Authors: Roxy Queen
Chapter 19
(Audrey)
Sex is my new obsession.
I’m obsessed.
I think about it before
I go to bed and when I wake up. I think about it in the car, at work, and on the way home. The exposure therapy has lit a fire under my skin, the touching and constant arousal, but never completion. Not with a partner. Not with Graham. I only find release with my fingers and the rocket.
There’s an elephant in the room. It’s silent but visible. Calm, but one look in its direction and
God knows what will happen. Will it erupt? Shrink from exposure? Come at me aggressively? Whatever we do, I can’t ignore it any longer.
Oh
, and in case my metaphor isn’t clear, it’s not an elephant, it’s a penis; and no matter how hard Graham tries, it’s unwilling to continue in its role as a passive participant.
We’re in the same position as last time, straddling the bench across from one another. I’
m shirtless (okay, I’m wearing a bra, but it’s thin.) He’s shirtless. My panties are on. So are his boxers. My nipples are erect and so is his cock. He hasn’t touched them yet. They’re eager, crawling through the fabric of my bra, but I’m scared. Shitless. I’m aware that one thing always leads to another; and this is the tip of the knife. I try to hide my fear behind calm breaths and steady hands; but my neck turns pink. When I’m nervous I itch, and then I scratch, leaving long, red streaks up and down my thighs from my nails.
Graham has his own tells. Tight eyes. Clenched jaw. The way his abdomen tenses. We’re both struggling in our own ways. I glance down and wonder…maybe this could go in another direction?
“Are you in pain?” I ask, breaking the tension.
His eyes lift from my chest and he arches an eyebrow. I point. “Down there.”
“No,” he lies. I raise my eyebrow to match his and he l
aughs, dimples appearing. “A little.”
I ease a little closer
, and say, “Is it against the rules for me to touch you?”
“Um. Well, uh…” He grapples for words. “
No, but, I’m not sure you should.”
“Why not
?”
“This is about your anxiety, not my discomfort.”
“Well, I’m getting anxious being the center of attention all the fucking time.”
His eyes grow wide
at my cursing. “We’re exposing you to your anxieties. What does touching me have to do with anything?”
I feel a flare of anger in my chest. “It has to do with the grand scheme of things. Exactly when do you plan on whipping that thing out?”
“When we reach that level.”
I cross my arms over my chest, covering everything up. “I’m ready now. We spend a lot of time focused on my body
, but you’re here, too. Eventually, I’m going to have to become comfortable with you before we get to the end zone. Dr. Markson agrees.”
His eyes narrow slightly and I know he’s considering it
, but he’s not completely swayed. I try again. “I know this is awkward. I’m topless and clearly a little aroused. You’re obviously more than a little…excited. How about I take this by the head, or well,” I laugh. Even I can tell how high pitched and hysterical my voice sounds. “Let me take you by the head and get this over with.”
He looks to the ceiling, seeming to be in some sort of internal battle. Finally
, he says, “Okay. You’re right. It’s not as if we’re not going there at some point. I trust that you’re ready.”
“I’m ready
,” I repeat, now feeling a slight wave of panic. “It’s time for me to meet the guy that’s been playing peek-a-boo at me for weeks now.”
We both laugh and it’s obvious that h
e’s not nervous; in fact, I’m still the one with shaking hands. I’m not sure how far I can go with this, but at least I’ve addressed it. Graham leans back on two hands, exposing the fine, dark hairs leading from his naval, under his shorts. I’d like to touch that hair to see if it feels as soft as it looks, or if it’s coarse like Dylan’s. I skip the hair this time, too intimate, and reach for his waistband, tugging down gently. The tip of his penis peeks out, red and swollen. I exhale proudly and look up. He appears calm and collected, other than the knot protruding near the back of his jaw.
I decide to take it a step further and reveal something I’ve wanted to say for a while. “When I go home after our sessions
, I’ve been using my…well, I call it my rocket. Does this happen to you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been taking
care of it.”
I nod and look back at his cock. With one fin
ger, I touch the tip. It’s warm and smooth. Alive. I graze my finger over the thin ridge separating the head and the shaft. He shudders in response. “I gave my first blow job when I was in high school. I almost puked. I’m not one of those girls who can eat or drink just anything. I have a pretty sensitive gag reflex.”
“Did you have the anxiety then?”
“No, because I’d never tried to have sex. Back then, I thought my nerves were normal. They were normal. Jittery school-girl nerves.” I stop there. I don’t want to talk about the anxiety because, well, it makes me anxious.
I touch him again
, this time smearing the oozing, clear fluid from the tip around in a circle. Through gritted teeth he says, “You seem pretty calm now.”
“You aren’t going to try anything. I know that. I trust you.”
That elicits a smile, a genuine one. I decide the elephant is out of the room now and cover his dick with his shorts. That’s it. I just needed to see it. Touch it and move on.
Scooting closer, I lean forward and fling my a
rms around him, pressing my chest into his. His strong arms wrap around my body and I lean my head into his shoulder. God, he feels good. Well, his arms do. His dick is trying to stab its way into my stomach.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away.
I shake my head and get off the bench. “No problem. I’m gonna change and go. Then you can take care of that.”
He leans back, for once not hiding his raging boner and I feel like we’
ve made progress. With his hair dipping into his eyes, he gives me a tight smile. I think we’ve come to some sort of even footing. It’s not all about me. Sex is never about one person.
I figure he’ll jerk off the minute I leave
. That’s something that often makes me uncomfortable. In the past, my boyfriends jerked off because I was freaking out. They had to get release somehow.
Now? It feels different. We’re in the same
boat. We’re live wires about to ignite. I don’t look for him when I leave the apartment. Instead, I commit that last image of him to my mind, the way his hands felt on my back and the weight of his arms around my shoulders. That’s what I’ll think about later that night when I’m alone with my fingers between my legs.
Chapter 20
(Graham)
I’ve barely cleaned myself up when Dr. Markson walks
into the apartment through the door from the office. “I got your text,” she says. “My client was just leaving so I thought I’d catch you before you left for the day.”
“Something came up today and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“With Audrey?”
“Yes,” I sit on the couch. “It’s nothing bad, I mean, in some ways it’s good. She’s taken your suggestion of being more assertive to heart, but I’m also worried about my own behavior.”
She studies me for a minute and I feel oddly transparent. After a moment she says, “Explain to me what happened and we’ll sort it out from there.”
So I tell Dr. Markson everything that hap
pened in my session with Audrey today, leaving out no necessary detail.
“You knew that at some point this would happen
; that she would pleasure you as well, correct?”
“Yes. I guess I thought I would be the one encouraging her, not the other way around. I feel sort of
…dirty about it.”
“Did she appear to feel coerced?”
“No, she had full control the entire time.”
“Then I think you have to view this as a new phase in the therapy program. You’re exposing Audrey to the joys of sex, how to manage intimacy without anxiety. She’s right, at some point she has to explore your body as well.
I’m impressed she took matters into her own hands.”
That she did. Small, cool hands that felt very, very nice. “How do you suggest I proceed from here?”
Dr. Markson looks over her glasses at me. “You keep going. Maybe a little give and take. Tit for tat. Don’t let her distract you from the primary goal, which is her own exposure; but let her have some control over the decisions you make. I would assume that in a typical relationship approaching her partner this way would be a lead-in for sex. That’s not something she’s ready for. Allow her to feel confident over these small steps. I think it may even accelerate your results.”
Her words ring true and at the very least
, I don’t feel like such a perv. “Okay. I think I have a better handle on how to proceed. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Graham.” She stands, pushing her long, gray braid over her shoulder. “Don’t feel guilty about the pleasure you receive from this. It’s no different from your other jobs. You’ve been paid before to submit and enjoy sex acts.”
She leaves the apartment and I lean back on the couch and rub my face with my hands. She’s right. I have been paid to have sex with women and enjoy it. Normally, I did enjoy it, it’s hard not to. The women are beautiful. We have a good time. Something about this though, something about Audrey, seems different from those other times, and I’m not sure why.
*
I stand at the refrigerator, door open, lost in thought about what happened between Audrey and me today and where we’ll go next. I can’t get the memory of her hands on my cock out of my head.
“Dude, close the door.”
“Huh?”
“What the hell are you doing?” Dave asks.
I shake the memory from my mind and grab four beers. “Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”
“Y
ou’ve been doing that all night and our guests have noticed.”
“
They’re your guests, not mine.”
“Yeah, but to get Rachel over here
, she had to bring a friend. Don’t worry, I told her and Cory that you’re celibate.”
“What? Why did you tell them that?”
“So you don’t look like a dick if Cory’s into you.” He takes two of the bottles from me. “Cory’s a psych major; she thinks the fact you’re doing it for an experiment is interesting. Oh, and she has a boyfriend anyway.”
Dave and I share a
two-bedroom house on the west side of campus. It’s a small, non-descript ranch, perfect for student housing. I found it when I moved here for grad school. Dave replied to my ad on the psychology department forum. So far, it’s worked out pretty well. He does the dishes, keeps the refrigerator stocked with beer, and pays rent on time. I walk into the living room and spot Rachel and Corey. Another bonus? He dates hot chicks, too.
Corey’s blonde and young.
She’s still an undergraduate. Her hair is cut short, almost boyish. It’s cute. Her tits are perky, playing coy out of the top of her tight, Tri-Delta T-shirt. She’s nice enough to spend the evening with, although she and Rachel talk a bit more about sorority life than I care to listen to. I asked if they’d been to see any of the local bands play or if they frequented any of the pool halls. They both stumbled around an answer, which was no. Five years ago, I would have nailed her, despite the lack of something in common. Boyfriend or not. Today? I’m not sure I would, even if I could break the contract for the experiment.
I take
the only free seat, next to Cory and hand her one of the beers. Four empty ones sit on the coffee table. Three of those are mine. I figure if I’m not getting laid then I may as well get drunk.
“Te
ll me more about your project,” she says after taking a couple pulls on her drink. “I’m majoring in psychology, but can’t decide if I want to get my masters in it or social work.”
I attempt to shoot Dave a dirty look for talking about the study, but
he has a hand on Rachel’s thigh and his eyes on her lips. Dammit. “It’s just something I’m working on with Dr. Markson.” I pick at the wrapper on the bottle, peeling away at a loose edge. “We’re testing exposure techniques.”
“On a client?”
“Yes. Patient Zero, as we call him/her has acute fear of penetration. We’re exposing this person to increasing levels of sexualization,” I explain a bit more about what this means and what we hope to achieve.
“So what’s your part in this?
”
I shouldn’t tell her
. It’s not in direct violation of the study, but we promised Audrey complete privacy. However, I’m not talking about Audrey. I’m talking about myself. “I’m part of the experiment. I test the subject.”
“No way. You’re like, using your body to acclimate her to
various levels of intimacy, ultimately having sex?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fascinating. How did you get involved in this?”
Ah, now I have to hedge. A lot. I never reveal my job as an escort. Only to my actual clients who have as much to lose as I do. I find my clients (not the other way around) on secure message boards
. When I heard about this study, I revealed myself to Dr. Markson. She’s the only exception. Even Dave doesn’t know the extent of my involvement with the women. He mostly thinks I do odd jobs and occasionally nail a desperate housewife. It’s not far from the truth, but far enough.
“I applied. There’s a small stipend. I needed the extra money.” I lean into the seat cushion, lifting my feet onto the table. “So why are you here, talking to me if you’ve got a boyfriend?”
“Rachel digs Dave. I’m her wing-woman.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t mind? Oh
, and you must have done a good job,” I say. I point to the empty spots where Rachel and Dave are no longer sitting. He must have talked her into going to his room.
“
My work here is done.” She laughs. “Not that it was going to be hard to convince her out of her pants. As for my boyfriend? No, he’s cool. Our relationship is pretty new anyway.”
I nod, feigning interest. I was just trying to
take the focus off myself. Cory makes a small squealing noise, and I look up. “You have Grand Theft Auto?” she says, gesturing to the gaming system.
“Yeah, want to play?
” She nods and I hop up to grab the controllers. We spend the rest of the night drinking beer, playing games, and ignoring the sound of Dave’s headboard slamming into the living room wall. It’s a good night.