“What was it? I got distracted imagining you in coveralls.”
She rolled her eyes. It was easy to imagine him relaxing on some kind of expansive leather sofa, his feet kicked up as he nursed a glass of whiskey older than she was. Was that what he was doing right now? Or was he out somewhere, eating gourmet food on a date with a high-powered businesswoman?
The image stung for a second, before her rational brain kicked in and reminded her that he’d hardly be so impolite as to answer a scam call on a dinner date. He was better mannered than that.
“I asked how your number got into my phone. For that matter, how did you get saved to my favorites list?”
“I added myself as a contact when I was loading those videos for you.” He said it so casually, like he’d been saving adorable cat videos instead of well-produced pornography. “As for yourfavorites list, I’m afraid I have no idea. You must have added me yourself, probably because you find me so charming. I would never be so presumptuous as to claim that designation myself.”
“Of course not.” She dug herself out of her burrito a bit, freeing her arms and tucking the comforter under her armpits as she rolled onto her back. “Well, thanks for clearing that up for me. I’ll let you get back to your evening.”
“Wait,” he hurried. “How did it go?”
“How did what go?”
“The videos.” The reminder of how she’d spent her evening came crashing back with a hot wash of shame and she immediately reversed her comforter progress, grabbing the edge and pulling it up over her head. “Did they work for you?” Des continued. “Did you like them?” As though he was asking her to review a Netflix recommendation.
“I liked the massage one,” she admitted. Normally such a statement would set her aflame with embarrassment, but it seemed like her disappointment overrode her sense of southern modesty.
“Did it get you off?”
God, she didn’t want to talk about this. Not with Des. Not with anyone. She wanted to grow old and shrivelled and die without anyone else knowing how fucked up she was.
A lump of emotion stung in her throat, and she willed herself not to cry again. She didn’t know how she’d ever look Des in the eye again if she started bawling on the phone with him. She was silent for longer than she should have been, long enough that she thought he might prompt her, but he didn’t. She took a long, shaky inhale, and said, “No.”
He waited.
“It didn’t work,” she admitted finally. “I can’t make myself—come. I never have.”
The truth, but not the whole truth. It felt easier to swallow than admitting that she’d never come at all, that no man she’d been with had ever been able to get her there either. Like if she couldn’t get the lid off of a jar herself, she could at least ask someone else to try. But if no one else could get it off either, there was nothing to be done. The pickles inside would go uneaten.
A ridiculous metaphor, sure, but she liked pickles. At least she knew what pickles tasted like.
“I see,” Des said finally. There was a measured hesitation to his tone. “That must be very frustrating for you. I’m sorry if all my toy and porn suggestions this past week have made you feel pressured or?—”
“They haven’t.” She freed herself from her duvet prison. The air felt fresh and cool on her cheeks after the heat of her cocoon. “I appreciate you trying to help, even if you didn’t realize you were. You gave it your best shot, and I even got close thanks to you, but I don’t know. I just can’t quite get there. It’s not your fault.”
“Hey, wait. That wasn’t my best shot.”
Huh? Her brow screwed up in confusion. “It wasn’t?”
“No. Cami, I was barely trying with those recommendations. If I’d known you were having trouble, I would have picked a different toy, or, I don’t know, found some higher quality porn. I thought we were just having fun, I didn’t know there was a goal.”
“Des, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter! Orgasms are a basic human right!”
“I’m touched that you care that much, really.” She sighed. “But I’ve tried everything I can think of. At this point, I’ve exhausted all available options.”
“Wrong,” he said. She fell silent, certain that he was about to start raving about one of the toys he’d designed, something guaranteed to give her multiple orgasms. But he didn’t. Instead,his voice quiet and almost vibrating with intent, he said, “Where are you right now?”
She was too confused to do anything but answer. “In bed. Why?”
“Stop me if you feel uncomfortable, alright?”
“...Okay?”
“I want you to relax. Take a nice deep inhale and then let it out.” Des’s tone was even, soothing in its sincerity. “Close your eyes. Can you do that for me, Cami?”
