Authors: Lacey Alexander
And if all this wasn’t dire enough, she had no idea what to get him for Christmas.
Almost every other person on her shopping list was finished, but not Simon. And he was easy to shop for—he loved nice clothes, had flexible taste in music and enjoyed popular fiction. But this year, with all the stress and strife between them, she wanted to give him something special, different, unique. She wanted to find a gift that truly reflected the measure of her love for him—since she couldn’t seem to show him in the normal way.
Oh God
,
I
’
m losing him
.
I
’
m really going to lose him
.
Because I have sexual hang
-
ups and
can
’
t get past them
.
She let out a big whoosh of breath and realized she’d stopped walking to lean against a glass wall that fronted one of the stores. The deep realization that she was going to lose the man she was in love with had struck hard and made her feel as weak…as a kitten.
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Just then, she felt a soft touch on her arm and glanced up.
“Dawn?” Before her stood an old friend from college who looked just as gorgeous as Emily remembered. Auburn hair still fell long and flowing over her shoulders, and a fitted top and jeans showed she still possessed a killer shape. Midnight-blue eyeliner made her green eyes look large and smoky. Dawn had always been very different from her—a wild child who, even back then, could have filled a book with her sexual exploits—but they’d been in the same dorm through all four years at the University of Cincinnati and had always gotten along well.
“Emily? I thought that was you. Are you okay?”
Caught off guard by the meeting, Emily straightened, tried to take control of herself. “Yeah—yes. I’m fine.”
Dawn didn’t appear convinced. “You looked like you might faint or something.
Maybe it’s too crowded for you in here.”
Emily just nodded. “Could be.” But then she sighed.
And Dawn’s eyes narrowed. She’d always been especially perceptive. “Something else is wrong. What is it? Maybe I can help.”
Emily gave her head a quick shake. She hadn’t seen Dawn in years, and though they’d once been fairly good friends, she couldn’t just spout out the trouble with her love life.
Except…the stress must have been worse than she even realized, because she heard herself doing it anyway. “I’m afraid my boyfriend is going to leave me.”
Dawn’s feminine hands closed on her upper arms. “Oh,
honey
,” she said, her voice filled with compassion.
Emily rolled her eyes. “My God, I can’t believe I just told you that. I haven’t even said ‘How are you?’ yet.”
But Dawn simply laughed, her heart-shaped lips widening into a smile. “Don’t worry about it. And I’m fine—better than you are, apparently.” She shifted from one 25
Lacey Alexander
platform heel to the other. “Listen, why don’t we get out of here. Go to my place. I’d love to catch up. And you can tell me all about this guy of yours and what the problem is—and who knows, maybe talking about it will do some good.”
* * * * *
Dawn lived in the trendy neighborhood of Mt. Adams, in a condo atop a three-story building that overlooked the city through a wall of windows. The place was decorated in lavish fabrics and jewel tones, a purple velvet chaise draped with a red chenille throw serving as one of the most outstanding pieces of furniture in the large living room. Dark wood trim and a fireplace added to the warm feel of the space, in which the only holiday decoration was a small, unobtrusive tree in one corner done in matching jewel tone ornaments. Emily couldn’t help thinking it would be a great room to have sex with Simon in.
Which confused her, all things considered. Then again, she figured the thought blended with her usual state of sexual turmoil.
Over hot chocolate laced with brandy to warm them up after coming in from the cold, Emily found herself telling Dawn about Simon, and about her problems in bed.
She didn’t know why she found Dawn so easy to talk to, but her old friend had always had a way of gently coaxing honesty from her. Of course, maybe the brandy helped, too. Either way, she heard herself telling Dawn things that, for some reason, she hadn’t quite been able to tell Simon.
“It’s like…my body is just teeming with all this desire, but my brain tries to turn it off—and usually succeeds.”
Dawn leaned forward on the leather sofa they shared to touch Emily’s knee. “Is it
fear
you feel when he urges you to try new things? Or some kind of
shame
?”
Emily swallowed, thinking it over—wanting desperately to figure it out, finally.
Something about Dawn’s soothing voice, the comfort of her touch, the cozy setting—
plus the brandy’s ability to relax her—made her feel close, so very close, to finally 26
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digging beneath the surface of her troubles and really reaching an answer. “Fear of the unknown is definitely a part of it. And yet, another, wilder part of me that I can’t quite reach really
wants
to try these things, really wants to learn.”
Dawn flashed a sympathetic expression. “So you’ve
really
never given a guy a blowjob? Or had sex in any position besides missionary?”
Emily didn’t feel embarrassed by Dawn’s surprise over the secrets she’d already shared—just sad. “No, never. I really
want
to—just thinking about it excites me inside.
But when I try to actually do it, I just freeze up. I guess…I guess maybe it
is
some kind of shame—although I never thought of it like that before. It just feels…wrong somehow.
Not inside my heart, but in my head.”
Dawn lowered her chin and widened her eyes, looking inquisitive. “Just how strict
were
your parents, honey?”
Emily bit her lip, remembering. She didn’t particularly like thinking about it. “They were
very
strict when it came to boys. I couldn’t date until I was seventeen, and even then, they filled me with terror about letting a guy touch me at all, or kiss me. I remember being a nervous wreck. Even before that, though, if we were watching TV
and anything at all sexual came on, my mother changed the channel. We just never talked about sex in our house, unless I was being warned not to do it. Even the
topic
embarrassed me at the time because it seemed so taboo.”
“And you were an only child, right?”
Emily nodded. “So I didn’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. Girlfriends, sure, but no one really understood why the very idea of sex freaked me out so much, because they didn’t see what it was like to live with my mom and dad.”
“Was it…a religious thing for them?”
“Not really. We went to church, but…well, I think maybe my mom was sexually abused when she was younger. She’s never said so—but once my aunt told me I had no idea what my mother had been through and that I just had to be patient about not being allowed to date. Since we didn’t talk openly about anything like that, I never asked her.
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But whatever the reason, she and my dad both definitely wanted to shield me from anything sexual.”
Next to her, Dawn swallowed a sip of her hot chocolate and sighed. “This is making more sense to me now. Some people who are abused handle it well and raise their kids in a sexually healthy way. But some don’t.”
Emily widened her eyes. Dawn sounded so…knowledgeable. “And you know this how?”
Dawn smiled. “I should have told you this already, but I didn’t want to intimidate you. We kind of moved right past the normal chitchat today, so it didn’t come up, but…I’m a sex therapist, Emily.”
Emily held in her gasp. Although maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised, given Dawn’s affinity for sex when they were younger. “Wow. What does a sex therapist do, exactly?”
“What you would expect, mostly. I counsel couples and individuals who are having sexual problems. We try to get to the root of the problem and then see if we can find solutions or at least ways to improve the situation.” Then a coy smile formed on her pretty face. “And since I’m getting a little drunk on the brandy here, and since we’re old friends, I’ll tell you that I have, on occasion, served as a sexual surrogate, too.”
Emily blinked, but tried not to look too shocked. “Meaning you…”
“Have sex with someone who needs the kind of help that only direct, personal instruction can provide.”
“With men,” Emily said, to clarify, although she had no idea why.
Dawn quirked a sexy grin in her direction. “Women, too, sometimes.”
“Oh.” Her voice fluttered.
Dawn touched her knee again. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t suggesting I’d do that with
you
.” She spoke slower then. “Although I would. If you wanted me to.”
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Emily immediately shook her head and looked down, suddenly unable to make eye contact. “Oh, no. I would never, could never…” Her heart beat too fast.
Facing her on the sofa, Dawn lifted Emily’s chin with her fingertips and looked deep into her eyes. “Listen to me. This is lesson number one. You have to quit being embarrassed about sex. You have to maintain eye contact. It’s
just
sex. Just how people show their affection for one another. It’s both natural and normal.”
Emily swallowed, intensely aware of Dawn’s soft touch beneath her chin, and worked to keep looking into her shadowy green eyes. After a few seconds, it got easier.
“See?” Dawn’s voice remained
so
soothing. “It’s not so hard to look at me, is it? It’s not so hard to talk about.”
Emily let out a trembling breath. She wished she hadn’t just gotten so nervous—she
hated
that feeling. She reminded herself that this was just Dawn, her old friend.
Of course, now she knew Dawn had sex with women. But even so, she was still Dawn, and Emily was comfortable with her. “No. You’re right.”
Dawn smiled. “Good. Now take another drink. Let it relax you.”
Emily complied, and the brandy warmed her chest as she emptied her mug.
“And now, keep looking at me, Em, and tell me you want to talk about sex.”
“I want to talk about sex.” Okay. That was easy.
“Tell me you want to learn how to please your man.”
Easy again, because it was so true. “I want to learn how to please my man.”
“Tell me you want to be totally at ease with him.”
“I want to be totally at ease with him.” She was getting good at this, maintaining eye contact,
feeling
the words as she said them.
“When he touches you,” Dawn said, clearly intending Emily to keep repeating.
“When he touches me.”
“When he fucks you.”
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Emily drew in her breath, shut her eyes. Then opened them. “Words like that…I can’t seem to say.”
Dawn’s mouth made a straight line across her face, but she didn’t look surprised.
Maybe she’d encountered this before. “They’re only words, Emily. Sounds. Letters put together.”
“They’re…dirty to me.”
“Dirty can be a very good thing.”
Emily understood that on some level, understood in those brief moments when she let herself feel naughty that she also felt…alive, free, wild, wonderful, in a way she never had before. “Maybe so, but…”
“Say
fuck
for me.”
When Emily didn’t do it, Dawn persisted. “Say it. Just say it. It’s only a word. It can’t hurt you.”
Emily swallowed nervously. “Fuck,” she whispered.
“Was there anything horrible about that?”
She sighed. “No. No, not really.”
“No, of course not.” Her friend spoke gently. “But there
can
be something very good about it. Simon will love it when you ask him to fuck you, I promise. Words can excite and please a man
so
much. They show him you want the same things he does, with the same force, the same deep need. Now, say it again. But in a sentence. Say
fuck
me
.”
Emily drew in her breath. “Fuck me.”
She was looking right at Dawn as she spoke, brutally aware that it sounded as if she were making the demand to her friend. But Dawn only smiled. “Very good. Now,
fuck
me
,
Simon
.”
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Emily’s chest burned with trepidation and a strange heat. Her throat felt heavy, thick. She said the words slowly, her voice low, and felt them in her soul. “Fuck me, Simon.”
Dawn nodded, and Emily’s chest tightened. “Mmm, yes. That’s nice,” Dawn said.
Oh God, was she crazy or did her friend actually appear kind of aroused? Emily’s heart beat harder and her breasts tingled.
But then, thankfully, Dawn’s intense gaze dropped to the empty mug Emily still held. “More?”
More brandy? Probably a good idea. “Yes. Thanks.” Or at least she
thought
it was.
As Dawn moved to the open kitchen flanking the living room, an area filled with equally warm colors of dark yellow-gold and burgundy, she said, “I want you to practice after we’ve parted. Practice saying
fuck
. Practice saying
pussy
. Practice saying
cock
.”
“I’ve been practicing
that
one a little already,” she admitted.
At least in my head
.
Dawn giggled throatily. “Good.” She went about heating the hot chocolate in the microwave, then adding quick splashes of brandy into the two steaming mugs. “Work on them in sentences, too. Become comfortable with them. Being comfortable with words gives you power, control.”
She returned to the leather sofa, passing Emily’s mug. Emily blew on the chocolate as the ceramic warmed her palms, and she told herself she could do this—she could learn to talk dirty for Simon.
She looked up, surprised to see Dawn lower her cup to a coaster, then promptly disappeared through a nearby doorway. “Be back in just a minute,” she said over her shoulder. “Get ready for lesson two.”
“Which is?” Emily called.
“Touching.”
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