by Simply BWWM
“Please, just tell me what’s going on,” Bradley said. “I promise there will be no judgment from me--I just want to make sure you’re good.” Jessica took a deep breath and met his gaze.
“I’m a sex addict,” she said, all at once. It was as if the words had tumbled out of her mouth before she was even ready to say them; Bradley saw her cheeks flush again, and she looked away for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “It’s never--directly--affected my job performance,” Jessica added, speaking more slowly. “But it’s why I left my last job, and why I moved to the other end of the country...and why I’ve been a little erratic lately.”
“Okay,” Bradley said, keeping his voice neutral in spite of the natural curiosity the admission piqued in him. “Could you explain that last one? If you feel comfortable.” He realized that it had to be something deeply personal--just telling him about her addiction was, surely. But what did her bathroom breaks have to do with her addiction? A tiny little tingle of what it could mean wriggled in his brain, but he dismissed it.
“So...I thought that it would be easier to be away from all the places I used to…” Jessica looked at her glass of wine and then met his gaze. “Away from where I’d formed some bad habits, basically.”
“Of course,” Brad said with a nod.
“God, this is…” Jessica licked her lips anxiously and picked up her glass of wine. She quickly drank down a third of it and then set the glass down once more. “So, one of my triggers for--let’s say--bad behavior is being attracted to someone I can’t have.” She smiled wryly. “It’s a stupid trigger, and I’m still trying to work on it…”
“Any trigger is valid,” Bradley said. One of his friends from Stanford--one of the few he’d retained--had gone into psychology after nearly destroying his own academic career, and specialized in addiction and post-traumatic stress. “So--correct me if I’m wrong--what you’re saying is that I’m...triggering you?”
“Not you, exactly,” Jessica said. “But...you being my boss, it kind of…” She took a deep breath and exhaled on a sigh. “The fact that I know I can’t do anything with you, it sort of...makes me want to do other things. Feed my addiction.” She shook her head, and Bradley saw tears gathering in her eyes. “So, instead of doing that, I’ve been sort of…”
“Handling it yourself?” Bradley kept his tone as carefully gentle as he could. Jessica nodded, swallowing hard.
“That was what I was doing the times you couldn’t get me at my desk,” she admitted. “Including this most recent time.” Bradley sipped his wine slowly, considering the predicament.
He was attracted to Jessica; clearly, she was suffering. She’d been masturbating in the bathroom pretty frequently--though not enough to get caught at it, exactly. He had a sudden insight as to what she’d been trying to hide in her hand when she’d seen him standing at her desk: some kind of sex toy. Bradley felt a little ribbon of heat unfurl through his body, ending up along his groin.
“Do you want to keep working for me?” Bradley set his glass down. “This isn’t a threat--what I mean is, if you’d rather work for someone else...someone who might not trigger your addictive tendencies, maybe, I could get you a job elsewhere.” Jessica shook her head.
“I do want to work with you,” she said. “I want to be in a stable job for at least a year--it’s kind of part of my recovery, you know?” Bradley nodded.
“Okay, so we’ll keep you working here,” he said. “But I have to tell you: masturbating on the clock is not going to be a tenable solution. I think you know that.” Jessica nodded.
“I know, I know,” she said, her voice tight with stress. “I...I guess I could see someone about medication.”
“That’s one possibility,” Bradley agreed. “But I think it would be good to look at all of the ways we can both help you keep your job here, and function without falling off the wagon--so to speak.”
Chapter7
Jessica looked at Holt, worried and hopeful in equal measures. “What do you mean?” Her boss smiled slightly, looking so understanding and so gentle that Jessica wanted to cry. When she’d seen him next to her desk, waiting for her, it had felt as if her heart had stopped for a few seconds, and then--as if to make up for the missed beats--as if it had started pounding at a thousand beats a minute.
She’d tried to make sure he wouldn’t see the vibrator in her hand, that she’d taken into the bathroom with her; when she’d sat down on the couch, she’d finally had the presence of mind to slip the little object under her thigh, but she hadn’t had any idea what she’d do when she had to leave Holt’s office once more, to keep him from knowing. Now, of course, that was pointless; he knew what she’d been doing.
“If what’s triggering you is the fact that you can’t do anything with me--and that’s making you want to do other things with other people, if I understand what you were hinting at…” Jessica nodded to confirm.
“That’s...yeah, that’s more or less what it is,” she admitted.
“Then, what if you could do things with me?” Jessica’s eyes widened, and she stared at him, feeling a kind of dread. Was Holt going to turn into yet another one of those men who found out she was an addict and decided to take advantage? The voice of her addiction murmured through her brain.
But that’s what you want, isn’t it? For him to treat you like the filthy, disgusting little slut you are? For him to use you as his own personal fuck-toy so you’ll feel good again? She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, trying to silence the voice. Holt cleared his throat. “Or would that only make things worse?”
“I--give me a second,” Jessica said quickly. She opened her eyes and found her glass of wine and drank the rest of its contents in a few quick gulps.
“If you need another glass of wine, I’ll get the bottle,” Holt said. Jessica smiled wryly.
“I don’t need to be drunk on the clock,” she told him. She took a breath and swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat. “What...what exactly are you suggesting?”
“If what’s triggering you is your inability to do things with me,” Holt said slowly, “then I was thinking that it might help you to have that ability. At least--I would hope--it would mean you aren’t so tempted to do the other, more self-destructive things. Is that right?” Jessica considered that for a moment.
“It...it might,” she said. She played with the wine glass, feeling nervous. “But it wouldn’t...you wouldn’t just...be making me like--like a sex slave, would you? Like...it wouldn’t be a condition of my staying employed here?”
“No! No, absolutely not,” Holt said quickly. “It would be strictly on your terms, when you need it.”
Jessica was stunned. “On my terms?”
Bradley smiled slightly.
“Of course, we can’t be at it all day, every day,” he said. “But we could come up with a signal--or a schedule, if that works better for you--and you could get what you need to keep focused, instead of taking care of it yourself.”
Jessica just stared at him for a moment, trying to absorb what her boss was offering. He was actually offering to have sex with her--on her terms, on her schedule, at her preferences--in order to help keep her from the temptation to have sex with strangers, triggering another sexual binge that would take her out of her recovery.
How could she trust that he wasn’t trying to take advantage of her? He’s already saying that it’s going to be on your terms, when you want or need it--within reason, obviously. That’s different from anyone you binged with before. The people that had abused her addiction--her codependents--had always made her take sex on their terms, their schedule. They took the power and forced her to demean herself in some way to get her “fix.”
“Do you think that will help you?” Jessica bit her bottom lip, pulled out of her thoughts by the question.
“And you won’t retaliate if I decide I want to stop?” She looked at him, feeling even more vulnerable than she had revealing her secret.
“Of course no
t,” Bradley said, frowning. “Maybe after a few times having sex with me, the allure won’t be there anymore, and you’ll be beyond the trigger.”
Jessica smiled. It was, in fact, possible; giving her what she really wanted might satisfy the physical aspect enough to get her through the craving for reckless, promiscuous sex with strangers. It wasn’t unlike the program they’d suggested in recovery literature: a system of accountability, a system where she could engage in sex healthily, with boundaries and limits. Clearly complete abstinence wasn’t working; maybe this would.
“In that case...I guess we can try it,” she said, feeling awkward.
“Do you want to start now? We have about an hour before anyone’s going to be in the office other than us,” Holt told her. Jessica’s heart beat faster in her chest.
“Right now?” Holt shrugged.
“No pressure--if your trip to the bathroom satisfied you, we can start whenever there’s space in the schedule and you have a need,” he said. It was like picking a lock--like that magical moment when the tumblers finally tilted over, releasing something deep inside the mechanism itself. Her shame evaporated, and her sense of danger went with it.
“I am definitely in need right now,” Jessica told her boss, feeling the dry feeling in her throat--and the much slicker, hotter feeling between her legs. She was still soaking wet from her bathroom detour, though she’d used a little bit of toilet paper to mop up some of her copious fluids.
“Why don’t we start with you showing whatever toy it was you were playing with in there?” Jessica’s cheeks burned, and she felt vulnerable again. She’d forgotten about the vibrator, tucked underneath her thigh to conceal it from his gaze. She swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat and lifted her thigh slightly, reaching under her leg and wrapping her fingers around the slim, plastic sex toy she’d bought specifically for away-from-home use. Jessica took a deep breath and slipped the toy out from under her leg, still holding it in such a way that it wouldn’t be readily visible for a moment, waiting until she had the nerve to actually show it to Holt.
Finally, she opened her hand to let him see it, and then reached out and placed it on the coffee table. It was bulbous, about the length of her hand, and could be inserted or just used on her clitoris--almost a covered figure eight in shape, though the two sections were not quite separate. Holt looked at the toy for a moment, and Jessica fidgeted slightly, waiting for the condemnation--or at least the degrading comment she was fairly certain would come.
“What were you thinking about when you were using it this time?” Jessica trembled slightly at the question--more because she wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t expecting something so neutral, and almost innocent, than anything else.
“I was thinking about you,” she admitted, feeling her whole face burning.
“Was I using this on you?” Holt rose to his feet slowly, and Jessica watched him, transfixed. He picked up the toy and seemed to examine it more closely, turning it over in his hand before looking at her. “Or was it just a way to play with yourself while you were thinking of me doing something else?” Jessica licked her lips.
“Both,” she said. She felt the hot, wet sensation along her labia as she became turned on once more, her inner muscles tightening in anticipation. What was Holt going to do to her?
“Do you want to show me?” Holt held her gaze, and Jessica’s heart beat even faster in her chest. She nodded, swallowing again against the tightness in her throat. “It’ll probably be easier if you’re naked,” he pointed out.
Jessica rose to her feet, hands trembling as she began to unbutton the front of her dress. She felt so nervous, and she wasn’t sure why; she’d stripped naked for more men than she could count, and almost always felt fully confident in herself doing it. She’d almost never even thought about it; getting naked was just a means to an end.
But with Holt watching her, with him knowing about her secret, it was like she was already naked, and taking her clothes off for him was just peeling off another layer of the tenuous security she’d gathered around herself. She worked her way down to the waist of her dress and then slipped the sleeves down over her shoulders, pushing the material past her hips and letting it fall to her feet, leaving her in her bra and panties and shoes.
“Let me help you,” Holt suggested, gesturing to her bra, and Jessica turned around, her back to him to let him undo it. She shook as she felt his fingertips brushing against her skin, between her shoulders, where the hook-and-eye closure of her bra was. She felt him unhook the closure of her bra, and then turned around to face him once more, the material loose against her sensitive skin. He gently lifted the straps of her bra, and then tugged the cups of the bra away from her breasts, and the cool hair brushing against Jessica’s nipples made them immediately begin to tighten and harden into little nubs.
“Thank you,” Jessica murmured, at a loss for something to say as the bra fell to the ground.
“Can I touch you? How did I start in your little fantasy?” Jessica blushed and looked away, gathering her courage once more.
“It was...pretty graphic,” she said.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, with you,” Holt suggested. Jessica took a breath, knowing that the movement made her breasts move--and seeing the way Holt looked immediately at the heavy, full mounds of flesh.
“I... you could start with groping me,” Jessica said. “Touching my tits and playing with them.”
“They are beautiful breasts,” Holt commented, reaching his hands up to cup them. Instead of the brutal squeezing and twisting and rough play that Jessica had come to expect from the men she slept with, Holt touched her gently, cupping her full breasts lightly and brushing his thumbs against her already-hardening nipples, making them tighten even more, sending little jolts of sensation seemingly straight to her pussy. “You are a beautiful woman, Jess,” Holt added. Jessica’s eyes stung, and she realized that she was going to start crying if she wasn’t careful.
“Can you--can you be rough with me? It’s easier.” Holt pulled his gaze away from her breasts and looked her in the eyes.
“Have you ever had someone just...worship you, Jess? Do everything to give you as much pleasure, to show you how much they want you, how great your body is, how great you are?” Jessica’s vision blurred, and she shook her head, her throat too tight to speak for a moment.
“No,” she said, once she was able to say something. Holt shook his head slowly.
“Then that’s what I think we should do--if that’s okay with you,” he suggested. Jessica felt strangely allured and horrified and terrified of the suggestion, all at the same time.
“You don’t just want to fuck me?” Holt reached up one hand and his thumb--every bit as light as it had been against her nipple a moment before--brushed beneath one of her eyes, wiping away the tear that had worked its way free to slide down her cheek.
“I want to help you stay sober and stay focused,” Holt explained. “I definitely am not against having sex with you--in fact, I feel like I’m incredibly lucky that this is what you want. But I don’t think that just fucking you senseless is going to work, do you? Isn’t that part of the behavior you identified as a problem?” Jessica nodded.
“I guess...I guess we could try,” she said. Holt smiled and leaned in, kissing her forehead.
“If you want to stop at any time, all you have to do is say it. I want to make one thing clear, though: I am not going to treat you like some piece of meat to fuck. Ever.” Jessica’s tears came more freely then, rolling down her cheeks in a steady flow. “Is this too much for you?” Jessica shook her head.
“No, no it’s good,” she said. “Boundaries are good.”
“You get them too,” Holt reminded her. “Any time you want to stop, even if I’m inside you, even if I’m two seconds from coming, you tell me, and I will stop right then.”
“That’s…”
“That’s how this is going to work,” Holt said, his voice firm. “If you let me hurt y
ou, if you let me harm you in any way, and I find out that you’ve done that...this deal ends. Okay?” Jessica nodded.
Holt leaned in and instead of kissing her forehead, he brushed his lips against hers, lightly at first and then, gradually, with more intensity. His hands came to life on her body, tracing over her curves, cupping her breasts with gentle care, teasing her nipples with feather-light touches until Jessica thought she might explode from the soft, delicate--yet overwhelming--sensations coursing through her veins.
It was so different from every sexual experience she’d ever had in her life; there was no demand on her, no grabbing hands trying to force her into the position that he wanted, none of the things that Jessica had gotten used to, and yet it wasn’t like Holt was detached either. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock when she pressed her body against his, straining at the front of his jeans—clearly, he was aroused. But he was more patient, more caring than any man she’d ever been with.
Somehow, she found herself gradually moving back, sitting, and then lying, on the couch on her back as Holt kissed and caressed her everywhere. He moved down over her body, from her lips to her neck, down to her chest, and Jessica moaned out as Holt’s lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking the hardened, aching nub into the hot wetness of his mouth before swirling the tip of his tongue around it. She writhed underneath him as Holt moved from one nipple to the other, sucking and licking, worshipping the tender, sensitive flesh with his mouth.
He continued down along her abdomen, and Jessica found herself trembling almost uncontrollably as Holt took his time, kissing and gently nibbling her skin. She felt as if every nerve in her body had been turned to its highest sensitivity, as if she could almost see--in color--the sensations that were happening to her as Holt worked his way to her pussy.
