Tales from the Help Desk - Part 4

Gina moaned as the vibrator inched deeper. She arched her back, pressing her hips into the bed as it found its target. “There. Keep it there.” She was in obvious ecstasy as she rocked gently back and forth on the metal wand before coming to a shuddering climax with a gush that soaked the sheets beneath her.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never done that before.” She seemed both amazed and slightly embarrassed by her body’s response.

“Shhh. Great sex is often a little messy. I’m just glad you enjoyed it.”

“So, now what are we going to do for you?”

“It’s okay. Knowing I got you off is enough.”

“Nonsense,” Gina said, extricating herself from the tangle of limbs and turning around.  She delivered a deep kiss, then took Paige by her hands and eased her to the edge of the bed. “I’ll eat you out like no man ever has.”

I awoke with a start—and some truly spectacular morning wood. So much for the long weekend getting Paige out of my head. Not only was she still rattling around my brain, now my subconscious had also decided to throw my ex-girlfriend Gina in there as well. “Brain,” I thought, “what are you doing to me?”

“Well, Jim,” I responded to myself, “if two tits are wonderful, four are spectacular. If one pussy is amazing . . . “ The logic was unassailable, but doing nothing to diminish my boner. I was just going to have to jerk it in my childhood bedroom to the image of my two most recent lovers going at it with each other. “Happy Thanksgiving to me.”


I kept my phone well-hidden over Thanksgiving weekend. I couldn’t risk a repeat of the Help Desk fiasco from earlier in the week where two of my employees had accidentally seen Paige’s crotch shots. I didn’t want to cause my grandfather to go into cardiac arrest if Paige decided to get personal with a turkey baster.

On Sunday morning I said goodbye to my family and drove back to school a couple of pounds heavier but no closer to figuring out my relationship with Paige. She had behaved herself over the weekend. The couple of of texts she sent were G-rated—just messages saying she missed me, and wishing me a happy holiday. She did want me to drop by her house when I got back to campus, however, so once I had unloaded my stuff back at my apartment, I drove to her place and rang the bell.

I usually ended up letting myself in with the key she had given me because she was already up in the bedroom, naked or nearly so, getting warmed up by videoconferencing with her husband Mark, who was currently on sabbatical in Switzerland. To my surprise, she actually answered the door. Somehow she was sexier in a plain T-shirt and jeans than she was in her expensive lingerie or even wearing nothing at all.

She threw her arms around me and gave me a long, lingering kiss. “I missed you terribly,” she said.

Momentarily flummoxed by our change in routine, I could only respond, “I missed you, too.”

She broke away from me and grabbed my hands, pulling me into the house and toward the dining room. I had been to Paige and Mark’s house numerous times since the start of our arrangement, but on the entry level, I had never been any farther than the foyer. Our interactions always took place upstairs in the bedroom, rigged with multiple cameras, so Mark could get his jollies by watching me fuck his wife.

In the dining room, Paige had set up a buffet of Mexican food from my favorite place, La Casita. Even though I really didn’t need anything else to eat after Thanksgiving and all the leftovers, I had to admit it smelled heavenly. The bright sauces and fresh seafood of Baja California cuisine were the perfect antidote to the heavy beige, beige, and more beige of my mother’s holiday dinner.

“You like?” she asked, hopefully.

“Um-hm. How did you know this was my favorite place?”

“I listen and observe.” She was grinning from ear to ear, and clearly pleased that she had done something to make me happy. She took a piece of tortilla, dipped it in a seafood stew, and fed it to me, saving the last bite for herself. “Mmm. That is good.”

We ate and had a couple of beers, chatting about nothing, before I had to ask, “Paige, thank you. This is delicious, but what are we doing? This isn’t part of the arrangement. This feels almost like . . . a date.”

Paige sighed. “I don’t know Jim. I wanted to apologize again for almost getting you in trouble with the photos, but I guess I also wanted to show you a different side of me . . . the romantic side.”

I put down my beer and went to her. I stroked her cheek. “I know you have a romantic side. It’s why you want me ‘off-camera’ after we’ve given Mark his show. But we can never be together together, if you know what I mean. That’s not how the arrangement works.”

“I know, but you make me feel things I don’t feel when I’m with Mark. What he and I do is fine when I’m feeling naughty, but that’s as deep as it goes.” She wrapped her arms around me. “You certainly enjoy it when we’re getting kinky, but I think you like it better when we’re making love.”

That much was definitely true. Pretending to be a porn star for the cameras absolutely had its moments, but I much preferred our quieter, more personal encounters. Still, this was never going to be a normal, long-term relationship. “However I feel, Paige, the fact remains that I’m a ‘loaner’ til Mark comes home. I’m not yours to keep.” I tried to lighten the tone, but I could see she was upset.

“Hey,” I said, kissing her, “there’s still a long time until Mark comes back. There are going to be plenty more opportunities to do this.” I backed her into the living room, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding the back of her head, fingers laced in the silk scarf she had used as a headband to hold her hair in place. I hadn’t really had a game plan until I felt that scarf, but I knew immediately what we were going to do.

“Do you trust me?” I untied the scarf from her hair, and positioned it over her eyes, like a blindfold, carefully retying it behind her head.

“Of course,” she whispered. “You’ve never given me any reason not to.” The timbre of her voice told me how excited she was becoming at the prospect of ceding some of her control to me.

“Then strip for me,” I said, “but do it slow, so I get to see everything.” I sat down on the couch, making no effort to conceal the sound of unzipping my jeans, so she would know I was stroking myself hard as I watched her. “Start with your shirt.”

She reached down to the hem of her T-shirt and lifted it over her head, taking care not to disturb her blindfold. “Your jeans next,” I said, dipping into the waistband of my underwear and bringing out my cock, which was springing to life watching Paige perform her little striptease.

She hadn’t worn a belt, so it was a simple matter of unfastening her jeans and easing them over her hips and smooth thighs, down her shapely calves and to her ankles, so she could step out of them. She stood in front of me in her plain cotton bra and panties, and my dick stood firmer in my hand. I was seeing Paige as the girl-next-door—the insanely sexy girl-next-door, to be sure—and not the femme fatale she usually presented herself as. I took a moment to appreciate her in a new light.

“Bra,” I said. “Let’s see those tits.” She reached behind her, and her breasts came tumbling out, a sight that never failed to inspire my prick to greater heights. “Touch them,” I commanded. “Make those nipples hard.” She caressed herself, seemingly taking as much delight in doing so as I was feeling watching her. She breathed in deeply when her circling fingers reached her areolae, her nipples rising, puckering the skin around them. I could see her subtly rubbing one thigh against the other.

“Are your panties getting wet?” She nodded.

“Come here and let me feel.” I reached out, took Paige’s hand, and guided her to me.

I stroked her softly through her underwear until I felt them dampen under my fingers. “We can’t have you standing here in soaking panties. Take them off.” My prick was solid and twitching in my hand as I watched her pull them down.

Paige was now naked, and I wanted to throw her on the couch and take her, but I also wanted to keep playing. I helped her lie down in the corner of the sectional and pushed the large ottoman into the corner, creating ample space for her to lie on. Then I backed away again to appreciate the sight of Paige, sexy and vulnerable, unable to see what I would do next.

A vase of fresh flowers sat on an end table, and I removed a rose and held it to Paige’s lips, then traced it slowly across her jawline and onto her neck. She sighed, and I lightly ran my mouth over the route the rose had taken, making sure to not to touch her anywhere else before kissing the hollow of her collarbone. “Turn over,” I breathed in her ear.

She did, and I was reminded again how perfect her ass was. I brought the rose down her back, circling the two sweet dimples just above her firm tush, before guiding the flower softly down the cleft between her cheeks. I went all the way down one leg, tickling the bottoms of her feet, before bringing the rose back up her other leg. “Spread your legs for me.” My hard-on was throbbing. “Show me what I want to see.”

She lay spread as I brushed the flower between her legs and over her own wet petals. “On your knees.”

She did as she was told, and I had an incredible view of Paige’s naked ass and pussy—deep pink and glistening with her arousal, clit swollen and waiting for my tongue. I knelt behind her and began to lick, savoring her taste and the moans my attentions were eliciting from her.

I brought her close, over and over, feeling the blood surge in her clit, backing off each time just before she slipped over the edge. When I felt I had tormented her long enough, I rose from my knees and drove my aching cock into her, causing her to cry out with surprise and relief. I kept my hands on her hips, moving her in the rhythm I wanted, meeting my strokes, until we both climaxed, and I could feel my cum begin to drain from her.

“You always take such good care of me,” she sighed as I removed her blindfold. I lay down beside her, spooning her on the couch. “Spend the night with me, Jim.”

I had never stayed over before. The danger signals clanged in my brain, but she was so soft, so warm, as I held her in my arms that I couldn’t say no.

Shout out to Sanctuary. Since you seem to enjoy my stories, I thought I would add a little something for you. I don’t think Paige and Gina will be getting together anywhere other than Jim’s imagination, though.