by R. R. Banks
“Watch,” the man said to me. “Watch yourself.”
Feeling bolder, I looked into the mirror and watched as I explored myself. I felt the curves and dips of my petals, intoxicated by the combination of feeling intricacies of my body that I had never known were there while watching myself create the powerful pleasure. The more I touched, the more my body responded, offering up more of the silky fluids. I gathered them with my fingertips to allow them to move more easily as I experimented with different patterns and pressures to create different sensations. I was learning myself, finding things that I enjoyed that I had never known, and stirring feelings within myself that were beyond anything that I had ever experienced. A compulsion washed over me and I brought two fingers down to press them inside me. I felt the heat and wetness of my walls around my fingers and I plunged them deeper, enjoying the slight stretch they caused.
I could feel tingling heat sweeping over my skin as my breath grew faster and more shallow. I wanted to close my eyes and give myself over completely to the sensations that I was feeling, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to miss watching for even a second. Pressure was building through my hips and stomach, and I pressed my thighs further apart, opening myself more and allowing my fingers to go deeper. I turned my hand slightly so that I could touch the pad of my thumb to my clit. It took only seconds of stroking for all of the pressure within my body to surge up until it was almost unbearable and then it crashed. I screamed at the powerful explosion of sensation and pressed my fingers as hard into myself as I could, feeling my walls spasming frantically around them.
This was something that I had never felt, an all-encompassing, breathtaking experience that seemed to bring me out of myself yet connected me more with my body than I had ever been. As my body relaxed and I felt the contractions slow and stop, I let my fingers slip out and my hand rest against my thigh. My eyes drifted closed and I concentrated on the rhythm of my heart and my breaths evening out again.
I didn’t know how long I reclined there, but when I opened my eyes again, there was a warm damp cloth and a fresh towel beside me and the man was gone. I took my time to freshen up and get dressed, then started back down the path toward the main cottage at a faster pace. Fawn was sitting beside the vegetable garden, slowly watering the pumpkin vine. She looked up as I approached.
“I’m in,” I said breathlessly.
A smile came to Fawn’s lips and she stood.
“Do you know your fantasies yet?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “But I want to know.”
“Alright. Then we’ll try a little of everything. How many men would you like me to find for you?”
I thought about her question for a moment. My mind felt clear but also like it was rushing, spinning as I contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead of me. I remembered what Robin told me and felt a smile come to my lips. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.
“Seven.”
Chapter Nine
Snow
“Seven?” Fawn asked. “I arrange dates every two weeks. Are you prepared for that type of investment?”
She sounded surprised at the declaration, and I had to admit, I was a bit surprised at myself. The answer had just come out of me without me thinking through what it really meant for me to commit to three months of going down the road of being truly dirty. Now that I had said it, though, and heard Fawn repeat it to me, I knew that I was making the right decision. The thought of what I had experienced in the other cottage sent another thrill of arousal and desire through me and I felt my body starting to heat up again. If I could create this type of feeling in myself, I wanted to know what it was like to let a man explore my body the same way and nurture it beyond what I could accomplish on my own. The realization was powerful, finally helping me to understand exactly what Fawn had meant when she insisted that this experience was all about me.
“Yes,” I told her. “Is that alright?”
“That is more than alright. I always appreciate when my guests are truly committed to the experience and what they can achieve here.”
“Good,” I said, feeling a sense of relief just knowing that I had made the decision and given myself over to the possibilities ahead.
“Now, I have to be honest with you. I have strict rules and regulations when it comes to how I manage this retreat and the experiences that happen here. I will give you a contract and you will be bound to it and its expectations. The most important is anonymity. I’ve already told you that the men will each plan fantasy dates for you and that their personal lives don’t matter. This is not just a platitude. They, too, have signed contracts agreeing not to discuss their personal lives in any way that does not directly connect with the date. The contracts on both ends will also include agreeing that you will not attempt contact or to spend additional time with each other outside of your assigned and appointed date. You are not to share last names, in fact the men will utilize aliases, and you will not exchange any form of contact information. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said.
While part of me felt as though I should have been bothered by the restrictiveness of Fawn’s contract, I couldn’t help but be relieved by it. Not being able to make any personal connections with the men meant that I was going to be able to focus entirely on myself and what I was going to be able to get out of each date. No names. No connection. No emotions. No people-pleasing. Just indulgence, fun, and sex.
My mouth watered at the thought and I couldn’t wait to get started.
“Did you think about the fantasies that you would like fulfilled?”
I tried to think, tried to bring my brain to a place where I could imagine fantasies, but I couldn’t. The truth was that I had never thought about it. Maybe that was part of the reason that I had never experienced the type of satisfaction and pleasure that Robin had always talked about. I felt like I should have been embarrassed to admit it, but at the same time, Fawn struck me as the kind of person who would never judge. She was there specifically to help me and if I was open and honest with her, she would. I shook my head.
“I have no idea.”
“Alright,” she said. “Then I will create a sampler for you.”
“Like a box of assorted doughnuts.”
Fawn smiled.
“So much better.”
“Then I will take the sampler.” I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how exactly to phrase the question that I had on the tip of my tongue. “These men,” I finally said, “how many other women have they been…assigned to?”
“None,” Fawn told me, her face suddenly serious. “Each man that I bring into the retreat is only assigned to one woman. I maintain a database of applications and background information for men who are interested in being a part of the experience, and when a woman comes here, I select the men who correspond to her needs.”
“Are they actors?”
I wasn’t sure if that idea bothered me or not. On one hand, it seemed that professional actors would be able to make the experience as realistic as possible, but on the other it could end up being incredibly awkward and part of me hated the idea of feeling like I was being pandered to.
“Absolutely not,” Fawn told me. “Even though your experiences with these men are limited, I can assure you that everything that happens is completely by choice. They are not given instructions for what to do or say or how to interact with you. These are real men and the time that you spend together is as real as if the two of you met in a bar or through friends or on a dating app. The only thing that’s different is that you know these men have been carefully screened, are safe, and know that they are there for you rather than trying to get anything for themselves out of the date. Of course, that doesn’t mean that they won’t enjoy having sex with you if you choose.”
“If I choose?”
Fawn looked at me strangely.
“Of course. This is your experience, Snow. Just because t
he men will be chosen for you doesn’t mean that you have to do anything with them. You might not be attracted to them. You might not like their personality or the date that they bring you on. If that’s the case, that’s fine. You just let them know that you are done for the day and they will bring you back here and leave. No hurt feelings. No negative thoughts. This is stress relief and personal discovery, not an obligation. If you are interested, however, you can do, say, and experience anything that you please with these men. They will only say and do what is natural and real for them, so you can trust the authenticity of every moment that you spend with them.”
“When is my first date?”
Fawn smiled again.
“It will take me a little time to go through the men I have on file and select the ones who are right for you. For the next day or two, I invite you to stay here, relax, enjoy some pampering. When I have chosen your first date, I will let you know.”
I liked the sound of just enjoying the retreat for a couple of days, even if the anticipation of meeting the first man who Fawn chose for me might keep me from really being able to relax. Fawn and I spoke for a few more minutes about my taste in men and the types of activities I enjoyed. After giving her what was likely far less information than she would have wanted, I headed back to my room. I felt suddenly tired, as if the tension that was coiled tightly within me had started to release, leaving me relaxed but sleepy. When I stepped into my room the man who brought me my breakfast and who had been in the cottage was placing a large platter of fruit on the table. I immediately felt heat come to my cheeks thinking about our brief interaction in the cottage, but he didn’t react as though anything had happened between us. I didn’t know how to react to him or if I should mention our brief but powerful encounter. The longer that he went without acknowledging the cottage, the more I started questioning if it had even happened and soon I came to the conclusion that I must have imagined him there.
Or it was another man and I just superimposed this man’s face onto him.
“Thank you,” I said as he finished arranging the platter and straightened to start toward the door.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I hope you enjoy it.”
He stepped past me, but I called out to stop him just before he left the room.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He turned and looked at me as if he wasn’t sure that he had actually heard me ask the question.
“Noah,” he finally said.
“Hi, Noah,” I said. “I’m Snow.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
He started for the door again.
“Everything has been really delicious,” I said.
Noah turned and I saw a slight sparkle in his vibrant green eyes. He gave a single nod.
“I’m glad that you liked it,” he said.
There was a short pause and then he turned and left. It was reassuring to know his name. At least there was a sense of connection now that made it somewhat less strange that he came into my room several times a day. Not to mention the delectable long lick that made me tremble even though I was still trying to put it out of my mind.
For the next two days, I spent my time relaxing in my room, reading through some of the books that were displayed on a shelf across from the bed, and visiting the spa rooms that I discovered positioned throughout the cottage. Though I tried to keep myself distracted, every few minutes I found myself thinking about the date that was coming. I didn’t know what to expect. Fawn had told me that I would find out about my date soon before it happened and that I should just go along with the information and instructions that I received. That was a somewhat intimidating suggestion, but I agreed. I had already committed myself to going through with this every step of the way and I figured that that meant letting myself get taken away by whatever date the men had planned for me.
I was starting to feel as though Fawn had gone through what paltry information I was able to give her and decided that she wasn’t going to be able to help me when I finally heard a quick knock on my door. I knew that it couldn’t be Noah, since he never knocked and had a few times now walked in on me in partial undress or while I was in a bath. Feeling suddenly nervous, I hesitated to approach the door. Finally, I took a few steps toward it and turned the handle. A large white box sat on the floor with a note secured to the top with red ribbon. I leaned down to pick it up and scurried back into my room, closing the door quickly as if protecting whatever it was that was waiting for me in the box. Settling onto the edge of the bed, I rested the box beside me and slipped the envelope out from under the ribbon. I opened the envelope and pulled out a thick white notecard.
“Take me out to the ballgame.”
“That’s it?” I asked the card.
I tossed it aside and untied the bow so that I could take the top off of the box and look into it.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
I felt incredibly ridiculous walking out of the cottage in preparation for a date wearing the black stretch pants, tight white tank top, miniature baseball jersey, and tennis shoes that had been waiting for me in the box. Usually getting ready for a date would have required hoping that I would fit into a dress, squeezing into heels that might be too tight but looked too good for it to matter, and teasing my hair to the point that it may justify turning me into the antibullying groups. It was an ordeal that took a few hours. Preparing for this date took less than half an hour, several minutes of which were taken up trying to keep a curl in my ponytail. There was a somewhat anticlimactic feel to stepping out of the cottage now, as if I had built myself up so much for this elaborate fantasy date and now didn’t feel like my sprucing-up ritual had really justified the date.
The same white limo that had picked me up from my house to bring me to The Enchanted Woods was waiting for me outside and I allowed the chauffer to help me into the back seat. We drove away from the cottage without him saying anything and I let the silence remain for several minutes.
“Have you worked for Fawn for long?” I finally asked.
“Six years.”
“So, she doesn’t cycle out drivers like she does dates.”
I had meant it more to myself, but he heard me.
“No.”
“Have you ever brought another woman to a date like this?” I asked.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Oh, good.”
I turned and looked out the window, watching the scenery as it went by. We left the quiet peacefulness of the wooded area around the cottage and started down a larger road that quickly turned into a highway. We had been traveling for nearly half an hour when we entered the city and turned onto a smaller street that led into the back lot of a minor league baseball stadium. The limo pulled to a stop and I suddenly felt a flock of butterflies swarm into my belly. They flew around frantically, some seeming to try to get up my throat. I didn’t want to get out of the car. As long as I stayed right where I was, all of this could stay just a fantasy, just an abstract idea of something that I could do to improve myself. I wouldn’t actually have to face the man who was waiting for me or push myself out of my comfort zone as much as I had promised myself, and Fawn, that I was going to do.
The door to the limo opened and the chauffeur peered in at me.
“We’re here,” he said.
I nodded.
“I noticed.” I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Alright. Here I go.”
I stepped out of the car and looked toward the stadium.
“Lee will be waiting for you inside,” the driver said.
“Thank you.”
I started toward the stadium feeling slightly unsteady on my feet. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had even been to a baseball game much less did any type of activity that involved baseball. The outfit that was sent to me was worrisome and I had the sinking feeling that I was going to be expected to participate in something athletic. I crossed the small amount of the parkin
g lot and passed through the first arched door that I saw. It led me into a wide corridor studded with concessions stands and merchandise booths all advertising the local team. There was an eeriness about how empty and quiet the stadium was and I felt glued to my spot. A few moments later I heard the slight crackle of an announcement system coming on.
“Good evening, Snow. I will meet you at the beer stand.”
Elegant.
I was feeling that I might need to take advantage of Fawn’s reminder that what happened on the date was up to me and that I could request to go back to the retreat at any time when I turned the corner and in the direction that the signs on the wall sent me and saw the man standing in front of the beer stand. Clad in the tight pants and buttoned jersey of a baseball uniform, he was leaned back against the counter with a tall cup of beer in either hand. He held one out to me as I approached.
“My name is Lee,” he said as I took the beer from him.
I knew that that wasn’t his real name. It was an alias that had been assigned to him by Fawn. It fit him, though, and it didn’t even occur to me to wonder what his real name might be. It did, however, make me wonder why Fawn insisted that the men change their names but she was permitted to keep hers.
“Snow,” I said, accepting the beer. “Thanks.”
He gave a single nod and brought his own cup to his lips for a sip. I followed his lead, sipping some of the malty foam into my mouth first and then tipping the cup further to take a full sip. It was a darker brew than I would have expected to be sold at a baseball stadium, but I supposed things might have changed in the years that it had been since I had been anywhere near such a stadium. I took another sip and then brought the cup down to hold it in front of me, staring at him expectantly. I knew that he was supposed to have planned a date for us, and I hoped that standing in an empty stadium drinking beer wasn’t it.
