chapter 24
Decca
“I need to learn to deep throat. There must be tricks. Can you teach me?”
Bethany’s face blanched as she perched on the edge of her desk. Just when I didn’t think her face could get any paler, she looked as white as milk. “What makes you think I know how to do it?”
Across the room, the soft clicks of the keyboard stopped when George’s fingers paused over the keys of his laptop to raise an eyebrow at his wife.
“For one thing, George’s expression’s calling bullshit on you right now. For another,” I sighed and took a deep breath. “I know what you two are into, and I want it. Well, some of it. I need sex lessons.”
“You don’t need lessons, Dec.” Bethany said, easing slowly off the desk and hobbling to the door. “Sex is about communication.” She pushed it closed and hobbled back to me. Or maybe it was more of a glide. I just realized she wasn’t in heels. I didn’t know she owned flats, let alone knew how to walk in shoes without at least a four-inch heel.
“That’s the problem. We communicate about everything. Except that. We’ve been married for months and still nothing! Maybe if I prove to him I can handle what he wants, he won’t feel so guilty every time he looks at me. He looks at me like he trapped me into this marriage.”
I paced the floor, hugging my arms across my chest. “I thought we could start slow. Round the bases, so to speak. I just need to be able to handle his dark side. What if he really is a monster and decides to let loose? I need to be ready.”
This time, George and Bethany shared a look. He grumbled something under his breath about the casket room and left the office.
Bethany hobbled to the office loveseat.
“Are you limping? I know you and George are into some sadomasochistic shit, but I’d never seen you in this much pain.”
She batted my hand away. “Shut up and hand me those pills on my desk. I had to pick up a guy who died in a washing machine. Positional asphyxia. Some guys like to use them for autoerotic wanking, and they get a little overzealous. He isn’t my first. I threw my back out, lifting him. So, yeah, I guess I do have a sex injury. I just didn’t get to come.”
She reclined slowly against the loveseat. “I thought you shared a bed when Chris was over. That didn’t incite some kind of primal urge to repeat the cuddlefest?”
“He couldn’t get away from me fast enough the next day. He spent the next two days behind his closed office door.”
“Hmm.” Bethany’s eyes sparked with a thought. “I bet I know what he was doing behind that door. You should have opened it. Maybe he wanted you to join in.”
“His message was clear enough. Now, not only am I not fucking my husband, I’m barely speaking to him.”
She groaned as she moved.
I sat next to her to rub the base of her spine. Bethany let out a sigh of relief.
“Are you sure you’re alright to work?”
“I just have one appointment I need to stay for. George is handling the services today. Interns have got basement duty. But getting back to the important matters, you shouldn’t have to handle anything when it comes to sex. Not emotionally, anyway. If you’re not enthusiastic about a kind of play, or an act—“
“But that’s just it. I’m overly enthusiastic. I want to do this. I crave him. I’ve never felt so turned on by the idea of him unleashing, totally just losing all control. But every time we’ve started, I know it reminds him of his previous self, the self he hated.”
“You’re not going to help him overcome it by forcing an act he’s uncomfortable with.”
“You’re saying I need his enthusiastic consent. Even though I know he wants it.”
“Consent goes both ways. Especially with men operating under traumatic guilt.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
She nodded, giving me the space to elaborate.
“I thought…maybe since he was able to enjoy these things with other women, he didn’t think I’d be good enough.”
“More that you’re too good.”
“How can I prove that I’m not too good? That I can take a cock down my throat?”
“Uh, well, that… takes practice. There’s no magic button that bypasses your gag reflex. You just have to keep at it.”
“Cup his balls,” said a voice from the adjoining room. George came in carrying a stack of old brochures and tossed them in the recycle bin.
“Cup his balls and he won’t care how deep you can go.”
I swallowed down my shock as I looked at Bethany. Was I really getting dick sucking advice from cold, starchy George?
I felt almost privileged.
The way Bethany was looking at her husband with that dreamy, intense expression, she’d be cupping his balls as soon as her back was in working order. Or the muscle relaxer kicked in.
She turned back to me too quickly, hissing in pain. “You don’t have to do much, but women often forget they exist. I like to cradle them gently, teasing underneath while massaging lightly. Or not so lightly. He’ll tell you how hard you can go.”
“Okay. Should I be taking notes?”
“Honey, you’ll do fine as long as you act like you’re worshipping him.”
“Are you saying that’s an act?” George smirked.
“Never with you, Sir.”
I believed her. George didn’t look as satisfied.
The change of his expression was almost imperceptible—a tilt of the head, a narrowing of those cold, clear eyes, so opposite Gus’s, the slight upturn of his lips in one corner—in the space of two seconds, he’d gone from being a dignified but somewhat robotic man to this all-powerful dark lord, staring at my friend, meticulously calculating what he wanted to do to her. This must be the part of him only Bethany got to see. Thank the universe, because it was fucking scary.
Bethany’s cheeks grew red.
There was a feral gleam in George’s eyes.
There was something voyeuristic about watching them, but their nonverbal communication, honed to such a fine edge, gave me hope. I wanted that freedom and openness in my own relationship.
“Pull back his foreskin,” George told me, looking at Bethany as he said it. “Hold it tight. At the base. Don’t be afraid to cause a little pain. It won’t really hurt him.” His words were paced slowly, his voice smooth and in control.
“Oh my God,” I squeaked out under my breath. I was desperately trying to hold back my immature glee at hearing these words come out of this very serious man, so I could pay attention to his actual instructions.
Bethany’s pupils were dilating, and she swallowed heavily before her lips parted.
Holy shit, this was hot.I needed to get out of here and leave them to it. I needed to get out of here and get back to Gus.
Bethany took over. I couldn’t help but notice she was crossing her legs, squeezing her thighs together. “Practice taking it deep on something else. A toy, a banana, a toothbrush even works. Take it deeper and deeper. Resist the urge to pull out when it starts to stimulate your gag reflex. Once you learn how to control the spasms, you’ll be fine, and it’ll feel amazing for him.”
I stood up and recited my instructions back to them. “Practice. Cock ring the foreskin. Balls. Thank you. I’m gonna leave now before you start ripping each other’s clothes off. George, remember your wife is already in pain.”
“No need,” George smiled sadistically as he stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “I’ve got a family arriving any minute.” He left without another glance back to Bethany.
“Did I just witness—” I pointed to the empty desk.
“Him turning on the faucet and walking away from the bathtub. Yes, I’m convinced it’s his favorite form of erotic torture. He does that shit all the fucking time.” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “The man’s a sadist who didn’t have sex for ten years. He’s built up a frustration tolerance I cannot compete with.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “No wonder.”
“Yeah,” Bethany nodded before shaking her head with a sigh. She stood and turned to face me. “You can always say a prayer Gus’ll let you swallow his cock tonight. Say one for me too.”