She fumbled for the vibrator, slipped it onto her finger, and plunged it into the water.
She managed to turn it on just as the man giving the massage gently removed his subject’s towel. His hands skated up over the curve of her ass. As Cami’s legs fell open, the hot water made her arousal feel more potent, and when she touched the vibe to her clit she had to bite down to keep from moaning. It was so easy to imagine herself in that position, on a table in a dimly lit room like this one, with Des’s hands working oil into her skin. It was easy to believe that he would nudge her thighs apart, drag his thumbs up the insides of them, and gently pull her lips open. He’d roll the sensitive flesh between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, picking up the dampness that had leaked from inside her.
Suddenly, all she wanted in the whole world was a finger inside her.
Her other hand joined the first below the water and she nudged her middle finger at her opening. She pushed inside herself. The sweet friction sent a shock of pleasure through her.
On her phone, the man had rolled the woman over and pushed her legs apart to make room for his shoulders. He buried his face between her legs, hungry growls escaping his throat as he lapped at her. The woman’s breathing was loud and heavy, hitching whenever his nose nudged her clit. For the first time in her life, Cami watched porn with curiosity and interest.
Her jaw clenched tightly with anticipation as she mentally urged the man to pull back, to pull his cock out and rub the head of it against the spit-slick hole on camera. She worked her finger into her own as she rubbed the vibrator over her clit in fervent little circles that caused the water to splash the side of the tub in turn. The man finally pulled back to shove his pants down over his hips, and his erection bounced free of the waistband. He tookit in hand and pressed the tip against her opening, his left palm splayed wide over his partner’s abdomen.
He plunged in, and the woman cried out. Cami moaned deep and low. She could feel her orgasm just there—so close—just on the other side of some invisible wall, and the more she strained toward it, the higher the stupid wall seemed to grow. Her hips lifted up off the bottom of the tub and she tried to get her finger farther inside her, as though to chase the orgasm into herself, but the vibrator on her clit started to feel rough and unpleasant, too much sensation on an over-sensitive spot. It started to hurt.
All at once, she ripped her arms up out of the water, pulled the stupid vibrator off her finger and threw it at the bathroom mirror. It bounced off with a thunk and clattered ineffectually to the floor. “Useless piece of crap!” she yelled at it, but her voice broke on the last word, and she realized tears were coursing down her cheeks.
With a shaky breath, she swiped the porn off her phone and then dropped it onto the floor. She sank as far down into the tub as she could get while still breathing, letting her tears trickle into the bath water.
She was done. She just had to stop trying. She was never going to come, not even with advice from the world’s hottest sex toy salesman. What a disaster.Shewas a disaster.
Maybe she should see a doctor.
No. What a stupid, selfish reason to take up a doctor’s time, not to mention how embarrassing it would be for her. And it would be a completely ridiculous reason to waste a paycheck, especially when the doctor would no doubt tell her “try harder, you’ll get there,” or even worse—”women don’t really need to orgasm, anyway.”
Useless, all of it.
She should thank Des for trying regardless. Close, but no cigar.
7
Cami crawled into bed to wallow. Her damp hair made her pillow cold, but she couldn’t muster the willpower to get out of bed and dry it. Instead, she’d decided to let it dry all wonky and style it properly in the morning after she’d showered. Tonight would be for huddling under her comforter and scrolling mindlessly through Reddit until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. It would keep her from dwelling on how broken she was.
Maybe she’d splurge a little and order something gross for delivery. She wouldn’t even have to put on pants to accept the order if she told them to leave it on the landing. Then she might be broken, but she’d have an entire dessert pizza all to herself, so who cared?
Peeping out at her phone from under twelve pounds of duvet, she thumbed out of Reddit and into her contacts to find Joey’s Pizza where it was saved on her Favorites, but the screen looked different. It took her a moment to pinpoint why.
There was a new favorite contact. Next to Joey’s Pizza, there was a purple circle with a D in the middle, and underneath it said, “Des”.
She didn’t even have Des’s number.
Squinting suspiciously, she tapped on the D and held the phone up to her ear. After two rings, the line connected, and Des’s voice hit her ear, cursory and unimpressed.
“Hello?”
“Why is your number in my phone?”
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his tone had become exponentially more congenial. “Cami?”
“Yes?”
His laugh filtered through to her, warming her from the inside. “I didn’t have your number. I thought you were calling to offer me duct cleaning services with a complimentary quote.”
She smiled. “Sadly, I have no idea how to clean ducts.”
“That is unfortunate, but I’m sure you’ll pick it up.”
The line went quiet, and Cami let it sit for a moment. It was ridiculous, and a little embarrassing, how much a few minutes of talking with Des could suck the melancholy right out of her.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.
