by Lisa Ferrari
I think I may be blushing as I ponder it.
“Oh, I remember,” Kellan says, smiling as he looks at the city. “We haven’t done that here yet. Maybe tonight.”
“Yeah, maybe. Plus, we usually go swimming and make love after we work out. Or we take a hot shower together and make love after we work out. So, with that kind of reward, I’d be stupid not to want to work out.”
“Exactly. See, what you just said is the key point. You said that you have a powerful reward for working out. The immediate reward is us making love. The long-term reward is losing weight, losing fat, gaining muscle, leaning out, getting fitter, and, of course, let us not forget getting healthier, which cannot be overstated. And getting cast as the lead in the biggest movie of all time doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Yep, that’s definitely a powerful motivator. Do you think they’re going to want us to stay in the shape we’re in now, or will they want us to get bigger? Or leaner?” I’ve already asked Kellan about this, but it still plagues my mind. I want to know that I can be ready for whatever it is they need me to do.
“We’ll see. We’ll keep training as we have been. For now, we can coast a bit. Unless you want to get bigger and leaner. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
“Why? Am I not big enough or lean enough?”
“Big enough or lean enough for what? It’s all relative. For me, yes, of course; I think you look phenomenal. I mean, really. You’re so hot it’s painful to look at you. Until I remember we’re engaged, of course. And then I pretty much just want to be inside you twenty-four-seven. But, to your question, my personal philosophy, and this is just me, but I’ve always felt that you can never be too big or too lean.”
“We’ll see, I guess.”
“We certainly will.”
A comfortable silence descends around us, punctuated by the bubbling of the water, which is tickling my nipples. And the backs of my thighs. I push the soles of my feet up against one of the powerful water jets, getting a foot massage. I could orgasm from that alone. I find myself absently massaging my clitoris with one hand. Why am I so horny?
“Kellan, why am I so horny?”
“You mean right now or in general?”
“Both.”
“In my experience, libido derives from two main factors: mood and biochemistry. Some people would say that mood is biochemistry, and while that is true, in this context I think it’s more about perception and less about neurotransmitters and hormones and whatnot. If you’re in a good mood, and you’re perceiving your life and the world around you positively and you’re happy, you’re more likely to be in the mood for amore.
“Second is the biochemistry, namely hormones. Many of my clients have told me over the years that a couple of months into their program, after they had lost fifteen to twenty pounds, depending on how much they had to lose, of course, they found their sex drive increased. Part of this, again, is their perception: they are happy because they’re making progress with their fitness goals, so they’re feeling good about themselves. They’re thus more likely to want to get naked and crazy. But it’s also hormonal. As you lose weight, your hormones shift. You become less estrogen dominant and more testosterone dominant. And testosterone makes you horny. See, they used to think fat was inert, that it didn’t do anything other than simply sit there under your skin and in your muscle tissue and around your organs, taking up space and making you bigger and heavier. But then they found out that the fat increases estrogen. Increasing estrogen skews the hormonal ratio, so it’s tantamount to lowering your testosterone. Which will have a negative impact on your libido. As well as on your mood and your energy and your sense of well-being.
“On the other hand, losing twenty pounds will have the same effect but in the opposite direction: it will lower estrogen, thereby shifting to a more testosterone-dominant state. And, if you’re working out and doing resistance training, which everyone of course absolutely should be, you will also build muscle, which will also contribute to shifting the estrogen-testosterone ratio in a healthy direction. People always cite a desire to look good naked as one of their reasons for wanting to train and get fit. But hand in hand with looking good naked is feeling good naked. When you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and you like what you see, you want to look at yourself more. People who don’t train often mock bodybuilders and fitness professionals for being vain or shallow or conceited because they’re constantly looking in the mirror. Well, the truth is that they’re looking in the mirror because they’re seeking feedback for all the hard work. When you get up at four o’clock in the morning five or six days a week to train before work and you’re hitting the gym again in the evening for weights or another hour of cardio because you’re four weeks out from a show, you want to make sure your effort is having the desired effect. You darn well should be looking in the mirror. It’s one of the best ways to gauge progress. That and the scale and a measuring tape and a dunk tank. The point is, however, that the more you suffer by forcing yourself to go to bed at nine p.m. so you can get up at four a.m. and still get seven hours of sleep, the more you want results. People who stay up late and watch three or four hours of TV every night and train whenever and not every day and eat whatever and whenever aren’t suffering. So their expectations are going to be quite different. Does that make sense?”
That was a lot of information. But yes, it made sense. “Sure.” I guess that means my decreased body-fat and increased muscle mass has shifted my hormonal, endocrinological profile to a more testosterone-dominant one. “So, if I have more testosterone, does that mean I’m going to grow a beard and my voice will deepen and I’ll get really bad acne and my clitoris will grow into a little penis?”
Kellan chuckles. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It takes a lot of androgens and many years of use for the female body to become that masculine.”
“So I’m not going to turn into a guy?”
“No. You’re absolutely, positively not going to turn into a guy.”
A helicopter flies low over the tall buildings downtown, but it’s too far away to hear.
“Think there will be any more drones up here?” I ask.
“Not likely. After what happened to what’s his name, I think drone operators all over the world are re-thinking exactly how and where they’re going to fly their vehicles.”
“They better.”
What’s-his-name got his ass shot for what he did. I know if I dwell on it too long, I’ll freak myself out and I’ll get all worked up into a torrent of fear and self-loathing because someone died (and a cop got shot in the stomach) more or less because of me.
I don’t want this.
So I focus instead on the orange afternoon sun glinting on the tall glass buildings downtown. And on the heavenly sensation of the water jet massaging the soles of my feet, which are tender after sprinting across the sand earlier today.
We sit in comfortable silence once more.
I begin thinking about making love earlier. The thought of Kellan on top of me, inside me, gives me butterflies. All the way down to my groin.
Kellan raises his hips up to the surface of the water and his huge erection pokes out of the water.
“Ooh, what is that?” I ask.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re ready to go. Where did that come from?”
“I was just thinking about earlier.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah, that was hot.”
“Did you like it?”
“I loved it. You should’ve seen the look on your face. Especially on the third one.”
I’m suddenly on the verge of pure mortification. “Why? Did I look dumb?”
Kellan’s eyes open wide with alarm. “Dumb? No! Are you kidding? Oh my God. Claire, that was probably the sexiest, most erotic, and just plain amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You looked like you were coming so hard. So hard.”
“I was.”
“It’s a good thing I had already climaxed once in the shower, because that took some of the edge off and I was able to keep going. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to last so long for you. But don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from. I’m just glad I was the one who helped you do that.”
“What do you mean? Who else would it be?”
“No one. I’m just saying I’m glad I was able to make you feel so good. I mean, shit… I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’ve always considered myself a pretty good lover, you know. I try hard to please my partner. I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out right. I know you’re not supposed to talk about past lovers and stuff. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never done anything quite like that before. Everything you and I have done together has been a first. I guess you bring it out of me.”
“I guess you bring it out of me, too.”
Kellan finds my hand under the water, my left hand, the one wearing his ring. He lifts my hand out of the water and kisses it.
LATER, ONCE WE’VE dragged ourselves out of the warm, bubbling spa and made our way to our home gym, still very, very naked, we put a towel on the bench press and have a moderate chest workout.
We’re both very relaxed.
We take it slowly, resting between sets. My shoulders are fatigued from running on the beach this morning and my legs are Jell-O. Kellan says he feels the same way. He says it’s good to have fatigued shoulders prior to a chest workout. We won’t be able to lift as heavy but Kellan says that’s the whole idea. A lot of people use their front delts to assist with presses, which cheats the pectoral fiber recruitment and thus the micro-tears and the subsequent gains. Pre-fatiguing the shoulders means the pecs have to do more of the work. I can’t go as low, either.
Kellan puts his fist between my breasts and I lower the bar to his hand and press it up on each rep.
I then do the same for him on his set.
Alas, being naked proves too much temptation. We finish flat bench and are just beginning incline presses, with a whole round of decline bench and cable crossovers to do yet, when our eyes meet as Kellan is preparing for his final set. He’s on the bench, prone, his legs spread, his arms spread wide, his hands gripping the bar.
I can’t stop staring at his penis. It’s lying flat against his abdomen, nestling amongst the small patch of soft, dark hair that is the only body hair Kellan has.
Before he can begin his set, I get on my knees and take him in my mouth.
I feel him get hard in my mouth.
I love that.
It turns me on.
All too soon, he pulls me up off my knees and onto his lap. His mouth finds mine, his tongue fills my mouth, and his arms curl around me.
I straddle him and return his embrace, opening my mouth wide to accept his tongue.
Kellan guides himself inside me.
We sit like that on the bench, bathed in the golden glow of the halogen lights overhead, kissing. Kissing deeply.
Connecting.
Powerfully.
I run my fingers through Kellan’s hair and up and down his back. I caress his face as he does the same to me. Our heads turn side to side constantly, as if our hungry mouths can’t get enough of each other.
Our breathing increases.
I feel him flexing inside me.
I rock and swirl my hips in small motions as Kellan sits in the crook of the incline bench.
Kellan’s hands scoop up my breasts and squeeze and knead and caress. He lightly pinches my nipples, tugging on them as he buries his face between them and squishes his face with them, his tongue and mouth and lips hot and all-consuming.
The orange and yellow twinkles of the city lights are reflecting in the mirror behind Kellan. I let my head drop back as I savor the way Kellan devours my breasts and I see the black night sky and same city lights twinkling.
Kellan is so big and thick and hot inside me, filling me. I feel as though Kellan could stand up and walk around with me impaled on his erection, my arms and legs dangling, and I could stay there while he goes about his day. I could have orgasm after orgasm. I wonder what the world record is for longest lovemaking session, the number of hours an erect penis remained in a hungry vagina. We could line up a bunch of energy drinks and little blue Viagra pills and find out.
Kellan bites my nipple and brings me out of my reverie and back to my body. I don’t know why my mind wanders the way it does.
A few minutes later, we climax simultaneously, kissing wide, open-mouth soul kisses and staring into each other’s eyes.
Kellan then stands and I think maybe I’ll get to experience being impaled on his glorious cock. He walks outside to the Jacuzzi, my legs around him, his penis still inside me. I can feel his warm semen inside me, lubricating his penis, mixing with my own fluids and juices.
We settle once more into the hot water, surrounded by tiny bubbles.
We sit like that, kissing, our bodies united, savoring one another.
We’re one.
Chapter 27
THE NEXT DAY, there is a big charity event at the Ritz Carlton in Marina Del Rey and everyone from the production company is going. Sheila calls and says Kellan and I should come, that it would be a good opportunity for people in the industry to see us, to meet us, to get to know us, and us them. It’s good visibility for the project as well given that there will be a crapload of those paparazzi leeches there (her words).
Calista texts to tell me she and Heather are coming to pick me up to take me to the Beverly Center to find something to wear.
I’ve not yet been there so I’m excited to check out a big L.A. mall.
I climb into the back seat of Calista’s big silver Mercedes SUV. She calls it a G Wagon. She looks incredible. She’s wearing short shorts and beige high-heeled boots, a red V-neck and a denim jacket. She’s all legs.
To my pleasant surprise, Heather looks just as good. Each time I’ve seen Heather, she’s been wearing slacks and a blouse, her hair up in semi-controlled disarray, festooned in business casual impeded a bit by tardiness and work-induced sleep deprivation.
But not today.
Today she looks fantastic. She’s wearing jeans and tall brown riding boots and a shiny pink blouse. Her hair and make-up look amazing. And she’s glowing. And grinning ear to ear. Once we’ve all said hello, Heather holds up her left hand. A beautiful diamond solitaire is on her finger. She says it’s not as nice as mine but she still loves it.
Before I can say it, Calista says not to compare. My ring is my ring and Heather’s ring is Heather’s ring and each one was chosen carefully by the special someone who gave it to us and the important thing is that we’re going to be together forever. Calista spends the next twenty minutes ranting about women who compete with one another at all costs instead of helping one another.
By the time we pull into the parking garage at the Beverly Center, we’re ready to start our own non-profit reeducation campaign for women’s unity.
The Beverly Center is everything I’d hoped it would be. It’s huge. Five stories plus a huge parking garage.
They lead me directly to several stores they like, and one, called Candy Cloud, yields a tiny little ebony minidress thing that barely covers my ass. They combine it with strappy heels and I’m instantly three inches taller and nothing but legs.
“Wow,” Calista and Heather keep saying as I’m inspecting myself in the full-length mirror.
“This is exactly the kind of thing my mother would tut-tut at.”
“Your mother isn’t here,” says Calista. “Just think about Kellan and what he’s going to do to you when he sees you in this.”
That entices me. Never mind that, in addition to my legs and hips and groin being deeply sore from running on the beach at full speed, my vagina is sore. I forgot to ask Kellan if his penis is sore.
I could fellate him very gently, perhaps with some vanilla bean ice cream. O
r perhaps find someplace cozy in which to use my toy on him. Perhaps tonight, after dinner. This thought causes me to lubricate.
But it’s then sabotaged by fear when I think about what the dinner will be like. In a moment of panic I contemplate getting really, really, REALLY high in the car with Kellan just before we go into the hotel. But then I’ll be the new girl with the drug problem. Sheila would probably fire me on the spot. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and pretend I’m not shitting my new ebony minidress.
“Do we really have to go to this thing tonight?” I ask, trying to sound casual, as though I’m not wondering if it’s possible to wear an adult diaper beneath the ebony minidress, lest I experience a bout of sudden, uncontrollable boiling diarrhea like Denise had in the BofA parking lot that one time.
“You know this little movie that we’re doing?” says Heather. “The one that everyone says is going to cost about a billion dollars?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, pretty much all the people who are paying for it are going to be together in one room tonight. So, yeah, you kinda really need to be there tonight. Everyone who hasn’t already met you wants to. I’ve been on the phone talking to them for the past two weeks. I spend about ten hours a day on the phone. I swear I must have brain tumors the size of watermelons. But the past two weeks, I’ve been spending more like twelve to fourteen hours a day on the phone. And it’s all because of you. You’re the new It Girl. They want to see what they’ve gotten themselves into by buying into this movie. For them, it’s an investment. They expect to see some return on their investment. You are, for all intents and purposes, the face of that investment. It helps, a lot, that Aaron is directing because everyone knows his work. They know he and Rami work together and that Rami’s scripts are always solid. And they know Sheila. They know Sheila knows how to bring a show in on time and on budget. Never have her talents been more on display than they are now. Don’t tell her I said this but a lot of people are wondering if this is going to work, if she can do it, if it can even be done. Nothing this big has ever been attempted. It had to happen eventually. Someone had to try to make a movie of this size. I believe we can do it. I know we can. Right, Cali?”
