25. 'Take your underwear off'

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Nata

With his glare firmly on me, Phillip takes out the cuff links, tugs off his shirt as he backs away from me and opens the door to what I correctly assumed was the bedroom. His shirt joins his belt and my clothes somewhere on the floor. The bedroom we enter is larger than mine and has a view I lack on my lower floor. But my eyes focus on a different view, one of Phillip on the bed. I'm stuck in my spot in the doorway, watching him take off his pants, leaving him in nothing but navy boxer-briefs.

The tightness in my chest mixes with the heat that is traveling across my ribs and below my belly button. Goosebumps cover me head-to-toe while my face is hot and my insides are liquid. I'm a lava cake. Even though my experience over the last ten years was limited to Samson's body, I've seen enough naked men on screens to know what an aroused man looks like, and if I had any doubts Phillip won't be able to perform his side of the deal, I don't have those anymore.

He presses his palms into the edge of the bed and his biceps flex. On purpose or not, they make my already parched by alcohol mouth even drier. Phillip's gaze slides across my body and reflects the light of the sun from the window. "Ready?"

My heart nosedives into my stomach, but I nod. I want this. Phillip keeps watching me like he wants this too. A whisper from my brain suggests I'm in danger, but I know I'm in control. If I say stop, he'll stop. I don't want us to stop, though. Whatever happens is better than nothing happening.

I walk to his side of the bed and stand as close to his knees as I can without touching him. For all my talk about doing the deed, I don't have the slightest idea of how to start the series of actions that will get me to the finishing line. My fingers don't feel like my own. The hot lava in my stomach burns with the need I have no business feeling. I lift my hand and lower it, uncertain and entirely too hesitant.

"What would you like me to do?" His voice is low and sends chills across my neck as his breath lands there. The chills are not the freezing kind. Phillip's almost pained expression heats my skin. The goosebumps from earlier disappear. I'm officially on fire, and it's consuming the oxygen in my lungs. We don't need a fireplace or jackets to raise our temperatures.

What would I do if this were Samson? I never felt this level of fear and excitement around Samson. Our sex life was good. Frequent enough to make me happy yet not interfere with my school or work obligations and resulting in orgasms for both of us. With Samson intimacy was measured, controllable, easy, and made me feel exactly how I wanted: comfortable and sated. With Samson I've never felt like I'll both explode and fall through the ground if he touches me. Phillip's breath quickens against my neck, as he clutches the bedspread. The control I'm after titters.

Would the lava in me cool or burn hotter at Phillip's touch? Only one way to find out. I take his hand and place it on the lace of my underwear. The hypocrisy of me saying this is a biological and business transaction yet buying a new set of lingerie for the occasion is not lost on me. But I wanted to make sure he would want me. That he'll find me appealing enough for biology to take its course.

I glance at the tip of his penis peeking from the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Mission accomplished. I bite my lip and stay still.

His fingers hook on both sides of my panties and lower them. My turn to take a heavy breath. I look at the air vent on top of the wall behind him, because I don't want to see on his face what he thinks of my body. His opinion or reaction don't matter as long as he can stay hard and come. That's what I need.

"Next?"

Why is he making me be in charge? I dig my nails into the palm of my hand.

"Now you," I say to the wall.

"Me what?"

"Take your underwear off."

He stands, and the distance between us goes to inches. "You want to do it for me?" He catches my wrist and settles my fingers on the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"No." I jerk away from the danger zone. The flames of desire burn me from the inside. I try to stifle the blaze by breathing deeply and ignoring the urge to touch my skin his to skin. "You do it."

"You'll have to touch me eventually, you know." The sarcasm in his voice increases my determination to do as little touching as possible for the end result to still take place.

I glue my arms and hands to my sides. "I know."

He tugs his underwear down, and I want to peek and see what I have to work with but I also don't. What does it matter? As long as he fits, there's nothing else I care about. I drill holes with my stare in the wall below the air vent.

"So you're not going to look at me either?" Phillip sounds like I'm hurting him. "If you still love him so much, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Maybe I'm not helping you. Maybe I'm the bad guy in this situation."

I flinch. His words stir the doubts I've been stewing in today. We should've had this conversation before, not when I'm only wearing my bra, and he's buck naked.

"You are helping me." I step aside, away from the pull of his body, and walk to the head of the bed with the artfully staged pillows. I pull the cover from under them and expose the white sheet beneath. Less thinking and more doing. Samson won't make me fail at this. He's damaged enough of my life. I will not let his ghost prevent me from getting pregnant.

"Get on the bed." I point to the spot I just uncovered.

Phillip sits on the edge and scoots up until I hear a thump as his back hits the headboard.

With as little looking as possible to accomplish my actions, I push his legs together and climb over them, so that my butt sits on his thighs. The skin on my legs glues to his. I'm thirsty, but gooey liquid gathers at the apex of my thighs. I squeeze my lower stomach as if I can retrieve the evidence of my lust for him, so he doesn't get any ideas. I'm good at controlling my life and my body but today I'm failing. I need to cool down. Remember what's at stake. My eyes are studying the pillow, the texture of the wallpaper, the round bronze nail heads in the headboard, the smooth white span of the ceiling. My pulse, erratic and deafening, vibrates my temples.

"Just look at me," he whispers.

I lower my gaze to his.

"Lower."

His neck seems thinner and more vulnerable this close.

"Lower."

I've seen his naked chest before. The light smattering of freckles. The fair skin. The tapering torso.

"Lower."

The happy trail gets interrupted by his hand as he moves it up and down his ... The word penis doesn't seem appropriate anymore. I swallow.

"You've had sex before, right?" His voice holds a hefty dose of concern.

I flick my gaze to his. My cheeks can't get any hotter. "Yes."

"Some people save themselves for marriage. I don't want to take you virginity without knowing that's what's going on here."

The spidery feeling in my chest grows. "Sounds like you've done it before."

"Yes."

"And you wouldn't do it if I were a virgin?"

"I would do what you want me to do. This is your body. You're an adult. I'll respect your wishes."

"Good to know. But you don't have to worry." A corner of my mouth hooks up. "I've done this before. I've been doing it pretty much weekly for the last ten years. I know how this works."

I ignore the palpitations beneath my breast bone, place my palm over his knuckles, and follow his rhythm, matching the speed he was stroking himself with.

"Ten years?" Philip's voice hitches when I move his hand aside and take over the motion. "... only? You didn't start until twenty-five?"

I squeeze a little harder and keep moving my fist up and down. "Are we having this conversation now? Do you need the date I lost my virginity or a bloody sheet from that day?" Color paints his chest pink. "Or a calendar with every intercourse I've had since?" I shift and get more comfortable on his thighs. "I know how sex works. I wouldn't forget it that quickly."

Phillips chest rises and falls faster. "Was Samson the only person you ever slept with?"

His question cools my desire better than my staring at the ceiling did. I look away from his prying eyes. "Do we need to have a sex questionnaire added to our contract?"

His fingers graze my chin and return my eyes to his. "You didn't answer. Was he your only boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend? No. Sex partner? Yes." I narrow my eyes continuing with the motion of my hand and reveling at the flush on his cheeks. I'm doing this to him. I cock an eyebrow at him. "What does it matter? I know what I'm doing. I drove one car for ten years. You drove several. We are both experienced drivers." The heat and firmness of him under my fingers triggers my body in all the right ways. I shift and set my drenched lips on top of one of his thighs. "You don't need to doubt my 'driving expertise'."

Phillip's hands fly to my waist and skim the curve of my hip, kneed my butt, massage the inside of my legs, and pull me closer to where my fist keeps pumping.

"I'm not hesitant because of your driving expertise," he says, his voice raspy. "If I use your analogy, I started driving cars over twenty years ago, but I haven't stepped foot into one I...a while."

I huff. "Is it fair to call a month while?"

"Maybe it's been a month for you." His fingers slip inside my folds. "It's been a year for me."

Something pounds beneath my ribcage at his words or at the steady progress his fingers are making to my core.

"And although I'm sure I haven't forgotten how it works," he continues. "I don't think I'll last long enough for you to get anything out of this." His fingers find the spot I crave for him to rub. My body pushes into his thumb. Phillip sits up, and the energy that runs through me when he touches my clit is so powerful, I want to grind against him. I want to find his lips with mine. He inserts a finger into my messy middle. "Let me maybe get you off first."

I clench around him, and I like it. Control leaves my grasp. My body takes over. I close my eyes and let myself feel all the feels. A moan slips past my teeth.

"You're so wet." His lips are against my ear. His teeth close around my earlobe.

What is it about him that makes me want to forget the deal, grip his chin, and—

I still. What am I doing? I'm not supposed to enjoy this. This unregulated lust never leads to anything good. I've seen what abandon does to people.  I don't want the long-term hurt that comes from momentary pleasure. I've promised myself to be smarter than my parents.   I learn from the mistakes of others.

Phillip presses his nose into my temple. "Are you ready for another fin—"

"No!" I don't let him finish his sentence, because I don't need that image stuck in my head. I let go of him and scoot back, away from his heat, his electricity, his fingers. "No, we're not fuck buddies. This is not for pleasure. This is a medical transaction. We've agreed."

"That's not what you sounded like a moment ago." His tone is heady and hoarse.

"That's what I sound like now." I place my hand on my blazing cheeks. "You need to stop touching me like that," I almost shriek. "Can you cool this down?"

"I've never heard anyone ask me that."

"I'm glad I'm your first in something."

Phillip props himself on his elbows. "You're not having sex with me anymore?"

"I am." I scamper to my knees. "But just the necessary part. In and out."

"Might need multiple ins and outs."

"You know what I mean." I set my face into a professional mask. "Be efficient."

"Efficient?"

"Yes. If you come in three seconds, that's perfect."

"Not three seconds, I'm not fifteen."

I shake my head. "Whatever number of seconds—"

A slow smile stretches across his face. I want to wipe it off. He must know he's affecting me more than I want him to. He locates my waist and moves me back onto his lap. "Minutes. It's minutes. At least double digits."

I watch him wearily. "Minutes, okay."

I look down. I shouldn't have. Touching him was one thing. Seeing him fully naked splayed in front of me is harder to resist. I repress the desire that climbs up my spine. Not today.

"In and out." I just need to do it. Do it now. I take him in my hand again and stand up on my knees, hovering over him. "All I need is your sperm."

"That means I'll have to come. That's guaranteed pleasure. For me. Only fair if get you—"

"No need. I absolve you of that responsibility." I move my knees up his body and center myself to ensure a perfect entry point. "I have a vibrator that'll do a much better job, anyway."

Phillip's hands make their way to my butt. "You can't really compare the vibrator to the real thing."

"Oh, I've compared." My voice is filthier than I should be. "The vibrator wins every time." I lower myself onto him. As I slide over him, my breath falters. My internal walls envelop him. "We do this." I rise and lower again. "And if you feel really guilty." The lava in my gut grows hotter with our every move. I rise and lower myself a little further this time. "You can get me a new vibrator." I lower all the way. I don't lose control this time. I remain firmly in the driver's seat. "I've been eyeing the suction one for a while. That'll deliver all the pleasure I need."

"Nata." Phillip's fingers grab my butt cheeks and pull me up, then slam me down. I match his force. I focus on the mechanical rise and fall of my body. The rhythm we set uses my well-trained leg and core muscles. I set my hand on his shoulder and keep us moving and moving and moving. I don't let up until he shudders underneath me as I feel him pulsing inside.

My breath is ragged. My forehead is damp with perspiration. I no longer feel like a failure.

Round one is over, and I'm not afraid of round two. I rise off him and exit the bedroom. I know the danger he poses now. I tug my pants and my shirt on, grab my bag, my shoes and unlock the handle as I continue buttoning up. Next time I'll be smarter. Cooler. I won't let him underneath my skin. The door slams behind me.

I jog barefoot along the hallway. My heartbeats travel from my head to my core to my chest. I won't make the mistake of letting him touch me. I finish buttoning my shirt and slide into my pumps. My brain will remain in charge next time. The elevator doors open and a group of laughing women exits, chatting about where to go for dinner. I push past them, punch the button for the floor Kate and I are on and punch the close-the-door button. Lots of experiments fail because the scientists lose control of their environment. I won't slip up again.

5.5.23

Author's Note

Thoughts?

Feelings?

Was this what you expected?

I'm dying to hear it all.

Love,

GR


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