This is such a bad idea. Oh God, why am I doing this?
I look down at my phone; Google maps says that I'm at the right place, and as I look up at the door I see a placard. "Gemini Hypnotists". Already I can feel my face blushing - my friends paid for this session. Honestly, I've never been to a hypnotist, erotic or otherwise, and even though I'm a 27-year-old woman I've never even dreamed of actually paying for sex. Maybe I should, I mean... it's not like guys are really lining up at my door, not for a long while now. Okay, not that they ever did - hence the appointment. Damnit, Lily, just get in there!
Holding my breath, I push open the door and look inside at the lobby. My exhalation flows slowly past my untinted lips as I take in the soothing dΓ©cor. Deep reds and golds, the scent of incense, candles, and the sounds of trickling water in a small fish tank all meet my senses. I let the door close behind me and adjust the strap of my messenger bag on my shoulder, my phone still clutched in my left hand. If I have to dial 911... no, don't think that way. This place checked out online - lots of good reviews, nice website. The two proprietors even have their pictures up. Just as I recall the images I saw I hear the sound of footsteps at the opposite end of the lobby.
There they are. Both of them. And... they're gorgeous, holy fuck. One of them, who the website calls Jason, is tall and slender, his hair long, straight, and black. It's tied at the nape of his neck with an elastic, the loose collar of his black button-up shirt draping at the very base of his neck and revealing the very top of his hairless chest and sculpted collarbones. His features are Thai or Vietnamese, something southeast Asian and gorgeous. His business partner, who I think is his actual boyfriend, is Aaron according to the website. Aaron's skin is slightly darker than Jason's and his features are Middle Eastern, his hair groomed short and neat. While his partner wears all black, Aaron is wearing all white in the form of a tunic and cloth pants. Both of them are barefoot.
"Hello. You must be Lily Beauvais" says Jason with a smile.
I just nod dumbly, my large, brown eyes drinking in both men. In one of the mirrors on the lobby wall I catch sight of myself - Haitian and still with the bloom of beauty and youth on my features, or so says my mother. I feel tired and down on myself after a shitty breakup a year and a half ago. Since then I've been uninspired in love and every date I've been on has just bored me to tears. The guys are nice enough; I just honestly don't know what I want or need. Even sex is dull.
Aaron smiles and approaches me to shake hands. I switch off my phone and tuck it into my bag, extending my right hand to grip his. It breaks me out of my rumination and I smile, my hand firming up a little in his warm, strong grip as I engage more fully in the moment. "I am. I've never done anything like this before."
I do my best not to let out the moan that's fluttering in my belly as Aaron smiles down at me and caresses my bare forearm with his free hand, leaving every little hair standing up on end. "That's perfectly fine, Lily. We'll take good care of you, and you can stop the process at any time." After a deep breath I look into his dark eyes, smiling a little. "Are you ready to begin?" For a moment I'm wondering if he means that we're all going to do this in the lobby, and my brow knits for a moment before Jason chuckles and gestures to a door he's just opened. Aaron pats my hand but doesn't pull me forward, letting me choose whether to stay where I am or go further. My heart hammers in my chest, but I nod and walk forward with the both of them.
The room I'm led to is furnished in sumptuous colors even more so than the lobby. Black, deep purples, blues and accents in copper. Aaron lights red candles on wall-mounted shelves while Jason hands me a cloth bundle. It slides into my hands, but I'm not looking at either man. All I can look at is the bed in the center of the room, clearly large enough for three people. My cheeks feel hot and I hug the bundle I've just been handed to my chest, for one moment regretting coming here. What if they think I'm boring or frigid? I can't stand the thought of being rejected by two gorgeous men. But then I realize that my friends paid them for this, so the rules are a little different, right? Trying to relax, I let out my breath slowly and look at the bundle in my arms. It's a bathrobe in my size, and I look up at Jason who's waiting patiently at my left.
"There is a bathroom and a shower if you wish to make yourself more comfortable. When you are ready, come back and sit in the center of the bed wearing only the robe." Both he and Aaron continue preparing the room and I walk with as much self-control as I can muster to the bathroom before closing myself inside of it. And once in there I quickly turn on the shower to cover the sound of my shaky breathing. It's not that I'm scared anymore. No. It's odd, but as I stand by the sink I slowly slide my right hand into my jeans and underwear, feeling between my thighs. Oh my God, I'm already wet. How did they do that? I usually take a while to get wet.
I'm so tempted to masturbate there to relax myself, but I decide to wait. Those guys out there, those two delicious men, have been paid to relax me so I might as well let them. The shower is quick, the soap they provide smelling like lavender and the shampoo scented with sandalwood. I already feel much better as I towel myself off and slip into the robe, and after I stuff my shoes and clothes into my bag I heft the strap onto my shoulder and step out of the bathroom and back into the studio feeling like a new and calmer person.
Both Aaron and Jason are bared to the waist, their cloth pants tied with gray ribbon to their calves. And both of them are fit and smooth and perfect, their muscles sliding smoothly beneath their honeyed skin as they set up the last touches to their work space. I set my bag down by the wall and move onto the bed, sitting with my legs crossed upon the black satin sheets. I feel embarrassed as I shyly pluck at my bathrobe to cover as much of my petite frame as I can manage.
Jason stands at the foot of the bed and smiles at me, his long, black hair unbound and hanging over his shoulders. "Very good, Lily. We will begin now."
Aaron's voice chimes in like velvet from my left side, and I turn my head towards him. "We won't force you to do anything you don't wish to. If ever you feel that you are done, ball your hands into fists and curl your toes. Say stop if you wish. Do you understand?"
I nod. Why wouldn't I be able to say stop? Are they going to gag me or something? Aaron slips onto the bed behind me, kneeling with the tips of his knees flanking my hips as his hands slowly massage my shoulders. Oh he's good. Oh... oh yes there, that muscle! I shudder with relief as his hands help to work out my tension, and Jason slips onto the bed in front of me. Through heavy-lidded eyes I gaze up at him as he settles onto his knees as well, his hands bracing on his thighs. Aaron gently drapes my long, straightened hair over my left shoulder, and his fingers slowly slip in beneath the neck of my robe in back, his fingers rubbing on the bare skin between my shoulder blades.
Jason just watches me as my breath catches, and the clutch of my hand at my robe loosens. I can feel the warm terrycloth slipping down my right shoulder but I don't care. Every time Aaron's thumbs slide up in tandem along the nape of my neck I arch my back just a little, my eyes threatening to close. But they can't close all the way, not with the way Jason is gazing at me. His calm, slow breathing is infectious, and soon my own pulse is calm and my respiration is slower and deeper.
"Good, Lily" Jason purrs, his hands lifting to press their palms together at his chest as if in prayer. I look at them rather than his face, and as my body grows more pliant to Aaron's slow massage I watch as Jason's left hand slowly moves towards me, so slowly that I'm not even that it's moving at all. I can't look away, trapped pleasantly into the biological rhythm of Aaron's caresses that have lined up with my heart beats and my breathing. By the time Jason's gentle fingertips press to the spot on my forehead between my eyebrows minutes have gone by. Or hours, I can't tell. But the contact makes my eyes close and it feels electric. His touch forbids my brow from knitting, and all the muscles in my face relax and ease. I can feel my cheeks heating up as the robe slips further down my back, and I wonder from the distance of a comfortable mental detachment why being exposed isn't bothering me.