Ecstasy
Page 7

 Bella Andre

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His palms got slick and sweaty on the handset of his cordless phone as he waited for her response.
Clearly trying to put him at ease, she said, “I know exactly what you mean, Charlie. And by the way, I’ve been thinking we should probably be upfront about things.”
“What things?” Charlie asked, so suddenly nervous his heart was going clackity-click and he could swear he heard a heavy metal soundtrack in his head.
“I want you to know that you don’t need to worry about the vocabulary you use when we’re talking about work. I know you’re a complete gentleman and that everything we do during our lessons is purely professional.” She cleared her throat and then added, “Even if we do happen to deal with things like dildos and kinky sex in our books.”
Charlie forced a chuckle, but inwardly he felt like the world’s biggest scum. Sure, his intentions were honorable. He was going to teach Candace how to write great erotica. But he couldn’t deny the fact that in the privacy of his imagination he had already devised twenty different ways he wanted to make Candace scream with pleasure.
But no matter how strongly he felt about her, he had decided to put the lid on his desire until their mentoring sessions were through—jumping her bones during their lessons would be a complete betrayal of her trust. He only hoped it didn’t kill him in the meantime.
“Good,” he’d said. “I’m glad we are being completely upfront about everything right from the start. I knew you were the right person to work with.”
“Frankly, I was afraid that Sheba Queen of the Sluts wouldn’t have left you in one piece by the time she was done with you. I had no choice but to save you by offering up myself.”
Charlie let himself savor the vision of Candace tied and bound to an altar, naked and gleaming, in sacrifice for him, before he said, “I appreciate that. More than you know.”
“So, what’s on the agenda?” she asked him, and just like that his entire body broke out in a sweat as he unfolded the piece of paper he’d written their lesson plan on.
Trying to keep his voice light, he said, “I’ve broken our mentoring sessions into five different lessons. Lesson one will be how to set a romantic scene.”
“That sounds great. I love the way you paint pictures with words in your books.”
“Thanks,” he’d said, and then swallowed loudly as he prepared to continue spelling out his list of lessons. Lesson one was the easy one, and he knew things were only going to get harder from here. Especially if the rock-hard bulge in his pants was any indication.
“Let’s see, for lesson two I thought we’d work on varying positions.” He had to pause, clear his throat. “I mean, we’ll take a look at...uh, you know study the different ways that...”
Suddenly he couldn’t think of any way to rephrase the sentence that wouldn’t sound like he planned on screwing her brains out the minute she walked through his door.
Thankfully, she reminded him in a gentle voice, “Charlie, you’ve got to stop worrying about offending me.”
“Okay,” he said, but his trepidation must have been clear in his voice, because she said, “Say f**k ten times to me.”
“Huh?”
“Just say it,” she demanded.
“Fuck, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k.”
“Good. Now say, ‘I want to lick your juicy pu**y.’”
Charlie choked on an intake of breath, but he did as she asked. He repeated, “I want to lick your juicy pu**y.” Even as he imagined how amazing she would taste, he braced himself for her disgust, expecting her to say, “You’re scum and I never want to talk to you again.”
“Feel better now?”
He took a moment to gauge his feelings and realized, much to his surprise, that his palms were dry again and his heart rate had returned to near-normal. Candace, in her sly way, had forced him over the hump of his anxieties. Yet again, he was impressed by what a clever little piece of work this delectable woman was.
“Thanks for that.” He was glad to laugh. “You definitely have a knack for dialogue. And now that I’ve decided to stop being such an idiot, here are the rest of my lesson plans.” He spoke quickly and didn’t pause between lessons. “Lesson three – using toys. Lesson four – the joy of sex in exciting locations. Lesson five – how to use role playing to really up the ante.”
He knew if he gave himself even a second to think about her reaction he’d start to make an even bigger ass of himself than he already had, so he barreled ahead. “So, how about we start next Saturday at my house on Lombard? Noon?”
“Great,” she’d said and hung up as soon as he gave her his address.
Now here he was, on the big day, with noon quickly approaching. Through great force of will, Charlie stopped banging his head on the door, stopped torturing himself with thoughts of what a dweeb Candace must think he was, picked up the box of rose petals and walked into his guest bedroom to finish preparing the classroom.
Charlie had decided the best way to teach Candace how to set a romantic scene was to show her one in real life. He knew, however, that using his master bedroom for any of these lessons was a very bad idea. As it was, in the past seven days he had beaten off to the picture of her he had in his head so many times while lying in his bed and while showering, as soon as he walked into his master bedroom it was practically a reflex for him to reach for his c**k and start pumping it in his hand.
Standing in the doorway of his large guest room, he surveyed the space with a critical eye. He had draped the four-poster queen-sized bed with Indian silk. In his writer’s mind, he could see two lovers deep within their own world, sheathed in the exotic fabric.
He had covered the mattress in red plush velvet, and underneath the luxurious cover, he had put red satin sheets. To top it off, a dozen pillows fought for space near the head of the bed.
Charlie had never been particularly interested in interior design—although he felt that he had done a nice job with making his house a comfortable and cozy reflection of himself—but as he went from store to store in Union Square, as he ran his fingers lightly over the fabrics, he realized that he was, in fact, greatly enjoying himself.
His enjoyment, he thought ruefully, may have sprung from his intense desire to see Candace wrapped in the silks, velvets, and satins he purchased.
Or, more to the point, his even more intense desire to unwrap her.