“I must be special, then.”
“You’re something.” He smiled wider. “So are you gonna tell me?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow and rising up on his elbow, obviously excited for whatever I might reveal.
“Two? Maybe three?”
“Why do you sound unsure?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I was a journalist, remember?”
“Okay, that’s true.” I gave him a playful shove to his shoulder, wondering if photojournalists conduct interviews but being too embarrassed to ask. Which I found exceptionally strange considering I’d hired this guy as my personal sexpert and we were currently discussing our masturbatory schedules.
“My question stands. Is that the number? Two or three? A good journalist won’t allow someone to dodge a question.”
Grayson knew how to make me laugh, and it made it easier to be open with him.
“Off the record?”
“You have my word,” he answered seriously.
“Two might be a high estimate.”
I didn’t know how to read the “Ooookay” that he responded with, but I didn’t have to because he followed it up with, “So when was the last time?”
I was quiet for a moment as I acclimated to the warmth spreading through my body at the memory. Now that I had Grayson as my realistic fantasy, maybe I’d touch myself more often. Reaching over, he put a hand on my arm and rubbed it slowly. I wondered if he could feel the goosebumps that had popped up.
“A few days ago,” I answered honestly. “When we agreed to this…arrangement.”
That made him laugh out loud.
“What?” I said, reaching out to hit him again.
This time he grabbed my wrist. It didn’t hurt, but it was firm enough to keep me from bringing my arm back to me. He held it there for a moment, probably gauging my reaction before slowly releasing it. I missed the feel of his fingers around me more than I wanted to admit out loud. At least not yet. Though that might be a conversation I’d be willing to have at a later date.
“Why’d you laugh?” I asked.
Grabbing my hips unexpectedly, he rolled me over so instead of being on my side, my back was flat against the mattress. Before I knew it, his hips were between my legs, and one of his hands pinned my smaller ones above me. His cock was hard. So, so hard. It made it tough to focus.
“I just find it coincidental that your once or twice a week happened the same day we decided to start sleeping with each other, that’s all.”
I exhaled heavily as he moved over me slowly. “Don’t flatter yourself. You told me to do a little research, so I ended up watching porn, and—”
Nipping along my neck, he said, “I wish I’d thought to call that research when I was in middle school.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out as an awkward moan. I wondered if he was going to speed up because the long, slow strokes over my drenched pussy were killing me, and his weight over me was too much for me to control the intensity of the movement. He definitely had the power, and the realization turned me on even more.
“So what’d you watch?” he groaned.
“I don’t remember the name of it or anything.”
“But you liked it?”
“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have watched it if I didn’t.”
“Tell me about it.”
Not sure what he wanted to know exactly, I began, “It was male-female, which is really the only kind I’ve ever watched.” Our breathing was heavy now, both of us grinding against the other more frantically. I craved him inside me, but he didn’t have a condom on, and there was no way I’d ask him to stop what he was doing to get one. “The guy was in leather.”
“You into that?” he breathed.
“I didn’t think so.” God, I was so close again. “But he had one of those cat-o’-nine-tails things, and he was dragging it over her body. So slowly,” I huffed. “So lightly. Like a feather.”
“Did it make you come?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard, my eyes shutting as I tried to draw out the pleasure before I shattered beneath him. “You’re gonna make me come too.”
I barely got the words out before he told me to let go, essentially granting me the permission I didn’t know I’d been waiting for. His cock moved over me, hitting my clit, my pussy, and just enough of my asshole to make me reconsider my initial thoughts on anal.
When I finally came, it was like an explosion over him. I could feel how wet I was—hear it—as he ground over me. I wished he’d been inside me again because the orgasm felt hollow somehow—all tingly and shaky with nothing to hold on to as my vagina pulsed.
A few seconds later, he groaned lowly as he buried his head in the crook of my neck, and I knew he was close to coming.
“Go,” I told him.
At my command, he pulled back, frantically grabbing ahold of himself and pumping his fist. I was thinking about how it was the hottest thing I’d probably ever seen when he finished and warm come spilled from him, landing between my legs on the sheet.
He collapsed next to me, both of us still struggling to catch our breath. “There’s my twice daily,” he joked.
Letting my head roll to the side so I could look at him, I smiled. “And there’s my Triple Crown.”
Chapter Nine
GRAYSON
“I feel weird going in here,” I said as I held the door for Isla to enter in front of me.
“Why? It’s something we all do,” she said as her head swept over the space, no doubt taking it all in.
“We all wear puppy masks and tails?” I asked as I let my hand drift over the leather paraphernalia.
“Well, maybe not that. But we all have sex.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled widely. “At least we do now.”
The memory of our first encounter together flooded through my mind, making my pants feel a bit tighter. Despite her confessed lack of experience, Isla was beautiful, fun, and clearly game for anything if our current location was any indication. The fact that she’d chosen me to go on this no-strings sexual journey with her was probably the best luck I’d ever had in my life.
“So what looks interesting to you?” I asked to get us back on track before I dragged her back to my apartment to show her how resourceful I could be with just my hands.
“I’m not—”
“Welcome to the Love Den,” a deep voice said behind us. “What can I help you find today?”
We both whirled around, startled by the sudden words, and took in the interloper. The guy in front of us was rail thin and about five-foot-five with platinum-blond hair, a mesh tank top, and tattoos covering most of his skin. Two nipple piercings poked through the holes in the material.
He oozed confidence, and it threw me off-kilter, maybe because I hadn’t been expecting to see a man working here. I was supposed to be the sex guru, but being confronted with a man who worked in a shop that sold sex toys was making me self-conscious of my “sexing” abilities. This was the kind of guy who should be guiding Isla through her discovery. Not that I’d ever suggest that. Young, dumb, and emo would have to find his own apprentice.
Isla’s eyes tracked over the man whose name tag read Cyrus. It took her a moment to refocus on his face and answer him. “We’re not sure exactly. Just kind of browsing.”
“That’s cool.” He nodded slowly, his eyes darting between us. He stood there without saying more until the moment became awkward.
An awkwardness Isla evidently felt she had to fill. “This is kind of new to us, so we thought we’d start off easy. Maybe just some vibrators and such.”
“For you or him?” Cyrus asked, tossing his thumb in my direction as he spoke.
My head jolted back as if he’d clocked me in the jaw. While I suppose I knew theoretically some guys would be into vibrators—and more power to them—I’d never thought about the possibility before. It was slightly jarring to contemplate.
“Uh, me, I guess.” Her words were stilted, and I hoped to h
ell it wasn’t because she was contemplating asking if she could shove something up my ass. If so, I was going to kill this fucking kid.
“That’s cool. It’s not everybody’s thing.” His tone made it seem like he was calling me a closed-off asshole—literally. “The vibrators are along the back wall. The dildos and anal plugs are over there too.”
Nodding quickly and murmuring “Thanks,” I put my hand on the small of Isla’s back and led her toward the back.
“Now do you feel weird?” I asked.
“So incredibly weird,” she whispered back.
And it only got more peculiar when we arrived at the floor-to-ceiling faux-cock display. There was every size, color, and thickness imaginable. I plucked one monster off the wall and examined it.
“I feel so intimidated.”
“Me too,” Isla said. “Put it back before my vagina decides to wall itself off from invaders.”
Barking out a laugh, I put the phallus back on the wall. Her joke broke some of the tension that had wormed its way into the moment.
She smiled at me before turning her attention back to the wall. “Which one do you want to shove up your ass?”
And the tension was back. At least until I turned and saw her fighting off a smile.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Oh, I’m thinking about it. I’m also thinking about Cyrus giving you tips on how to insert it.”
I groaned loudly. “God, why?”
“Please don’t reference God while we’re in this place. It feels blasphemous. So which one should we get?”
“I feel like that’s not a decision for me to make?”
“Why not?” she asked, sounding genuinely baffled.
“Because we’ve already established that it’s not going inside of me.”
“But you’ll be the one putting it in me, so don’t you want to have a say?”
I honestly hadn’t thought I’d be doing even that much. Expecting my role to be relegated to voyeur in that scenario, her words opened a whole new world of intrigue for me. My ex had never been one to experiment with sex toys—at least not with me. I knew she had a vibrator she got at her bachelorette party, but she’d never referenced using it. It struck me then that I had more intimate knowledge of Isla than I had of the woman I’d been married to for four years. And wasn’t that a major mindfuck?
“What about this one?” I asked, grabbing a light purple one that was fairly slender with a slight curve at the top. If there were such things as beginner vibrators, this one looked like it would qualify.
She took it from me and studied the package. “Ooh, it has a remote.”
I wasn’t sure why that was exciting, but I adored her enthusiasm.
She tucked it under her arm and started moving so she could see the other offerings on the wall, stopping in front of the anal beads and letting her fingers reach out and graze them.
“We talked about trying anal. Should we get some of these to, like, warm up the area?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” I replied, which was a poor choice of words. Christ. “These ones?” I asked, pulling a set of smooth balls joined together by a string off the wall.
“Yeah, they look good.”
I held on to them as we continued to wander. “Here are the nipple clamps,” I pointed out.
She grimaced. “I’m still on the fence about those. They look…painful.”
Nodding, I moved on, not wanting to dwell on thoughts of pain. I was only after pleasure during my time with Isla.
“Oh, there are those feather duster things you were talking about.”
She burst out laughing. “They’re not feather dusters! And when was I talking about those?”
My forehead scrunched up. “Wasn’t that the porn you got off to?”
“No, that was a cat-o’-nine-tails.”
Oh yeah. The cat-o’-nine-tails was frightening. I knew she had gotten off on watching someone just being gently stroked with it, but it still felt like a purchase better reserved for someone who’d firmly earned their kink card.
“Can’t we use that to accomplish the same feeling?”
She walked over to the feathers and gently touched one before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.” Picking one up, she added, “We need a basket or something.”
“I’ll go grab one.” I began making my way toward the front of the store, passing Cyrus, who was sitting on the counter tapping away on his phone. His head popped up when I passed.
“Need anything, man?” he asked.
It felt like there were so many things I needed, I wasn’t sure how to even respond. So I simply shook my head and kept moving, grabbing a basket and hustling back to where Isla was browsing through glow-in-the-dark cock rings.
“Are these one-size-fits-all, or is there a sizing chart somewhere?” she asked, looking sincere and curious before holding the package up in front of my—well, package. I found myself looking down at her hand as if this was a totally legitimate way to choose a cock ring.
What even was my life anymore?
Chapter Ten
ISLA
We went back to Grayson’s place after we left the Love Den. By unspoken agreement, it had seemed his apartment was going to serve as our version of the Red Room of Pain. And I say pain because for some reason I put the nipple clamps into our basket after we’d made our fourth trip around the store. There was something about them I was drawn to even though they looked like terrifying little Tyrannosaurus rex claws.
Grayson dropped our bags on his coffee table, and we both sat down on the couch so we could riffle through them.
“Where did these come from?” he asked as he held up a pack of flavored condoms.
“Cyrus threw them in as a bonus.”
“Bonus for what?”
“A bonus for buying two hundred dollars’ worth of stuff.”
“How thoughtful,” he said, his voice as dry as the Sahara.
“It was. He was nice.”
Grayson had an intense dislike of our Love Den pal, and I couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy to help, especially when I’d asked him if the efficacy of the clit- and nipple-sucker set was based on real science or porn-star logic. Seemed I had a lot to learn about blood flow and how big my nipples could get.
He grunted noncommittally and continued sorting through our stash before he sank back onto the couch.
“Where do we start?”
Surveying the things on the table, I bit my lower lip. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think I want to start with the clamps.”
Sitting up quickly, Grayson looked over at me. “Really? Those barely even made it home with us.”
“Yeah, but they’re also the things I’m most intrigued about. I feel like if I just use them, I’ll know whether I’m into pain or not, and I can put that curiosity to bed.”
“I think we’re tackling a lot of curiosities in bed,” he said with a smirk.
“You’re an incredibly big dork for a sex Yoda.”
“That is literally the least hot thing you could’ve called me.”
“Don’t like that one, huh?” Tapping my lip with my index finger, I pretended to think. “What about my Love Den guide?”
Grimacing, he muttered, “Makes me think of Cyrus.”
“You seem a little obsessed with him. Something you want to tell me?” His glare told me there was not. “Okay, how about… Damn it, what was the word I thought of the other night…a sexpert! That’s perfect.” I smiled widely until I realized he wasn’t laughing like I thought he would.
Rubbing his hands over his jean-clad thighs, he looked up at me intently. “You do know that I’m not a real expert, right?” I opened my mouth to respond, but he rushed on. “I mean, I’ve had sex. Lots of sex. I mean, not lots in a manwhore kind of way, but I was married, and we tried some things. Sexy things. But, I mean, what I’m trying to say is, I’m not…I don’t, like, tie women up in sex dungeons and make them call me Master or Daddy or whatever the fuc
k. If I had to quantify my experience level, I’d say I was proficient with room for growth, ya know? Definitely not hitting expert status.”
I tried not to laugh. Honestly I did. But it slipped out, and the small giggle quickly morphed into an uncontrollable belly laugh that I had next to no control over.
He narrowed his eyes at me like he wanted to bury my body in a landfill somewhere. “I’m glad you find my confession so amusing.”
He looked guarded for the first time since I’d met him, and that sobered me almost instantly. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you. You just haven’t started laughing yet.” When my attempted joke fell flat, I turned more fully toward him and laid my hand atop his.
But he quickly shook it off. “Stop that. It makes me feel like we’re in the breakup scene of a Lifetime movie.”
That made me snort out a laugh again, but I was able to rein it in before it got out of control. Thankfully this time he smiled a little too.
“Gray…can I call you Gray? Your name is so long.”
He rolled his eyes and motioned me to continue.
I took that as a yes. “Gray, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were some kind of Dom trainer or something. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. I just want someone who’s willing to go looking for the answers with me.” I took a deep breath, hoping my words would sink in. “I don’t need someone who’s an expert by other people’s standards. I just need someone who’s an expert by mine. Who can be my sexpert.”
The way he stared into my eyes as if he were searching for something was oddly reassuring. He was taking this seriously, and I appreciated the hell out of his desire to make this worthwhile for me.
Finally, he nodded and turned his attention back to the table, grabbing the nipple clamps and ripping open the packaging. He spent a couple of minutes reading over the instructions before he adjusted them somehow and then turned to me.
“Give me your finger,” he said.
Without hesitation, I pointed my index finger at him and watched as he hooked the clamp into my skin.
Misadventures with a Sexpert Page 7
