It was definitely tight and pinched a little, but wasn’t what I would consider painful. “Not bad,” I told him, trying to infuse nonchalance into my voice. Inside, I was feeling a little squirrelly. An index finger was a lot different from a nipple, but no guts, no glory.
“Anything else you want to try?”
“Let’s give the vibrator a whirl. Get it? Whirl?”
He shook his head, but there was no hiding his smile. He opened that package as well and disappeared for a minute to clean it with the sex toy cleaner Cyrus had told us we needed. Then he returned and put in the batteries that had been included before snatching up the bottle of lube we’d gotten.
“Should we take this to the bedroom?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Following him into the room, I wondered how to dispel the heaviness that still hovered over us. But maybe there was no getting past it. This was a turning point for us—the beginning of our journey into Sex 2.0. No more vanilla. From here on out, we’d be mixing flavors like we were Ben and Jerry.
I just hoped we didn’t find out too late we were lactose intolerant.
GRAYSON
Watching her walk to the foot of my bed and then turn toward me expectantly, waiting for me to direct this show, was a heady experience. This was more pressure than I’d let myself shoulder since I’d moved to Monroe. And it was more responsibility for another person’s wants and needs than I thought I’d ever take on again.
But I watched her bite her lower lip and cross her arms lightly over her stomach, I decided to get the fuck over myself. This wasn’t a time for me to overthink or worry how I was being affected. None of this was about me—not really.
I tossed the toys on the bed, and in two long strides I was in front of her, putting a hand on the back of her neck and drawing her toward me so I could take her mouth with mine. The kiss wasn’t tentative or slow. As soon as our lips met, I darted my tongue into her mouth and took control, making it clear who was in charge here—who would look out for whom.
One of her hands came up to clasp the wrist of the hand I had on her nape while the other clutched at my shirt. She followed my every move, never seeking to lead, but her body pliant and willing to be led. When I pressed flush against her, she pushed back against me. When I reached between us so I could pop the button on her jeans, she canted her hips so I could have the access I needed. When I stepped back so I could quickly shuck my clothing, she stood still other than moving her hands over any exposed section of skin she could reach.
There was an urgency to my movements, a need to be naked with her as quickly as possible. She lifted her arms when I went to pull her shirt over her head and dropped them quickly when I unhooked her bra and dragged the straps down her biceps. Her chest heaved with every breath she took, and I knew that she felt the same thing I did. The time for talking and negotiating had passed.
Now it was time to just fucking feel. To experience. To enjoy.
I lowered her to the bed and let my chest rub against her pebbled nipples enough to stimulate them without making her bear too much of my weight. When the time for the clamps came, I wanted her to be begging for them. While I’d been looking them over in the living room, I’d adjusted them to only make her feel slight pressure instead of a pinch.
As I rutted against her, she moaned out, “Gray,” and I knew it was time. Reaching over, I grabbed the clamps and drew up to my knees. I kneaded her breasts for a moment, caressing her nipples before pinching them into hard peaks.
“Ready?” I asked.
Her hips lifted off the bed slightly so, I assumed, she could get some friction on her clit. “So ready.”
Bending down, I kissed her breathless for a second before I pulled back just enough to see what I was doing. I positioned the clamp on her nipple and slowly let go so it wouldn’t be jarring. When it closed on the sensitive bud, she gasped and arched her back as much as she could with me straddling her.
“Good?” I asked.
She was breathing deeply, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a good or bad thing. It took her a second to answer, but she finally breathed out a, “Fine. Do the other one.”
But I wasn’t in the mood to follow orders. So I played with the other nipple for a bit more, sucking on it while tugging gently on the string that hung from the attached clamp.
“Oh my fucking God,” she groaned.
Her words made my cock jump, and I wondered if I was maybe a bit more into torture than I’d originally thought. Pre-come pearled on the tip of my cock before sliding down the side. If I didn’t move this show along, I was going to come before I even got inside of her.
Attaching the second clamp the same way as I had the first elicited a similar response in Isla. She was panting and writhing beneath me, and I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to draw her like this—all blissed out and overloaded by sensation. It was hot as fuck.
Pulling gently on the strings that connected the clamps caused her eyes to widen before screwing shut. The way her hips kept rolling against my hard dick let me know that I hadn’t hurt her. Or at least not in a way she wasn’t into.
“How do they feel?” I whispered, my mouth hovering above hers.
“Jesus Christ, you want me to form words right now?”
I laughed but didn’t otherwise respond, which prompted her to continue.
“Feels…feels weird and different and like I could seriously maybe come from it eventually.”
That was a ringing endorsement if I’d ever heard one. I reached for the vibrator and turned it on so she could hear it while I clicked through the various settings.
“Any requests?” I asked.
“No,” she exhaled. “You…whatever you want.”
I really liked the sound of that. “Good answer.” Giving her a quick peck on the lips and another light pull on the string made her moan louder. I sat up so I could smother the vibrator in lube before I moved so I had better access to her pussy. Selecting the setting that made it pulsate quickly, I rested it against her clit first. As soon as it made contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, she damn near levitated off the bed.
“Please don’t ever stop doing that,” she whined.
Thankfully, the vibrator had a piece that would keep contact with her clit while I fucked her with the longer shaft. I changed the setting so the pace of the vibrations was a little slower before I dragged it down her crease until I was able to push it slowly into her willing body. Angling it so her clit was also in on the action, I started fucking her with the toy, slowly at first, but picking up speed as her breathing became more erratic.
Fuck, I loved this. Watching the vibrator go in and out of her body, seeing her body alight with pleasure I was in charge of giving, was making for one of the hottest sexual encounters of my life. I reached up with my free hand and tugged on the string again.
Her shoulders hunched forward, lifting her upper body off the bed momentarily before she crashed back down.
“You ready to come?” I asked her.
“So so so so ready.”
“Reach down and hold the vibrator. Keep fucking yourself with it while I release the clamps.” I was desperately hoping this didn’t ruin the whole thing. The instructions that came with them said the real pleasure came from taking them off, when the blood flooded back into the nipples, but that it was a pleasure born from pain. I wasn’t sure how Isla would react to the rush of pain though, which made this a tough call. But my gut said to go for it, so I would.
She took control of the toy between her legs, and I enjoyed watching her slide it in and out of herself for a minute before turning my attention back to the task at hand.
“Get yourself right at the edge,” I told her. “Tell me when you’re there.” I put my hands on the clamps, tweaking them a bit so they’d pinch a tiny bit more.
What felt like seconds later, she was groaning that she was ready.
“Take a deep breath,” I ordered.
As s
oon as she did, I released the clamps. A choked cry came out of her before her whole body seemed to be held in suspension for a second, and then a spasm rippled through her. She threw her head back into the mattress as she climaxed, her whole body tensed and shaking.
I took back control of the vibrator, continuing to fuck her with it, though I no longer held it in contact with her clit. Watching her in obvious rapture made it impossible for me to hold off anymore. I jerked my cock with my spare hand as I slowly worked the toy in and out of her.
At some point she must have come back to herself and realized what I was doing because she whispered, “Come on me, Gray. I want to feel it.”
And that was all it took. I erupted, come spurting out of me like my cock was a geyser. Letting the toy fall to the bed between her thighs, I willed myself to keep my eyes open so I could watch myself marking her.
Her fingers slipped down to where I’d come on her, and she spread it over her skin, which made my body shudder with aftershocks.
I continued milking my cock until I was sure every drop had been released. Looking down at her, I was certain I’d never seen a more debauched sight. It was fucking beautiful.
Our eyes locked, and neither of us said anything for a few long moments, content to enjoy the minute.
But eventually she sighed, smiled up at me, and said, “So, I think I really like the nipple clamps.”
I laughed before plopping down next to her, thinking about how much I really liked her, but not wanting to say that. Instead, I grabbed her hand and pulled it to my mouth so I could kiss it.
“Me too.”
Chapter Eleven
GRAYSON
Jessica was practically vibrating with excitement when she approached my desk. I assumed it was because she was going to thank me for convincing Mr. Thomas to let her show the professor around yesterday, so I was thrown completely off guard when she held out her phone.
“Have you checked your Instagram lately?”
“I don’t have an Instagram.”
“Not yours. I mean the paper’s.”
“No. Not lately.”
She placed her hands flat against my desk and bent down so she could make eye contact with me even though I was focused on my computer screen.
“Well, you need to. You’ve gotten a ton of followers.”
Taking my eyes off my work, I leaned back in my chair. “How many’s a ton?”
“Two thousand eight hundred and seventy-two,” she said.
“Holy shit! Really? Why?”
“Two thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven actually,” Mr. Thomas said. “Must’ve just got a few more. Not bad for a drawing.”
I tried to take his comment as a compliment, because I knew he meant it as one. He definitely seemed impressed that the paper had such a big following now.
Mr. Thomas continued, his tiny eyes alight with excitement. “Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.”
I knew he was trying to be encouraging, but part of me was nervous that I couldn’t maintain the page’s success. From my research, I knew enough to know that getting likes and followers on social media depended heavily on posting content consistently—enough to keep them engaged but still wanting more.
After Isla gave me the okay to post the cartoons, I’d put up ones of the first few dates she’d been on, but I hadn’t checked it since. That was over two weeks ago. The fact that I hadn’t heard about any upcoming dates—and the fact that I hadn’t even thought of that until Jess had told me of my sudden Instagram success—made me nervous about the sustainability of the Instagram account’s success.
I shot Isla a text and asked her to meet at the Bean.
A few hours later, I handed her the cup of herbal tea she liked and wondered what the best way to make my request would be.
“So, good news,” I began, and Isla’s eyes beamed at me. “The paper’s Instagram page is doing pretty well.”
“That’s great,” she said, tapping her cup against mine. “Cheers.”
“Yeah. It is. You’re a hit. Or the weirdos you’ve dated are a hit rather.”
After swallowing the sip of tea she’d taken, she laughed. “There was definitely some good material there.”
I passed a hand through my hair and sat down at the table we’d chosen in the corner.
“Definitely. Problem is, I’m out of it. I posted all the drawings I did already, but I need to keep up a steady stream of content.” I hesitated for a moment before coming out with it. “So I was wondering if you had any other dates lined up for the near future.”
“I actually don’t.” She shifted like the question made her uncomfortable, and it made me feel guilty for asking. She was doing me a favor by allowing me to post my cartoons, and I wasn’t in a position to make requests.
“No problem,” I said. “I guess if you get any, just let me know. I’ll make sure to be here.”
“I just haven’t logged into the app in a while,” she said, grabbing her phone from her bag and unlocking it. “After the last few, I figured everyone on there was a weirdo. Though I guess as far as you’re concerned, that’s a good thing.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
She offered me the phone. “Do you want to pick this time, or should I play some dating roulette?”
I held up my hands. “I’m not choosing. I can’t be responsible for what happens next. And besides, you’ve had such a stellar lineup so far, I don’t wanna ruin your streak.” Second-guessing my suggestion, I suddenly felt the need to say, “Wait, are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to force you to spend time with a bunch of whack jobs.”
She was already looking at the app. “It’s totally fine. Think of it as practice for the real thing. Like how getting it on with you helps me for future sexcapades.”
“Oh. Thanks?” I said, more as a question than an actual expression of gratitude.
Closing her eyes, she held the phone in one hand and scrolled with her thumb.
“Did you ever do this when you were little with a globe? Spin it without looking to see where you’d live when you grew up?”
With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see me smiling.
“Yeah. I never got anywhere good though.”
“Me neither.” She stopped scrolling and let the page come to a stop. “Okay.” She looked down briefly before clicking a button and setting her phone down. “Hunter it is. I’ll let you know if he messages me.”
“Oooh, Hunter. I like the sound of that. Do you think he built his own cabin in the wilderness and lives off squirrels and boiled pond water?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. Hunter sounds preppy to me, though. Like he rowed crew at his private high school and only wears designer socks.”
Chuckling, I said, “Can I see what he looks like, or do I have to wait to be surprised?”
Her eyes narrowed like the question amused her. “I think I’ll make you wait. We don’t even know if he’ll accept my request.”
“True. Why wouldn’t he, though?” I hadn’t thought about the implications of my question before I’d asked it. But now that it was out, I wondered how Isla would interpret it. Like I was a superficial douche who only judged women on their looks? Or like I wanted to date her? Which I didn’t, and the thought was probably freaking us both out. I know it was freaking me out. I didn’t want to date anyone.
She still hadn’t answered me. Maybe she thought the question was rhetorical. Was it? I need to change the subject.
“Did he look normal?”
“Don’t they all look normal?”
We stared at each other for a few silent seconds before both of our lips raised into ridiculous grins.
She spoke first. “Should I be as excited for this disaster as you are?”
“No,” I answered. “Probably not.”
ISLA
As I sat at the table at the Bean, my brain argued with itself about how I wanted this date to go. It would be great if this guy had potential. But it would als
o be great if he wore a toupee and picked his nose. Well, great for Gray, that is. I’d told Hunter that I’d be in a coral dress in case he couldn’t recognize me from my picture, though I hoped he could because I’d clicked on him so quickly, I couldn’t even remember what color hair he had.
Or as a person moved toward me with a wide smile, she?
I had to swallow my mouthful of tea quicker than I would’ve liked to, and it burned on the way down. Thankfully, the expression I made when a woman extended her hand to me and asked if I was Isla was probably masked by the face I made when I scorched the skin off my tonsils and throat.
After swallowing, I breathed deeply, preparing myself to speak to this person. Gray was going to have a field day with this, and I was happy I managed to catch myself before I shot him a glance, because I was sure I would’ve lost it. And I didn’t want to be rude to Hunter, who was still staring at me curiously, one hand on the chair as she waited for me to confirm that I was the person she’d agreed to meet with.
“Yes, you must be Hunter,” I said, offering my hand for her to have a seat.
“That’s me,” she said. She pointed to the counter. “Do you mind if I grab a drink first?”
I studied her, taking in her features and build before answering. “Not at all.”
She had dark hair—darker than I remembered it being in the picture now that I thought about it—and it was shaved closely on the sides with longer waves on top. Her high cheekbones and full lips were overshadowed by a broad forehead and thick eyebrows, which were hidden, at least somewhat, by black-rimmed glasses. Any hint of femininity had been disguised with more masculine features except for her smooth, honey-colored skin that was virtually flawless without a speck of facial hair. Any doubt that might have been hiding in the depths of my consciousness as to this person’s gender was quickly washed away.
It struck me as a bit odd that I found her attractive—in an objective sense, of course. The sexual attraction wasn’t there, which would only make my interaction with Hunter that much more interesting.
Misadventures with a Sexpert Page 8
