Fingers, nimble and warm, crawled up into Johnnie’s scalp. The sensation was so sudden and so erotic, a strange noise escaped her throat.
The fingers tightened and gripped her, holding her still. The sensation caused her clit to pulse and engorge. “You haven’t been touched in so long, Riot. How long has it been? Years?”
“Ye-yes.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
“You could come right now couldn’t you? Just to the sound and feel of my voice in your ear and my fingers in your hair.”
Johnnie made another small noise as the fingers massaged and then tightened again.
“You’re so starved for it you’re like an exposed nerve ending. The slightest little thing will send you over. That’s why you won’t look at me. That’s why my touch is electrifying you in that chair.”
Johnnie was busy struggling for words when the woman suddenly released her and Johnnie nearly fell limp like a ragdoll in the chair. She straightened quickly and tried to believe that her bones weren’t melting.
“Turn to your right. I’m going to sit on the couch.”
Johnnie turned and faced the door. She was so frazzled and so stirred, she wasn’t sure what she should do. Should she stay? Run out the door? Despite her whirling mind, her body was thrumming, and she was so wet she was afraid to move.
She heard the woman cross to the couch, and she heard the shushing of the cushions and pillows as she made herself comfortable.
“I’m crossing my legs,” she said, somehow knowing it would stroke Johnnie deep inside.
“Can you see me in your mind’s eye?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to answer again now?”
“If I’m able.”
“So you are willing…just not always able. Interesting. You feel things very deeply don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Things that don’t affect most others.”
“I guess.”
“Oh, please don’t guess. I want you to know for sure before you admit something like that.”
Johnnie cleared her throat. “I do, yes.”
“Much better, thank you. Be strong with your words. Even if you can’t be strong emotionally. I want you to know who you are. Own it. We can’t get anywhere until you know yourself.”
Johnnie stared through the door and listened. She could see the woman uncross her legs and then cross the other over.
“Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”
Johnnie grew brave. “I know what you’re wearing.”
“You do?”
“You’re wearing what I requested.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re good. You’re really fucking good at this, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
“Clever girl.”
Johnnie could see the outline of her in her peripheral vision. She had dark, raven-like hair. The kind that reflected the candlelight. She was wearing an off-white silk blouse, a short black skirt, and black heels. Johnnie couldn’t tell, but she knew she had on the thigh highs as well.
Exactly what she’d asked for.
“I aim to please,” she said. “Do you find the room comfortable?”
Johnnie loved the scent, the lighting, and the cozy feel. “Yes.”
“As you grow, we will move.”
“We will?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What if I don’t grow?”
“There’s that worry again.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
Johnnie could hear scratches on a paper. She was writing.
“You’re taking notes?”
She didn’t bother to stop. “Does this bother you?”
“It surprises me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because this is just…you know.”
“Just what?”
“Sex.”
The woman stopped. “I know you don’t really think that.”
“I’m not sure what to think.”
“Would you like me to tell you what to expect? Or would you prefer to…wait and see?”
Johnnie shifted. The choice was once again hers, yet she still felt completely out of control.
She couldn’t bear to know. She couldn’t handle it. It would excite her to no end.
“I will wait.”
“Daring. I like it. Tell me, how do you feel right now?”
Johnnie shifted, uncomfortable with the question. “I’m not sure.”
“Tell the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. There are no right or wrong answers.”
“I’m nervous. Excited. Terrified.”
“Turned on?”
Johnnie swallowed. “Yes.” Then she struggled to change the subject, too moved by what she had just admitted, too moved by what she was feeling. “What if I don’t grow?”
“You already have. You’re here aren’t you? Sitting with me…talking…experiencing.”
Johnnie closed her eyes. She had no control. Her body was reacting and her mind reigniting like a pilot light that had long been out.
“How do you know?”
“It isn’t difficult to know.”
Johnnie knew it was true. She was electrified and it had taken so little. She opened her eyes and focused on the door. It wasn’t locked. Anyone could walk in. What if someone did? What if someone saw her?
“You’re worrying again,” the woman said.
Johnnie nearly turned to argue. But she stilled and swallowed the observation, owning it.
“You find it very hard to relax don’t you? Intensity buzzing through you night and day. I bet you dream. Vividly. And the nightmares…” She took a breath, and Johnnie sat with her heart racing and her head cracked open, oozing out all of her secrets.
“Your art is your outlet. Without it you are…lost.”
The last comment hit a nerve, and Johnnie grew angry at feeling so exposed. “How do you know so goddamned much about me?”
The woman shifted and laughed a little. “It makes you uncomfortable.”
“A little.”
“How can I help you if I don’t know you?”
Johnnie shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought sex was sex.”
“I know you don’t believe that.”
“Maybe I do.”
“You don’t.”
“And why don’t I?”
“Because it’s written all over you. You’re an artist, a creator, a sensitive soul. You feel and sense what others cannot or refuse to feel and see. You take everything in and digest it whether it’s good for you or not. You feel. It’s what you do. It’s what makes you who you are. It’s what makes you such a good artist.”
Johnnie clenched her jaw against the rapid thumping of her heart. “I just want sex. I need sex.”
“No.”
“I’m paying you, right?”
“You are, but you don’t have to. You can leave at any time.”
“You’ll give me my money back and I can just walk right out the door?”
“Yes.”
Johnnie stared at the doorknob. She wanted to stand and reach out for the motherfucker, but she sat nailed to the chair. The woman had her wide open, and she was verbally teasing her with long strokes of a feather. It was killing her, but she wanted more.
“You’re sadistic. You’re going to get off on teasing me.”
More soft laughter. “Such harsh words. I know you don’t mean them.”
“You’re going to hurt me.”
“Never.”
“I didn’t mean physically. I meant—”
“I know what you meant, and the answer remains the same. I will not hurt you.”
“This is hurting me.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s me reading you, and you’re reacting because no one has ever truly done it before.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want to do it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you haven’t moved. You’re still sitting there.”