“Relax,” he whispered.
I took a deep breath as the tip of his finger teased, pushing in very gently, and then slowly pulling out, back in a little further. The fluttering in my stomach intensified, my clitoris throbbed harder with each insertion. The more I relaxed, the more I Ioved what he was doing.
The dark haired man pulled the woman up by her hips, so she knelt on the chaise. He stood directly behind her. I watched as he ran his hand down her back, over her backside, and I wondered if he was going to the do same as Mackenzie.
The blond man returned, and I saw him hand over a small container, the contents of which were squirted onto her and over his cock. I watched him run the tip over her backside before gently pushing into her. He leaned over her as he fucked her arse.
But it was the sight of the blond man, as he did the same to his partner, which threw me over the edge. As Mackenzie fingered my arse, he pushed his cock inside me. And I watched one man fuck another, while the first fucked the woman.
I screamed out. I gripped the arm of the chair so hard, my nails dug into the leather. The sounds of skin on skin, of moans and cries of pleasure coming from the other room echoed around my head, competing with the white noise. My arousal was off the scale, every nerve ending screamed: my fingers, toes, even my scalp tingled as static coursed over my skin. My nipples ached with their hardness.
My stomach clenched at the sound of Mackenzie, growling out my name. He pulled his finger from my arse. I wanted to tell him not to. One hand held my hips, his nails digging in and breaking my skin; the other wrapped in my hair and pulled my head up. He fucked me harder than he ever had.
Tears ran down my cheeks. I felt so light-headed as I came, I could no longer hold myself up; my legs shook. I was thankful when I heard Mackenzie shout out as he came himself.
Then I passed out.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep. My eyelids felt puffy and sticky when I tried to open them. More tears ran down my cheeks.
“Shush, baby,” I heard. I felt emotionally drained.
Mackenzie was dressed and sitting on the bed beside me. I glanced quickly towards the window thankful to see the curtains closed.
“It’s okay,” he said.
At first I couldn’t speak. I lay on my side, still naked, with Mackenzie stroking my hair.
“Can you talk to me?” he whispered.
I nodded my head.
“Why did that turn me on so much? What’s wrong with me?” I said, unable to stop the hitch in my voice. I was so confused.
I tried, but failed, to stop the images of what I’d witnessed flooding my mind.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Lauren. You’re exploring your boundaries, finding yourself right now.”
“I don’t know that I like what I find though.”
“Then you don’t need to explore anymore.”
“But that’s the point. Watching them aroused me, beyond belief. I’m so confused,” I whispered, not making eye contact.
“Look at me,” he said. I raised my face.
“How do you feel, truly feel inside? I’m not talking about arousal, I’m talking about you as a person.”
I sighed and licked my lips. “Alive. I don’t feel dull, uninteresting.”
“Then you are halfway to finding out who you are, what you want, and what you like.”
“And then what?”
That was the million-dollar question. What happened when I’d found myself? What happened to Mackenzie and me?
He didn’t answer; I guessed I didn’t expect him to.
I was thankful for the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. Like a hotel it had a selection of towels and Bulgari toiletries. I took a quick shower, careful not to wet my hair and redressed.
“So, what do we do now?” I said, as I sat on the bed beside him while he tied his shoelaces.
“We can get a drink, or we can go home?”
“Do people stay here, overnight?”
“They can, though not in these rooms. They have accommodation in the grounds.”
“Have you stayed here?”
“Yes.”
“What did…? No, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know.”
“I will answer any question you want, if I think you can handle that answer. I’m not sure you can right now. It’s a conversation for another day.”
He stood and held out his hand.
“One thing, you, and the blond man…was that rehearsed?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Removing clothes at the same time.”
He chuckled a little. “No, I imagine I was a split second behind him. I think us men tend to only have one routine and we stick to it. It’s why I asked for loose clothing, they’re easier, and quicker, to get off.”
I stood and allowed him to lead me to the bedroom door.
“What if we bump into them?”
“They don’t know who was in the room. Would you like me to poke my head around the door and check they’re not leaving?”
“Please.”
He looked at me. “I was kidding. If we happen to leave at the exact same time, thank them for a wonderful evening.”
****
I remembered getting into the car, and then I was shaken awake and found we’d arrived at my apartment block.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Three.”
“Fuck!”
“At least you don’t have to get up early,” he said.
He’d parked the car near the door to the lifts. He climbed out and walked around to my side. Once again, he helped as I joined him. We took the lift to my floor and I opened the door to my apartment. I expected him to walk in behind me but he hadn’t.
“I need to get home,” he said gently.
“Oh, okay.” I wasn’t sure what to say really.
He took a step over the threshold and placed his hands either side of my head.
“You were stunning tonight,” he whispered.
“I’d like you to stay.”
“I wish I could. I have a very early Skype meeting. In fact, in about an hour and a half.”
We stood in silence for a moment and he just stared at me. I felt the spark between us; I thought I saw it in his eyes, but I was too scared to say anything.
“I can smell myself on your hands,” I whispered.
He leaned forward until his mouth was near my ear.
“And that’s why I didn’t shower. I want to smell you for as long as possible.”
He gave me a gentle kiss and then he was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
I didn’t go straight to bed. I sat for ages with a cup of tea at the kitchen table and watched the sun begin to rise instead.
I thought on what Mackenzie had said, I was finding myself. I was discovering what aroused me, what I had been missing out on after spending years of being with one man: a man who had no sense of adventure.
I just needed to decide if the person I was discovering was someone I liked. I certainly enjoyed the experience, although I was left confused. I guessed I was conditioned to not want that, to find it disgusting or perverted even. I’d read the sexy novels, thankful I had a Kindle, so others couldn’t see what I was reading. I’d even gone to the extreme of changing the cover on a hardback once. I’d been jealous of the female characters, as irrational as that was. Experiencing it, in real life, was exciting and terrifying, shameful and uplifting, I wanted to stop; yet I wanted to continue.
I’d never seen two men have sex though, and it was that, which aroused me more.
I sent a text.
BDSM, what do you know about it?
Mackenzie’s reply was almost immediate, and then I remembered he’d be in his online meeting.
Why?
Because that’s next on my list.
I turned off the phone, not expecting a reply and headed to the bedroom. I stripped off my clothes and naked, climbed under the covers. I slept until
mid-afternoon.
****
The first thing I did when I woke was to turn on my phone. Mackenzie had replied.
BDSM – Google it, then decide. You did not witness BDSM, just a small part of it.
I did as he asked. I opened the laptop and Googled. Pages and pages of information came up. Some, the extreme elements such as being led around on all fours by a dog lead, did nothing for me. Others, like the St. Andrew’s cross, the flogger, the spanking bench even, produced that bubble of excitement I was getting addicted to.
I closed down the tabs and thought. Exactly what was it I wanted?
I didn’t want to be a submissive, I didn’t want to be collared and have to call Mackenzie ‘Master’ or some other shit. But I did want the restraint; I wanted to feel those leather cuffs against my skin and be held in one position. I wanted to feel the painful pleasure, and the heat my skin would produce after the sting of being flogged. I wanted Mackenzie to take complete control of my body, of my mind, and of my soul.
I will not fall for him, I reminded myself.
I was under no illusion it would hurt. I was also confident I could handle it. I kept an image of the pleasure on the woman’s face in my head, as I texted back.
Okay, maybe not full-blown BDSM, but what I saw is what I want. Not the men, the flogger and cross.
That time he didn’t reply and I smiled. The game was on.
****
My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet. I decided to take a walk to the local deli and stock up the fridge. I grabbed my keys and debit card then headed out. It was a sunny afternoon and the usual tourist activity was in flow on the riverbank. I smiled as I walked and it surprised me to receive smiles in return. If only those people knew what I was thinking about. I laughed out loud.
The deli was a place where I could spend hours. Although small, it housed an array of foods, wine, coffees, and artisan products. It also reminded me that I’d never collected my coffee from Mackenzie. I purchased more. When my basket was full and I’d paid, I took a slow stroll back to the apartment.
I opened the French doors onto the small balcony and allowed the breeze to waft through. I prepared something to eat and took that, and my Kindle, outside.
I tried to read but thoughts of the club ran through my mind. More importantly, thoughts of what Mackenzie had done at the club. I wanted to ask him. He’d said if he thought I could handle the answers he’d tell me. Could I?
What could he tell me that I wouldn’t want to hear? He’d fucked other women? That I could handle. He’d been the one holding the flogger? My stomach tightened at that thought. Threesomes? We’d sort of already done that.
At the thought of the woman, my stomach tightened further.
As the sun started to lower, a chill crept over me. I took my plate and Kindle back inside. Once I’d poured myself a glass of wine, I settled on the sofa to watch some crap Saturday night TV. Like the Kindle, not much kept my interest for more than a few minutes. I flicked from channel to channel, watching a few minutes before becoming bored.
I grabbed my laptop and brought up a search engine. I typed in ‘sex clubs.’ I decided I’d like to find out what else was on offer at Mackenzie’s members only manor house. I found plenty of sex clubs, some which had me howling with laughter, others that had me want to wash my eyes with bleach. I found nothing on the one in Surrey.
What I did see among the listings were sites advertising sex toys.
I’d never used one, I’d pretended of course. On the very rare occasion I’d had a girls’ night out and B.O.B was the topic of conversation, you’d think I owned Ann Summers. I scanned through one site, fascinated by some of the objects on sale.
I choked as I came across a glow in the dark clone-a-willy, a vibrator moulding kit. For an extra few pounds I could add a lovely drawstring bag to carry it around it. I passed on the pussy pump but paused over a mini G-spot vibrator.
I rose to collect the debit card I’d left on the kitchen counter and placed the item in my virtual basket.
After my second glass of wine, I found myself debating between a six-inch dildo and an eight-inch. It wasn’t like I’d ever measured myself inside before. I opted to play safe and placed a six-inch Rabbit in my virtual basket.
I added lube, not that I generally needed that with Mackenzie, and vibrating bullet eggs. As I was about to head to the checkout, I spotted something that had me wide-eyed: a clitoral and G-spot stimulator controlled by a smart phone. I deleted the mini G-spot and added the We-Vibe instead. I checked out.
By the time I’d gotten halfway through the third glass of wine, I was crying with laughter. A smart phone controlled vibrator! I was so in the dark where all things sex was concerned.
I closed the laptop, and as it’s glow was extinguished, I realised I hadn’t turned on the apartment lights. The TV flickered creating some light; I muted it and just sat.
In that moment, with thoughts running through my head that I didn’t want and too much wine in my system, I felt lonelier than I ever had.
I was doing things I’d never considered before. I felt alive only when I was doing them, but I couldn’t determine if that was because it was Mackenzie I was with or not.
The thought of not being with him, or not exploring my sexual side, horrified me. But I pushed that niggle, that had started to gain a louder voice, from my mind.
What I was doing wasn’t healthy for my mind. What was I getting addicted to? Mackenzie or the experiences? And what happened when it all came to a halt?
In the past month, I’d had sex with a woman. Mackenzie had fucked me to the point of passing out, and I’d been overly aroused, if there was such a thing, by watching two men together.
I wasn’t sure where I could go from there.
Chapter Fourteen
I guessed I’d been crying during the night, although I didn’t remember, it was only because my pillow was damp and my eyes puffy again. I glanced at my watch to see it was past nine o’clock. Even though it was a Sunday, and I had no reason to get up early, it was still later than I’d normally rise.
My body ached, perhaps it was Friday night catching up on me; maybe it was because I felt wrung out. I cringed when I remembered I’d drank too much, chuckled at the thought of my online purchases and was thankful that when I moved, my head wasn’t spinning.
I took a shower and dressed, walking around the empty apartment with only the noise of my feet on wooden floors for company. For the first time, I didn’t want to be there.
I sat with a cup of tea and pulled my divorce papers from my briefcase. It was time to finalise everything. I wanted Scott out of my life and before he realised he was going to lose his job. I signed the division of assets; he could have his half, deservedly or not. I would send the documents off first thing the following morning, and instruct the solicitor to proceed as quickly as possible.
I then had to make a decision about Mackenzie.
I read through the text messages we’d exchanged. I still wanted to experience what I’d asked for but maybe that should be last one. I just wanted one more night with him and then I’d walk away. I’d give up the game.
I didn’t think, for one minute, Mackenzie was capable of any kind of relationship. He had neither the time nor had he shown any inclination that was what he wanted. I got it though; I understood what he was doing. The game was a way of empowering me, of allowing me to prove to myself that I was worthy, I was interesting, I was sensual, sexual, whatever words I wanted to use.
In one way he’d achieved what he’d set out to do. But in doing so, he’d forced me to take a hard look at my life and the changes I needed to make. I wasn’t convinced I’d find another man like him.
I needed to get out of the apartment; it felt claustrophobic. I picked up my phone and dialled.
“Hey,” Jerry said when he’d answered.
“Hi, what are you doing today?” I asked.
“I was going into work, why? Want to do somethin
g?”
“I do. I can’t sit here all day.”
“Okay, how about I pick you up in an hour?”
“Sounds great, thank you.”
“See you then.”
Was that fair? I knew how Jerry felt, but he was my friend, my only friend. I needed company that day.
I put on some makeup while I waited, brushed and tied my hair in a high ponytail, and hunted the apartment for clean socks.
I was downstairs and waiting in the car park when Jerry’s car pulled in. I opened the rear door and slid in beside him. He smiled as he leaned forwards to give me a hug.
“Lonely, huh?” he said.
“No, I wanted to spend some time with my friend,” I lied.
“Lonely or not, I’ll take whatever,” he said, then sat back with a laugh.
We pulled out into the traffic.
“So what shall we do?” I asked.
“I fancy a nice lunch, then a walk somewhere.”
“Okay, where?”
“Me and Mackenzie went to a nice pub the other day, not far from where he lives.”
My stomach clenched at Mackenzie’s name. Jerry leaned forwards and asked Steve, his driver, to take him to the place he’d been. Thankfully, Steve knew where to go.
“I’m sure there are some nicer places closer,” I said.
“Probably are but you’ll like it, it’s a gastro pub. And how do you know he doesn’t live just around the corner?”
He turned to me and smirked.
“I just assumed he didn’t live in Canary Wharf,” I replied, hoping my cheeks hadn’t flamed. “So, made any plans for your retirement?”
I wanted to divert the conversation away from Mackenzie, but I wasn’t sure Jerry was fooled. He paused before he answered. He told me he’d booked that holiday to the Caribbean, and then when he returned, he’d think on what new projects he wanted to get involved in. We chatted as we drove, but the closer we got to Hampstead Heath, the more agitated I became.
The gastro pub sat on a corner of two streets. Steve pulled the car alongside the curb and we climbed out. I followed Jerry in through the door and kept my gaze on him as he threaded his way through people to the bar. He asked for a table and ordered a bottle of wine at the same time.
The Facilitator Page 17
