Yeah, still doesn’t look up.
I put my hand on her shoulder, and she jumps and places her hand over her heart. “Shit, sorry, what?”
“Dinner.”
“Oh, right.” She flips the pad over so I can’t see what she’s written, then goes to wash her hands in the downstairs bathroom.
Of course I flip it over and skim through each section.
Never seem to get really wet. Get turned off when I can tell the man is frustrated/mad I haven’t come yet. So used to not coming, I wonder if it’s even worth trying to get there. Consensual chase fantasy, not for real, obviously.
Jesus, fuck.
I double check that the last thing is really in her accelerators.
Yup. It is.
Kinky girl. I like it.
My cock’s been hard on and off all afternoon.
The idea of chasing Rae down and forcing her to take it ...
I hear her footsteps and flip the pad back over.
I don’t know why it feels like such an invasion of her privacy when I’m going to make her walk me through it, but it does.
I wish I hadn’t looked.
I wonder if I can take her somewhere private with wide-open space where I can chase her in the dark. Pin her down. Take her on the earth while she fights me.
Something primal and life affirming.
I place the plates on the kitchen table, then grab two beers from the fridge. I figure a little alcohol might take the edge off prim Miss Miller. I offer it to her, but she shakes her head and sips her water.
“Shit. Sorry. I forgot.” She doesn’t drink. Memories of her dad. I look down at the two beers in my hand and place them back in the fridge. Hersandmine.
“Writing that list was more therapeutic than I thought it would be,” she says.
“Yeah? Tell me.” I return to the table, cut into the chicken, and then take a bite.
“It helped me organize my thoughts. I wrote some things down that were unexpected.”
I think about the chase fantasy.Totallyunexpected.
“I think it’s going to take a while to really process them all. Though your methods would certainly not be used by any reputable therapist, they might help.”
I let her eat some food before I reply.
“Gimme one out of each box,” I say finally.
She flips the pad over and scans the lists. “Mental accelerator: Telling me what we’re going to do in advance, so I have time to think about it. Mental brake: Being told to come. Physical accelerator: Vibration. Physical brake: Sharp fingernails.”
“Ouch to the sharp fingernails.”
Rae looks up. “Honestly, I spend the first part of any first date checking out their fingernails. The last thing you need are scratches up your innards.”
“When you said you can get yourself off no problem, how do you do it?”