Then, the sensation is gone, and my eyes snap open. Sophia straightens, licking her lips. Addison takes my hand.
“We don’t rush anything here, sweetie. We have all the time in the world.”
I follow her to the bed on weak knees. “I remember that part of the training.”
Every step comes with a twinge, reminding me of the unfinished business. I might not even get there tonight, depending on Addison’s wishes.
We get naked, Sophia between us. I’ll admit that the concept intrigued me from the moment I first read about it. Get all the tests done, get that out of the way, and once you’re in, there’s nothing but leisure and satisfaction. For her, first, but we get to experience the untapped potential within ourselves. Sex without any guilt or expectations beyond the obvious.
Addison holds my hand once more, placing it between Sophia’s thighs. I take the hint and touch her, feel warm wetness coat my fingers.
“She enjoyed doing that to you. I enjoyed it too.”
It’s not my time and place yet. Addison has a dark red vibrator for Sophia whose breathing changes even at the sight of the object. I watch as Addison draws it over her clit before turning it on, then again, letting Sophia feel the full power of the vibrations.
I feel oddly left out at this moment, not sure what’s expected of me, so I wait.
Sophia expresses her bliss in no uncertain terms as the toy enters her, gliding deeper with every movement of her hips. Maybe I could just sneak out and…?
“Robin,” Addison commands softly. “Come on over here.”
…or maybe not.
Sophia has taken matters into her own hands, so to speak, and Addison pulls me into her arms, gently directing me where she wants me to be.
“Don’t go too fast. You know what to do.”
I sure do. Sophia pleasures herself with the vibrator, clearly not just show for Addison, but for her own benefit—twice—while I perform my first real harem duty. I’m good at it too, because Addison yields to my every manipulation of her body, every change of pace that drives her to the brink and then draws her back from it, until I allow her to come.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel, or if I feel anything at all beyond the obvious physical reaction. She brushes her hand over my hair.
“Beautiful. How about we take a moment to have dinner?”
There are two bathrooms off the suite. She disappears in one of them, while Sophia and I share the other. I’m a bit perplexed, unsettled, and, of course, still unsatisfied.
Lessons of weeks one and two, it’s not about me.
Sophia regards me curiously. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great. Addison doesn’t ask anything impossible.”
“You’ve been here for how long?”
“Almost a week,” she says. “When we did the test, I was at the end of my week.”
“Oh. Okay. Did you see Quinn?”
She shakes her head. “She should be here soon, unless she decided to leave early.”
“Leave early? Why would anyone do that at this point?” There it is again, the nagging guilt. I could have.
“There’s always a reason.” Sophia shrugs. “I plan on being here until the end, don’t you? This is a once in a lifetime chance.”
“Yeah, it is.”
We join Addison in the dining area where a light dinner waits for us—brown rice, chicken, vegetables, and a white wine. All of a sudden I am annoyed with the ever-present health-conscious food. I could go with a burger, red meat, red wine, maybe a Martini or two, and chocolate cake. For all my high and mighty aspirations, I might spend a part of my million on a junk food binge. Forget about relaxation and exercise.
I don’t share any of those thoughts, instead eat and engage in small talk. If I’m sent home early, I might have a date with fantasy later.
However, after dinner—fresh mango with cottage cheese for dessert—we resume our earlier activities, after brushing teeth and redoing hair and a touch of makeup.
We aren’t rushed, that’s for sure.
Everything in this house takes so damn long, I think when I’m the one at the center once more, the two women touching and caressing, playing with me. A thumb brushing over my clit, fingers opening me up, everything is too soft, too slow, to gentle.
But it’s not about me.
Two fingers inside me, Sophia adds a third. I gasp, finally feeling like this is going somewhere, that they are not going to deceive me until I fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. She moves out of the way, and her fingers are replaced with the dildo Addison is wearing. Cool and smooth, slightly less wide, it enters me easily. Finally, Addison wastes no more time, each of her thrusts deliberate, deep, pushing me further to the point of no return.
I close my eyes remembering the first time with Elizabeth, and many times after that, her keeping me waiting until there was nothing but ravenous pulsing need. And through it all, I simply loved being with her every day, talking about big or small things, and knowing she cared. At least I thought she did, but for the moment, the notion is enough. My body stiffens and then pleasure floods every space until I lie still, my heart racing.
Six months of torturing myself with memories, fantasies about what could have been leading to mind-blowing orgasms? I can do it.
* * * *
I had expected it to be like that for at least a while: Sophia, a plethora of toys, some meals together and threesomes, maybe the occasional orgy.
However, on the first weekend, Addison takes me to dinner in town.
“We have a business arrangement,” she says when I express my surprise. “You are not a hostage in my house.”
I’m glad she makes that clear, because my thoughts have wandered in all the wrong directions lately.
“There are some things I still don’t understand,” I admit. “I mean…I passed all my tests, obviously, and I’m impressed with how much I learned. I didn’t know there was so much to learn about sex, and there were boxes I didn’t check on the questionnaire.”
Her affectionate smile tells me she’s completely aware of which boxes I checked. I’m not going to ask her about the profile of any of the other women. Sophia’s. Quinn’s. She moved in this Friday, so she hasn’t quit after all. No, we all knew what we were doing.
“That’s the main incentive, for sure, but it doesn’t mean there can’t be anything else. You can have an emotional connection with someone temporarily. That doesn’t mean you have to walk away hurt and scared for the next time you put yourself out there.”
I wonder if she’s talking about the two of us. I don’t want to disappoint her. Addison is a no-nonsense person, calm, relaxing to be around, but I don’t feel a deep emotional connection. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I’m aware of what is hindering me, and perhaps she is too. What reason did Elizabeth give her when she left?
This part is difficult. I miss her so much it hurts. Yet, every moment of pleasure is because of her, the intimacy written on my body, indelible.
“Does that work for anybody? I mean…I want to do the best I can, but one of the things that drew me towards the—project—is that there was no need for romance. Life can be beautiful without it. It doesn’t mean you don’t make an effort for the person, but you stay away from all those entanglements that can hurt you.”
“The question is; can you really stop yourself? Look at me. I am surrounded by smart, funny and beautiful women. Do I fall in love? All the time. The feeling isn’t always mutual, but that’s not the point. I enjoy giving them something, an awareness of what they want from life, what is possible. It doesn’t hurt either one of us.”
Depending on where you stand, this sounds either completely sensible—or crazy.
Addison laughs when I tell her my thoughts. “Well, you didn’t run away, so I assume you’re at least still intrigued. My house isn’t Bluebeard’s castle.”
“No,” I say, laughing, too. “There’s no beard anywhere around.”
That night, Sophia doesn’t join us. We take a b
ath together that includes the use of vibrating toys. Afterwards, Addison gives me a massage, using almond-scented oil. I am in a stage of total bliss, warm, pliant, expecting the sensual ministration to turn sexual at any point.
What I didn’t expect was the sweeping wave of emotion catching up with me, and I don’t even realize what’s happening until I am sobbing into the pillow. I am pretty sure that’s not part of pleasing the woman of the house, the realization making me cry harder.
Addison covers me with the sheet, running a gentle hand down my back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” What, I’m not even sure, but I sound pathetic.
“It’s okay. Nothing to be sorry about. Are you going to tell me about it?”
“It’s not your problem. Again, I’m sorry.” I sit up and reach for the tissues on the nightstand. “Let me just go wash my face. I’ll be right back and you can think about…what you want to do.”
Wrapped in the sheet, I get up and flee for the bathroom where I try to make myself presentable again. The almond scent is clinging to my skin. It’s nice, so why do I feel like I want to take another shower? What is wrong with me?
There’s no reason to cause drama like this. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love, Addison said so—it doesn’t have to hurt you. She’s rich enough to send adventurous women home with a million dollars, after months of sexual experimentation. Elizabeth alone trained eleven women plus me. Even if not everyone made it until the end, that would still be a substantial investment. She must know what she’s talking about, right?
When I return to the bedroom, Addison pats the space in the bed beside her.
“Come here,” she says. “Let’s get some sleep.”
“What? I thought…”
“There’ll be another day. I have an early start tomorrow, so this is good.” When we’ve turned off the light, she adds, “I think you and Elizabeth should talk. Before or after the six months are up, that’s up to you, but clearing the air would be good for both of you.”
“There’s nothing to clear.” My voice sounds level, even though the tears are falling anew. “She didn’t even bother saying goodbye.”
“She had her reasons too. This is not the usual way to end the training.”
I wait a few heartbeats, sad, worried. “Is she okay?”
“Nothing happened to her,” Addison says. “But if there’s a lack of closure on either side, you should take care of that before you go to Athens.”
I let the hope flourish for a moment, then crush it with everything I have.
“There is no point. I am here now. Are you sure you don’t want to ravish my body another time?”
“The offer is tempting, but I’ll have to take a rain check. More ravishing tomorrow. Good night, Robin.”
* * * *
I’m trying hard to find comfort in Addison’s theory, about the possibility to fall in love at any time, several times, with different people. All without the hurt of having invested too much, of having the other person walk out on you when you least expect it.
If I could talk to Elizabeth, perhaps we could both come to the conclusion that that’s what it was, a period of being in love, attraction, infatuation that we can cherish in our memories?
If only it was that easy.
For Addison, it is.
I can’t ignore that she’s quite taken with me, and so I try to avoid any serious conversation, especially regarding Elizabeth. I let her ravish my body, and listen to her talk about her work.
One time, Quinn joins us, and I’m instantly reminded of the test, when Elizabeth was watching us, so clearly unhappy with the setting. I should have known then and there, but I was too blinded by…what? The prospect of money? The certainty that I would never get emotionally involved with another person again? I don’t even know anymore.
The curse of the month rolls around, and Quinn takes my place.
The days are even longer, more opportunity to think about her, what could have been. I’m bored and restless, and once more at a loss.
There’s only one way to solve this. It’s not a good time to make decisions when you’re in pain, so I wait another day until at least the physical one has mostly passed. Then I ask for an appointment with Addison.
Elizabeth
Eleven women. The first two left in the middle of week one, bored with the routine, realizing that this wasn’t what they wanted after all. Similar with the one that came to me during week two and told me it wasn’t personal—but she was reconsidering the future relationship with Addison that would be a one-way street in parts. The remaining eight were quite happy with week three, trying out the various toys they’d read about, but still, another one dropped out.
Addison and I developed the program together. Mentors would assess how applicants were doing when focused on one person—the mentor—and then pair them with another applicant—maybe two if they were doing well.
Robin was doing well, even though she, in a rather subtle way, kept questioning the premise. She made me question it as well, and that is where the trouble started.
I remember the others, their names, their faces, and their eagerness to be part of something taboo-breaking. Robin haunts me.
Since I packed up my things at the mentor house and said goodbye to Addison, I haven’t spoken to anyone.
It’s not the kind of small talk you can have with your neighbor or the barista in the coffee shop down the street—I just quit my job training harem girls. No, not actual girls. No, it’s not as bad as it sounds. But maybe it is.
I don’t know anymore.
I’ve been drinking, and crying, and resenting Addison for having such a magnetic pull with women, not just because of her money. I was once drawn to her for other reasons, and then we became friends…Everything is in disarray now. Perhaps it’s not Addison’s fault, or Robin’s. It’s mine.
I had never slept in an applicant’s bed, other than for a few minutes after a marathon session when your body demands immediate rest. At night, I cuddled up to her, held her, because I made myself believe it would help ease her into the next phase.
There’s no next phase for me. I arranged tests for applicants before her, coordinated with Kimberly and the other mentors to determine their ability to relate to another applicant in case the occasion arose.
I hated to do it for Robin, hated to see her engage with the other women. It was on my mind before, but that was the moment that told me I had to do something. When I got the call, I knew I couldn’t send her off to Addison like the others. Because I couldn’t bear to see her go.
Because I wanted her for myself.
This is crazy, I know. The women I taught came to us in the hope of leaving with a million dollars at some point. Mentors present a stepping stone, a temporary partnership. That’s what Addison and I decided, that’s all I ever wanted—or so I thought.
“Are you sure that she is ready to come to the main house?” Addison asked me when I turned in my resignation. “You speak very fondly of her.”
“I am fond of all of them,” I returned. “It’s time for me to move on.”
“I can’t say I’m happy about this. You’re the best teacher I have.”
I shrugged, giving her a wry smile. “It’s just sex, right? It’s not rocket science.”
“You didn’t use to talk that way.”
“I’m talking that way now. Bye, Addison.”
I have no reason to resent her. Because of her, I am living comfortably in a nice condo with a view. It’s all paid for, so the only thing I’ll have to pay in the future are taxes, and perhaps updates, but I’m not worried. It pays well to be a mentor, if only for a few years. Addison knew that everyone who came to her regarding the harem, would have an inexplicable gap in their résumé, and she’s been taking care of everyone. Financially. And with a letter of recommendation in case we wanted to go back into our old fields. That’s not an urgent decision for me. The urgency lay elsewhere, and I messed up. I’ll never see her a
gain—she’ll be going home with lots of money, and no doubt going on her dream trip not long after.
I’ve watched videos on the internet. Capri. The Acropolis. Beautiful places.
We sold a lie.
You can get involved with someone and enjoy yourself, no strings attached, time after time, until you let your guard down.
That’s when it happens.
I feel terrible about running out on her like I did. If nothing else, I’ll have to apologize to her. For that, I’ll have to wait six months or go back to the place where she is sleeping in Addison’s bed. It will hurt either way.
* * * *
To my surprise, Addison picks up right away.
“So good to hear from you. How are you doing?”
I’m miserable, and you know exactly why. I bite back the useless retort. Better cut to the chase.
“I need to talk to Robin. The rules allow for a visit with an old mentor.”
“I wasn’t going to argue with you,” she says, sounding surprised I would even bring that up. “You’re coming here, yes? I’ll make sure you have somewhere to talk in private.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s doing fine, but I think talking to you will be good for her. She’s been wondering about the way you left, never giving her a chance to say goodbye.”
I press my hand against my forehead, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation. If Addison says Robin is doing fine, it can only mean one thing, and I don’t want to imagine. It’s more than closure that I need, but I’m not going to get it. It’s not about me. It’s about the apology I owe her.
“I’m aware. That was wrong. I want to explain.”
“Elizabeth. You know there are always many options.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Tomorrow at six, is that okay?” I don’t know why I choose this number. Maybe it’s because I’m still trying to uphold appearances. I worked diligently at the house, always. I might be a tad embarrassed that I haven’t done anything in the past few days other than lounge in bed, get a coffee every once in a while, drink and cry. It’s a relief, actually. I couldn’t show that side to Robin, couldn’t admit to myself that I love her.
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