Misadventures with a Sexpert

by Elizabeth Hayley

  I wanted nothing more than to screw my eyes shut and zero in on my own body and my own release. But I forced myself to watch her writhe and moan as the man fucked her with strong, measured thrusts.

  When he whispered for her to come, it was like he was granting permission to us both. It was as if I’d been touched by a lightning rod with how hard I shuddered with my orgasm. I finger-fucked myself through it, making tremors dance up and down my spine for a few moments after my climax had crested.

  My breath was still a bit ragged when I finally opened my eyes and looked at the couple on the screen. The man was jacking himself off on her, and as I watched his come coat her belly, I had the sudden urge to touch myself again. He then untied her and urged her to sprawl on top of him as he held her close.

  As good as the orgasm had been, the sight before me left me feeling bereft. Because while sex was great—that wasn’t what I was after. I hadn’t let my sister make me a dating account and agreed to go on these dates so I could fuck around. No, I wanted the afterglow cuddling.

  I wanted someone to still be in my bed the next morning. Someone to make breakfast with, and share work stories with, and have kids and grow old with. I wanted the goddamn white picket fence dream, and I hoped like hell becoming a sexual dynamo would help me get there. Being sexually competent and open-minded had to be a draw to men…didn’t it?

  It certainly couldn’t hurt.

  I also didn’t think it could hurt to spend most of the rest of the night conducting more “research.”

  The next morning, when it was late enough that I thought I wouldn’t wake Grayson up, I called him.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “I think we need a safe word.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line before Grayson spoke. “I feel like ‘good morning’ would’ve been more appropriate.”

  He sounded groggy, like he might still be lying in bed. I tried not to imagine a sleepy-faced Grayson—hair light brown, disheveled in a way that looked a little messier than usual, dark scruff lining his jaw.

  “Sorry. Good morning.” And after a slight pause, “I think we need a safe word.”

  This time a laugh burst from him. “A safe word?”

  “Yes, it’s a word that I could use—or you too if you wanted—that—”

  “I know what a safe word is, Isla.” His tone was light, like the suggestion amused him more than it probably should.

  “Oh. Have you…like been in a Dominant/submissive relationship before?”

  “I have not.”

  I could practically hear him smiling.

  “I’m being serious here.”

  “I know. It’s cute.”

  I tried to ignore the compliment, however small it was, and stay focused.

  “I did what you suggested and spent some time researching, and I honestly have no idea where to even begin identifying things I’m comfortable doing or not doing because I’ve never done any of them, and there are so many, soooo many things we could try, so I just figured it might be best if we picked a safe word in case one of us does something the other isn’t comfortable with that we haven’t discussed.”

  All of that had come out in one breath, and I knew it made me sound even crazier.

  I left out my pornographic viewing, but he didn’t need to know about that. Not yet, at least. After my video tour, I’d also Googled BDSM, which led me to discover the importance of a safe word.

  “Okay,” he said simply. “I do still think we should discuss some things you’d like to try. You know…so this arrangement can be as educational as possible. But I do agree a safe word can’t hurt. Did you have one in mind?”

  “Um, no. Not exactly. I hadn’t gotten that far in the process. I guess I wanted to see if you thought we’d need one first. I just didn’t wanna end up bound with a ball gag stuffed in my mouth and no way to tell you I wasn’t comfortable with it.”

  Grayson laughed softly. “If you’re gagged, you won’t be able to use the safe word anyway.”

  My mouth hung open for a moment before I replied. “This is so complicated.” Sighing, I tried to think of a way that all this could work. How was I supposed to explore new territory and test my boundaries without understanding the ins and outs of a world I had no experience in? But before I could vocalize any of that, Gray spoke.

  “Why don’t we just do something together first—nonsexual, I mean. Just to break the ice a little. We don’t need to break out the anal beads just yet.”

  The smile spread slowly across my face, and I said, “That might be the sweetest thing any man’s ever said to me.”

  GRAYSON

  Isla was unpredictable, that much was for sure. She’d more than shocked me when she’d asked me to be her sexual Yoda, and then again when she’d jumped right from her proposition to discussing safe words and ball gags.

  But after I thought about it, I couldn’t say I was surprised by her choice of a getting-to-know-you activity. How could we trust each other in the bedroom if we didn’t even know each other outside of it?

  I’d left it in her hands to plan something because my first concern was her comfort. But as I tugged on the line the blue-haired teenage girl had attached to my harness, I silently prayed for my own safety.

  Normally, I would’ve been psyched to try out an obstacle course, but this one looked like the ropes version of a traveling carnival that headed to the next town before anyone could figure out who to sue for their broken neck.

  “You’re brave,” I told Isla.

  She shrugged. “Brave, stupid…there’s not much difference, is there?” It obviously wasn’t a question she expected an answer to because she didn’t wait for me to give one. “Besides, how bad can it be? There’s a party of nine-year-old girls here.”

  I’d noticed. They were only a few feet away from us since we’d gotten grouped with them, and they hadn’t stopped squealing and taking selfies since they’d arrived. I wasn’t sure that our pairing with them had as much to do with the course’s difficulty as it did our—or rather my—ability.

  “They were just talking about what Justin Bieber’s hair might taste like,” I said. “They’re what makes you brave?”

  “Or stupid,” she replied.

  “You don’t strike me as a stupid person. Crazy maybe, but not stupid.”

  The comment made her laugh, and it occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t be this attracted to someone wearing a dirty helmet and so much bug spray it would put an adolescent boy’s overuse of Axe to shame. But damn, could she wear the shit out of some ropes. Maybe we’d have to try out a little bondage sooner rather than later.

  “Crazy, huh?”

  I gave Isla a shrug. “What else would you call someone who propositions a stranger for sex in public?”

  I felt her punch me in the arm before I saw it coming because my focus was on the skinny girl with the red ponytail who was currently swinging her way across the wooden rings like she’d been raised by P.T. Barnum.

  “Hey,” she said when her fist connected with my bicep.

  “Hey what?” I laughed.

  “I didn’t proposition you for sex in public. I propositioned you in public for sex. There’s a difference.”

  I smiled at her until she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I can see why you make a good lawyer, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, right! You were definitely thinking that I sound like a prostitute no matter how you phrase it.”

  “You’re nothing like a prostitute.” Jesus, was that what she thought I was calling her? “Besides, you picked me up for sex, so technically, if either of us is considered a prostitute, it’d be me. We’ve already gone over this.”

  She let her glare settle into me in a way that made me feel both uncomfortable and turned on at the same time. “Fair enough,” she finally said. “You can be Julia Roberts in our situation.”

  She flashed me a smile before turning to approach the rings. Apparently durin
g her stare-down, the other four girls had crossed so effortlessly, I hadn’t even noticed. But I certainly didn’t miss Isla’s turn.

  Every muscle in her back flexed around her tight racerback tank top, and I even cocked my head to the side to get a better view of her ass. It was impressive, to say the least. Her arms were taut and lean as she swung, her body as fluid and graceful as the gentle wind that blew through the branches around us.

  Then it was my turn. If Isla was the wind, I was like one of those dark clouds that rolls in out of nowhere and makes people run for cover. I made it three rings before I slipped off and fell to the net below. I hoped I was better in bed than I was at the ropes course.

  Thankfully, Isla wasn’t too hard on me.

  She told me she’d taken gymnastics from the time she was four through her sophomore year of high school, and she assured me that the little girls in our group took it too. I didn’t know if she was making it up, but my ego didn’t let me ask.

  I was glad when some of the next obstacles were more in my wheelhouse. It gave us a chance to talk a bit without me feeling the pressure of trying to stay alive. I told her I’d grown up outside of New York City, and she told me she’d grown up near here and a little bit more about her sister before it was our turn on the next obstacle.

  It was an angled rope ladder that I climbed with ease, and then another rope we held on to as we swung to a platform. Isla and the other girls had a little more trouble than they did with the rings, but they managed to make it across.

  For the last obstacle, we had to climb a rope dangling over a wall. The girls managed to get over, though they struggled. But when Isla tried, she got stuck about halfway up.

  I positioned myself below her, my hands directly under her ass but not quite touching it. It’d be a lie if I said I didn’t hope she slipped—if only for a split second—so I could feel her. I wasn’t sure why I felt like this was a little inappropriate. I was only in this position for her safety. Or mostly in it for her safety. Plus, we’d be sleeping together soon. And sleeping together meant that we’d see and feel each other naked, so my spot below her was totally justified.

  “How you doing up there?” I asked, hoping to take my mind off a naked Isla.

  When my question didn’t do it, her foot slipping off the one handhold did. Her foot sputtered against the wall before I caught it with my hands and hoisted her up a bit higher.

  “Were you base on your squad in high school?” she called.

  “Uh, I have no idea what that means. You mean like bass guitar or…”

  She grabbed at the top of the wall and draped a leg over the other side. “Cheerleading.”

  I laughed loudly as I ascended the wall, thankful that I could manage to do at least one thing better than the group of elementary schoolers.

  “I don’t dance unless I’m drunk, so that one was out. I was more of a baseball guy. I did that and swimming through high school. What about you? You do any sports? Other than gymnastics?” I added, not wanting her to think I’d forgotten.

  She squinted up at me with the sun behind me. “Does debate club count?”

  “I’m assuming that question is rhetorical.”

  She laughed as she unclipped her helmet and ran a hand through her hair, which was damp with sweat. “I was a total nerd. Braces and Coke-bottle glasses. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

  “I find it hard to believe there was ever a time when you weren’t a pretty sight.”

  “I might just have to break out the pictures sometime to prove it, then. It’s a good thing we met as adults, because there’s no way you would’ve agreed to have sex with me in high school.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Clearly you aren’t familiar with high school boys’ standards. Living and willing were like the only two criteria I looked for as a teenager.”

  “You’re funny,” she said, and her smile made me think she actually meant the comment as a compliment and not a sarcastic jab.

  “So are you.” I threw an arm over her shoulder as we walked back to the office to put our gear away. “Debate club,” I said with a shake of my head.

  Once all our equipment was returned, we headed to our cars. I found myself wishing I’d picked Isla up so our day didn’t have to end here. But both of us were muddy and in definite need of showers anyway.

  “So do we know each other well enough now?”

  Her question surprised me, and I smirked at her. “You just cut to the chase, don’t you?”

  “It’s the lawyer in me.”

  Leaning against my car, I dropped my backpack to the ground and crossed my arms, doing my best to keep her in suspense. “Well, I know you can do most obstacles better than me, which—now that I think about it—is even more embarrassing because you were a nerd,” I joked.

  “Am a nerd,” she said.

  “Well, considering I’ve been drawing comics of dates that aren’t my own, I don’t think I have much room to judge who’s nerdier now.”

  “You could always draw your own dates.”

  “I could if I went on any.”

  She nodded slowly. “Right. You’re not doing the relationship thing.”

  “Not anytime soon. Gotta wait for the PTSD to wear off. Dating someone would be like knowing there’s a killer at the front door and instead of running through the backyard, I decide to let him in and then hide in an upstairs closet. I might be okay for a little while, but the ending’s always the same.”

  She tried to suppress a laugh but failed. “Did you just compare your love life to a horror movie?”

  “You wouldn’t be so surprised if you knew my ex.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I could feel the weight of the memories pressing on my chest as I spoke.

  She took a step closer to me and brought a hand up to my cheek, holding it there for a few silent moments before she said anything. “What do you say we take your mind off all that?”

  Her voice was low, raspy even, and I responded immediately. My cock stood at attention, and I wanted to adjust it in my shorts. I inched my face closer to hers, our mouths practically touching now.

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  She answered with her lips, but no sound escaped them. They touched mine, and I could feel the need coursing through both of us as our tongues moved slowly over each other’s. A moan came from so low in her chest, I felt it more than heard it, and it made me groan in response. I was fully hard now, and I was sure I’d stay that way until I came.

  “I could get on board with this idea,” I said, pulling away for just long enough to speak.

  We kissed for a little longer, our hands feeling places that weren’t entirely appropriate for a family-friendly parking lot, before we finally broke away. She was breathless, and I was surprised I was too. At least we had sexual chemistry. That was for sure.

  “We may need showers first,” Isla suggested.

  Showers are overrated. “Right. That’s probably a good idea.”

  She took a step back. “So another time?”

  “We could save water and shower together,” I offered, only half kidding.

  Her laugh told me she was going to decline my invitation.

  “Another time, then,” I said. “Soon.”

  “Definitely soon. It’ll be like getting-to-know-you sex. You know…before we take out the handcuffs.”

  “Sounds good.” It also sounded like I’d be handling this hard-on myself later because this boy wasn’t going down on its own. I definitely did not check out her ass as she walked all the way to her car across the lot. And I would not be picturing it later when I rubbed one out in the shower, wishing she was there.

  Chapter Eight

  GRAYSON

  When Isla had suggested we start out with a kind of get-to-know-you romp, I had no idea it would be this nerve-racking. Even though I’d made it clear that I was just a normal guy, she still expected me to have some level of prowess in the bedroom.

  When we’d agreed to meet for coffee at the Bean
, and then agreed to take each other up on the sex rain check from the other day, I’d been all in. But now, with the main event looming in front of me, fear of disappointing her swamped me as we walked to my place.

  Not to mention, I didn’t want to fuck this up for selfish reasons as well. This was the kind of no-strings-attached arrangement most guys only dreamed about. And here it was, served up to me on a beautiful platter.

  I was surprised with how much Isla was open to trying, but it was also overwhelming. It seemed daunting to try to figure out how to please her during kinkier encounters when I didn’t know how her body responded to the basics. Which was why it was vitally important to have our own version of Sex 101 before we started talking about which types of rope might be best to restrain her with.

  “This is me,” I said as I pointed to my building. It probably wasn’t the most appealing place to a successful lawyer since my apartment was situated over a hardware store, but it was clean and in a safe neighborhood. I hadn’t had many other requirements when I’d left my ex-wife and moved to Monroe.

  “I’ve walked by here a thousand times but never went inside,” she replied, gesturing toward the store.

  “Mr. Perkins, the guy who owns the shop, also owns my apartment upstairs. He’s a nice guy, and it’s helpful that he can do most repairs himself.” I fumbled with my keys for a second until I found the right one and slid it into the lock, turning it until I heard the deadbolt click open. Stepping back, I gestured in front of me. “After you.”

  She glanced inside. “I feel like every horror movie I’ve ever seen starts just like this.”

  “I feel like we talk about our lives being horror movies a lot. Also, the villain can’t kill virgins, so you’re safe,” I teased, which earned me a slap to the arm.

  “I said I wasn’t a virgin, jerk.” She stepped inside and waited for me at the base of the stairs while I locked the door behind me.

  Moving past her, I led her to the second floor where my unit was. There was still one more above me, which housed a nocturnal creature with an affinity for house music. I rarely saw him but thought his name was Glover. The way his clothes were always splattered with paint led me to believe he was an artist. When we reached my apartment, I unlocked the door quickly and threw it open as if I were ripping off a Band-Aid.