Deep Inside (15 page)

She ran her right hand over her breasts and closed her eyes. Her left fingers found her pussy. As she made circular movements around it, she remembered how sultry the July night had been.

It was after ten
P.M.
and she was deliberately out alone in a rough neighborhood. She'd visited a bar, and sat there among dangerous and beefy, bare-chested men. She had worn a low-cut blue silk dress.

A number of the men had come on to her. She'd danced close and slow with several of them. Then she'd turned her attention to the hottest guy in the room.

He was tall, dressed in jeans, with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a leather vest over his taut and tattooed chest. He had a stubble that showed off his brutal cheekbones, his square jaw, and merciless eyes. He drank whiskey at the bar and watched her with a knowing gaze.

She walked over to where he was and sat down next to him. She let him buy her a drink. Soon they were talking and laughing. But when he put his arm on her thigh and leaned over to kiss her, she pushed him away.

She got up and left the bar alone, quickly walking down the deserted street to her car.

He'd stealthily crept up behind her. She didn't hear his steps, but she felt his rough hands circle her. She struggled and fought him off, but he was too strong.

“You were teasing me in there. What made you think you could do that?” he growled.

She saw a car approach them. He removed his arms in the glare of the headlights. But once the automobile passed, it was Rebecca who quickly grabbed
his
hand.

“We're going to walk into the alley over there,” she informed him.

Rebecca kept her eyes closed as she replayed the scene in her mind. Her left hand spread apart her pussy lips.

“What's up with you? You were refusing me inside,” he said.

“Shut up,” she insisted.

They stumbled along the dark street. As they walked, she drew his mouth to hers. Once they were in the brick alley, she pushed him against the wall and put her hand on his cock.

“Don't play around now unless you mean it, because I will take you hard,” he said.

“Oh, I want it,” she said.

She loved how big and hard his dick felt through his jeans. She ran her other hand down his muscular arms, pulling aside his leather vest. Underneath was a holster and a gun.

“I always carry it in this neighborhood. I have to,” he told her. “But I'll put it on the ground.”

“No,” she told him. “I want you to hold it while we fuck.”

“You sure?” he said.

She nodded. She spit on her fingers and stroked his dick. She saw the hand on his gun tighten. He let out a large “Oh yeah!” and nearly pulled the trigger.

“Christ, I'm going to kill us both,” he said. “Let me put it down.”

“Don't let go of that gun or I'll stop,” she told him.

She took his left hand and together they pulled up her dress and yanked down her panties.

“Impale me,” she commanded.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. As he fucked her against the wall, she stared at his large revolver. In the near distance she saw two men stride across the dimly lit opening of the alley. She loved it when they stopped and watched.

Rebecca replayed the scene in her mind. She put one hand on her ass the way he had, then circled her asshole with a finger. She slipped the finger inside, fucking her cunt with her other hand, as she remembered the rest of that night. The way she had stared right at the two voyeurs. The way she insisted that the man come in her ass. The way she took his cock in her mouth afterwards. The two men had started to run towards them, shouting that they wanted some of what she was giving.

But he'd shot the gun off, just missing them, with expert aim.

“Tell me what you do while I blow you,” she'd demanded.

“When I'm not fucking, I'm robbing people at gunpoint and sometimes killing them,” he'd said.

She came so hard remembering his white cum in her mouth and all over her blue silk dress. She almost fell against the hotel room mirror. She caught her breath and hurried to the bathroom to get ready for her book signing.

 

“Hi, I'm
Rebecca Stillman, author of
Please Yourself: How to Masturbate Better!
”

Rebecca held up the shiny red and silver book with her photo on the cover. “And now I've written a new book for all you busy gals! It's called
Please Yourself: How to Masturbate When You're on the Go!
”

Rebecca took the enormous applause as she stood behind the podium. She glanced from side to side at the packed audience in the auditorium. Several local reporters stood near the front, taking notes and snapping photos.

She scanned the audience to see if any of her family members were there. She couldn't spot any of them. Relieved, Rebecca gave them all a huge, professional smile.

“It's great to be back in my hometown!” she announced.

There was more clapping and lots of cheers. Rebecca took it graciously. She knew her Target jeans and casual long-sleeved T-shirt were a good choice for this audience, making her one of the gals. Somebody they could trust.

Rebecca glanced down at the notes she'd made for her speech.

“I know how uptight you Midwesterners can be about sex! For example, the reason we're here in this auditorium is because none of your big book chains would have me talking about sex in their stores. God forbid people should hear about S-E-X in the Midwest! But I'm here to tell you that masturbation is a perfectly healthy and natural thing to do.”

The audience immediately became silent. Rebecca wasn't surprised. She was ready for them. She leaned on the wooden podium and gazed right at her female audience.

“Oh, come on!” Rebecca laughed. “Don't tell me you don't masturbate! Somebody in this city is buying my books! And you're not here because you think I'm about to lecture on ornithology! Hey, I've seen the stats. I sell real well in my hometown. So let's not be coy.”

Two women stood up and raised their fists. Other women tittered. Rebecca saw the reporters taking notes. She wondered if this quote would make it into the local newspapers and scandalize her family. How great that would be!

“That's better,” Rebecca said approvingly. “But it's not good enough. I want some real honesty here! I'm going to ask a question and I want a truthful response. How many of you masturbate?”

A few hands shot up. There were giggles, and more hands were raised.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said. “I'm glad to hear my old hometown is alive and wet.”

Dozens of women now put up their hands.

Rebecca nodded at her audience. “And you know what? No matter how well we masturbate, we can always do it better! That's what my books are about.”

Rebecca paused, studied her notes, and took a sip of water. She lifted her head and smiled again at the audience.

“Like you, I'm always on the go. That's what inspired my newest book,” she said. “I barely have enough time to get my nails done, let alone masturbate! But I've learned how to please myself no matter how little time I have to do it in. And that's what my book will teach you. How to give yourself pleasure even on a tight schedule.

“Here's just one example from the book. When I travel, I always bring my little box. Now I know a lot of you probably worry about the security people at airports going through your luggage. And you're probably nervous about them finding your sex toys!”

The audience laughed. Rebecca waved one of her fingers at them. “You gotta get over that!” she said. “Let 'em search your box!”

The word
box
made the audience laugh harder.

“Not
that
box,” Rebecca said. “I'm talking about your sex toy case. Here's the one I use.”

She held up a shiny pink case.

“Yep,” she said. “This is my travel buddy! Isn't it the cutest, sweetest thing? It's not very big, which is perfect because I can fit my travel buddy right in my suitcase. Yet it's got enough room for everything I need for masturbation on the go! I can pack a dildo, two vibrators, even some scented candles. By the way, if you haven't visited my Web site recently, I've got a sale going on. It's a great time to stock up on all these luscious items!”

She put her box down and held up some photos.

“And I pack some hot pictures that I cut out from magazines and download off the Internet. It's a great way to tickle the imagination. I also put in a few porn DVDs.”

She could feel the unease in her audience.

“Yes, that's right. I
love
to look at porn! Got a problem with it? Do you think that women
don't
or
shouldn't
get off on visual stimulation the way that men do?”

Rebecca shook her head at them.

“C'mon, you can't kid a St. Louis girl. I know that beneath your conservative khakis and soccer mom haircuts, you're horny-as-hell sex goddesses who either love porn or just haven't seen the right kind yet!”

The women roared and applauded.

Rebecca paused, thinking about how different the Midwest was from the two coasts. When she was in New York or L.A., her audience was rowdier and much more aggressive. They openly talked about their love of porn and their adventurous sexual practices. But tonight she would have to take it slower.

“So now that we've admitted that we like to look, I'll give you a little advice about where to find what you want to see. If you like the idea of orgies—guys fucking women, or two guys with a woman, or two women getting it on with no guys around—then go to the heterosexual male porn sites. But if you're looking for nothing but hot male flesh, don't waste your time searching in the straight world. You aren't going to find buff-looking guys there! Head to gay porn.”

Rebecca took a sip of water and waited for her audience to settle down. They were giggling and fidgeting like school girls.

“I keep all of these things in my pink pleasure chest so that no matter where I am, or how busy my schedule is, I always have visual and electronic aids for getting my pleasure juices flowing. That's just one of the many tips I have for you in this book.”

Rebecca picked up the copy of
Please Yourself: How to Masturbate When You're on the Go!
and waved it at the audience.

“And why is masturbation so important?” she asked.

“Because if you don't please yourself, no one else will!” the audience shouted.

“You know my mantra! That's just great!” Rebecca triumphantly beamed. “I'm now going to answer any questions you have.”

She put the book down, unhooked the microphone, and walked in front of the podium.

Among the many raised hands, Rebecca saw one belonging to a woman who was about forty-five. She could have been sexy if she weren't wearing the boxy khakis and starched white shirt that seems to be the required uniform of Midwestern mommies. And the haircut! It was a shapeless, respectable bob.

“Yes?” Rebecca asked, pointing at her.

“I don't really have a question,” the woman said. “I just want to say how much your books have meant to me,” she added in a whisper.

“Can you talk a little louder?” Rebecca encouraged.

“Oh, I don't know if I can say it in front of all these,” the woman whimpered.

“Don't feel shy,” Rebecca said. “Just think of the rest of us as your fellow masturbators!”

The audience roared and clapped.

The woman stammered, almost collapsing into her seat, then gushed, “Okay then! Here it goes! Ever since I started to read your books, I've been doing it to myself every night!”

The audience whooped. The woman wiggled her hips.

“I like to stick a couple of fingers up my twat, I like to pinch my nipples while I make love to my clit,” she continued. “And, oh yeah, what I really like is to suck my finger and reach around and fuck my own ass—”

“Whew, girlfriend!” Rebecca interrupted. It was never good to let an audience member take the spotlight away. “Thank you for sharing. That's beautiful!” Rebecca walked over to the other side of the stage. “Are there any other comments or questions?”

A number of hands shot up, but before Rebecca could pick one, a tiny, gray-haired woman stood up in the back of the auditorium.

“I just want to ask how you live with yourself!” she shouted.

Rebecca shuddered. And before answering, she did the breathing exercises that Andrew had given her. She slowly and imperceptibly stilled her anxious pulse.

She took a deep breath, then answered, “Hi, Mom.”

The audience collectively gasped and swiveled around in their seats.

“I won't call you my daughter,” Rebecca's mother said. Her face was beet-red with anger. “Because I can't forgive you for what you've done. Only God can do that. And you're going to have to repent if you want to get into heaven.”

Rebecca was prepared for the tears that might come. She did more of the breathing exercises Andrew had given her. Good. She wasn't crying. And she was prepared with what she needed to say.

“I thank my mother for being here tonight. This is a very important moment for me. Because if you've read my books you know about my own fundamentalist upbringing. It was rough. And I could see that my parents' religion wasn't helping them.

“Dad had his demons. Drink, anger…And Mom, well—you can see for yourself what my mother was like. But, Mom, I just want you to know that I love you. Even if you're misguided and think that God doesn't want us to make ourselves happy here on earth. But I'm not waiting for the afterlife to be happy. You see, Mom, every time I masturbate, I
am
in heaven!”

“You are going to hell!” her mother said, without a trace of warmth. She turned to the audience. “And all of you will go to hell, too, if you buy her books!”