He rolled his chair up to his desk, woke his laptop in its dock, and signed into the Lush website. He did this several times a day when he wasn’t working, and it was always a source of…well, many things: joy, pain, hurt, friendship, anger…he almost felt like he was back in high school, wanting to be one of the cool kids again.
Yet, lately, he had…well, hooked up was not quite right, but connected with a woman. A very unhappy woman, someone who was at least as lonely as he was.
She said her name was Helen, and about all he knew of her was that she was divorced, thirty-two years old, and said she had red hair. He thought she lived in the Boston area, from some of the things she had said, but then again, she may have gone to college there.
And she was alone, deeply, desperately alone, and unhappy.
He met her when she started commenting on the stories he had written. They were thoughtful comments, insightful – and seemed to see right into his own deeply unhappy soul. Almost as if she knew him, and all that he had been through, even though that was clearly impossible.
Yet, she wouldn’t let herself be open with anyone, and she was almost violently anti-male. Her unhappy marriage and acrimonious divorce had seen to that.
After her divorce, she had moved to a new town, far from where she had lived with her ex, and where she knew no one, then worked hard to make sure no one got close to her. As a result, she was now also desperately lonely. She had no one to talk to, no one she could speak to.
Except him. Through his gentle persistence, and kindness to someone who was clearly suffering, she had very slowly started to open up to him.
And he to her. This…cyber-relationship…had come to mean more to him than almost anything else in his life.
She taught math and science at the high school level and was apparently quite good at her job. But she would go to work, come home, mark papers, do lesson prep, then come onto the website, they would connect and sometimes chat for hours. That was the sum total of her life.
Lately, things had become much steamier, but not because she wanted it that way. She had been reading and commenting on stories, and found that she was experiencing things that she didn’t understand. And although he couldn’t quite remember how it had happened, she had started confiding about these sensations to him.
He found himself repeatedly surprised as the conversation unfolded.
~~~~~
The line of text appeared in the chat window on my screen one day:
”I was in the supermarket earlier and thought about one of the stories that I had just read and really liked. The strangest thing happened.”
“Oh, what was that?”
”First, I felt tingly and damp…down there…and then my hips felt like they wanted to roll, and my muscles clamped tight. I was breathing hard, felt shivery, and…well, unsettled. I had to stop and just hold onto the shopping cart handle for a while until I could breathe properly again.”
I sat back and wondered. That was decidedly odd. I hesitated but felt that I had to ask: “That almost sounds like an orgasm. Did you cum in the supermarket without knowing it?”
There was a long pause, then
”I don’t think so. But I don’t know.”
My eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know? Don’t you know what an orgasm feels like?”
There was another long pause.
”I…I’m not sure.”
I leaned forward, typing furiously, “Why aren’t you sure?”
Again she hesitated before replying.
”As far as the troll was concerned, the only reason to have sex was so he could cum. He didn’t care what happened to me, or what I felt.”
“You were married for…what? Nine years? Do you mean to tell me you never had an orgasm in all that time?”
I waited.
”I’m…so embarrassed. I…I can’t talk about this.”
I took a deep breath. This was almost certainly a turning point in our relationship, so I gambled.
“Helen, please don’t be embarrassed. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s that asshole of an ex-husband. How dare he please himself at your expense! It’s not your fault. Please believe me, Helen, it’s NOT YOUR FAULT!”
After what seemed like forever,
”I need to go.”
“Chat tomorrow?” I typed as quickly as I could – but she was gone.
~~~~~
”I’m so sorry I disappeared on you. Please forgive me.
I exhaled, relieved that she had come back after yesterday’s abrupt departure. I had been afraid that she would disappear and never communicate with me again. “It’s okay, Helen. There’s nothing to forgive. I’m on your side, remember? I only want what’s best for you.”
”Do you really think I might have had an orgasm?”
I blew out my breath. “It sure sounded like it from the way you described it. May I ask some questions?”
”About…that?”
“Yes, about your physical reactions.”
”Oh, okay. I’m just…very embarrassed.”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Helen. You have done nothing wrong.”
I guessed that she was uncertain about whether she wanted to proceed, then:
”Okay, go ahead.”
“Did you have any orgasms before you met the troll?”
”I don’t know.”
I sat back and thought. “Did you have intercourse before you met him?” I was deliberately using formal terms rather than the blunter, more common Anglo-Saxon ones.
”This is so embarrassing. Yes, I did, but…”
I waited for what seemed like forever, then,
”I had sex with a few boys I worked with as a lifeguard”
I leaned forward to type something, but before I could decide what to say, her next line appeared.
”But I didn’t like it!!!”
I sat for a moment. “May I ask why not?”
I could tell she was hesitating, then her response came through:
“Let’s just say they were assholes about the whole situation.”
I waited again.
”…It might have been my fault, I don’t know. Maybe I was trying to be someone I know I am not. Either way, it has stuck with me and…I just cant get past it.”
I was shocked, and not sure what to say, then:
“I’m such a slut. I’m so ashamed.”
I immediately leaned forward. “No, Helen, you are NOT a slut. You were, and are a victim. They were just fast-talking you into having sex. You are NOT a slut, and never have been.”
There was a long silence.
“Helen?”
Silence again, and I was beginning to worry.
”I’m here. I’m sorry. This is…hard for me.”
“I know. But please, believe me, you have done nothing wrong, but the men in your life certainly have. They are at fault, not you.”
”Do you really think so?”
“Yes, absolutely. But what happened to you in the supermarket is a good thing. It means you are taking your own body back, that it is yours again.”
”What do you mean?”
“I mean that you came on your own, and for your own enjoyment. You are reclaiming ownership over your own body. Your reading of erotic stories is awakening your body to its sexual potential.”
”Do you think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
”I…I can’t talk about this anymore tonight. Thank you so much, Marcus. Good night.”
~~~~~
At the usual time the next day, right after she got home, she appeared on my screen.
”Marcus? Are you there?”
“I’m here, Helen.”
”I thought about what you said all of last night. I didn’t sleep much, but I think…I think I owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you.”
I smiled, “Helen you are more than welcome.”
”Would you be willing to help me some more?”
“Of course, Helen, whatever you need.”
”I…I tried to do it myself last night. To orgasm, I mean, and I couldn’t.”
I rocked back in my chair. “And what would you like me to do?”
”Could you help me to…do it?”
I sat there, not knowing what to say.
”Please? I don’t know what to do, and I very much want to do what you said – to take back ownership of my own body.”
“Okay, um…when?”
I could almost hear her uncertainty, hands poised over her keyboard.
”Now?”
I took a deep breath. “Okay.”
I thought for a moment. “Where are you?”
”I’m in my bedroom. I thought…”
“Sure,” I responded, then thought for a moment, “Do you have a big mirror you can use to see yourself?”
”Yes”
“Okay, move the mirror so you can see yourself by your bed, whether you’re standing or sitting.”
”Okay…wait.”
I sat silently.
”Okay. All set.”
“Now, tell me what you’re wearing.”
”I’m wearing a tank top and shorts.”
“Anything else?”
”No.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, then here’s what I want you to do. Can you see yourself in the mirror?”
”Yes”
“Roll your tank top up until it is just below your tits.”
It took some time for her to reply, then:
”Okay. I can see…never mind. Okay.”
“Now, undo the button of your shorts and unzip them halfway.”
”Yes. Done.”
“You’re not wearing panties?”
”Um…No”
I swallowed. “Do you like what you see?”
”I guess”
“Okay, never mind. Are you left-handed, or right-handed?”
“Ambidextrous”
My eyebrows rose. “Okay, then put a palm flat on your stomach, and slide it down until you are at the top of your cunt lips.”
”Oh! Do you have to be so…crude?”
“Yes.”
I held my breath while she decided.
”Oh. Okay, it’s…there.”
“Now, slide your middle finger along the join of your lips, but do not split them open. Slide your finger up and down, lightly brushing your lips.”
”Feels nice. Can I push between them?”
“Not yet. Keep lightly brushing outside your lips.”
”Brushing……please may I push between my lips?”
“Not yet. Take off your tank top and throw it far enough away that you can’t reach it.”
”done”
“Now push your shorts down to your knees and spread your legs wide enough so they keep your shorts from falling further.”
”This is embarrassing.”
“No, you are beautiful. Say it.”
She was silent, then:
”I…am, um beautiful. Thank you”
“Keep rubbing the outside of your cunt lips.”
”Can I put my finger between my lips?”
“Yes, you may split your cunt lips, and run your middle finger between them – but do not touch your clit, okay?”
”I’m wet very wet”
“Yes, you are. You are a wet, sexy woman who wants to cum. Now let your shorts drop to the floor and kick them far across the room”
”Ookay I’ve done that”
“Tell me what you’re wearing now.”
”Nothing. I’m naked.”
“Yes, you are, and you are beautiful.”
No reply.
“I’m not going to help you cum until you say you are beautiful.”
”I…I’m…beautiful.”
“Yes, you are. Now, sit on the bed and spread your legs as wide as you can, then rub your outside hand up and down your pussy lips. Make sure you watch yourself in the mirror.”
”That feels so good. Please my I touch my clit?”
“Not yet. Now, make sure you can see yourself in the mirror, especially your cunt. Then take the middle finger of your hand, and push it gently inside your cunt.”
”ohhhh…I…”
Then silence. I decided to proceed anyway.
“On the roof, or front wall of your cunt, about one or two inches inside, you will find a patch of tissue that is rough, somewhat rumpled. Gently rub your finger back and forth over that area.
”Ohh … my… I…I think…I think I need to touch my clit. Please.”
“No. What you are touching is your G-spot. Keep rubbing it with that finger.”
”Yes okay”
“Now start massaging your pubis, all around, and rub your pussy lips with the hand not inside you. Do not touch your clit.”
”I want to touch my clit.”
“You will, I promise, but not yet.”
”Please…”
“No. Now, take your hand out of your cunt, lean back, and put both hands behind you on the bed then count to 120.”
”Like one, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, a hundred?”
“No, count all the way.”
”No! please. Please don’t make me do that”
“Trust me, please.”
I could almost hear her panting, eager…then:
”Okay”
There was a long silence. I kept a rough track of the time in my head, and right on schedule, she said:
”110…”
“Good girl”
”120! Please let me touch my clit!”
“Now you may touch your clit with the outside hand. Put two fingers inside you with the other hand, and keep rubbing your G-spot, but you are not to cum until I tell you. Understand?”
”Yes I understand. Keep rubbing my clit and G-spot but do not cum.”
“Yes”
”ohhh…please…”
“Soon. I’m going to count backward from five. When I reach zero, you may cum.”
”okay hurry”
Slowly, “Five”
“Four”
“Three”
“Two”
“One”
I counted three hippopotamuses in my head. “Zero! You may cum now!”
”please let me c…oo”
“Helen, do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel as much as you can. Make yourself as comfortable as you can.
“You are a beautiful, sexy, smart, and lovely woman. You own your body, no one else does. You may cum whenever you want, anyway, and anytime you want to.”
I stopped to see if she would say anything, but she was silent. I decided I should just wait. Perhaps she was just enjoying the sensations.
It was frustrating not being able to see or hear her. I had no idea what was going on. Finally, when I couldn’t force myself to wait any longer, I typed, “Are you okay?”
There was another long period of silence, then
”yes lovely, T Y”
I smiled.
”That was…amazing. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you! I’m so tired, but I feel so GOOD!”
I smiled, happy. “Take a nap, but set a timer so you don’t oversleep. Make sure you eat some supper when you wake up, okay?”
”Do I have to?”
“Yes. If you go to sleep now and don’t eat anything, you’ll feel awful tomorrow morning. Understand?”
She was quiet for a time, then:
”Yes, I understand. I will do as you say. And Marcus?”
“Yes, Helen?”
”Thank you.”
I smiled, “You’re welcome, girl.”
There was a final pause, then,
”Marcus?”
“Yes?”
”Could we do that again tonight right before I go to bed? Please?”
