Pleasure Point: The Complete Series

by Evans, Jennifer

  “Great! I mean, that sounds okay.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Of course I am.” I twirled the telephone cord so tight it almost broke. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You sound funny.”

  “Been getting over a cold is all.”

  “Jax hasn’t been feeling great either. Must be something going around. Well, I’ll see if he has plans after school.” She laughed. “He doesn’t like me showing up there. You know how boys are.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you back.”

  We hung up, and I exhaled all the nervous energy I’d been holding in. I took a toke from my bong, plodded into the kitchen, poured a bowl of granola with soy milk, and settled on the sofa again. About forty minutes later the phone rang.

  It was Lydia. “Jax’ll be there around three.”

  When I heard the news, adrenaline shot through my system and everything looked sharp; more in focus.

  I forced my voice to sound normal. “Thanks, Lydia.”

  “No problem. Talk to you later.”

  I was going to see Jax again!

  I hopped off the sofa, filled with an energy that I hadn’t felt in, well, in two months. I raced around the house like a woman possessed. I blared Led Zeppelin, the music thrumming through my body and sang along as I swept, cleaned, and threw all my dirty clothes into a laundry bag. I put fresh sheets on the bed, threw out all the food that had spoiled in the fridge, and scrubbed out the toilet and shower. I cleaned the windows and mirrors, dumped out the trash, and emptied the cat box. Then I took a long, hot shower with lavender-scented body wash, and shampooed and conditioned my hair. I dressed in a gauzy skirt and tank top then applied lip-gloss. When I looked in the mirror, I was radiant.

  Finally, I strolled down the street and cut a few red roses off a bush.

  I was going to see Jax again!

  Jax

  I was in front of my school, sitting under a shade tree during lunch break when my mom’s Volvo pulled up.

  She rolled the window down and waved. “Jax!”

  I stood up so fast that I got a head rush. I quickly walked toward the car, hoping that none of my friends saw her.

  “Mom, what’re you doing here?”

  She handed me a brown sack. “You forgot your lunch, honey.”

  I snatched it out of her hand. “Okay, umm, thanks.” I turned to walk away.

  “Wait! Honey, Rosalyn needs you—”

  When I heard the sound of Rosalyn’s name, the earth sank underneath my Vans. I pivoted and leaned my head through the open car window. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. Think you could drop by after school? Rosalyn needs you to come over and fix a broken door handle. I mean, I don’t know if you have plans—”

  “Yes! I mean, no, I don’t have plans. And yes, I guess I could stop by.” I stood up straight. “Okay mom, I gotta get to class. Thanks for bringing my lunch.”

  She put her car in gear. “Of course, baby.” She waved. I watched her car as it became smaller and smaller.

  Why was Rosalyn calling my mom? I ate half of my sandwich under the shade tree, but I could barely swallow. I somehow made it through my last two classes, but I couldn’t concentrate. The only thought that went through my mind was, Rosalyn needs me.

  After school, I dashed home on my skateboard. I jumped in the shower, put on a clean pair of jeans, brushed my hair, and when I looked in the mirror, I was smiling.

  I got to Rosalyn’s house fifteen minutes before three. And there she was, sitting on the front stoop with Leo in her lap. She looked gorgeous. It got difficult to breathe, and my heartbeat sped up when I saw her wild tangle of blond hair. And her smile.

  “Hi Jax,” she said, her voice low.

  I kneeled down in front of her, trying not to look in her eyes and instead busied myself petting Leo. “Hey little guy. I missed you.” I let my eyes drift to hers. “Do you really have a broken door handle?”

  She stared down at her feet. “No. But thanks for coming over. Want to walk down to the beach?”

  We walked the four blocks in silence, but I was ultrasensitive to everything about Rosalyn. I inhaled the intoxicating sandalwood scent of her, felt the warmth of her body, and listened to every breath she took.

  We stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean, a few seagulls circling overhead, a fog bank on the horizon. I felt the air cool on my skin. Finally, Rosalyn said, “I’ve missed you.”

  Everything in the world stopped. The air felt soft and sweet, the sky looked bluer than I’d ever remembered it, and Rosalyn’s eyes were pools that I wanted to fall into. “Oh God, Rosalyn. Past couple months have sucked.”

  She looked me in the eye. “So, what if we decide to start hanging out again?”

  That was all I wanted. If I could have, I would’ve moved out of my parents’ house and straight into her place, wrapped my arms around her, and never left her side. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she said, looking at the sparkling ocean. “I’m glad I made the move back.”

  I didn’t say anything, just gazed at her.

  “Why don’t we go home?” she said. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”

  When we got to her place, she lit her ceremonial candles and turned on a mix of romantic Led Zeppelin ballads. I sat on the sofa with Leo on my lap. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she floated around her tiny apartment like an angel. She moved Leo off my lap. “So, umm … what I was thinking … Oh, screw it. Here’s what I wanted to show you.” She straddled me, put her arms around me, and drew me into a deep kiss. Her mouth tasted sweet and warm; her tongue was urgent. I gripped her hair and pulled closer. My hands were on her back and on her neck and on her face and then on her breasts. I wanted to touch her everywhere and didn’t know where to start. I’d spent the past couple of months dreaming of her every night, and now here I was. I forced myself to slow down, to savor the moment. I gazed into her eyes and ran my fingers through her hair. Gently, I traced the line of her chin, and her lips parted slightly. She wrapped her hand around the back of my head and pulled me into her mouth, her kiss soft, then insistent. I closed my eyes and relaxed into this woman who I loved. She shuddered when my fingers slid up and down her waist.

  Her breathing was ragged and she whispered, “Sweetie, I have missed you.”

  “God, do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” I gazed at her through hooded eyes. “Ever since I met you.” My hard-on pressed against her pelvis. She lowered her mouth onto mine again and I lost myself in the warmth of her delicious mouth, her soft tongue. I felt safe and manly with her. I loved Rosalyn.

  We kissed for a few more minutes, and then she broke away, looking at me with those big brown eyes. “Jax, if we decide to go ahead with this, you have to promise me that you will never tell another soul. Ever.”

  My heart pounded, my head spinning with sensations of love. “Oh Roz, I can have a lot of self-control. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  She stared at me for what seemed like hours. “Promise?”

  “Yes, Rosalyn. I promise.”

  “And you have to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid like say you love me.”

  I did love her. Yet, I would do anything, say anything, or not say anything she needed. “Yes, Rosalyn. I promise.” That was a no brainer.

  “And this whole thing is against my better judgment.” She sat on the sofa again, eying her bong. Pot made her loose, so who was I to argue?

  “Want me to light that for you?” I said, reaching for her lighter. After a deep toke she stretched out putting her legs over mine. She studied me with a small smile. “You’re a virgin but I’m not. I want you to know that I just had my check-up with the doctor the other day and I’m clean. And I’m on the pill.” She wagged a finger at me. “No baby making.”

  “So, where do we start?” I asked, filled with anticipation.

  “We start,
Mr. Jax Priest, with advanced kissing techniques.” She smiled that gorgeous smile and said, “I think I still have a few things to show you.”

  I was a willing student.

  * * *

  My world completely changed the day Rosalyn and I had sex. Over the next couple of months, we fell into a beautiful routine of getting together whenever our schedules allowed for her tutoring sessions. I learned to be a decent kisser, kissing her from head to toe, her body shivering under my touch. Sometimes we would lie on the sofa, our limbs all tangled up, and just kiss. We took showers together. We experimented with every position I wanted, and I learned her favorites: she liked to be on top, and I would use either my fingers or one of her vibrators to stimulate her until she came. Sometimes she’d want me on top where I learned to move my pelvis so it hit her clitoris just right until I felt those heavenly contractions.

  As much as I had thought about sex and bragged about chicks (that I had never been with) to my surfing buddies down at the beach, the reality was so much better than I could have ever anticipated.

  Nothing had prepared me for how lovely her scent and taste would be, like a gourmet feast. When I entered her, it felt like I was falling into an abyss of heat and pleasure and sensuality filled with turquoise and magenta. I was in an ocean surrounded by soft, feminine mermaids. More exhilarating than any surf session I’d ever had, the endorphins filling every cell in my body with sensations of light and love. I was sure there were words to explain what I was feeling in the dictionary somewhere, but I had never seen those words. It was like everything I had been waiting for all my life was right there in Rosalyn’s arms. I wanted to touch her hair, feel the creaminess of her skin, inhale that earthy sandalwood scent, get lost inside of her, and stay there. Forever. I wanted Rosalyn’s face to be the first thing I saw every morning and the last thing I saw every night. I wanted to fly into the deep, dark sky, and arrange the stars into the word “Rosalyn.”

  I willingly went along with whatever Rosalyn wanted and what she wanted was to train me to be her lover. During the time we were together, Rosalyn taught me everything I know about sex.

  “You know all those pornos you’ve seen where they show a guy banging away inside some chick, and she’s screaming and looks like she’s coming?” she said.

  I knew those movies very well because I’d watched them. I ducked my head. “Yes.”

  “Well,” she told me, “That’s not the way a woman comes.”

  Rosalyn taught me exactly how to bring a woman to orgasm. I learned how to find her clitoris. She showed me the way it swelled when she became aroused. She told me that the vast majority of women only have orgasms through clitoral stimulation. “It’s super nice to have a guy inside.” She smiled. “But that’s not the way a woman comes.”

  With a hand mirror, she pointed out exactly where everything was. I learned how to tell if Rosalyn was having an orgasm. Her pelvis would tighten, and I’d feel the contractions, even if I wasn’t inside her. “If a woman ever fakes an orgasm, you’ll know because you won’t feel them.” I wanted to tell her that there would never be another woman, but I kept quiet.

  Rosalyn showed me how to stimulate her G-spot for a better orgasm and how to use all those sex toys. Most of them were meant for clitoral stimulation. “Whoever invented all those big huge dildos was probably a guy,” she said. “Because they like the way they look in the package.”

  I learned that when I squeezed or sucked her nipples, it created pelvic contractions, which brought her to orgasm faster. I learned that Rosalyn’s right nipple was more sensitive than her left and that she liked her nipples to be pinched hard, but only after we’d worked up to that. I discovered that after Rosalyn had an orgasm, the bottom of her feet tingled.

  Rosalyn taught me how to perform oral sex. “Don’t just dive in and start sucking like a madman,” she said. “A woman’s clitoris is super sensitive. Start slow, with kisses and light touches, then, when you see me getting aroused, work your way up from there.” She taught me exactly how to make her come with the right amount of pressure with my mouth, tongue, and fingers. Then, when she came, she wanted me to put my fingers inside her so I could feel her contractions.

  She showed me her collection of sex books, which included titles like The Hite Report: A Nationwide Study on Female Sexuality, and She Comes First. I devoured those books like there’d be a test. I learned that women were able to have as many orgasms as they wanted. And the most interesting thing of all when you think about it, is that a female orgasm didn’t have anything to do with making babies, so it must be for pure pleasure. I thought that was pretty cool; no baby making, just, as Rosalyn would say, having fun.

  But the most important thing I learned from Rosalyn was how to love a woman. I fell deeply in love with her. I’d hold her soft body in my warm embrace, as if I could protect her from all the dangers in the world. It was up to me to make sure Rosalyn was cared for, her life filled with the pleasure she deserved.

  It was perfect.

  I’d never been happier.

  I finally understood the meaning of love.

  Rosalyn

  I wasn’t planning on falling in love with Jax. It just kind of happened.

  Once I made the decision to rekindle our relationship, I was filled with happiness and dread. A psychiatrist could have a field day with my contradictions.

  In more lucid moments, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and shuffle into my tiny bathroom. I’d gaze at my reflection in the mirror wondering who this person was, a stranger taking advantage of a young man. When I had those thoughts, I’d splash cold water on my face, trudge back to bed, pull the covers over my head, and sink into erotic dreams of Jax. Then, I’d wake up in the morning, take a bong hit, and push to the back of my mind the inappropriateness of what I was doing.

  Jax had become quite the protector and it made life so much easier. One day, Jax and I went downtown San Diego to meet my pot dealer.

  “It’s not safe for you down there,” he’d said.

  “Okay, Mr. Bodyguard, let’s go.” I knew better than to argue because Jax never let me lift a finger and was always protecting me.

  The Gaslamp District, in downtown San Diego was an area of high-rise office buildings mixed with chic restaurants where yuppie types enjoyed alfresco dining in the warm California weather. There was also a fair amount of homeless people drifting through life, sad looks on their faces.

  I’d found the guy who sold me pot through a friend at work, and he must’ve been close to Jax’s age. Jax and I made it to the corner, right by the McDonald’s, and I spied my dealer trotting away from his dented Ford. He jogged toward us and said, “Who’s this?” taking a hard look at Jax.

  “He’s cool,” I said, palming him a C-note. He glanced over his shoulder and handed me a baggie filled with bright green pot.

  “See ya,” he said, and high-tailed it. I shoved the bag into my purse.

  “Well, that was fun,” Jax said. “Time for Rosalyn’s party to start.” He shoved me playfully. “I like the way pot makes you horny.”

  “Guess I’d better keep my supply coming then.”

  It was a bright, hot day as we walked down the street, and Jax was in a particularly joking mood. He kept flicking my ears, and every time I looked his way, he’d put his hands in his pockets, whistling, glancing the other way. Then, when someone walked by, he’d trip me and catch me in his powerful arms. “Rosalyn, have you been drinking again?” I shoved him away, and then he’d start the whole routine again.

  “Will you quit?” I finally said, punching him in the arm. Jax and I never held hands or had any public displays of affection, but we were having so much fun that day, that I impulsively turned, giving him a quick peck on the mouth, then held his hand as we practically skipped down the street. We turned the corner, laughing, hand in hand, and ran straight into Tyler coming out of The Bottom Line.

  It looked like he was still adjusting to the bright afternoon light, and he squinted, his
eyes going straight down to Jax’s and my clasped hands. We quickly let go.

  “Oh, uh, hey,” Tyler stammered.

  My face flushed. I piped up and said, “Hi, sweetheart!” moving him into a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just collecting a check from the manager,” he said, jerking one thumb in the direction of the bar. “What’re you guys doing?”

  “Oh, you know, your brother here is running an errand with me.”

  Tyler squinted his eyes. “Yeah? What kind of errand?”

  Jax and I glanced at each other. Jax said, “Rosalyn needed to meet—”

  I said, “I had to get some medicine.”

  Tyler said, “Medicine? Are you sick?”

  “Let’s just tell him what we’re doing. I didn’t want Rosalyn coming down here alone to meet her dealer.”

  Rosalyn shot me a warning look. “It’s a kind of medicine, right? I mean, it’s going to be legal one day, I’ll bet.”

  Tyler put his hands in front of him. “Hey, it’s cool guys.” His gaze fell to our hands. “Were you guys holding hands?”

  Shock sliced through my body. “What? No, I mean, I don’t think so. No. What’re you talking about?”

  Jax said, “I’ll bet it’s dark in the club. You didn’t see …”

  Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Looked like you were holding hands.”

  “Hey!” I said, “When’s your band playing again?”

  “Couple weeks.” Tyler deliberately lowered his head, staring at our hands. Distancing myself from Jax, I shifted from foot to foot.

  “Well honey, I can’t wait to see you play again.”

  The three of us stood in uncomfortable silence, Tyler’s gaze shifting from Jax’s face to mine, then back to Jax. Finally, he said, “You guys need a ride?”

  “No. We brought Ol’ Betsy,” I said.

  “Jax, you need a ride? Maybe Rosalyn has work?” Tyler said.

  Jax’s head jerked in my direction. “Nope, don’t need a ride. This isn’t the best part of town. I’m going to make sure Roz gets back to her car safely.”