a deep breath at the sight of the harness and dildo. It’s not that big, but there’s something about this setting…In one or two previous relationships, we played around with something vibrating, giggling all the way from the sex shop to the moment we actually tried it. I’ve never been particularly interested in a one-way-street, but as Elizabeth said, this is not about romance. I’ll be paid eventually.
A moment ago, I was enjoying a sweet treat, but watching her fastening the harness ignites another, deeper hunger. I should be adjusting, but it still catches me off guard.
“Relax,” she whispers. “We’ll go slow.”
I lie down, opening my legs slightly for her to fit herself in between. As she leans down to kiss me, the smooth object brushes against me, hell, yes, I’m ready to try new things.
The play of her fingers gets me in the mood in no time, and then she sits back to coat the toy with a gel, colorless and without scent that I can detect. She strokes my hips and inner thighs until I’m trembling in anticipation. For most of my adult life, I wasn’t sure what exactly an object like this can add to your sex life that fingers can’t. Another lesson to learn, I guess. I shiver as I feel the tip of the toy against me, invading me, and then gliding inside inch by inch.
“Oh.” Not the most eloquent reaction, but it’s all I have.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft and calming. My body is all but calm, enthusiastic and quivering with the gentle penetration. Okay isn’t quite the right word.
“It’s good,” I gasp.
When she’s deep enough inside for me to feel the soft leather of the harness, Elizabeth pauses, gauging my reaction. Every breath makes me clench around the object, reminding me of its presence. She pulls back slowly, and pushes back in. There’s an unexpected sensation building, even more heat from the gel.
Elizabeth leans forward, over me, and I draw a sharp breath when the slight change of angle registers.
“Yes. Please.” I’ll be able to entertain Addison with my knowledge on a variety of subjects, but not in bed, not if and when she does this to me.
Not if she does it as well as Elizabeth.
I push back, taking her deep inside, taking her in. Her hair is falling forward, her expression one of concentration. Even though the setting doesn’t provide much for her in terms of stimulation, I am certain that she is enjoying herself—because I’m whimpering, and moaning, and it’s all because of her. The orgasm comes with unfamiliar and amazing sensations, and it leaves me trembling.
“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth asks after she’s disposed of toy and harness.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Being able to have a frank conversation is part of the lesson.”
“Oh, sure. You’re going to take notes.”
“Later,” she says with a wry smile, “I have a good memory.”
“Okay, let’s see. Wow. I loved it.”
She waits, and I realize that was not specific enough. “Everything. The gel…that caught me off guard. In a good way. Anything else you want to know?”
“That’s fine for today.” This time, the kiss is chaste. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A part of me is disappointed when she leaves, but it’s nothing unexpected. After all, this is still business. Week three continues tomorrow. I better get some rest while I can.
* * * *
Oh God, this is so much better than workout and guided imagery. I’m on cloud infinity, flying high. At eight in the morning, Elizabeth has me on my hands and knees, her grip on my hips firm and unrelenting. The dildo is about the same size as the one she used yesterday, but slightly curved, finding different spots to brush against. I feel a drop of sweat snaking down my spine as I struggle to keep myself up.
I love everything she’s doing to me, and I tell her so in a breathless whisper.
“Never stop. Please, don’t stop.”
She keeps one hand on my hip, the other one cupping my breast and squeezing. Then her fingers are between my legs, massaging my clit while she still moves in and out of me, a bit slower now. I’m close to crying, from want, from frustration, and I enjoy every minute of it. My legs are shaking.
“You are perfect. You’re going to be a favorite for sure.”
Somehow, this wasn’t something I wanted to hear at this moment. I know it can’t last, but while we’re together, I want to be her favorite, the perfect lover, the one to make her forget the other eleven, and every woman before in her life. I might be a bit high on ego as well, but how can I not when I’m experiencing complete bliss?
The next thrust pushes me over the brink, into a state of pure happiness. I’m beginning to understand what this environment has done for me, taking good care of my body aside from regular orgasms—the food, the relaxation techniques and the exercise.
“I love you.”
My words are muffled against the pillow, but even so, a few seconds later, I feel the need to clarify. “I mean…You know how I mean it. I’ve neve
r had orgasms like this. It’s sorcery.”
Elizabeth laughs. She seems relieved. “It has nothing to do with sorcery, just paying attention and knowing your body.
“Well, you know mine pretty well by now.”
She surprises me by lying down next to me, holding me close.
“Are you sure that’s within the rules?”
“Why not?” she asks back, her hand tracing the curves of my body. It’s less sexual, and more tender now. “Let’s sleep for a bit. There’s more to come.”
* * * *
After lunch, I feel a bit queasy. I don’t make the connection until a trip to the bathroom reveals unwelcome red. Damn. A woman my age shouldn’t forget about the monthly nuisance, but I did. I wrote down a date in my calendar and the questionnaire, but in the time I spent here, I completely ignored the upcoming event.
“You’re too fucking early,” I say out loud.
“Are you okay?” Elizabeth asks when I exit the bathroom.
“Actually, no. Week three has been amazing so far, but I’m afraid someone’s put a stop to it.”
It takes her only a couple of seconds to make the connection.
“That’s not a problem. This is why we train more than one woman at a time, to account for that. Just let me know when you’re done and we’ll continue where we left off?”
“Well, I don’t have a choice, do I?” I’m a little relieved though, that week three isn’t going to be cut short. Even though it was unavoidable, this development is making me cranky.
“Don’t worry. We plan for this. Not every woman is on the pill and so…sometimes you just have to wait it out. There’s no disadvantage for you.”
“Except cramps.”
“Well, yeah. How about we take a little walk?”
“As in outside?”
“Yes, as in outside. I’ll invite us for dinner in one of the other houses later. This seems like a good time.”
“To meet the competition?”
“I wouldn’t think of her as competition. If you both go all the way and your cycles don’t sync, you might be working together at some point.”
Even though I find it hard to imagine any of it at the moment, I’m a bit stunned at the reminder. Another box I checked quickly. Addison might not be the only woman I’ll have sex with. I might be having sex with another woman in front of her, or be an observer. I’m sure that in two or three days from now, the thought will be more appealing. Right now, I don’t feel motivated to do anything, though a walk will probably help.
Harem Page 3