The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BUSMAN’S HOLIDAY

© Copyright 2002-2007 by Wiseguy

ix

My head was spinning as I made my way back toward the green room. An innovative crew, a great bunch of volunteers, and a little inspired teamwork by the user and the teacher had made for an outstanding show. I couldn’t wait to get rid of my gear and find out what Monica had thought of the experience.

I would have to, though. As soon as I stepped through the door to the green room I was momentarily blinded by camera flashes. I heard champagne corks pop and people cheering, and I felt myself being tugged toward a table in the middle of the room. My vision cleared from the flashes and familiar faces became discernible: Marv, the guy who’d gotten me into this in the first place; the manager of the cafe where I’d been eating breakfast all week; Anita de los Santos, the resort’s entertainment director and draftee into my first show; Janey Matullo, the comedienne who’d opened for me that night; Rudi, Todd, Regan, and half a dozen more of Redman’s technical crew; and Stu Redman himself.

On the table was a large round cake bearing a classic spiral like the one on my hypnodisc. Regan held out a large knife, handle first, but Janey Matullo grabbed it out of her hand. “I’ll take that,” she insisted, and then flashed that subversive smile of hers. “You don’t give long, sharp objects to a guy named Jack Torrance.”

While she cut cake Todd and Redman poured champagne for everyone. Anita de los Santos handed me a full flute and kissed my cheek. “You were wonderful, Señor Jack.”

Gracias,” I replied as we clinked glasses. “But I had the easiest job of anyone. The volunteers, and all these people in black, are the ones who really made the show work.”

“That’s right,” Rudi called out. “Techies rule!”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, then I raised my glass. “To the techies.”

“The techies!”

Redman chuckled. “Next time, tell us beforehand when you think you’ll want props and music. You’d be amazed what we have in the property shed.”

“Wait a minute,” I objected, smiling. “Who said anything about a next time?”

That was Marv’s cue, of course. “You’re kidding me, right? Jack, buddy, you killed this week. Upwards of a thousand people are going to go home and tell all their friends about the amazing hypnosis shows they saw at Uninhibited! People are asking the front desk when you’ll be back so they can book reservations. You can’t quit now.”

“But what about the magician?”

Marv’s hand moved in a dismissive wave. “Forget the magician. I don’t care if he appears in a puff of smoke and threatens to make the whole island disappear. This slot is yours for as long as you want it, Jack. And don’t even pretend you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

He had me there.

The general laughter hushed as Redman cleared his throat loudly. “I hate to be the party pooper here, but half the people in this room are getting overtime right now and we still have a lot of cleanup to do. So if you wouldn’t mind taking your cake to go, Jack and I have some final things to take care of and so do the crew.”

We all groaned, but he was right. In a minute or so everyone had filed out except for myself and Redman. I laid the hand mic on the table and, with a bit of finagling, the lavaliere with its transmitter and white cord. “So,” I asked Redman, “what’s left for us?”

“Nothing,” he admitted as he picked up the equipment and headed for the far door. “Just keeping a promise.” Then he nodded toward the room behind me and said, “The room’s all yours.”

I turned around just in time to be gang hugged by Monica and Claire. “You didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you?” Claire said.

“Of course not. Here, have some cake.”

I gave them each a piece. Monica took a small bite and set the rest down. “It’s good,” she said, “but I’m trying to keep my girlish figure.”

“Too late,” I told her. “I’ve been watching your figure all week, and there’s nothing girlish about it.”

Claire almost spit out her cake laughing. “He should know. He and a few hundred other people who saw it tonight.”

My guts turned a little wobbly at the reminder. I had to ask. “How are you doing with that? Any regrets?”

Monica smiled and embraced me again. “None,” she assured me. “I get it now. When I saw your first show I thought it was all about impressing the audience with how smart you are, to make people debase themselves for you. And then the second show seemed to be mostly about getting that one guy in hot water with his girlfriend. But now that I’ve been up there with you, I understand—it’s really about showing how clever and creative you can get people to be, within their own bounds. You didn’t ask me to do anything I would have minded doing, and while I seemed to almost automatically go along with things I knew deep down that I always had a choice. It was liberating and fun, and exactly what I wanted from my vacation.” She punctuated the speech with a long, passionate kiss.

“Hey,” Claire cut in, “I want some of that action, too.” Monica chuckled and stepped back to let Claire take her place. Her arms slipped inside my jacket and started roaming.

“What are you doing?”

She giggled. “Making sure you’re not still wearing a live microphone. Remember the elevator?”

Oh, yes. How could I not remember the elevator?

“Being so aroused, so focused on what you wanted ... " Claire’s voice completed my thought for me.

At the same time I became aware of Monica’s hands on my arm and her voice speaking into my other ear. “Relax and let go ... ”

“Feeling your mind relaxing, drifting, floating ...”

“Allowing yourself right now to slide so easily into trance...”

“Sliding so easily in and out of me as you go deeper and deeper ...”

“Just relaxing easily, going so deep now...”

Just as I was starting to process things, they walked around me and switched sides. Claire began whispering about how good it felt to be deep, and Monica talked about imagining myself floating and drifting, calm and peaceful. My head started buzzing and I felt myself slipping away. If I was going to stop this, it would take some active and immediate resistance.

“It’s okay, Jack, to let go now ...”

“Feeling so warm, so comfortable, so ready to sleep ...”

“And how good will it feel, Jack, to just let it happen?”

“ ... so easy to let your mind drift and float on our words ...”

“ ... so easy to let yourself be hypnotized so easily by my voice ...”

“ ... to drift and float ...”

“ ... deeper and deeper ...”

I can’t honestly say whether I made a conscious decision or not. Their voices swirled around me and I felt that pleasant, dreamy fog flow through my mind and it didn’t really matter anymore whether I wanted to be hypnotized because I already was. And I was okay with it. I’d have been okay with just about anything if it involved the continued stroking, both verbal and physical, I was experiencing then.

My mind let go and I became a back seat passenger in my own body. My muscles relaxed and I almost went down but they caught me and supported me by each taking an arm and draping it over her shoulder. Monica spoke and I felt my legs becoming stronger, able to support my weight, able even to walk.

My eyes opened and I noticed that we were, indeed, walking. Through the back door of the green room, through the back offices of the tech crew, and then through a service door to the elevator lobby. A few people eyed me strangely, and I imagined to them it must look as though Claire and Monica were taking a drunk to bed.

The elevator rose slowly. Both voices kept pouring into my ears, but I was beyond processing or remembering what they said. I just know that everything grew more and more distant as the numbers counted up to twelve. That, and that my body had a raging hard-on from being caressed by two incredibly beautiful women.

Claire took the key card from my shirt pocket and opened the door for us. Once inside they positioned me in front of the dressing mirror and made sure my legs would support me before letting my arms go. My eyes were so heavy, but somehow they managed to focus on my image in the mirror. I watched passively as Clair and Monica stripped my clothes off. My body moved automatically at their touch, just enough to allow them to slip the clothes free, and no more. I’m a life-sized Jack action figure, I thought to myself. Anatomically correct and everything. That anatomy became fully available for inspection as Monica slid my boxers down to the floor and carefully lifted my feet out of them while Claire helped me maintain balance.

“Now, Jack,” Monica was saying, “it’s your turn. Claire is going to stand very still now; I want you to strip her, slowly and sensually. You can let your mind go deeper into trance with every item you remove from Claire’s body. You can let your body become more aroused each time you touch her, and your body can express that arousal by touching Claire in ways that will arouse her as well. ”

Claire wore a black cocktail dress and heels. She turned her back to me and I felt my body moving as commanded. My hands opened the zipper slowly and gently spread the fabric apart at the same time. When it was fully open both hands slid inside the dress just above the bra strap and pushed it off her shoulders. I let my hands brush against her bra cups as I did it and then sweep down, lightly riding over her smooth stomach and just teasing her panty line. The dress fell to the floor around her feet. Claire lifted one foot and then the other to allow me to pick up the dress, and while I had her feet in hand I removed her shoes as well. As I rose to my feet I kissed Claire all the way up her leg, over her buttock, and up to the middle of her back. I slipped my hands inside the band of her bra and then forward, letting them cup her breasts while they pushed the bra up and out of the way. I rolled each already-erect nipple gently between my fingers for a moment and then lifted the bra over her head without ever bothering to unhook it. I kissed the inside of her neck and slid my hands back down the front of her body, again pausing at the breasts for a gentle squeeze, and inside the front of her panties. It was moist and hot down there already. I ran my fingers through the little tufts of fur and pressed ever so gently against her mound. Her sharp gasp told me I’d done it just right. A couple of smooth caresses got her moaning and wanting more. My hands grasped the panties and pulled them down to the floor.

“All right, Jack, " Claire said, moving behind me. “Now it’s Monica’s turn. You’ve wanted her all week, and now this your chance to explore her body. Take her clothes off even more sensually than you did mine. For the rest of the night, Jack, anything you do with the intention of arousing Monica will also arouse you. Every sign you notice of Monica’s arousal also arouses you.”

Monica was in front of me facing the mirror. I came up behind her and let my hard cock push against her bottom through the dress. There wasn’t much to take off because I’d already seen she wasn’t wearing a bra or slip under the sundress, just panties. My hands felt their way around her sides to the buttons on the front of her dress, deliberately resting against her breasts as they started with the top button. At the same time I nibbled softly on her ear and planted tiny kisses down the side of her neck and along her shoulder. By the time I came to the right strap on the dress I had several buttons open, so I flicked the strap off the shoulder with my tongue, kissed my way over to the other shoulder, and did the same there. Then, and only then, did I reach inside the dress and cup her breasts in my hands. She was flushed and breathing heavily already, and feeling this made me painfully aware of how badly my body wanted to come.

I took her dress and shoes off the same way I’d done Claire, but I let my hands linger over her groin as I worked the dress past her hips. When she was down to just panties I turned her around and removed them with my teeth. I could see through her trimmed red thatch that her clit was already standing out for attention, so I nuzzled it with my nose and heard the catch in her breath that I’d hoped for. I was about to explode, but then Claire put a hand on my neck and whispered something into my ear and the pressure backed off.

When I stood up I was face to face with Monica and felt Claire’s hands on my back. Monica’s eyes met mine. “Do you want me, Jack?”

I was too deep for an elaborate answer. “Very much.”

“Then have me, Jack. Show me how much you want me. Do what you’ve been wanting to do all week, and feel it throughout your body.”

She put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a delicious kiss. Her body pressed against mine everywhere from crotch to chest. My hands roamed over her shoulders, her back, her bottom. I grabbed two handfuls of well-toned buttock and lifted Monica onto my waiting shaft. She slid down easily and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck for support. I lost balance a little and pressed her back against the mirror as my hips moved to start pumping her up and down. Claire whispered into my ear but I was too focused on Monica’s body and the mounting tension in my groin to note the words. Something about wanting to come, but holding my release.

My legs wanted to give out, so I grabbed Monica even more tightly and turned for the bed. She held on and kept moving in rhythm with me the whole way over – maybe six steps, truth be told – and barely broke stride when I lowered her onto it. Her legs held me in the saddle and she lay back against the bed. Her chest was heaving and glistened with a thin layer of sweat. I stood there with Monica on the bed and kept pumping away. Claire’s hand roamed across my back and bottom and even reached between my legs now and then to tease and further arouse me. Monica gasped and rocked and clawed at the bedsheets with the strength of her orgasm. Claire took that moment to speak into my ear again, and this time I heard it clearly: “Three ... two ... one ... now.”

My body went nuts. I felt a burst of erotic energy explode from my groin and rip through my entire body, like a dozen orgasms all happening at once. I heard a male voice babbling and moaning and realized it was me. My heart pounded in my chest and my lungs heaved, and then it slowly subsided and I realized one other thing: my cock was still hard.

“You don’t get off that easily,” Claire teased. “My turn.”

Monica’s legs let go and dropped slowly to the floor while she panted her way through the tail end of her climax. Clair took my erect cock in her hand and led me by it to the foot of the bed. She lay back the way Monica had and stretched, while her legs reached out and rubbed against my thighs. “Would you like to come like that again, Jack?”

“Yes.” As I said, I’m a lot less glib when I’m somnambulating.

“Then do me. Make me come and you’ll have another orgasm every bit as strong as the one you just experienced with Monica. Do it now.”

I dropped to my knees and crept up to the edge of the bed. Claire squealed in anticipation and draped her legs over my shoulders. She was ready and then some. I carefully spread her outer lips apart with my thumbs and went to work on her with my lips and tongue. Her scent filled my head and I felt that energy building again in my crotch. Then there was the sensation of soft, feminine hands on my back and Monica’s voice in my ear. “That’s right, Jack ... you know so well how to please her, and everything you do gets you more and more aroused. You can feel her body responding to you and every time she does you feel the pleasure building for both of you. Feel it, Jack. Make her come.”

I hardly needed the encouragement, but Monica’s words put even more focus into my efforts. Soon Claire was writhing under me and clutching at the bedsheets. Monica leaned in to my ear and said, “Three ... two ... one ... now.” Once again I felt that amazing surge of pleasure and energy and time just seemed to stand still while my body soaked it all in. I had a sensation of drifting and floating a few inches above my actual body, watching Claire enjoy her orgasm while Monica watched me have mine.

Claire’s legs were a limp, dead weight hanging on my shoulders and my back muscles began to protest a bit. “Getting tired, Jack?” Monica asked softly. “How good would it feel right now to lie down on the bed and let your body relax?”

She didn’t need to say it twice. My body stood up all on its own and climbed onto the bed. At Monica’s further suggestion I put myself in the middle of the bed on my back. Amazingly, my penis remained hard as ever and sticking straight up despite two amazing orgasms. I dimly realized something was odd there but my conscious mind was in no condition to analyze it.

Claire had composed herself and rolled over next to me. Her fingers toyed with my chest hair while she planted little kisses on my face. “Somebody isn’t finished yet,” she noted, and gave my package a little squeeze.

“I think we can take care of that,” Monica said. I couldn’t see what she was doing but I heard a tearing sound like a foil packet being opened. “Let’s dress you up for the finale, shall we?”

My cock strained upward involuntarily as Monica rolled a condom onto it. I was so slick that it went on easily.

Claire rose up and moved down toward my groin. “I’d better make sure that’s seated properly,” she joked. Monica moved back a little and Claire gave the condom a good, solid test by wiping saliva all over it with her tongue and then plunging her mouth down over me. She licked and sucked and drove me to distraction. I started to move and Monica shut me down. “Relax, Jack,” her melodic voice instructed. “Let your arms and legs become so heavy that it’s just too much trouble to move them. It’s just too much trouble to even think about moving them. Just let your body focus on the pleasure Claire is giving you. Perhaps you haven’t yet noticed that already you can feel another orgasm building, and you know that it’s going to happen very soon because you feel so good.”

My mouth moved to speak but instead ended up involved in a deep, long kiss from Monica. My hips began to flex on their own and my cock begged for release. Monica’s lips moved from my mouth to my ear and again I heard her count down, “Three ... two ... one ... now.”

Claire held on to my hard cock while I rode out another orgasm. It stayed hard and firm in her hand. As my breathing slowed again she winked at Monica and they changed positions. This time Claire began kissing me and caressing my upper body and Monica lowered herself cowgirl-style onto my still-straining cock. She gave a shiver as she seated herself on me and I could feel even through the condom how warm and wet she was.

“Once more, Jack,” she said softly as her eyes fixed onto mine. “Look into my eyes and wonder, really wonder, how soon you will notice that energy building up again inside you. How much more pleasure are you prepared to experience as you realize that even now your body is responding to me again?”

It was. I could feel it building in my groin, getting stronger with each rock of Monica’s hips against mine. Her muscled clenched around me and multiplied the sensations. I became dimly aware that Claire was kissing me and noticed that she was lying face down on my right arm. I managed to turn my hand a little. My fingers felt soft blond fur and lots of warm moisture.

“Oh, so you can move a little,” Claire breathed. “That’s fine, Jack. If you want to, you can even let that arm and hand become light and controllable and touch me all you like. Every touch feels so erotic to you, so arousing. You love the way it feels to make me come.”

Claire’s mouth engaged with mine and my fingers probed her slit energetically. Monica’s rhythm increased and her breathing grew a little more ragged. She blinked heavily at me and began to count. “One.”

Claire’s mouth released mine for a moment. “Two.” I felt my cock tingling and the energy in my loins doubling.

“Three.”

“Four.”

Three times that night I’d been at the point of believing myself about to burst. Now I felt that way again, only I had a feeling this was not the end.

“Five.”

“Six.”

I found Claire’s swollen clit and massaged the folds around it with all the finesse my hand could muster. Her hips pressed down against me and her rhythm picked up along with Monica’s.

“Seven.”

“E ... e ... EIGHT!”

Claire released my mouth and grabbed onto my upper body with all of her strength. The only thing coming out of her mouth for a while would be gasps, cries, and the occasional “Oh, God!”

“Nine!” Monica’s mouth opened wide, her eyes rolled up and her back arched. “Ahh! TEN! TEN! TENNNNNNNNNNNN!”

For just a moment I thought my heart had stopped. My cock jumped and my balls pulsed and all of my mental circuitry overloaded. Ten seconds, ten minutes ... I couldn’t begin to tell you how long I pumped my seed into that condom, I can only say that I’d never felt anything like it before.

The white spots started to clear from my sight just in time to see Monica’s exhausted, triumphant smile. She slid off of my finally-shrinking cock, the condom still mercifully intact, and nestled herself against my left side. Claire was still panting on my right. All three of us were soaked in sweat.

Monica hugged me and planted another long, passionate kiss on me. “Sleep now, Jack.”

And just like that, I did.

I woke up to the sound of women giggling. My eyes struggled to open and then squinted against the light. I lifted and shook my head and just made out two short women in powder blue uniforms pushing a cart back into the hallway. “So sorry, sir,” one of them said. “There was no answer to our knock. We’ll come back later.”

The door closed and my head cleared enough to wonder what the hell they were giggling about. This was Uninhibited, the adult resort. Hadn’t they ever seen a naked guy lying spread eagle across a bed before?

Then it registered that I was alone. I got up and looked around the suite, but the only evidence I found of my lovely bedmates was their lingering scent in the sheets. No note, no nothing. But at least I figured out why the housekeepers were giggling. As I walked past the long mirror, I noticed a flash of color in an unusual place.

There were lip prints on my penis. In two shades of lipstick.

By the time I made it down to breakfast they were clearing away most of it. The omelet chef offered to retrieve his pans but I told him it was fine and just grabbed a plate full of stuff from the remains of the buffet. I plopped down at my usual seat and imagined Monica and Claire sitting across from me. You learned well, I thought, and raised my glass of juice in tribute.

“Mind if I join you?”

The smooth, melodic voice belonged to Mistress Angelica.

“If you like. Where’s your entourage?”

“Enjoying some downtime,” she explained as she sat beside me. “Yours?”

I looked at my watch. “About 35,000 feet up, somewhere over the southern US, I imagine.”

“You miss them.” An observation, not a question.

I shrugged. “We didn’t get to say goodbye.”

A sly smile crept across Ann’s face. “Maybe you just don’t remember.”

I almost smacked myself in the forehead. “It was you,” I said. “You got them alone and programmed them to do all that.”

Her laugh was disarming. “You give me too much credit, Jack. I’m not that magnanimous. No, whatever those ladies did with you last night was entirely their own idea.” A pseudo-innocent, wistful expression appeared on her face. “That’s not to say that I mightn’t have offered a few pointers. A brief discussion of male multiple orgasms, perhaps a few other interesting techniques from my own experience. They’re such quick learners, those two.”

All I could do was shake my head and sigh. “That they are.”

“By the way,” she added, reaching into her bag, “they paid me a short visit on their way out. They said they didn’t have the heart to wake you and asked me to give you this.”

The envelope contained a single sheet of resort stationary.

Dear Jack,

You look so sweet and innocent when you’re asleep. Please don’t be upset with us; we both hate tearful goodbyes and, well, we’re not terribly coherent this early in the morning anyway. You should see the mound of crumpled-up pages in the wastebasket right now.

Besides, we established when we first met that we’re practically neighbors. So wrap up your business, catch your flight, and next weekend we can get together again. Both of our home addresses and phone numbers are at the bottom of the page.

There’s just one catch, Jack: we love you dearly, but we’re terrible at sharing. Last night was a one-time event; call it a product of that liberating Uninhibited ambiance you told us about. Going forward, as long as we’re both in your life only one of us can be in your bed. We’ve discussed this at length and decided that we can be happy either way, but neither of us is quite willing to make the sacrifice voluntarily. That leaves the choice up to you.

Have a safe trip and think of us fondly.

Your hypno-groupies,
Claire & Monica

“You have quite a task ahead of you.”

I’d forgotten that Ann was still sitting there. “You read it, then?”

She had the good grace to blush. “Nosy of me, I know. Curiosity is my besetting sin. And right now, Jack, I’m curious as to what your answer will be.”

Our eyes met. “So am I.”

Throughout the week, while lecturing and playing with both ladies, I had managed to avoid thinking about what would happen when the vacation was over. Now, thanks to the girls’ absence and their dropping the burden of choice on me, I could think of little else even as I sat through a postmortem with the tech crew and visited with Anita de los Santos to book my return visit for the next season. I went for July again, knowing school would be out but unsure of whether that would really matter by then.

Marvin Levy talked into my ear throughout a long lunch and I retained maybe every third word. He made sure I had a thick stack of papers – a performance contract for my lawyer to examine along with current financials on the resort – to take with me for the trip home. Soon after that I was back in the white SUV on my way to the airport and home.

Monday came too soon and brought no resolution to my romantic dilemma. I thought I’d managed to shove it back into the background well enough, but Ellen dispelled that illusion as soon as our last morning client left.

“Your body is here,” she noted, “but you seem like your mind is somewhere else. Still in Puerto Rico, maybe?”

“Yes and no.” And with no further prompting, I told her about my vacation, about Claire and Monica, and about the choice they’d left me. I left out the more salacious material, but Ellen knows me well and I could see in her face that she was inferring a lot of what I didn’t say.

“Sounds as if a good time was had by all,” she remarked. “Judging by the way your color and breathing change when you talk about these women, I can understand why you’re distracted.”

“Gee, thanks,” I groused. “Any other profound insights you’d like to share?”

“Sure,” she replied, letting her voice soften a little. “Deep inside, Jack, you already know what your heart wants. Sometime soon you’ll realize that your inner self has already decided what to do and is just waiting for you to finish intellectualizing. The answer will come naturally when you let it.” A discreet chime sounded, alerting us that Ellen’s first afternoon client had arrived. She stood and headed toward her office, but paused for a moment in the doorway. “By the way ... is Monica a redhead?”

Huh? “Yes ... but I didn’t say anything about hair color.”

Ellen laughed. “Maybe not verbally, but I know that look of yours.” With a wink and a flip of her own red hair she left me alone and even more confused. I hate it when she does that.

The girls themselves were no help either. During the week I spoke with each of them on the phone, hoping to catch a subtle hint of a preference, but they’d prepared for that.

“We spent a lot of time talking about this,” Claire told me. “The bottom line is that Mon and I are not going to jeopardize our friendship by competing over a man. We promised each other that wouldn’t happen.”

Monica was equally noncommittal. “We’re making it harder on you, we know,” she explained, “but this was the best way we could think of to be fair with each other. Please try to understand that.”

And I did, for the most part. Any college campus is a breeding ground for romantic triangles and worse; I’d counseled a lot of students in my day who lost friendships in the name of love or lust. It would be nice to think that we get wiser with age, but not always.

For a while I toyed with the idea of choosing neither. Why risk alienating one when I could stay friends with both, after all? We could hang out on weekends, indulge in a little nonsexual hypno-play now and then, and look for romantic satisfaction elsewhere. It didn’t take me long, though, to realize that was just a cop-out. The longer I tried to delay making a choice, the more built-up sexual tension would come into play. And the nonsexual hypnosis idea wouldn’t fly either – after using hypnosis almost exclusively as foreplay, we were supposed to be content to forget the number six? No, choosing neither would ultimately mean losing both.

Saturday morning came and I still hadn’t had the breakthrough that Ellen seemed to expect of me. Well, I reasoned, if my busman’s holiday had taught me anything it’s that my mind tends to come together under pressure. So with both phone numbers in the cell I got in the car and hopped onto Route 90 East. That met up with 94 and the Dan Ryan and then headed straight for Gary. I now had 25 miles or so to make a decision: get off the highway in Gary to see Claire, or take 65 south to Indianapolis and Monica.

With my conscious mind focused on the road, I turned to the user and the teacher. Well, guys ... which will it be?

Monica embodied class, grace, and responsibility. She was kind and loving and had just a touch of the mischievous underneath that respectable front. She tended to bring out the best in people, I thought. From the teacher’s perspective, Monica could be the ideal woman. No wonder I’d spent a week trying to get into her pants.

Claire, on the other hand, was the user’s favorite. She loved to play and wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted, even to the point of telling a total stranger that yes, she’d quite like him to hypnotize her and screw her brains out. She was a little reckless but fun to be with and awesome in bed. No wonder I’d spent a week actually getting into her pants, even while pining for Monica.

That reminded me of the night with the erotic water bottles. Me staring at Monica while ignoring Claire. Claire, upset close to tears, calling me out on it. “I don’t know why you bother with me,” she’d said. I hadn’t answered her then, but now, in a surprise moment of clarity, I knew.

I took the Clark Street exit into town.

-wg

7/25/07