Coming Soon

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  This time, when she closes her eyes, she finally begins to drift off.

  But not before a soft, gentle caress of a kiss brushes against her temple, warm and affectionate.

  “Thank you, Hitomi.”

  MULTIPLE GIFTS

  Anuja Varghese

  “How many times do you think I could make you come?

  Ashika nearly choked on a bite of moo shu pork. She set the Styrofoam container down on the floor next to her and leaned in close to the laptop screen. “Is this what you’re thinking about while I’m telling you about my day?” she demanded, her face set in mock seriousness.

  From the other side of the ocean, Vik leaned back in his computer chair and shrugged, even as his mouth curved into that mischievous smile that Ashika knew so well.

  She laughed and shook her head. “Honestly, why are men so obsessed with multiple orgasms?” she asked. “It’s not a competition, you know. There’s no prize at the end for the guy that gets the most.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I don’t need a prize, Professor Rai,” he said. “It would be an honor just to compete.” There was humor in his voice, but even with the 3,000 miles between them, Ashika could feel the undercurrent of intensity there, the desire infusing his words with heat.

  Ashika rarely checked her account on the Indian dating website her mother had signed her up for, and replied to the messages from eager suitors even more rarely still. But when Dr. Vikram Anand’s striking face had popped up nearly a year ago, his close-cropped beard defining a sharp jawline, gold-flecked charcoal eyes gazing out at her, with the rolling hills of the English countryside in the background of his profile picture, something in her had been compelled to respond.

  It made no sense to start chatting—they both knew that. She had just accepted a tenured position at the University of Toronto and he was about to open a private surgical practice in Cheltenham, about two hours west of London. Neither of them had any plans to move halfway across the world, no matter how exciting a new online match might be. Nevertheless, he had suggested a virtual date that first Friday night, and they had been meeting every Friday since—she, usually eating a takeout dinner on her living room floor, and he, five hours ahead, nursing a late-night drink. They had formed a friendship that had slowly become a flirtation, sharing stories of first crushes and kisses, and then, over the past few weeks, more intimate details— favorite fantasies, wildest sex stories, and yes, best orgasms.

  The last time they’d talked, Ashika had confessed that once, during a summer spent learning French in Montreal, she had enjoyed a brief entanglement with a very attractive bartender who, over the course of one sweltering weekend in July, had made her come eight times. She had forgotten bringing it up altogether, but apparently, Vik had not.

  Ashika tucked her legs underneath her and adjusted the laptop screen. “How many times do you think I want to come?” she asked.

  Vik furrowed his brow and made a show of counting on his fingers before replying definitively, “More than eight.”

  “Incorrect, Dr. Anand!” Ashika said, waving her fortune cookie at him. “Montreal was a long time ago. We were just dumb kids. We didn’t care what time it was or that there was nothing to eat or that the apartment was a mess, or that we were a mess.” She broke the cookie apart and continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun and all, but realistically, that’s not how functioning adults have sex.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, nodding seriously. “Tell me, Professor Rai, how do functioning adults have sex?” He was teasing her, but he was also looking at her in a way that made her want to reach through the screen, rip that T-shirt off, and start mapping out his body with her tongue.

  She cleared her throat and cleared her head and said, “Well, we get in a little foreplay, we get to the main event, we both get off, and then we get a good night’s sleep.”

  He raised his gin and tonic in a toast. “Very efficient,” he said. “But not quite what I had in mind.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He put down his drink and leaned forward in his chair. “You know I’m going to that conference in Arizona next month. I’m presenting on anterior cruciate ligament reconstruction. It’s—”

  “Knee surgery. I know. You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

  “Right. That.” Vik dropped Ashika’s gaze and ran his hand through his hair. Was he nervous? “So, I’m looking at flights, and I think I can swing a stopover in Toronto. It wouldn’t be very long, only twelve hours or so, but . . .” He looked back up at her. “I’d really like to see you, Ashika. In person.”

  Ashika paused, letting the suggestion sink in. There had been safety in distance, in friendship, in the wall of the screen always between them. What would happen when that wall came down, if he was here, if he was hers, to touch, to taste? And what would happen afterwards when he was gone again?

  Her silence prompted him to jump in with, “No pressure! I know we haven’t exactly talked about meeting, so if that’s not what you—”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d really like to see you too. In person.”She couldn’t help but smile as she said it. The words sounded so lascivious suddenly, dripping with innuendo. I’d really like to see you in person, in the flesh, in my bed. She met his eyes. “Book the flight.”

  He gave a slight nod and shifted in his seat. Ashika knew without him saying a word that his cock was hard in his pants.

  “Booking it right now,” he said. “I’ll see you in a month.”

  Ashika didn’t realize how fast her heart was beating until she snapped the laptop closed and forced herself to take a deep breath. A month felt like too long to wait and not long enough at the same time. She picked up the slip of paper that had fallen from her fortune cookie and read the printed message. Multiple gifts are coming to you, it said.

  How many times do you think I could make you come?Vik’s words were in her ears, his smile in her head, his mouth on her mouth in her dreams.

  I guess we’ll find out soon enough, Dr. Anand, Ashika thought. She stuck the fortune to her fridge with a magnet and started counting down the days to Vik’s arrival.

  Ashika stood in front of the mirror on her bedroom door in a white silk teddy. Demure, she thought. Understated. She chewed her lip and swept her curls into a lopsided bun. She wriggled out of the teddy and replaced it with a lacy pink bra and matching thong. She thought about adding stockings and a garter belt. Too much? She sighed. He had said a woman in lingerie was a turnon, but had not been forthcoming with details. After trying on a few more things, and taking them off just as quickly, Ashika found herself standing in a sea of discarded lace, silk, and satin, naked and frustrated. And that’s when the doorbell rang.

  Ashika froze. He was early. Shit. She panicked, searching frantically through the bits and pieces scattered across her bedroom floor. Nothing was right. Shit, shit, shit. He rang the bell again. She grabbed her bathrobe, cinching its tattered belt around her waist, then ran down the stairs and threw open the door.

  “Professor Rai,” Vik said, raising an eyebrow at her state of undress. “Hello.”

  “Hello! You’re here! How the hell did you make it so fast? The subway has never once got me home from the airport in under an hour!” Ashika said by way of reply.

  “I took a cab. But I can leave and come back if you like?” He was very clearly trying not to laugh.

  “Of course not, come in.” Ashika stepped back so he could enter. He pulled his suitcase behind him as he followed her into the living room. She knew that smile, those eyes, that voice— except now they were attached to a real man who was taking off his coat, who was turning to look at her, moving in closer, close enough to touch. “I made dinner reservations,” she told him, but she already knew they wouldn’t be leaving the house.

  “I can do without dinner,” he replied. “We don’t have much time and if I’m going to beat the eight-orgasm record, I really should get started.” Ashika could hardly argue with that. She felt his h
and on her hastily tied together robe. “May I?”

  She nodded and Vik gave the belt of her robe a deliberate tug, then slowly pulled it apart. “I was going to wear—” Ashika began, but he shook his head.

  * * *

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t say a word.” He held the robe open and looked her up and down, devouring her with his eyes. Circling around, he slipped it from her shoulders, baring her arms as he pulled them free of their sleeves. Once the robe fell to the ground, his warm hands were warm on her bare skin. She tipped her head back to find Vik’s mouth and he obliged her with a long kiss, soft and unhurried, full of the promise of pleasure to come.

  His lips traveled down her neck as his thumbs circled her nipples, one of them skimming her torso, her hip, her thigh, until it met her pussy lips and clit. She was already wet, and his fingers slipped easily inside her, a swift, sure movement that made her toes curl into the rug. As his other hand fondled her tits, Ashika felt his hardness through his pants, pressing into her ass. She wanted to turn in his arms, wanted his mouth, his cock, wanted all of him at once, but he held her in place. “Be still,” he said.

  “Yes, doctor,” Ashika replied and got a soft laugh in response that made her cunt clench around his fingers of its own volition. He took his time, rolling her nipples, pinching them lightly, playing with them until they stood at aching attention and sent ripples of sensation surging through her breasts, down through her belly, to meet his other hand still buried between her legs. Ashika realized this was not a quick diddle, but a finger-fucking of the most thorough kind.

  When she had imagined sex with Vik (and she had imagined it so many times), it was always fast and hard, a brief encounter with a man she might never see again. But as it turned out, Dr. Anand was having none of that. Even after his thrusting, curling, twisting in exactly the right way to make her come, and her gasping, groaning, sliding down his body on legs that felt like jelly until she was just a puddle of coffee-colored limbs spread out on the floor in front of him, begging to be fucked— even then, she only got a slow grin.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he told her, tossing the cushions from the sofa onto the floor.

  Ashika put one under her head and the other one beside her for his head and then held her arms out, fingers beckoning, her whole body buzzing with anticipation. He unbuttoned his shirt, then took it off entirely. His pants came off next and then he was on his knees, snatching the cushion she had meant for him and wedging it under her hips. He pushed her legs apart and lowered his head between them.

  “No way,” Ashika said, when she realized what he had in mind. “That’s not fair!” He ignored her, pressing his lips to the insides of her thighs, working his way up. “Vik, you don’t have to—” Closer now. “I’ve already—” Closer still. “I just want—” Oh. Oh fuck. His tongue was inside her. Moving. Tasting. Making a leisurely sweep of her cunt until it came to flick the tip of her clit.

  He paused to look up at her. “Sorry, professor, were you saying something?”

  Ashika had no protests left. She would be a madwoman to stop him from doing anything that felt this good. She shook her head and surrendered to the floor. He went to work in earnest then, licking and sucking and nibbling until he had her moaning indiscernible expletives, utterly at the mercy of his skillful ministrations. Ashika’s legs found their way onto his shoulders and she anchored herself there, her hips rising to meet him, as he brought her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

  “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” Ashika demanded breathlessly, as he stretched out beside her on the rug.

  “I think it’s like riding a bike,” he said. “Once you learn, you never really forget.” He smiled and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. It was such a tender gesture, familiar in a way that felt like he had always been there, like he should always be there beside her. A glance at the clock on the wall reminded Ashika that that was not the case. With every passing minute, their time together grew shorter.

  She pushed the encroaching sadness away and stood up, bringing Vik’s discarded shirt with her. When she put it on, it smelled clean and earthy, with hints of sandalwood cologne and the leather of his jacket still clinging to it. It smelled like him and that was better than all the lingerie in the world. Ashika knew then and there that Vikram Anand would probably break her heart.

  “Drinks,” she said brightly. “We need drinks.”

  They brought their drinks into the bedroom and made out like teenagers, up against the walls and carelessly against the dresser, kicking aside garters, bras, and thongs as they went. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ashika reached down to stroke Vik’s cock through his briefs, but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “Let me touch you,” she whispered.

  “If I let you do that, this is going to be over much too fast,” he said. “And we can’t have that, now can we? Not when I have—what? Six more orgasms to go just to catch up?”

  “I have a vibrator you could stick in,” Ashika joked. “That would probably get you at least one more.”

  “I think that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?”

  “No one would know,” Ashika replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

  He accepted her gin-flavored mouth, her tongue, her breath, her spit, all of it. Then he said, “All right. Get it out.”

  “What? My vibrator?”

  He nodded.

  Ashika paused, then rolled over and pulled the trusty toy out of her bedside table drawer. It wasn’t anything fancy, just eight inches of reliable vibrating silicone in the shape of a hot pink cock. She wasn’t ashamed to have it, but it was a strange thing to show to someone else, someone who she both knew well and was also meeting for the first time. She held it up for him to see.

  “That’s very pretty,” he said. “Do you ever think about me while you’re using it?”

  Ashika laughed. Cheeky bastard. “Maybe.”

  “Come on now, tell the truth.”

  “Yes.” So many times, yes.

  He laughed with her, then said, “Stand up.” So she did. “Just against the wall there please.” She did as he asked, dildo still in hand. “Spread your legs just a little.”

  “Is this some private fantasy of yours that we haven’t covered?” Ashika teased, but she spread her legs apart, just as he said.

  “Maybe,” he replied. His eyes on her body as he moved toward her felt every bit as intimate as his hands and his mouth had felt before.

  “Come on now,” she echoed him, “Tell the—”

  “Yes.” He cut her off as he took the toy from her hand and turned it on. “I have fantasized about this, about you . . .” He touched the vibrating head lightly to her clit. “ . . .Even when I knew I shouldn’t, that this should have ended at friendship. But no matter what I did . . .” He was pressing harder now and the pleasure was spiraling out in waves that kept building in intensity. “. . . I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

  Ashika came for him against the wall, the orgasm washing over her like a sheet of warm rain. But he wasn’t done. “I’ve had feelings for other women before, Ashika, but this is different.” He was so close to her and so real; no oceans, no screens, no walls between them now. “Feelings I can manage, but this thing between us, this is a fucking fire.” Without warning, he pushed the entire length of the pink cock into her cunt. Then he was fucking her with it, still vibrating, with long, deep strokes, driving her toward the edge of an electric release. His face was next to hers, his cheek against her cheek, when he said, “I’ve thought about it from every angle, but there’s just no way, is there? There’s no way to touch a fire without getting burned.” He turned his head to look her in the eye. “So, fuck it,” he said. “Let’s burn.”

  “Let’s burn,” Ashika repeated, barely able to get it out before he brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her while she came again.

  There were no more words, no more jokes, no more reasons, no regrets. There was only Ashik
a and Vik, falling onto the bed, Vik naked at last, hard in Ashika’s hand, and then hard inside her, the two of them moving together as if they had always been one. And this time, it was just as she had imagined, him pinning her to the sheets and fucking her hard and fast, making her scream, making her come, making her stay in the moment where tomorrow didn’t exist. Ashika wrapped her arms and legs around him and allowed herself to be ravaged. She had no idea what the morning would hold, but she had every intention to make the most of the night.

  It was still dark when Ashika woke up, her bedroom cast in the faint glow of a flickering streetlight. Shifting closer to the warmth of Vik’s body in her bed, she let her hand close softly around his sleeping cock.

  He stirred and then turned to face her. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she whispered back.

  “What are you thinking?”

  What could she tell him? That she wanted him to love her? That she wanted him to give up everything he had worked so hard for and choose her? That she just wanted him to fuck her again? “How much time do we have?”

  He looked over her shoulder at the bedside table clock. “A few hours,” he said. “Got any suggestions for what we might do?” He was tracing lazy circles around her nipple with his fingertip, making her wet without even trying.

  Ashika sat up and brushed the wild tangle of her hair back from her face. “Should we . . . talk? I mean, is there anything to talk about?”

  Vik crossed his arms behind his head and considered. “We could talk,” he said. “We could easily spend the time we have left going back and forth, trying to figure out all the potential ways we could make this work, negotiating terms.” He looked at her. “Is that what you want to do?”

  Ashika’s gaze lingered on his mouth, on the curve of flexed muscle in his arm, the dark curls on his chest. My god, he’s a beautiful man. “No,” she said and seized the opportunity to find his lips with hers. She straddled his body and felt his cock harden as she rocked her hips on top of him, only allowing the tip of him to touch the glistening folds of her entrance. With her hand holding the base of his shaft, she hovered, relishing the sensation of the thick head pressing against her clit, opening her up, then popping out again.