by Queen, Roxy
I shake my head. “He had to learn this somewhere. I’ve had boyfriends; none of them are like him.”
“Well, bring him over to my house. We’ll have a foursome; and maybe, he can teach Alex and me some new tricks.” We reach the end of the trail and slow to a walk.
“He probably could. You know, without the foursome part. Eww.” I have no interest in seeing Reese or her husband, Alex, like that. Ever. Sure, I may be crossing all kinds of boundaries but that isn’t one of them.
“What’s Graham’s last name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find that out; and maybe, we can figure out more about him,” she says, bending over to stretch.
“We signed confidentiality stuff. I don’t think I should snoop.”
“Suit yourself; but if you find out, let me know. You know I’m a master internet stalker. Remember Karen Cooper?” How could I forget? Karen was a girl in our dorm that decided to flirt with and try to steal Reese’s boyfriend at the time. That didn’t end well.
“I’ll let you know if I change my mind; in the meantime, I guess I’ll just reap the benefits of his sexual superpowers.”
“Good plan.” She throws her sweaty arm around my equally sweaty shoulder. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I called Jessica the other day. Dylan’s going to go to the wedding with me,” I say.
“So that’s back on?” she asks, managing to almost keep the disdain out of her voice.
“Sort of. We’re going to give it another shot after the experiment.” I force her to make eye contact. “You’re going to have to get over your attitude with him. He’s always been really great to me; and after all this, I’m pretty sure he’s here to stay.”
“I hate that whole stupid hipster thing he has going on.”
“He’s just laid back,” I argue.
“It’s so pretentious. English major, flannel. It’s not 1991, you know.”
“Cut him some slack. He’s coming. And hopefully, he’ll really be coming if you know what I mean.” I blush; surprised I said that aloud.
“Did you just make a sexual innuendo? You? Audrey?”
“I think I did!”
“Holy shit, now I really have to meet this Graham guy. It’s like he’s changing your mind and body. You’re right. He is a god.”
I walk over to a bench and sit down. “Can I ask you something—with zero judgments and no commentary about Dylan?”
She looks as if the suggestion pains her but nods and sits next to me. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Do you think my relationship with Graham will hurt what I have with Dylan?”
“You mean the fact you’re sexing up another guy, while still sort of seeing a different guy on the side? A guy who doesn’t know the sexing guy exists?”
I drop my head into my hands. “Ugh. So yes. You do.”
“It’s not so simple, Audrey. I get it. I think that as long as you’re not getting emotionally attached to The Sex God, you’re okay.” She bends down to look me in the eye. “Are you getting emotionally attached to Graham?”
“I have to feel something for him, Reese, if I’m going to go through with this.”
“I know. But are you betraying Dylan?”
“I wasn’t with Dylan when I agreed to this study.”
She gives me a hard look, one that says she knows I’m hedging. “I think you’re doing what you need to do and I think you should keep doing it. Get better. In the end that’s what needs to happen. It’s what Dylan wants to happen.”
“True.”
“Plus,” she says with a smile. “You can’t help being dickmatized by a Sex God.”
“Shut up,” I say, punching her in the arm. She hops off the seat and breaks into a trot. I get up and follow her.
“But for real, I think Dylan will be happy with the results. Don’t sweat it. You just need to make a decision and let it go.”
She’s right. I do need to make a decision and I know that I already have. I’m doing this experiment. I’m getting better and I want to see it through. No more whishy-washy on stuff outside the study. I’m done with that.
“When did you get so wise?” I ask.
Reese waves her hand and rolls her eyes. “Please. Wisdom is my superpower.”
I laugh, happy she’s my friend.
*
I reward myself for the hard run by getting take-out. I think about calling Dylan; but he’s been working on his end of year paper, and I don’t want to bother him, or encourage a late night situation. I don’t want to push something I can’t give him right now.
I walk the two blocks to feel less guilty about the twelve inch meat-lovers I’m about to inhale. The pizza place is on the corner of my street next to a liquor store. I’m carrying my box home when the door of the liquor store opens up and Graham steps out holding the cardboard handle of a six-pack of longnecks.
“Audrey,” he says, giving me the happy to see you grin. I can’t help but return it. “What’s up?”
“Just some pizza.” I glance at his hand. “Getting drunk alone?”
His smile alters, switching to guilty, but not ashamed. “Busted.”
Graham has on all his clothes tonight. He’s wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a dark blue jacket with a white stripe across the arm and chest. His heavy black boots shuffle against the pavement. I rarely see him dressed anymore. It’s nice. It gives me an idea and I hold up the box. “Want to split this with me?” He doesn’t reply right away. “My apartment is down the street. We can hang out and get to know one another with our clothes on for once. Unless you think it would be weird.”
“No, not weird,” he says. I’m not sure if it’s the pizza, the clothing, or if he’s just lonely that makes him decide to come; but he breaks out the lopsided grin, the one that makes my heart kick-start just a little, and agrees to come.
“I live in the studios over the old Pencil Factory. Do you live around here?”
“Other side of campus,” he says. “In an old house I share with a guy.”
“Oh! More than one room,” I say, pointing to the stairway that leads upstairs to my place. “How luxurious.”
We reach the top of the stairs and I topple holding the pizza. His hand steadies me, and I grasp his arm. We’re warm and familiar against one another. Shouldn’t we be? I mean, soon enough we’ll be trying, gulp, to have sex, right? Sharing a meal seems pretty standard.
I fumble my key in the lock, dropping it on the floor. He bends over to pick it up and says, “I’ll get it.”
He opens the door but neither of us moves to step inside. I guess we both realize we’re about to cross a line we can’t come back from. I take the keys, step across the threshold, and to my relief he follows me in.
“Need a bottle opener?” I point to the one stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. He pops the cap off one and offers it to me. I take it and say, “Thanks.”
He opens the next one, his blue eyes meet mine, and he takes a long pull from his bottle. I do the same.
In my tiny kitchen, I get the strong sense that we’ve just entered a new phase of our relationship. A phase I’m ready to accept no matter how terrifying it may be.
Chapter 24
(Graham)
I tear off another hard piece of crust and gnaw on it while watching the ridiculous movie Audrey picked out. College a cappella singers? What the hell is that? I’ll admit Anna Kendrick’s hot, though.
“Come on,” she says, kicking my feet. “Fat Amy is hilarious. The flying burrito?”
I shrug. Okay, it was funny. Audrey’s riled up about it and I like seeing the fire behind those green eyes. It’s so much better than sadness that lingered for the first several weeks after we met. When I refuse to agree, she huffs a little in the corner of the couch. Adorable.
“You’re no fun.”
“I’m fun,” I say. “I’m just not into chick flicks.”
“What, only big guns and expl
osions? Car chases?”
“Sometimes.” I’ve been here for two hours, eating, drinking beer, and talking. Oh, and movie watching. Audrey declared this one The Best. I let her twist my arm. With a straight face, I add, “Naked chicks work, too.”
“Figures.” She hugs her arms around her knees, eyes glued to the screen. Without looking over she asks, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you watch a lot of porn?”
I’ve been with a lot of women, none as innocent as Audrey, and she always, without fail, surprises me. She is so naïve in some ways, very blunt and direct in others. I didn’t see that one coming even though I’d opened the door. “Some. Like most guys. What about you?”
“Just pictures. I’ve never watched a movie or anything.”
“Is that something you’re interested in?”
“I’ve never seen the point, I guess. Porn, anal sex, oral sex, threesomes, BDSM. It’s nothing I could ever do and it seems like an unreachable, foreign world. Does it turn you on?”
“Porn?” I ask, because she tossed in a lot of stuff there and I’m into some more than others. I’m not convinced she’s ready to hear that though. “Sure, but it’s wise to not mistake that as real life. It’s a fantasy. Even if you didn’t have your anxiety, I don’t think you’d be living like they do in those movies.” I take a sip of beer. We’d gone through all of mine and cracked open a couple bottles she had in her refrigerator. A collection of empties sat on the table next to the discarded pizza box.
“What’s your biggest fantasy?” she asks, again eyes boring into the screen.
Ah, that’s a hard one. There isn’t much I haven’t done, but I can’t tell her that. I’d scare her off for sure. When I hesitate too long she says, “Fine. I can tell you mine, if you want.”
“Sure, if you feel comfortable telling me.”
“Sometimes, I pretend I don’t have this whole thing, this hang-up. That I’m normal and everything about my body works the way it should. However, that’s not my fantasy. My fantasy is that since I am normal, the guy I’m with doesn’t have to be afraid of scaring me off. He doesn’t have to be gentle or sweet.” She dips her head so I can barely see her face and I have to lean forward to hear her. “He can be as dirty as he wants. He can take me as hard as he wants. Any way he wants. I’d like him to press me against the wall and tear off my panties. Or maybe bend me over the table top and take me from behind.”
Her face now is a hot, glowing red, and my dick? Yeah, it’s about to tear through my jeans at her description. I shift in my seat because… holy shit. Holy fucking shit, Audrey, what the hell am I supposed to say to that.
“But it’s a fantasy,” she concludes. “Not real life.”
“Not yet,” I manage to say. Glancing up, I find Audrey staring at me with a small smile. “What?”
“When we first started this experiment, I thought you were gay.”
“Huh, really?”
“I couldn’t figure out how a guy could rub all over a girl like that and not go a little crazy. Then I saw you were, uh,” she blushes, “excited. That theory went out the window.”
“Sorry about that.” I’m not sorry at all. It just seems the polite thing to say when your dick is accused of being rude. Like right now. “But no, not gay.”
“Don’t be sorry. It made me feel better. Not that you weren’t gay. I don’t care about that, but I was relieved that you were excited, too.” She stops to take a drink. “How are you so good at all this?”
“This…”
“Sex.” She flushes. I love it. I wonder if this one runs down her neck and across her tits. She’s in a sweater and I’m mildly resentful of the heavy clothing blocking my view. “We’re like opposites. You’re so good at it and I’m so bad.”
I think about her hands on my cock the other day. I look at them now, winding tight around the green glass bottle. None of this is helping my situation but I keep talking anyway. “You’re not bad. You have anxiety. It’s not the same thing. The things you’re comfortable with, you do very well. In fact, you’re not bad at it at all. Trust me.”
“So you enjoy it when I touch you?”
I hesitate. The answer is yes. A huge fuck yes! I nod, unwilling to say more.
“I enjoy it when you touch me. You’re very gentle,” she confesses. Her toes, painted purple, graze my thigh and my skin is suddenly on fire, charging through my body, settling in my balls. I look away from Audrey, focusing on anything that’s not her body being near mine. Unfortunately, my eyes land on her bed, and then back on her where she sits, lips parted, and eyes wide.
Shit. I shouldn’t be here. This uncontrolled setting could skew the experiment results. I could ruin everything we both have on the line.
“It’s getting late,” I tell her. “I should probably go.”
“Oh,” she says, face crestfallen. “Yeah, it is late.”
I hop off the couch before I change my mind and grab my jacket off the chair by the door. “Thanks for having me come over. My roommate had a date and, you know, three’s a crowd.”
“I’m glad I could offer you refuge. It’s the least I could do.” She swings open the door.
“Goodnight,” I say, with a quick smile before turning my back. The door clicks shut, the sound bouncing off the brick walls. I stop as soon as I get around the corner, out of view, and exhale in relief. Going to her apartment was a mistake. We’d crossed a line between professional and personal and I can’t let it happen again, because next time, I may not have so much self-control.
*
Audrey walks out of the bathroom in a hoodie zipped between her breasts and a pair of purple panties. Her nipples alert me to the fact she’s not wearing a bra. They are all I can focus on, just nipples… and breasts; and then, inches and inches of the bare, soft skin covering her legs.
She passes me, fingers on the zipper, tugging it downward. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I’m interested in finding out. I adjust the lights and music, then turn to find her on the bed. She’s busy pulling off those purple panties and dropping them on the floor.
Okay, then.
“Do you have a plan for the session?” I ask, removing my own shirt. I keep on my boxers. My eyes roam back and forth to her exposed body, seeing her pussy for the first time. She’s not bare, not totally. Neat and trimmed, it’s hot.
“Yes.” She lies back on the bed, revealing herself further. In a nervous voice, she says, “I’m ready for you to go down there.”
Gladly, I think, but say, “Uh, and do exactly what? I need some parameters here, Audrey.”
“Expose me.” She lifts her head up and pins me with a sharp eye. “No penetration or attempts. Got it?”
“Got it.”
I climb on the bed and situate myself. First sitting and then moving to my knees. With a hand around each calf, I pull her forward, until she’s almost in my lap. She gasps but a quick glance tells me she’s undeterred. Neither am I. I rub her legs, warming her up. There’s no need; already, I can smell her. She’s ready. I’m ready; and I do what we’ve been tiptoeing around for weeks. I take my time and it doesn’t take long before she’s a mass of writhing putty in my hands. I watch as she bites her lip, closes her eyes, and clenches her jaw. She’s amazing; and hell, I want to fuck her so badly. Instead, I focus on her and use my skills to bring her pleasure.
“Holy shit.”
Pant. Pant. Pant.
“Holy fucking shit.”
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Graham.” She lifts a finger and waggles it back and forth. “Because I had no idea…”
I take Audrey to the edge and back. Three times, winding her up like a doll. Each time she breaks down, begging for release. I just want to show her what her body can do, what I can do, especially after her confession the other night. She wants more and I can give it to her.
I finally relent, stroking and caressing her sensitive spots, wor
king my fingers along her clit, steering clear of the prohibited zones. Audrey’s hips writhe and her tiny pants quicken. After an eternity of build-up, she comes; and damn, it’s like watching angels weep. Even when she calms, I continue stroking, enjoying the feel of her flesh.
Eyes glazed, she sits up on her elbows, tits peeking out from behind her half-zipped hoodie. “That’s was pretty fucking epic.”
“Thank you,” I smile.
“God, you’re so smug.”
“How could I not be?” I ask, playfully. “You declared me a god.”
“I was in the throes of passion. My brain wasn’t working.”
I pick her panties up off the floor and slide them over one foot, then the other. She lifts her butt off the bed and I catch the scent, her scent. She reeks of sex and satisfaction. She shimmies the panties the rest of the way up.
I’ve seen a lot of pussy. A lot. I’m not going to go on about how beautiful and exquisite they are. Like how they resemble petals on a flower. I don’t care. It’s bullshit. Vaginas aren’t hot. Neither are dicks, but rub them the right way and a person can hear music.
What makes Audrey special? Her pussy, like everything else about her, is buried under layers. She looks fine on the outside. Perfect even, but peel away the top layer and you’ll come across the damaged spots. Anxiety, fear, nerves. I have had to handle each one separately, earning her trust along the way. With her brain, it’s how she ticks. With her pussy, it’s about how to distract her long enough to make her forget everything else and just enjoy herself. When Audrey finally decides to let down her guard, she’s even more beautiful than before. She’s fun, silly, and I can see why men are willing to stay with her regardless of the lack of sex. And now, seeing what I just saw, the lure of Audrey is even more intense than before. She doesn’t just come…she has a holy experience.
In that moment, when she finally tipped over the edge and looked up at my face, she probably thought I was a god. A title I have no problem taking.
She leaves the bed to go change. I tug my shirt over my head and straighten the bed. When she comes out she asks, “Where do we go from here?”
