Sexual Healing: An Erotic Novel

by Matt Shaw

  She never had cancer. She never died. The only thing which passed was the love in our relationship. She packed her bags, she told me she didn’t want to be with me anymore. I begged her to stay but - in her eyes - we were done. She’d been offered a job overseas and she took it. When she walked out of the house, bags in hand, I never spoke to her again. The only contact I had being through our divorce lawyers. I distanced myself from our mutual friends; the ones who knew the truth and, before I knew it, I had fabricated the lie that she had died. I thought it would be easier to move on if I thought she were dead but it wasn’t the case. If anything it made me miss her that little more. I know it’s pathetic. I meant to just use the lie to myself but - soon - I started telling other people too; the ones who never knew us. I wouldn’t come outright and say it but, I mean, if they asked I told them that she’d died. I actually feel embarrassed about it but I couldn’t help myself and - as proven with Danni - I still can’t help myself. It was supposed to be a way of protecting myself mentally but it just turned into a bigger and bigger lie; one I couldn’t back out of without coming across even worse than just going ahead with it.

  Not speaking to Michelle since she left has been killing me. I’ve wanted to call her daily but could never bring myself to phone. Not even when I was blind drunk on whiskey. I’d just sit there looking at her number displayed on the screen. For all I know the number doesn’t even work anymore.

  I don’t expect people to understand why I did what I did - or continue to do. I know it’s stupid, especially as I want her back; the role-playing appointments with Danni confirming that. Danni. I felt bad for lying to her too. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out and - once that’s happened - there’s no turning back. Can only press on with the lie and hope it fades to the back of their memory after time. I tried to stop thinking about it - what’s done is done and it’s not doing me any favours dwelling on it. So why can’t I seem to let it go?

  A ringing tone?

  I looked down to my phone and noticed I’d accidentally pressed dial. I went to hang it up but stopped myself. No. Leave it. I need to talk to her. I need to get my feelings out in the open and off my chest. If there is way back to be had it will need to start with a phone call. I laughed to myself as the line continued to ring; imagine explaining that to my friends. The ones who believe her to be dead at least.

  “Love conquers all?”

  The phone clicked through to a voice mail service offering to take a message. I went to speak but stuttered like a fool. Not sure what to say. Didn’t think this one through properly. I hung up before I made a bigger idiot of myself. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  SHIT!

  I tossed the phone to one side and looked out of the car’s window, back towards the apartment block. Here I am making a fool of myself and, over there is a woman I am making a fool of with my lies. To hell with it. I can at least fix one thing tonight. I can’t go on like this; lying to people, lying to myself. Things will change, from tonight.

  I opened the car door and headed back towards the apartment with my broken heart beating so fast I thought it were going to burst through my chest. Once at the door, I pressed the buzzer and took a deep breath.

  Chapter Nine

  Sitting on the toilet patiently waiting for the bath to fill with hot water, the sound of the buzzer made me jump. I didn’t have any more appointments booked, what with my one session a day rule, and this wasn’t a place I tended to get unannounced visitors. Ignore it. They’ll go away.

  The buzzer rang again for a second time, and then a third. I sighed and walked from the bathroom to the intercom system by the front door.

  “Hello?” I answered. Jake’s voice crackled through. Must have forgotten something. I pressed the door release button and quickly went back to the bathroom to turn the running water off. I’m sure he won’t be here for long but, regardless, don’t want it accidentally overflowing. That would be all I needed. There was a knock on the front door.

  “I’m sorry to come barging back in,” he said.

  “Not a problem,” I said, tightening the belt on my dressing gown. “Did you forget something? I didn’t see anything when I was tidying up.”

  “No. I just needed to talk. I won’t take up much time…”

  “Talk?”

  I felt my heart sink. I should have listened to my business head when we first started with these role-playing games. It was too close to real-life. It was too easy to get confusing feelings involved. I shouldn’t have gone with my heart; I wanted to help him. So stupid. A rookie mistake. I prepared myself to tell him it was all nothing but a business arrangement; a carefully prepared speech I’d come up with years ago for the people who ended up falling in love with me - not that there have been many, compared to the number of clients who’ve come and gone with no ugly feelings involved.

  “I lied to you,” he said.

  Okay I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Let’s go through to the living room,” I told him. I walked him through to the sofa, all the time wondering what he had lied to me about. More to the point - why he felt it important to come clean about it? It’s not as though we’re friends. We have no relationship beyond the front door. I sat down on the sofa. He hesitated in the doorway; a look of guilt on his face. Just spit it out already. “What is it?” I asked him.

  “She’s not dead,” he said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Michelle. She isn’t dead. I lied.”

  Of all the things he could have said to me, that was probably the last thing I expected from him. “Why did you lie to me?” I asked him directly. It puzzled me because - at the end of the day - he didn’t even need to bring her into the appointment. He could have left ‘real world’ stuff at the door. There was no need for it.

  “It’s not just you. I told myself she was dead too when she first left me. I thought it would be easier to deal with. Easier to move on from.” He sighed heavily, “I was wrong.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him. It all sounded a little messed up. Certainly a first.

  “I saw your picture and how much you looked like her - just felt like I needed to see you. Just wanted to remind myself what it was like to be with her. I don’t expect you to understand…”

  “No, it’s fine, I do. I get it.”

  I didn’t get it. If she were not dead, I didn’t understand why he didn’t try and fight to get her back. And if the relationship crumbled for whatever reason - why would he not move on to someone new? It might be hard to begin with but it wouldn’t be impossible. Relationships end every day. God knows, in my line of work, I have seen enough of them failing. It doesn’t mean life needs to stop.

  “You do?” he seemed almost surprised. I kept up appearances and nodded.

  “I’m actually a little relieved,” I continued with a smile.

  “You are?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, “I actually thought you were going to tell me you’d fallen in love with me and how we should be together!”

  He laughed too, “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not, so I quickly answered before he had a chance to picture how our relationship would work out. “Yes. This is a business arrangement.” I tried to make a joke out of it, “It gets embarrassing when people talk about loving me. The amount of men who think they love me… Their sudden realisation of this usually coming to them when I have their penis in my mouth,” I laughed. “They don’t love me, they love the idea of sex.”

  He laughed. I wasn’t sure whether this was out of politeness or whether he really did see the funny side of it.

  He hesitated a moment, “Well - thank you for understanding. I just felt as though I needed to clear the air.” He backed out of the living room and into the hallway as though making a retreat. I stood up and walked with him.

  “Honestly, it’s fine.”

  He nodded - a sign of his gratitude to my understanding - as he headed towards the front do
or.

  “Have you tried contacting her?” I asked as his hand reached for the door handle. He froze. “Clearly you still love her. I mean, you chose to see me because I looked like her, there’s obviously feelings there still.”

  “She doesn’t want to be with me.”

  “So that’s it? You just give up?”

  “She moved overseas. Got a job.”

  I hesitated a moment, “You ever think she left you because she thought it would be easier than asking you to pack your stuff and go with her?” We both stood there in silence as the weight of what I said sunk in. “Never crossed your mind?”

  He shook his head.

  “I tried calling her tonight but she didn’t pick up.”

  “Might be at work. Where is she?”

  “America.”

  “Take the time difference into consideration?”

  He shook his head again. I smiled, “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

  “It’s been five years. She’d have moved on.”

  “Like you have?”

  He turned the door handle and pulled the door open.

  “Thank you for your time,” he said. “I appreciate it and - once again - sorry for lying.”

  He stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed.

  I’m not sure why - I should have been angry that he’d lied to me - but I still felt sorry for him although, being honest, I couldn’t understand why it was so hard to move on from someone who’d simply walked out of their relationship. Maybe it would have been harder if it ended on good terms; the lady saying she still loved him but had to leave for work. I could understand that a little more. He’d wait around on the off-chance things didn’t work out in the new job and she’d come home. But most break-ups end with harsh words. Before this job, I’d had a normal relationship. It didn’t end well and words were exchanged. As soon as my ex walked out of the door (and my life) I didn’t have any problems moving on to someone else. If anything - just for revenge and to prove I am good enough to be someone’s partner.

  As I walked back through to the bathroom, turning the taps back on for my bath, I tried to understand why he suddenly felt the need to come clean to me. Was it part of the healing process? Was he getting ready to move on by admitting his lies to people? I didn’t know and I guessed I’d never know. To be fair it’s not really my business. My business is making them cum. Nothing more and nothing less. Therapy through sex.

  The bath was nearly full now. I disrobed and slipped into the warm (f not hot) water.

  Chapter Ten

  I was still parked up in the carpark. I’d collected my phone from where I’d earlier tossed it and loaded up her phone number once more. Danni’s words kept replaying through my mind; had she really dumped me because she didn’t want to pull me away from my life? I should have called her immediately. I should have… I shouldn’t have just let her go from my life so easily. All these years wishing I were with her, the love of my life, and yet I just let her go. Why didn’t I fight harder for her? I couldn’t. She’d got her dream job. It wasn’t fair to get in the way of that. I loved her. I really loved her and so I let her go. That’s why I didn’t fight. I didn’t make it any harder for her than it was already; leaving her family back in this country whilst she went off to try and make a career for herself. Even so - what would have happened if I had chased her across the waters?

  Couldn’t take my eyes off the number.

  Five years.

  That’s a long time. Most people - in that sort of timeframe - would have moved on. They would have found someone new. Maybe, in that time, they’d have even started a family. Oh God, the thought of her playing house with a new man and - possibly - some kids too.

  I deleted the number with a single tap of the screen.

  I don’t want to know if she has settled with a new family. It would hurt too much. And - as tempting as it would be - I can’t afford to leave the country to go over to her. She’s gone and she isn’t coming back. Jesus. Five years and I’m only just realising this. I actually feel pretty foolish; more so because I’m only realising this after paying for the sexual services of a woman who happened to look like my Michelle.

  Fucking idiot.

  I fired up my car’s engine and drove from the carpark.

  *

  I was lying on top of her, kissing her passionately. The beautiful Danni. She wasn’t role-playing as Michelle. She was being herself. A different kind of appointment. One hand tenderly touching the side of her face. The other hand on her buttock, lifting it slightly to allow for a deeper penetration; my penis buried - bareback - deep into her wet pussy as I slowly made love to her savouring the way she gripped me tightly inside of her. Neither of us spoke as we made love. Both lost in the moment, enjoying each other’s tender touch. I pushed into her and she groaned softly in my ear; a sound I will never tire from from hearing. I ran my hand from her face down to her breasts; both nipples erect, begging to be sucked when I get the opportunity. She must have read my mind as she whispered in my ear not to stop before she gently nibbled it between her teeth; something which drives me wild with desire. I started to increase the speed with which I penetrated her and - in turn - she increased the volume of her sighs of pleasure; both of us building to a shared orgasm. Together we rolled over so that I was on my back and she was on top of me - helped by her putting a hand on my shaft to save it from slipping from her slippery cunt. She started riding me; slowly and passionately - continuing to sigh as she did. I rested my head back on the pillows and watched as my erection slid in and out of her. Shifting my focus a little higher up, I couldn’t help but smile as she started to fondle her breasts and squeeze her erect nipples; not for my viewing pleasure but rather the pleasure it gave her - the fine little balance between pleasure and pain. Her head was tilted back and her hair flowed down her back. She leaned forward and looked me in the eyes as she put her hands on my chest in order to give her the necessary balance to ride me faster, harder. We weren’t making love anymore. We were fucking. I gritted my teeth as I resisted the urge to shoot into her snatch. My testicles tingling as the pleasurable sensations nearly become too much. I warned her to slow down or else I’d cum. She smiled at me.

  “I want you to cum,” she purred. A look of pure lust in her eyes. She bit her bottom lip as she continued to up the pace with which she fucked me. I sat up and started to kiss her passionately as my hands fondled her pert buttocks. Her skin, so soft. So warm. I put my arms around her, holding her close and forcing her to slow her movements to a near stop. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  I flipped us both so that I was back on top and she was back on her back. I let my cock slide out of her. She asked again what I was doing. I couldn’t help but to smile at her as I spat some saliva into my hand before adding it to the wetness on my cock, dribbled there from her own juices. I put a hand under each of her knees and lifted her slightly from the bed before nudging my slippery hard-on against her inviting anus. She flashed me another smile before biting her lip once more, no doubt to stop from screaming out when I penetrate her ass.

  “Do it,” she murmured. “Hard!”

  I edged in slowly so as not to cause her any pain. She sighed as the tip of my cock forced its way in - helped by the lube of both cunt juice and spit. I held it there a while, letting her get used to the sensation, before pushing into her. The whole shaft disappeared into her rectum until my balls pressed against her cheeks.

  “That feels amazing,” she gasped as I pulled back slightly before pushing right back in again. She asked me to go slow for a while in order to get used to the sensation. I wasn’t about to argue with her. I closed my eyes and concentrated on not shooting my load too soon. “So fucking good…” she sighed. It did feel good. Really good as her tight little asshole continued to choke my cock, more so when she clenched her cheeks together. “Harder!” she ordered me, “Fuck me harder!”

  I did as requested and started to pump her as hard as I could; my ball
s slapping her cheeks as her asshole continued to greedily swallow my shaft.

  “I’m going to cum,” I moaned as the feelings of the orgasm continued to build within me. I tried to pull out but she held me tight with her hands on my buttocks and legs wrapped around me. I warned her again that I was going to cum.

  “Harder!” she screamed. “Cum inside of me,” she sighed. Her words, the final encouragement I needed as the orgasm shuddered through my body and my hot cum filled her stretching ass. I started to slow but she begged me not to, “A little longer,” she purred, “I’m so close.” I closed my eyes - ignoring the sensitivity in my penis - and resumed fucking her harder and deeper in an effort to push her over the edge to the orgasm she craved. She screamed out loud as it hit and her body started to twitch and shudder all over the place. I pulled back and my cock slipped out, along with a stream of my semen. I rolled onto my side next to where she lay. She turned to look at me, a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. “That was amazing,” she whispered.

  I smiled at her. It was amazing.

  She rolled onto her side and faced me.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she said. She seemed almost hesitate. Maybe even a little embarrassed.

  “When?”

  “About us.” She laughed, “Don’t make me say it.”

  I smiled at her, “I want you to say it. I want to hear it.”

  “You’re so cruel,” she laughed. She took a deep breath before letting it out slowly and then, “I was thinking about what you said about us as a couple; me not having to do this job anymore, what you said about protecting me from it and…”