Chapter 8

Charles Reed

“The suppressants are not enough anymore. You need a real solution, Mr. Reed. You need a sexual partner with this disorder. Even masturbating won’t help.” My private doctor, Dr. John, said.

I felt my heart sink right into my stomach.

I stood in my room, pacing back and forth for what felt like eternity, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

“Find a way… any medicine… I’ll pay double, no, triple the amount.” I urged Dr. John, my voice tight.

But he simply lowered his head, then shook his head. Knowing him personally for more than six years, I knew this was now beyond his reach.

He was the best doctor in the city, and he devoted his loyalty to me, but now he was giving up on my pathetic situation. My shoulders dropped slightly.

I had no choice that day. I was not one to sleep with a girl or any girl for that matter.

I sweated for years building my empire. Fucking shouldn’t be a problem. And I didn’t want the girls who would throw themselves on me either.

And now I’m seated in my new appointment class, facing a nineteen-twenty-year-old who gave me a good fuck and orgasm. My jaw tightened.

I recalled handing out the offer anonymously through my assistant. Then I waited for weeks. I recall booking a hotel after I got a response.

I was expecting some whore, but to my surprise, a shy girl in a black dress.

My heart almost melted, but then she was nothing but a gold digger who is after money. My fingers tapped once against the desk.

*It’s just a deal, nothing more.* I told myself as I snuck a tiny peek at her.

Did she have to sit in the front row? Now my cock was hard and I couldn’t even stand up to finish the rest of the points on the project. I shifted in my chair, adjusting my posture carefully.

I saw her stare at me, biting her lip nervously. Shit. That drove me nuts. My grip on the pen tightened.

Then, for the second time, she excused herself out of class. Good. Maybe I shouldn’t lose my mind over a student. It was wrong.

After all, she was nothing but a gold digger. I can’t fall for a gold digger. Never. My expression remained cold and controlled.

*Emilia Jones*

The second I locked myself in the girls’ bathroom, I slid down my panties and dug my finger down my pussy.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My breath came short and uneven as I leaned back against the cold stall wall. The tile pressed into my spine.

I made sure the toilet door was locked shut, testing the handle twice before I let myself sink further into the moment.

I unbuttoned my shirt with clumsy fingers and began to caress my huge boobs.

They were so big my tiny hands barely fit around them. One slow touch and my nipples got swollen from thirst, tightening under my palms. Gosh, I was so horny.

My head tipped back against the stall wall.

I circled each nipple with my thumbs, pinching lightly, then harder, until a soft gasp slipped out of my mouth. The sensation shot straight down between my legs.

I moved my hand lower again, tracing the soft skin of my stomach before dipping my finger inside myself.

I began to stroke slowly, teasing the entrance first, just the tip of my finger sliding in and out. The wetness was already there, slick and warm. I added a second finger and pushed deeper, curling them against the sensitive spot that made my knees weaken.

With my eyes closed and my heart racing, I focused on the pleasure.

Each time his sweaty face came into my mind...the sharp jaw, the emerald eyes, the way he had looked at me while he fucked me...I felt a cold chill rush through my veins.

My free hand braced against the stall door for balance.

I stroked in deeper, feeling the clenching of my pussy walls around my fingers, then pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in.

The wet sounds filled the small space. I bit my lower lip hard to keep quiet.

I continued for what felt like long minutes, building the pressure slowly.

My hips started moving on their own, rocking against my hand.

I rubbed my clit with my thumb in tight circles while my fingers kept working inside me.

The dual sensation made my thighs shake.

Sweat beaded along my hairline.

My shirt hung open, breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath.

I imagined his weight on top of me again, the stretch of him, the way he had not held back.

My fingers moved faster. The feeling coiled tighter and tighter in my lower belly until it finally snapped. I finally felt my orgasm crash through me in hard waves.

My legs trembled so badly I had to lock my knees.

A silent moan vibrated in my throat as my pussy pulsed around my fingers.

It was my first time touching myself. Because before, I felt like I didn’t feel the need to remember how good a man can kiss me.

I held my hand up and stared at the white juices that covered my finger. With instinct, I licked it. Every bit of it, tasting the salty-sweet proof of what he still did to me even when he was not in the room.

I moaned silently in satisfaction. Contract or not, I needed to feel what Mandy felt when she was being fucked by Mike. Was this what sex felt like? Sure, it was no excuse for him to cheat on me.

But I wanted to feel the heat too. To be touched till I’m begging him to stop.

I wanted to be folded like a pretzel at the second. My cheeks burned as the aftershocks faded.

I came out from the toilet and washed my hands, sprayed myself with the emergency perfume I always carried. My fingers still shook slightly.

And snapped back to reality.

“No one has to know. No one.”

I stared at my phone and saw a transaction alert.

*$5,000 added*

I immediately transferred it to Mom’s account. Every cent reminded me it wasn’t mine. My family needed me. My shoulders sagged with the weight of it.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, then let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Little bunny.” A deep voice called out.

I turned to look around, but it was nothing but my imagination. My pulse jumped.

“I am hallucinating. It must be the orgasm. It has to be.”