“Let’s break for an early lunch, shall we?”

We wait until the rest of the class files out, before Ally turns back to face me. Her cheeks are still pink, and even her hair looks disheveled, like she’s been freshly fucked.

“Your mom was right,” she says, looking up at me with glassy eyes.

“My mom?” I frown.

“You should’ve been a movie star. You’re a damn good actor.”

I raise a brow. “Maybe I should be telling you that.”

Allison shakes her head and laughs nervously, looking down at her feet. “No. I can’t act. Not even a little bit.”

I pull her chin up, refusing to let her hide from me. “Then what was that?”

She shakes her head, her chin still secured between my fingers. Tears fill those wide eyes, and her lip trembles. “I don’t know. I don’t know what that was. I don’t know anything.”

Suddenly, the need to possess her body is a distant memory. Seeing her so shattered because of me, because of this…thing, this undefined attraction that has her just as fucked up in the head as I am, makes me realize just how careless I’ve been with her delicate emotions. She’s been hurt, and somehow, in some way that I don’t seem to understand, I’m hurting her too. I can see it, right in those sad eyes filled with tiny, drowning stars.

“Come here,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. She buries her face into my chest for just a moment before she realizes what she’s doing.

“No. No, I can’t do this. Excuse me…I’m sorry.” And with confused tears sliding down her porcelain face and a trail of fire at her back, the angel runs away from this lonely hell designed especially for me.

DAYS PASS. MAYBE a week.

It’s all the same. Work. Swim. Sometimes I drink. Seldom I eat. Either way, nothing changes. Allison doesn’t come at night. She hardly even looks at me. I feel like I’ve stained her, violated her in some way. Tainted her with wicked temptation. And for once, I’m relieved.

I couldn’t stay away from her, and she wasn’t put off enough by me to keep her distance. So maybe this was necessary. Maybe her physically seeing what I was capable of, was just what she needed to permanently close whatever space she had left open for me in her life. Now she can remove the placeholder. I’m no longer on the guest list.

That’s a good thing. That’s what’s best.

Still... it’s shitty.

Feeling like I had some sort of connection with someone, even platonically, was something I hadn’t experienced in years. Meeting her was like seeing a sunrise after being trapped in a dull, grey room with no windows. It was that first bite of ice cream on a treacherously hot summer’s day. Without her, all is drab. Muted. Tasteless.

Lonely.

But I’m not complaining. The brooding, lonely role is one I play well. I’m an island of one, and I like to keep it that way.

That’s why I couldn’t figure out why the usual excitement surrounding this particular day just wasn’t there. This one had always been one of my favorites. The housewives would be particularly uncomfortable. It tested each one of their boundaries and made them reevaluate their own desires. Seeing them like that – cheeks stained with embarrassment, mouths slack, squirming in their seats with arousal—was like living art to me. That raw emotion was what I lived for.

Yet, now, I feel indifferent about it, maybe even a little sad. Like doing this will be the proverbial nail in the coffin for Ally and me.

Ally and me.

Hmph. I can’t even say that with a straight face.

I watch intently as they all file in, glancing hesitantly at the mechanism that sits in the middle of the room. A few whisper in curious speculation, others in excited anticipation. They can tell shit is about to go down, and who am I to disappoint?

“Good morning, ladies. Today we have a special guest joining us.”

I nod towards the back of the room, and every head turns as a slender brunette in a red silk robe makes her way to the front. I hold my hand out to help her onto the medical-style examination chair. “This is Erin. Erin has been with us for the past few years and is currently a medical student. She will also be helping us out today.”

My voice drops to a husky baritone as if I’m letting them in on a naughty secret. “In order to give pleasure, you need to understand how to receive it. It’s time we became intimate with the female body. With yourbodies. Erin?”

On cue, Erin let’s her robe fall open, exposing her naked frame. Pert, round breasts sit up without a hint of sag, above a flat, flawless belly. Without hesitation, she spreads her legs and places her heels into the extended stirrups, revealing a bare, pink pussy. Hushed shrieks of surprise echo throughout the room, but she hears none of it. She’s used to it by now. And with me pretty much paying her way through med school whilst only working four days a year, she could care less about a few judgmental hens who haven’t clucked since before Miley Cyrus actually owned clothes and brain cells.

“Look familiar, ladies?” I ask, grinning evilly. “No? Probably because you’ve neglected your body, thus denying yourself the opportunity to learn about it. How can you expect your mate to fuck you right if you’re not doing it yourself? No one knows what stimulates you better than you do.

“So, since I don’t have the plumbing required to show you the ins and outs, so to speak, Erin will help me. First, let’s start with the nipples.”

Again, on cue, Erin palms the underside of her breasts, pinching her erect nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. Shocked murmurs resound around the room, which she answers by pinching her swollen buds and grinning.

“Your nipples are the most obvious pleasure points not residing in the female genitalia. However, they are commonly neglected. Who likes their nipples stimulated?”

No one answers at first, but a hand eventually goes up. Lacey Rose, rocker wife and former sex kitten. Several more follow. I make it a point not to look in Ally’s direction. Knowing that about her, knowing I could bring her to orgasm just by teasing her strawberry nipples, would drive me insane. Ignorance is bliss. At least in my case, ignorance is necessary.

I focus my attention back on Erin who smiles up at me. “Ok, good. Now, who likes to play with their nipples when they’re alone?”

Fewer hands this time, but a couple women actually fess up.

“Excellent. Our friend, Erin, is going to demonstrate all the ways you can get off just by nipple stimulation alone. Erin?”

The young, busty brunette begins to pinch and knead her tan-tipped nipples, rolling them with her skilled fingers. She throws her head back in a moan and bites her bottom lip with practiced seduction. Then she brings her fingers up to her mouth, licking the digits before returning them to her swollen breasts. Even with her feet in the stirrups, she tries to close her legs in hopes of creating friction to her neglected pussy. I watch intently, fascinated by the way her sensitive pink flesh quivers with need. Erin looks back at me, her eyes begging me to touch her and put her out of her misery.

Aside from the creak of their chairs from squirming, everyone is silent as they watch Erin stroke and caress herself. A few even unconsciously clutch their own chests, starving to be touched.

Just as Erin is on the brink of bringing herself to orgasm, I gently tap the inside of her thigh, letting my hand linger there. She places her hands to rest at her sides, perfectly poised, save for her ragged breaths. “Very good. Now what can you tell me about what Erin just showed us?”

After a beat, a hand goes up. Lorinda Cosgrove, the dark haired wallflower that is slowly blooming into an exotic Tiger lily. “Um, when she pinched them…she moaned loudly?”