The moment my eyes find her in her in the crowd, I can breathe again. My vision is clearer. I’m better when she’s near, even when I deny myself the pleasure of actually looking at her. Most days, it’s better when I don’t. This is one of those days.

“I know you’re all wondering why I asked you to meet me in our theater this morning. Well, today we have a special demonstration of sorts. However, before we get started, I’d like to know how you all handledyour homework assignment last session. Anyone care to share with the class?”

A sardonic smile rests on my lips as I watch them squirming in their seats as they imagine their bodies quaking at their own hands. I can’t help it. I get off on this shit. No matter how I feel about Ally and the future that we can never, ever have, I can’t change who I am. And who I am is not Ally’s husband. So it shouldn’t matter that I love what I do. It shouldn’t matter that I get hard just thinking about a woman slipping her trembling fingers inside her slick pussy for the first time. And it shouldn’t matter that I want sex, need sex, and plan to have sex as soon as I possibly can. My mind might be conflicted about it, but my body definitely doesn’t feel the same. And after today’s class, my mind may quickly follow.

Lacey is the first to raise her hand, and she climbs to her spike-heeled feet. She looks…different, to say the least. Tight red cami, no bra, and a short leather skirt. Huh. Interesting.

“Obviously, that was not my first time,” Lacey begins with an air of arrogance. A few of her colleagues roll their eyes and whisper insults under their breath. “But I did quite enjoy that toy. It was very…potent.”

I call her bluff. “What’d you like about it, Lacey?”

“Um, it was…” she stammers, clutching the top of her exposed chest. A flush sweeps its way from that patch of evocative skin up to her neck until landing on the thin apples of her cheeks. “It was powerful. Strong. Like the moment it touched me, I could feel myself lose control. But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to press it harder.” She closes her eyes, speaking as if we’re the only two in the vast room. Speaking as if she’s communicating something to me… her wants, her desires. “I needed something inside of me.”

I take a step toward her, charging that room with an unseen current. It seems smaller now, more intimate. “And did you put something inside you, Lacey?”

Her voice is raspy and full of need. “Yes.”

“And did it feel good to you?” I match her affected tone.

“Yes.”

My voice dips even lower. “Did you come, Lacey? Did you come with your fingers deep inside your pussy?”

“Y-yes,” she barely whispers.

“Good!” I state with a loud clap of my hands, releasing her from her lustful trance. Lacey’s visibly shaken with the sudden change in the atmosphere, her shallow breaths quickening into a pant. “Now, let’s get started.”

Had this been a regular day and a regular class, I wouldn’t have let her off the hook so easily. I would’ve abandoned my place at the stage to stand behind her, close enough that she could feel my heat, but far enough that she would shiver with the need to be touched. I’d brush those bare shoulders lightly and watch with fascination as goose bumps instantly appeared. She’d tremble with expectation, but I wouldn’t give her any more. Instead, I’d bring my lips to her ear, close enough that I could look down and see her nipples pebble under that thin tank. Then I’d whisper a command, just for her, my words both intoxicating and terrifying her.

“Show me how you touch yourself, Lacey.”

She’d stutter all the reasons why she shouldn’t, shaking her head adamantly. But her body…her body would grow hot with excitement. She’d get wet at the thrill of it. So fucking wet that I’d smell her, telling me she’s not even wearing panties to smother her spicy scent.

When my hand touched hers, still clutched to her chest, she’d flinch but she wouldn’t pull away. She’d let me guide it between her swollen breasts and down to her flat belly, brushing the bit of exposed skin where the hem of her shirt rides up. Then I’d let her fingers play with the jewel in her navel, manipulating each digit as if that diamond-studded barbell was her clit. Demonstrating how I would stroke it for her.

When she began to pant and mewl gently, I’d finally put Lacey out of her misery and guide her hand down further until her fingertips grazed the tops of her thighs. And I’d whisper, “Go ahead, Lacey. Touch yourself. Show me how to please you.”

But I wouldn’t abandon her just yet. She isn’t confident enough. She’d like to believe that she is, but I would feel the trepidation beating from her chest. So I’d ease that hand to the apex of her thighs, to that humid space that aches to be touched. She’d want me to do it, but I wouldn’t, and that would frustrate her. So, I’d tell her again, this time my voice gruffer, more commanding. “Touch your pussy, Lacey.”

With embarrassed tears in her eyes, she’d sink her fingers between her folds, teasing her clit just as we had teased her jeweled belly button. She’d be humiliated and somewhat disgusted with herself, but she would moan and let her head fall back on my shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to help it. Because as mortified as she’d be, she’d be doubly turned on. And I’d stand there, a satisfied grin on my face, because I broke her. I’d unleashed the deviant that had been lying dormant within her walls of inhibition. And when she’d sink the first finger deep inside herself, while me and ten awestruck women watched on in wonder, she’d feel it too. And she’d know that she could never be caged again.

That’s what I’d do under different circumstances. It’s what I’ve done countless times before. But the thought of touching Lacey doesn’t excite me. It doesn’t make the little devil in me rejoice at the opportunity to reduce her to a writhing mess in my theater. It kind of makes me sad that I ever thought it was kosher to do. And even feeling an ounce of remorse pisses me the fuck off.

The little devil sits on my shoulder, whipping his sharp, thorned tail to the back of my neck before jabbing it into my skin. “ Fucking soft,”he hisses in my ear .I can’t even be mad at him.

“OH YEAH…YEAH. Right there, baby. Oh God, yes!”

“Stop!”

I get as close as suitably possible to the couple positioned at the middle of the stage. They look up at me, their eyes hooded and hungry, yet they halt their movements. The man is still buried deep inside of his lover’s warm, wet pussy, and it’s taking every ounce of his self-control not to thrust again. The woman’s naked chest heaves with her labored breaths, and she leans back to rest on the odd-shaped, leather chair currently elevating her pelvis.

That’s right.

We’re watching people have sex.

How are you even surprised?

The couple is a husband and wife team that teaches tantric yoga out in Cali. They’ve also been known to dabble in webcam sex shows online, much like the one they are giving us today. Only difference is, I pay them quite a bit more than $2.99 per minute.

“Now you see the way Brad was thrusting into Laura? Tell me about her. What did you see her doing?” I say, addressing the class. As expected, no one says a word. “Ok, since you all obviously are not paying attention, I want you to watch Laura’s hands. You’ll notice that they are always moving—clutching the chair, pinching her nipples, grabbing Brad’s ass and pushing him in deeper. Still hands are a dead giveaway to bad sex. You should be pawing at your lover like a hungry lioness. Make him feel like you are so overwhelmed with pleasure that you just can’t keep still. Ok? Resume.”

The couple picks up where they left off without missing a beat. Brad holds Laura’s legs wide by her thighs and moves into her, slowly at first. Then he’s gaining momentum, fucking her like a man possessed. Laura croons his name, raking her nails over his bare chest.