by Megan West
“Why won’t this work?”
“You’re not-” I stopped and took a deep breath as I tried to find the right words. “I’m not the right kind of girl for you.”
His eyebrows scrunched up in shock confusion. He looked at me as if I had just told him I was a purple alien from mars or something equally as ridiculous.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I’ve got a career and a life and an image I have to maintain.” The words sounded terrible the moment they left my mouth.
“An image?” He looked offended. “What am I not clean cut and prissy looking enough for you?” He was starting to get angry.
“It’s not that. Actually you’re everything I want in a man.”
“Then what is it Kayla?” His voice grew grim just as the tears started to well up inside my eyes. But I held strong, refusing to let one of them spill over and roll down my cheek.
“You’re everything I want, but I can’t have it.” I sounded like a stumbling idiot. I was trying to voice my feelings before I even understood them myself.
“I’m right here.” He said as he held his arms out in mock presentation.
I drew a deep breath in as I tried to focus myself and calm down. Finally, I found the courage to look up at his beautiful green eyes. His face had disappointment, anger, and every other bad emotion written across it.
“It won’t work because…you’re not like me.” My eyes quickly darted back to the ground. “You’re wrong for me.”
I did my best to blink away a tear, but only managed to make it roll down my cheek. “Every day I go to that office and feel like I don’t belong there. They aren’t my type of people. Everyone is such a professional stiff you can’t even make a joke.”
I was speaking so fast I’d be surprised if he actually understood what I was saying.
“But it’s the career I’ve been in for years. It’s the only life I’ve ever known and if I want to get ahead I have to stay focused. I can’t date somebody like you. You’ll only add to the discomfort. You’re a constant reminder that there’s something else out there for me. But I don’t think there actually is something else for me. My bed is already made and now I have to lay in it. This is as good as it gets.”
“Do you even know what you want?” He said as he stood up and walked closer to me. There was a long pause as I took a breath and gathered myself.
“I want to take the next step in my career.” I said, looking up at him as he towered over me know.
“And I’m going to get in your way?” He asked, chest heaving with every breath.
The silence permeated every bone in my body.
“Yes.”
“No it’s not.” He instantly shot back. “I know people like you Kayla. You always say to yourselves ‘Just a few more years of working hard and then I’ll settle down and have some fun.’ Then a few years pass and you look in the mirror and say the same thing. You’re always looking for the next big break. You’re always doing shit you don’t want to do. You’re always worried about what other people think. So you do what you think they want you to do.
I decided not to be that person years ago. Stop and smell the roses Kayla, feel the sun on your back. If you don’t, one day you’ll wake up and realize you never lived life for yourself—you lived it for someone else.”
He was so close to me his breath warmed my skin. I could tell he was tempted to reach out for me and pull me closer. But he refrained. I looked up at him with pleading eyes, but that look was all he needed. He quickly grabbed his leather jacket off the floor and made his way out.
“I’m leaving for Washington tomorrow and don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Before he walked out I spun around. “I’m sorry Rick.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Apologize to yourself.” With that he left.
This was never supposed to turn into this. He was just supposed to be a fun and spontaneous one-night stand in a bar bathroom. But everything about him stirred up everything I hated about me.
I could still feel the faint warmth from his breath on my skin.
But it grew colder every second he was away.
Chapter 8
My eyes traced over the red rocks that filled the entire frame of my monitor. The sky was a bright blue with white clouds floating high up above the rocks. Being born and raised in the big city, I could probably count the number of times I had been out in nature on one hand.
Even though my eyes traced over the picture of the Grand Canyon my mind couldn’t stop racing between two thoughts. The first thought was Rick.
The second thought was the fact that Jennifer got the promotion to vice president.
“It’s probably because she sucks his dick…” I muttered under my breath before laughing out loud. As soon as the words left my lips I heard a scoff and a sharp inhale.
I looked up from my desk to see Samantha staring at me with her hand over her mouth and a shocked expression on her face. I didn’t even notice her walk in the office to give me a report. I should have closed my office door. Normally I would have instantly tried to laugh and brushoff the comment as a joke. But at that point I didn’t care much anymore. I was already at my wits end and I wasn’t going to cover it up for Samantha.
She delicately placed the report on my desk as if I were a sleeping lion ready to attack an intruder if awoken. I gave her a half smile as she started to turn around and head for the door.
Chirp. Chirp.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I reached for my phone with a heavy sigh. This was the last thing I needed now. I swiped my thumb across the screen to unlock the phone and open my mother’s text message.
-Do something today your future self will thank you for. -
I read her message several times. It was such a short sentence, but for once one of her texts actually got me thinking. What would my future self want? It seems like all I ever do is think about my future self. I’m constantly trying to work hard to get that new promotion, or further my career in some meaningful way.
Some meaningful way…
And that’s when it really hit me. None of this meant anything to me. I didn’t want any of this. The career, the promotion, the dates with boring-office-drone-men; none of it was something I wanted. It wasn’t meaningful.
It was meaningless.
All I ever did was work for my ‘future self’. I always thought my future self would be happy with a promotion, or making more money, or succeeding to make my mother happy. But I never stopped to consider that if I stayed on the same path and I wasn’t happy in the present, I wouldn’t be happy in the future.
My future self didn’t want a promotion. I was just working for that because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. It was the next logical step up the ladder. But why climb the ladder when you don’t even want what’s at the top?
I knew what I wanted. I was just too afraid to admit it until that moment. I wanted freedom, adventure, travel, and Rick.
I wanted Rick.
“Is everything alright?” Samantha asked, snapping me out of my moment of clarity.
“Yea.” My face lit up in a bright smile, “everything’s great.”
She looked at me like I was crazy.
“I’m quitting.” I said as I practically launched out of my chair.
“You’re what?” The shocked look on her face grew even more exaggerated.
“I’m quitting. You’ll have to give the report to Jennifer.” I rounded my desk and walked toward Samantha. She just stared at me like I was a crazy person and maybe I was a crazy person right then. But I didn’t feel like it. For the first time in my life I felt like I was thinking straight.
“Samantha,” I said as I placed my hands on each of her shoulders. “You have been absolutely wonderful.”
“Thank you…” She managed to mutter out.
With that, I walked out of the office and pulled up Rick’s nu
mber in my phone as I made my way to Mr. Paul’s office.
-You were right, the attraction between us is too much to ignore. –
He responded almost instantly.
-I know. –
-I’m quitting my job. I don’t want to do this. I want you. You have room on the bike for one more to Washington? –
-For you? Of course. :-) –
I couldn’t hide the huge grin on my face as I walked into Mr. Paul’s office.
“Kayla, aren’t you looking happy today.” Mr. Paul said as soon as I walked in.
“I’m quitting.”
He looked even more shocked than Samantha.
“Quitting…you can’t quit I need-“
“I’m done Mr. Paul. Jennifer can take over my workload. I have to leave immediately.”
“Where are you going?” I could tell he was trying to make sense of the situation. From the outside, it probably didn’t look like it made much sense at all.
“I’m going away. If you need anything else from me send it to my email. I’ll clean out my office now.”
“But Kayla…”
I walked out of the door, not looking back for even a second. When I got back to my office I looked around for any personal belongings. That’s when I realized I didn’t have any. My office was practically a splitting image of what it looked like before it was mine. I never liked that place. That’s why I didn’t want to add any personal touch.
I could tell everyone was staring at me as I made my way out of the front door to O.P. Advertising Firm. I could practically hear the judging whispers as I walked down the hallway and past the copy machines that only worked half the time. I hated those things and for a moment I did a little victory dance inside my head, knowing I would never have to use them again.
As soon as I walked out onto the busy city street the sun kissed me on the cheeks. It was warm and inviting. It felt wonderful.
I was never going to be happy inside the building behind me. Happiness was somewhere out in front of me. Happiness was in the air and in the sun.
It was on that motorcycle with Rick. For once one of my mother’s motivational texts actually worked on me.
In that moment, I knew my future self was going to be happy.
In that moment, everything felt right.
Second Free Bonus Story
Ridiculous. That was my first thought when I looked around the small dance studio turned into an ‘Orgasm Clinic.’ That’s what my friend Tatiana called it, and that’s what the website called it, so I guess that was its official name— the ‘orgasm clinic.’
The conversation that led to this was awkward. It was only a week ago when Tatiana and I were out for dinner. I was telling her about my depressing sex life.
“Its not like I haven’t found plenty of men to have sex with.” I said as I stared at my stout long island iced tea.
“What is it then?” Tatiana asked. She was starting to pry. I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly being forthcoming with my problems, but I was the one who brought them up. I wanted to talk about them, but it was just too embarrassing. I looked down at the table in shame before drawing in a deep breath.
“I haven’t been able to orgasm since I was with David.”
“David! Good gosh Denise that was what?” Tatiana’s hands slapped on top of the table in shock, “six months ago?”
“Yea.” I said with a meager voice. I loved my best friend to death, but she wasn’t exactly making me feel better about myself. I felt broken; like my body wasn’t working right anymore. Tatiana noticed my look of total defeat and reached across the table to pat my hand.
“It’s okay girl.” She said, giving me a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “I can’t say I’ve had this problem before, but a lot of women have. Luckily, I have just the solution.”
“Do you now?” I asked skeptically. It wasn’t secret that Tatiana was a freak in bed. I was half expecting her to give me the number to one of her many hookups. She treated men the way women always complain about men treating women. She’d use them for sex and not bother calling them the next day. Unless of course the sex was good, then she’d hook up with them a few more times before kicking them to the curb.
Maybe I’d be lucky and she’d recommend Ricky; the super fit running back for the local NFL team. He was practically a super star and Tatiana had picked him up at a trendy night club one night. She fucked him and left the next morning. He ended up calling her the next day, but she ignored him. Apparently the sex ‘wasn’t that good.’ We didn’t find out until after the fact that he was the hotshot running back for the football team. How could we know that? We were just a couple of single women who never watched sports.
To say the least, Tatiana was the most sexual person I knew, so I was on pins and needles to hear her suggestion. When a suggestion regarding sex was coming from her—anything could come from her mouth.
“It’s called,” she leaned over the small table like she was going to tell me the biggest secret of her life, “The Orgasm Clinic.”
My face instantly scrunched up in total confusion, “huh?”
“The Orgasm Clinic. That’s what you need!” She sat back and looked as smug and confident as ever. I could tell she really felt like she saved my life.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a meet up for women who can’t reach orgasm.” She spoke as if the name alone made it obvious.
“They have something like that?”
“Yes! A bunch of women have this problem. This is a place where you go and the…” She leaned back a little further and mockingly fanned her face with her hand like she was having a hot-flash, “the oh-so-sexy instructor helps you achieve orgasm. Right then and there!” She started to giggle.
“I don’t get it.”
“You’ll just have to go and see for yourself.”
“I thought you said you’ve never had my ‘problem’.”
Tatiana shrugged and took a sip of her cocktail. “I haven’t. But I don’t go for the same reason all the other women do. I go because I like getting off in front of others and the instructor is drop dead fucking gorgeous!”
I rolled my eyes. If it was coming from anyone else, I’d think they were lying or grossly over exaggerating. But since all of this was coming from Tatiana it was totally believable.
She went on, “plus he takes a few lucky women up on the stage and literally gives them orgasms in front of everyone! I want to be called up there so fucking bad, but he never picks me. I swear it’s like he has a sixth sense for bullshit and knows I’m only there for the fun and not to actually be ‘cured’.”
“Where did you hear about this?”
She shrugged as she took another sip of her drink, “online.”
I was beyond skeptical at first, but then I went to the website and read several online message boards where women were talking about how great it was. So, I decided to give it a shot. I was never one to easily reach orgasm, but it had never gotten so bad for me to try such desperate measures. I signed up for a ‘lesson’ and waited on bated breath until Thursday rolled around.
When Thursday finally came I was more nervous than I had ever been in my whole life. I looked down at the personal vibrator still in plastic wrap and all the pamphlets and brochures they handed out when everyone timidly walked through the door. I didn’t bother reading too much of the reading material, but from what I could gather there was a healthy mix of legitimate medical information and more ‘woo woo’ stuff about your feelings and proper mind/body connection.
There was a wide array of mini articles in the pamphlets with titles like:
Lose the Heels: High Heels are the Death of Pleasure
Stop ‘Boozing it up’.
Your Partner Doesn’t Know how to ‘Work It”.
Noisy Sex is Good Sex
Be Comfortable with Yourself to be Comfortable with the Big O
My personal favorites were:
Sometimes Pain is Pleasure
&nbs
p; Just below the title was the picture of a beefy man spanking a woman bent over a couch. She had pale white skin and her ass was filled with bright red handprints. Just below that one was:
Go so you can Come
The picture for this masterpiece was a woman sitting on a toilet with messy blond hair and a look of relief all over her face. This whole thing was starting to get sillier by the minute. I reached up and adjusted my facemask as I looked around at all the other women in their own masks. As soon as I had signed up for the ‘clinic’ they sent me a small masquerade mask in the mail. They said it was for my anonymity. They wanted to make sure all the women were comfortable. It was a nice gesture because the last thing I wanted was to run into a familiar face. But I wondered how well the small masks would actually conceal my face. They only covered the top half of my face. But as soon as I got there I looked around at all the others. It didn’t look like I knew anyone—thank God!
The room looked like it was a dance studio by day and (apparently) an ‘Orgasm Clinic’ by night. The walls were nothing but mirrors and there was a tiny makeshift stage set up against one of the walls. On the stage was a padded bench, a chair, and a what looked like a giant padded X shaped cross with shackles on each point. I only knew what that was because Tatiana had told me about it. It was a Saint Andrew’s Cross. The whole thing made my stomach turn with nervous excitement. There was about twenty to twenty-five women. That was a little more than I would have liked, but what’s a girl to do?
As soon as the instructor, Matt Kelly, walked into the room I heard a collective gasp from all the women around me—including myself. He was a perfect six-foot with chiseled muscles like a roman statue and a grabbable head of dirty blond hair. He didn’t bother wearing a shirt and had on a pair of loose-fitting exercise pants. When he walked, I could make out the gentle sway of his cock underneath his pants. Just looking at him made my mouth dry from nerves and my you-know-what wet from something else.
“Orgasms. They seem like some allusive thing just out of reach.” My mouth dropped a little lower when I heard him speak for the first time. He had an English accent. The kind that would make a girl instantly drop her pants, bend over, and beg to be taken wherever they happened to be standing at the time. No wonder Tatianna loved this place so much.
