The hem of my skirt reaches my shins, and I can't reach it gracefully.
Without saying anything, Gabe places his gloved hands on my exposed calves. My heart leaps at his touch. I take a deep breath to try to calm myself.
His hands glide up my legs, pushing my skirt higher as they go. The pressure is gentle but firm, and leaves a trail of tingles in its wake.
His eyes follow his hands as they travel up my legs. The hem of my skirt flips over my knees. Inch by inch, my thighs are exposed.
The skirt hem reaches the tops of my thighs, and I'm sure he can see everything from where he's sitting.
"Slide your ass down a bit," he says.
I do as Gabe instructs, and the motion causes my knees to lift. He nudges my legs further apart, and I feel like I'm about to have an examination from the baddest doctor ever.
Gabe flicks his eyes up to mine, and for a moment we simply stare into each other. When the intensity of his gaze becomes too much, I chew on my bottom lip.
He gives my thighs a squeeze and lets go. Breaking our eye contact, he angles his head down and pushes the hem of my skirt up around my waist.
Leaning my head back into the chair, I look up at the ceiling and pretend I'm elsewhere. I want to think about reading a book on a beach. Instead, all I can think of is the feel of Gabe's hands on my thighs.
Taking a deep breath, I wait for him to touch me again.
"Nice," he says, though it seems he's talking to himself and not to me.
His fingers make contact with my lips, and a thousand volts of electricity blast through me. My breath grows heavy.
This is ridiculous. I have to calm myself. Gabe's being a professional, and I need to be as well. It's absurd that my body is reacting this way.
Gabe gently pokes at me. His index finger runs up between my lips until he reaches the skin around my clit. With two fingers, he pulls back my hood, exposing my clit.
As he touches it, my walls flood and I inwardly thank him for putting down the towel. I tell myself this is a normal reaction, and it must happen every time he does this.
"So a vertical piercing would sit this way over your clit," he says, tracing a vertical line with his finger. "And a horizontal like this."
Unexpectedly, a deep moan escapes my throat, and I immediately blaze scarlet from head to toe. Other than my redness, I struggle to care about anything other than Gabe's fingers.
"Eloise," Gabe says, his voice sharp, and I realize he's been talking to me.
"Yeah?" I say, my voice far too breathy to retain any dignity.
"Good news, it looks like you should be able to get the triangle piercing, but I'm going to make sure. Are you ready?"
I nod.
With his thumb and index finger, he pinches the skin underneath my clit.
"The triangle sits behind the clit, at its base. The piercing will rub up against it from behind, like this." Gabe rubs his fingers together, simulating where the piercing would rub.
I clench my teeth together to stop from crying out. No one has ever touched me like that. I can't believe how good it feels.
Why did my ex-boyfriend, Chet, only ever rub me like a genie's lantern?
"You have the right anatomy. You could get all three, but you probably want to start with one. For your goal of sexual stimulation, the triangle's the one you want," he says, still holding the spot between his fingers.
I look down at the heavily tattooed man with pierced nipples. Ordinarily I would never let anyone like him touch me. Right now all I want to do is sit in his chair forever.
"Well?" he asks.
"Well what?"
A silence falls between us. He keeps moving his fingers, and my entire body hums and buzzes. My breathing is quick, and I've given up caring that I'm the color of a tomato.
After a few moments, Gabe says, "I'm not sure a piercing is what you need."
Gabe
My dick is rock hard and hurts like a bitch in my jeans. I lean forward so she doesn't notice.
The way Eloise is squirming under my touch makes it pretty clear that she doesn't need a piercing to have an orgasm.
"What do you mean?" she asks. Her voice is a breathy gasp.
"I mean that I don't think physical stimulation is your problem here."
Eloise says nothing, and I keep my fingers where they are. I'd love to make her come right now, but not if she doesn't want me to.
"Why do you say that?"
With my free hand, I lift up the edge of the towel and wipe some of the dripping wet from her pussy.
"It didn't take much to make it all wet down here."
"Doesn't that happen to everyone?"
I look up at her and smirk. "Not usually."
She's already the brightest red I've ever seen anyone but I swear she just went redder.
"Oh God, how embarrassing."
I would definitely like to hear her say oh God a few more times, right before she screams my name.
Holding her eyes in mine, I say, "I can show you right here."
"Huh?"
"I can get you off right now if you want."
Eloise straightens her body, though I still haven't let go.
"What happened to being professional?"
With a slight shrug, I say, "I'd just be doing a favor for an old friend."
She shuts her eyes, breaking our gaze. Without opening them, she says, "I don't know what you mean."
"Didn't Mrs. Singleton always tell us to help our friends whenever we could?"
Once again I start squeezing and rolling my fingertips. My face is a mere foot from her pussy and it takes all my self-control not to have one sweet taste.
Her eyes shoot open, and she studies me, searching her memory.
"Mrs. Singleton? What do you mean?"
"You don't remember me? I'm hurt," I say, teasing her.
"Did we go to school together? What did you say your name was?"
"Gabe."
She thinks for a moment, and says, "Gabriel Irwin?"
"You got it."
A huge smile spreads across her face, and she says, "You used to sit behind me in seventh grade."
"Yep, in Mrs. Singleton's class."
"I thought you moved away," she says, her brow furrowed.
"I did and then I moved back."
"Well, this is awkward."
"Why? It shouldn't be," I say.
"I've got a strange man's fingers between my legs, and it turns out I went to grade school with him. Not awkward at all," she says sarcastically.
"I always wondered what became of you."
"I'm a physiotherapist. I work at my parents' practice. Did you know they're doctors?"
The mention of them wrenches my gut. "Yeah, I knew."
"You used to get in trouble all the time because all you did was draw."
The memories of Mrs. Singleton telling me I'd never amount to anything if I didn't work on my English come flooding back and I laugh. All that drawing is what made me a success in the tattoo industry.
"Good thing I never listened to her."
"One time you drew me a picture of an elephant. I taped it to the inside of my science binder and it stayed there all year. I even transferred it to my eighth grade science binder."
I remember drawing that for her. I was too nervous to ask her to be my little girlfriend and I came up with a plan that I would draw her a picture she loved so much that she would automatically say I was her boyfriend. She took the picture but she never called me her boyfriend.
"You kept that after I left?"
"It was a good picture," Eloise says, and smiles.
"I can draw you another picture if you like, and put it right here on your thigh," I say, rubbing her upper thigh with my free hand.
"I already told you I don't want a tattoo."
"Do you still want the piercing?"
As much as I'd love to pierce this pussy, I want to make her come and I want all the credit for it. I don't want her thinking it was because of the piercing. I need her to know it was all me, and have her begging me for more.
"Do you think it would help me?"
"I'm sure it would feel good, but I think your problem is you're dating the wrong guys. You need someone who knows what they're doing."
She bursts out laughing, and says, "And let me guess, you know what you're doing."
Without saying anything, I start rolling my fingers again. Eloise swallows, and looks up at the ceiling. She's not gonna stop me if I carry on now. She's probably never felt this good before.
Her breathing quickens, and I realize she's gonna let me do this. But suddenly I don't know if I want to. I want to do it right with her, I want to feel her bare skin against mine. Not this latex glove bullshit.
I want her writhing underneath me.
Plus if I pierce her now, I won't be able to taste her until she's healed. Fuck dental dams.
"How about I buy you dinner first?"
Eloise shifts her eyes from the ceiling to me. "Dinner?"
"It'd just be two old friends having dinner. Followed by getting your mind blown."
She doesn't react, and it's impossible to read her face.
"What about my piercing?"
"I want to make sure you're serious and that you've had time to think it over, especially since it will affect your sex life for the next six months."
"Why do you care so much all of a sudden?"
"Since I realized your problem may not be what you think it is. And that the piercing wouldn't actually solve it."
"So what's my problem then? That I've never been with a man who knew what he was doing?"
"That too, but that doesn't explain your solo problems."
"So what is my problem then? In your clearly expert medical opinion."