Candid Confessions of a Shameless Sexaholic...Part One: Just What The Doctor Ordered (5 page)

Karen pressed a
button on the vibrator and it started to buzz softly. She placed the monster
between my breasts and began to caress my boobs with it. I liked the feeling. I
liked it a lot. In my book, nothing will ever quite replace the feel of a real
dick, but this came pretty close. She dragged the beast down my stomach,
tracing circles that made me flinch with pleasure, then buried it deeply and
not too gently between my legs. Ooh, this was big...very big! Bigger than Sven,
bigger than any man I could remember. And as it buzzed and throbbed inside me,
I felt a whole new kind of sensation, one that is hard to describe, but which
was very enjoyable. I wanted more. I arched my back, spread my legs and allowed
the black beast to penetrate deeper inside me. Then Karen pulled it out slowly,
and traced it over my pussy lips and my clit, sending me into orgasm once
again.

We made love for
an hour, but it seemed to be over in a few moments. Before I knew it, I was
rushing to get dressed and get back to the office before they started sending
out search parties. In the taxi on the way back, I wondered what I was going to
say to Vanessa. I had certainly got some more material, but most of it was not
exactly material I could use. More importantly, I found myself wondering what
Brad would make of our encounter if he knew about it. I was puzzled as to why
that bothered me. I mean, it wasn’t as if we were dating or anything...not much
chance of that! But somehow I cared about what he thought of me.

What the hell
was wrong with me? Caring was not something I was particularly good at. I
didn’t have the genes. Maybe I was changing. Now there’s a scary thought.

***

The next few days disappeared in a haze
of busy work. Setting up interviews, organizing photo shoots, checking contact
sheets, reading proofs and all the hectic work that piles up when an issue is
due to go to print. No matter how much you try to prepare these things, there
are always problems that result in you working until midnight to catch up - a
freelance writer misses a deadline, product for a photo shoot goes missing,
some legal issue comes up...it’s always a nightmare. But by Friday, we had
finally put the issue to bed, and I was looking forward to a nice relaxing
weekend before it all started again on Monday.

I was busy
clearing my desk ready for the weekend, when I heard a voice calling from the
doorway.

‘The weekend is
here...time to be out of here!’

I looked up to
see Brad standing in the doorway, grinning. I felt a shudder inside, which I
managed to repress, and I even managed to reply without squeaking.

‘Yes, I’m done
for the week. Just clearing my desk. What about you?’

‘I had a few
things to drop off at the office here. And I wondered if you might have time
for a drink before weall head for home. It’s a beautiful evening, after all.
Are you free?’

It certainly was
a beautiful day. Sydney is beautiful all day long, but during the late
afternoon early evening period, something magical happens to the light.
Everything looks more stunning than ever, the colours seem deeper and richer,
and it just feels good to be alive. An hour or two spent sitting on a terrace
with a glass of wine and a rich, handsome dude for company certainly sounded
appealing. There were certainly worse ways to spend a Friday evening than
watching the sun set over the harbour and enjoying some intelligent conversation.
My diary for the evening was pretty much clear – OK, it was a vast expanse of
nothingness – but I wasn’t going to tell Brad that. I wanted to sound like I
had some kind of a life.

‘Well, I had a
couple of things planned, but they can wait until later. So I have a couple of
hours free.’

‘Excellent!
We’ll go whenever you are ready.’

Half an hour
later, we were seated outside a café in Darling Harbour, enjoying the fading
light and the sound of happy city workers all around us, everyone enjoying the
special buzz of Thank God It’s Friday. There were plenty of well-dressed city
guys around, but Brad stood out as being a cut above the rest in his tailored
suit and hand-made shirt. I had to be careful not to gawp and make a fool of
myself, so I tried to think of something to say.

            ‘I’ve started on the
interviews,’ I began. But Brad shook his head.

            ‘Let’s not talk about work,’
he said. ‘It’s the weekend…all that can wait until next week. Why don’t you
tell me a little more about you?’

            He leaned forward as if he
was genuinely interested, not just some guy feigning interest in order to get
his leg over. That was a first. I felt myself blushing and hoped it was dusky
enough for him not to notice.

            ‘There’s not much to say,’ I
offered, rather pathetically.

            ‘Now, I don’t believe that.
I am sure there would be some amazing stories to tell if I could read your
mind.’

            Gulp! I didn’t want him or
anyone else reading my mind. I could probably be arrested for over-use of the
male population or something. And him a sex therapist, too…I could probably provide
him with enough material for a whole series of seminars and a bestselling book
or two. I smiled politely and fluttered my eyelashes. That usually works, but
Brad was a tough nut to crack.

            ‘You said you are single,’
he continued. ‘I find that hard to fathom. What’s the matter with the guys in
this town…don’t they know a real beauty when they see one?’

            I know I shouldn’t fall for
such obvious lines, but I’m a sucker for flattery. I just lap it all up. Compliments
where get you everywhere with me. I giggled and waited hopefully for another
compliment. I wasn’t disappointed.

            ‘I’m sure you will make some
lucky man very happy one day,’ he said gravely.

            Making men very happy was my
speciality, but possibly not in the sense he intended. I tried to imagine
myself settling down with one guy and living happily ever after. Happily ever
after? With the same dick for the rest of your life? I considered that a rather
scary prospect. It would be like going on vacation to exactly the same place
every year. I know plenty of people do that, but those kinds of people are
already dead inside. I didn’t want to join them. But then again, looking at
Brad now, I could see that the idea had its appealing side, too. I mean, if it
was someone like him, good looking, successful and loving, maybe it could
work….

…could it?

It’s a good job
Brad couldn’t read my mind, because at that moment, I was mentally exploring
the contents of his underpants. He was a tall man…did that mean that things were
proportionately large in other departments? What would a world-leading expert
on sex be like on the sack? It sure would be interesting to find out. But it
didn’t seem likely that I would get the opportunity. After all, for all his
compliments, I was well aware that I wasn’t in his league. I must look like a
trashy office girl compared to the sophisticated women in his usual circles.

I was miles
away, following my own train of thought. Then I realized that Brad’s voice had
stopped. I realized he had asked me a question, and was now politely waiting
for an answer. Bollocks. I had absolutely no idea what he had been talking
about. Now I was going to make a complete fool of myself by sitting there
gulping like a goldfish. Brad smiled at me.

‘So what do you
think…yes or no?’

That helped. Now
he had narrowed it down to a 50:50 choice.

‘Yes, of
course!’ I said enthusiastically, wondering what the hell it was that I had
agreed to.

‘That’s
fantastic,’ he smiled. ‘Most women refuse that offer flat! But I suspected you
wouldn’t scare so easily. I think you will find it to be an amazing
experience…better than sex!

I can pick you up tomorrow morning at
nine, so that we can be on site a little after ten. Remember to wear
comfortable shoes and bring something to tie your hair up with. I’ll take care
of everything else.’

            The sun dropped behind the
horizon, but I barely noticed. I was too busy wondering what the hell I had got
myself into. Anything that was better than sex had to be worth trying. But why
did most women turn the offer down flat? There was no way I could ask Brad
about it now without making a complete fool of myself. I would just have to
play it by ear. It couldn’t be that bad…

…could it?

After a while, I
excused myself on the grounds that I had to meet my friends for our
pre-arranged meeting. I needed some time to figure out how I was going to deal
with the next day’s mysterious adventure.

When I got back
to my apartment and explained what had happened, Ellen practically collapsed on
the floor laughing. And she is supposed to be my best friend. The bitch. Between
us, we tried to work out what the day’s activity might be. Something that
required comfortable shoes and tied-up hair, and which scared the crap out of most
women. Ellen’s best guess was abseiling. I hoped not…I’m scared of heights,
remember. And in any case, abseiling is hardly better than sex…is it?

By the time we
decided to call it a night, I was still puzzled, and Ellen was still laughing. I
made a mental note to find a way to get my revenge when this was over. I
didn’t’ sleep very well. I had a recurring nightmare about being stuck half way
up a cliff tied to an abseil rope, unable to go up or down. I told myself that
at least that was the worst thing that could happen. Whatever Brad had in mind,
it surely couldn’t be any scarier than that.

Oh, boy, was I
wrong…

Saturday morning dawned with clear skies
and warm sunshine. I got up and showered, still thinking apprehensively about
the day ahead.

           
It’s better than sex…it’s
better than sex…it’s better than sex…

            I kept repeating this mantra
over and over again. It’s the only thing that kept me going. Either Brad had a
pretty warped idea of what constituted fun, or this was going to be an awesome
day. Brad didn’t appear to be warped. In fact, he was the least warped person I
had ever met. But I was still nervous.

            I dressed in what I thought
were sensible clothes – jeans, T-shirt and a light jacket. I tied my hair back
in a pony tail, and put on a pair of Nikes. I looked at myself in the mirror
and couldn’t decide if I liked what I saw or not. It wasn’t the look I would
have chosen for a date with a hot guy, but on the other hand, I did look kind
of cute in a sensible way. Ellen had breakfast with me, and did her best to
keep a straight face. But she couldn’t hold it, and half way through her bowl
of Nutri-grain she burst out laughing.

            ‘Angel, I’m sorry…but you
just don’t look like you without high heels and a skirt that shows your
knickers. I pretended to be above such comments.

            The doorbell rang on the
stroke of nine, and Ellen leaped ahead of me to open it. She wanted to have a
perv at this new man in my life to see what she was missing out on. That was
OK. I knew she would be jealous when she saw Brad, and I was right. When she
opened the door, he was standing there in khaki trousers and a white
polo-necked shirt – a very different look to his professional appearance, but hotter
than any guy I had seen Ellen dating. Ha ha! She asked him in, and turned to
give me a nod of approval. I still had no idea whether today constituted a
date, or more of a ‘getting to know a colleague’ business deal. But Ellen was
jealous, and that’s all that counts, really.

            Ellen offered him a coffee,
but he politely pointed out that we needed to get moving. A few minutes later,
we were out in the street, heading towards his car. I looked for the Bentley,
and so was surprised when he paused next to a brand-new Toyota Land Cruiser. He
pressed a key fob and the lights flashed as the doors unlocked with a thunk.
The rear of the vehicle was packed with various bulging green and khaki bags.
Maybe Ellen was right. Abseiling seemed a real possibility.

            ‘Jump in,’ he said. ‘There
will be some traffic to start with, but once we are south of the city, it
should be an easy ride.’

            South of the city? What the
hell was to the south of the city…about an hour’s drive away? As Brad drove, I
watched the signposts flicking by, trying to get a feel for where we were
heading. Canberra…the nation’s capital? I hoped not. Canberra is probably the
most boring city in Australia. Anyway, it was too far away. The Southern Highlands
perhaps? The Shire? No, too close. Not the Blue Mountains, they were out West.

            I didn’t find out for sure
until we were driving through the streets of Woollongong, a pleasant seaside
town that I had never visited before. No reason to…nothing happened there that
I was aware of. It seemed to be a pleasant enough town, but I knew nothing at
all about anything interesting that happened down there. So why were we here?
Jeez…I felt so stupid.

            ‘Are you nervous?’ Brad
asked.

            ‘Um…just a little,’ I
answered cautiously.

            ‘No need to be...it’s as
safe as houses. And I will be with you all the way.’