(1987) The Celestial Bed (27 page)

‘I don’t see that,’ he protested.

‘You will, Chet, believe me. Once you have your erection, just stay put while I straddle you. If you feel you can’t restrain yourself, let me know at once. I’ll apply the squeeze and retard your ejaculation, and then I’ll caress you until you’re ready again.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like penetration to me.’

‘We’ll get to your kind of penetration when I tell you. For starters, after you’re inside me, and you feel like having an orgasm, let me know, and we’ll keep applying the squeeze technique and letting you penetrate until you can stay inside me for five minutes. Remember, once inside me, if you feel like ejaculating quickly, don’t wait - tell me, and I’ll prevent it.’

‘Whatever you say.’

Gayle took him by the arm. ‘Now let’s lie down together and touch each other, taking turns.’

Once they were side by side on the mat, Gayle began to stroke him, moving her fingers past his genitals to avoid exciting him too

soon. After a while, she lay back and indicated that Hunter could caress her.

When Hunter’s hand reached her breasts, and as he had predicted, his erection was instantaneous. She could feel it against her.

She peered down. Full erection. No problem there.

What happened next would confront the problem. But Gayle was experienced with such cases, and confident.

‘All right, lie back, Chet, and let me do the rest.’

Obediently, he dropped into a supine position, and Gayle rose to her knees, and gently she mounted him. She inched closer to him, until the top of his penis brushed her pubic hair.

‘How do you feel?’ she asked.

His eyes were shut, his expression distorted. ‘Like coming, I feel like - ’

Immediately, her hand darted down to the head of his penis, catching it between three fingers and pressing.

‘Dammit,’ he said as his penis went limp, ‘I could have made it.’

‘You wouldn’t have,’ Gayle counselled him. ‘But you will’

‘When?’

‘Be patient. Tonight. Now let’s start over.’

Still astride him, Gayle’s fingers fluttered around his face, neck, chest. Automatically, he reached up for her breasts over him. At once, his penis began to swell and rise.

Again, she directed his penis toward her vagina, and once again he warned her he was about to ejaculate.

She caught him, and squeezed, and retarded his orgasm.

The process started all over again, and went on for at least ten minutes. Each time she brought him closer and closer to her vagina, and each time she prevented a premature ejaculation.

Lying there, she could feel him relax, his muscles loosening. ‘I’m about wiped,’ he said. ‘I’m beginning to think I can’t - ’

‘You can,’ she interrupted quietly. ‘You will, Chet.’

Slowly, she caressed and stroked him once more. This time it took longer to revive his flaccid member. After ten minutes, after massaging her breasts, he began to grow larger below.

When he had achieved a full erection, she lowered herself on it, let his shaft glide completely into her vagina. She could almost hear the seconds ticking by… Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. ‘Don’t move,’ she whispered, ‘and be sure to let me — ’

But that moment he moved, and his body began shaking and trembling beneath her, and she sat still, feeling his orgasm explode inside her.

When it was over, and he stretched beneath her spent, she slipped to his side and she smiled. ‘Well, I’d say it was a good start, Chet.’

‘I was actually in there all the way, wasn’t I?’

‘Penetration for real.’

‘But not long enough. I got too excited, I couldn’t hold back, didn’t have time to tell you.’

‘Still, you did what you couldn’t do before.’

He looked up at her. ‘Sexual intercourse.’

‘Yes, and it will get better, be of greater duration, if you continue your homework.’

Sitting up, he asked, ‘What’s our goal, Gayle?’

‘The average male — the average — usually has intercourse before orgasm for five to seven minutes. We’re going to keep on until you can do ten minutes. After that you graduate. You’ll make someone very happy.’

‘Yeah, someone,’ he said, nodding, ‘someone’ll be very happy, that’s for sure.’

At nine thirty that evening, after there had been no response to the doorbell, Paul Brandon used his key to enter Gayle’s house.

Going into the bedroom, he found Gayle in bed and sound asleep. He bent closer to her to make sure, and heard her shallow breathing. She was gone for the night.

After studying her beautiful face in the innocent repose of sleep, Brandon shook his head. It was hopeless, he told himself, being in love with a female sex surrogate. Why couldn’t it have been someone average he’d fallen in love with, like a woman spy or a marathon runner or another man’s wife?

Why a female sex surrogate, of all things?

She spelled only trouble.

With a sigh, he put down the box of candy he’d brought her, left, and went out into the darkened night.

Eight

It was while Nan Whitcomb was wrapped in his bathrobe awaiting her crucial exercise - penetration — that Brandon, entering the bedroom to remove his clothes, was startled by the ringing of the telephone.

Usually, Brandon turned down his phones before an exercise was about to begin, but unaccountably he had forgotten to do so before Nan’s arrival. Well, accountably, perhaps, he told himself, because his mind was still occupied by thoughts of his failure to make contact with Gayle last night, and by his apprehension of what immediately lay ahead with Nan.

The phone was still ringing, and since Nan had just gone into the bathroom, Brandon felt safe in picking it up.

The voice on the other end was Gayle’s. ‘Paul? Am I disturbing you?’

‘Not at all.’

‘I’m just waking up completely, and my head’s a little cobwebby — but I found the candy and have a feeling that you were here last night. Were you?’

Brandon smiled to himself. ‘Well, as they say, if a tree falls in a forest, and no one hears it, did that tree really fall in the forest? Well, my dear, I fell at your feet last night, but no one heard me. Was I there? Yes, I was there.’

Gayle sounded stricken. ‘You were? Oh, dear God, forgive me. I’m truly sorry. I dozed off on you.’

‘You were exhausted, so it’s understandable.’

‘Do forgive me. I wanted to be with you. Paul, how can I make it up to you?’

‘By being with me tonight. Why don’t I pick you up for dinner — that is, if you won’t be too tired?’

‘I won’t be tired tonight. I’m just having my hair done this afternoon.’

‘Let’s say I come by at seven thirty. I’ll have a reservation at Restaurant Lapin Agile. French, but still casual.’

‘I’ll be ready.’

‘Can’t wait.’

He hung up, turned off the sound on the telephone, then quickly turned off the sound on his two extension phones and hastened back to the bedroom to get ready for the reappearance of Nan Whitcomb.

He had taken off the last of his clothes when he saw Nan, still wearing his towelling robe, standing in the bedroom doorway observing him lovingly.

Slowly, almost teasingly, she unbelted the white robe and slipped out of it. Casting it aside, briefly allowing him to take in her nudity, she advanced towards him. As she approached him, he became aware that she had sprayed herself with some kind of exotic-smelling perfume. She kissed him on the cheek, and proceeded to the bed, where she sat down.

‘Today’s the day, isn’t it?’

Momentarily, Brandon felt unnerved. She was treating this session like a long-awaited honeymoon night.

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Penetration,’ she said softly.

He tried to strengthen his resolve to remind her, after it was over, that they were not lovers but teacher and patient, and that soon her therapy would be finished and their relationship would end.

‘Non-demand penetration,’ he emphasised. ‘You are not expected to respond.’

She didn’t pout, but the movement of her bony neck and shoulders had the effect of pouting. ‘Why non-demand?’

‘Because this exercise is to prove to you that you can again be entered totally and without pain, and nothing else has to be proved.’

She blinked at him. ‘I hope I’m all right, Paul. I can’t imagine having that awful tightening with you.’

He tried to maintain some kind of’professional stance. ‘If our exercises have gone well — and I think they have — there should be no problem.’

Nan lifted her legs onto the bed, and pushed herself against the pillows at the headboard. Brandon walked to the bed and lowered himself beside her.

‘What do I do now?’ she inquired innocently.

‘We’ll start with frontal caressing, taking turns, to get ourselves into the mood.’

‘I am in the mood, Paul,’ she said simply.

‘That helps.’

‘I’m wet down there.’ She offered a shy smile. ‘Not difficult. I’ve been looking at you.’

Somehow, he sensed, he had to slow her down. ‘Fine. But before we start, I’d like to say a few things.’

‘Whatever you want.’

‘Your only prolonged relationship with a male has been with Tony Zecca. As a result, you may still have some negative body images about yourself.’

‘I think maybe you’ve helped me overcome them. I feel more attractive now.’

He concurred. ‘You are attractive. At the same time, with Tony, you had no pleasure, only pain, and no orgasms.’

‘That’s true.’

Brandon went on doggedly, ‘With Tony you turned off all your physical receptors, experienced no joyous physical sensation. My goal, in our programme, has been to get you in touch with your own sensuality.’

She smiled less shyly. ‘I’m positive you’ve succeeded, Paul. I’ve never felt ours was an artificial relationship only. Even though this is paid for, and we talk to a therapist, I felt from early on that what’s between us is something more. I’ve stopped thinking of you as a surrogate.’ She hesitated. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

Brandon wasn’t sure if he was perspiring, but he felt as if he was. He wanted to let her know, in these moments, that a vital part of their therapeutic relationship was disengaging themselves from each other soon and being able to say good-bye to all that had been happening between them. This was the time to tell her that, and yet in observing her vulnerability, he could not bring himself to do so.

‘Yes,’ he said weakly, ‘that is good, and I appreciate it.’ He paused. ‘All right, Nan, let’s get into our feelings and relax and have pleasure in our relationship. Close your eyes and let’s begin.’

Brandon began to stroke her, and after that she stroked him. She was extremely receptive to his touch, and had become expert in her caressing of him.

There would be no problem with his erection. He was ready for her.

He looked at her. ‘All right, Nan. Let’s try penetration. Non-demand penetration. I’ll lie here, flat on my back. You lift yourself up and get on top of me. Then, very gradually, lower yourself down on me, until I’ve entered you fully. I won’t move. Don’t you move either, once I’m inside you. If you have any pain, let me know at once.’

Nan nodded eagerly and climbed above him. His erection held, and he braced himself for their first contact.

‘Remember, Nan, no thrusting from either of us. Even if you feel like it, don’t. Just get used to my being inside you.’

She had his penis in one hand, as she arranged herself over it, and moved it until it touched her vaginal lips, and then she eased herself downwards. When his penis slid into her, she continued downward until she engulfed him.

‘No pain?’ he asked.

‘It’s wonderful,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I feel ecstatic. Let me move a little, Paul.’

‘No.’

‘Please — ’

‘Absolutely no.’

‘But I’m marvellous now. I’m all well. Paul, darling, I love it, I love it more than anything …’

With his hands firmly on her arms, he lifted her off him and withdrew, and she fell beside him, hugging and snuggling and kissing him, and whispering, ‘And I love you even more. I’ll love you forever.’

He tried to respond, without being too responsive, and as quickly as it could be done, he brought their exercise session to an end.

Once she was dressed, and at the door, she halted briefly. ‘The same time tomorrow?’

‘Yes, Nan.’

‘Will it be more, more of the same?’

‘Yes.’

‘But closer to the real thing? I mean, moving?’

‘Yes,’ he said almost inaudibly.

She kissed him. ‘I do love you,’ she said.

Peering through the living room window, he saw her drive off. Troubled, he went through his apartment turning on the volume of the telephones again.

The resolve to overcome his problem — Nan’s obvious emotional involvement with him — now had become an urgent necessity. Lingering over his bedroom phone, he lifted the receiver and dialled the Freeberg Clinic. He asked to speak to Dr Freeberg. He learned that the therapist was out on a business call, but would be back in an hour or so. Brandon left word for Freeberg to phone him as soon as he could.

Pacing about his living room, puffing away at his pipe, Brandon brooded over the matter. He tried, in his mind, to clarify every instance of Nan’s involvement with him, its seriousness, her determination to block out their professional relationship and regard him as her real-life boyfriend. This could not continue, he knew, and yet he was incapable of telling her it was a professional relationship that would be over within a week. He knew that, much as he hated to do so, he would have to allow Dr Freeberg to take him off the case and replace him with another male surrogate to wind up the therapy with Nan.

An hour and a half passed before Dr Freeberg returned his call.

‘How are you, Paul?’ Freeberg wanted to know.

‘Never better.’

‘Your message says you wanted to consult me about something.’

‘There is something I wanted to report, Doctor. I — ‘ And then what he had prepared himself to say, what he had rehearsed, became stuck in some recess of his throat.

He pictured Nan being summoned by Dr Freeberg tomorrow, and being told that Paul Brandon had to be taken off her case and that a substitute would appear in his place.