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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’retoogood.”
“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.”
