LOTS Fic: Aversion Therapy
“I think it would be hot if we had a threesome. You know, you and me and another lady.” Richard set his fork down next to his plate and stared directly at Kahlan, waiting for her reaction.
Kahlan was struck absolutely dumb. The two of them had been dating for years. Years. It was hard for her to remember a time before she met Richard. They had met the summer before her first year of college, and had been inseparable ever since. She hadn’t noticed an inkling of dissatisfaction in their sex life in all that time. She prided herself on her perceptiveness; it was the key to her success with patients. Threesome fantasies came hurtling out of left field and hit her right upside the head.
“It would be hot,” Richard insisted. “You and another lady, and then me. Really hot.”
“If you say hot again, I will smack you,” Kahlan dodged the main thrust of the discussion for a moment, trying desperately to mentally regroup. “Why you and me and another girl? What if I think it would be hot to be double teamed by two guys? That Leo guy you work with has amazing arms.”
Richard did not recoil as she had expected - that was surprising. Maybe there was a bit more to Richard’s sexuality than she had originally thought. He had a way about him which made it easy to have low expectations of his intelligence, which was, Kahlan readily admitted, a terrible thing to think about someone you love.
“I brought it up, so me first. Then if you still want to, I’ll talk to Leo.” He smiled encouragingly, picking up his fork again and resuming his meal. Obviously he felt like they had settled on the matter.
But Kahlan didn’t feel like they had, she pushed the issue as if she were talking to one of her clients - a definite no-no in their relationship; rule number one: Kahlan was not allowed to psychoanalyze Richard. “What makes you feel like you need a threesome?”
His fork was halfway to his mouth. It stopped there. “Um, the feeling of my dick getting hard?”
She frowned and he shrugged sheepishly.
*
This was how Kahlan found herself sitting in a louder, brighter bar than she usually frequented, toying with the little straw in her ridiculously overpriced drink staring out across a sea of undulating bodies. She was dressed in a shorter skirt than she preferred, with a cleavage baring white top - the closest thing she had to club wear. “Reconnaissance” Richard had called it; madness more like, but he had been so careful of her feelings, solicitous of her opinions on the whole matter once she had finally agreed that she didn’t have the heart to say it to him. He wanted her to find a woman that she found “hot” for the entire event, so that she didn’t feel “uncomfortable or bored”. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him she had never really thought about finding women attractive, let alone actively gone out and looked to find attractive women.
She finished off the drink in a long pull through the tiny straw and set it down on the bar. A quick nod at the bartender brought another one; she was glad everything was on Richard’s tab tonight.
She had a plan, though, to get through this ridiculousness. Sometimes her friends talked about getting drunk and making out with other girls. She always considered it a desperately juvenile way of seeking attention from men, but if she got drunk enough, maybe it would make the whole thing a bit easier.
Another rum and coke. Then another. Damn, she was beginning to fell loose. The plan was sort of working; the harder she concentrated on finding ladies sexy, the easier it was becoming. The mass of bodies was full of attractive individuals! But no Richard in sight - a problem because now she wanted to dance.
Another rum and coke. The bartender had started to give her curious looks. Fuck it, she would dance by herself if Richard was never coming back.
She slammed her glass overly hard onto the bar top and pushed out of her stool. The ground tilted a little, but no trouble since Kahlan was quite athletic, if she did say so herself. There was no obvious path through all the dancing bodies, so she made one, sloppily, until she arrived at the very center. She couldn’t see the edges, the bar, the dj’s booth - only the shadows and curves of other people as they moved to the thumping bass.
The liquor made it easier to let her mind go and send her hips swaying. In college, Kahlan had frequented the rowdy nightlife that surrounded campus. Richard had enjoyed the opportunity to get into barfights for her honor, and she had enjoyed relieving the stress of intense coursework by dancing. Respectability had crept up on her in the last few years; she had her own practice now where she worked late nights and weekends more than she ought, so it had been some time since she had gone dancing. Time had not diminished her skill, however, if the attention she was garnering was any indication. She ignored it - she was supposed to be finding someone, someone wasn’t supposed to be finding her.
But then, someone did. A possessive hand pressed against the small of her back, inexorably turning her until she was dancing face to face with a shorter woman. Yup, Kahlan thought, the alcohol was really working because that woman was very, very hot. Her new dance partner pulled her closer until their hips fit together, and Kahlan found herself grinding against a blonde woman in tight red leather vest, and jeans that looked like they had been painted on.
They stayed locked together, hips and thighs grinding together, throughout the song. Kahlan snaked her arms around the other woman’s neck, letting their breasts brush together. Every bit of contact sent sparks flying out along ever one of her nerve endings. As the beat changed, melting into a new song, the blond woman leaned in, breath against Kahlan’s neck and whispered, “There’s a creepy guy behind you, staring.”
Reluctantly, Kahlan glanced over her shoulder. “That’s not a creepy guy. That’s my boyfriend.” She turned back, resuming her dancing, but her companion did not. She removed her hands from all over Kahlan’s body and stepped back with a growl.
“Oh. I didn’t mean to cut in.”
Before Kahlan could protest, she was lost in the crowd, retreating back toward the bar.
As the woman disappeared, Richard stepped up behind her. She could feel his erection through his pants. She spun on her heels. “Richard, you fucking perv. You just scared her off, staring like a creepy old man!”
She had to be drunk; she couldn’t remember ever having used language like that audibly with Richard. She had thought them at him a couple of times. Her open palm connected with his shoulder as he began to laugh. “Go after her then! She was hot!” He gave her a gentle push, which sent her drunkenly reeling into the crowd in the direction her mysterious dance partner had gone.
The woman wasn’t at the bar, but some sense in Kahlan made her confident that she hadn’t left yet. A drink would fortify her, however, so she stopped to knock back a shot. The lights in the club became brighter. The sexy stranger wasn’t visible on the dance floor, and she wasn’t at the bar. Unless she had slipped into one of the VIP lounges, the only other place she could be was the bathroom.
At this time of night, the line at the ladies room was short and the place had seen cleaner times. In the stall at the end of the row, someone was vomiting, but standing in front of the smudged mirror adjusting her blood red lipstick was Kahlan’s stranger - swiftly becoming her new obsession.
They made eye contact in the mirror. Her stranger had a gaze that if Kahlan were less drunk she probably would have considered too intense, but just now in her pleasurable alcohol haze it was incredibly arousing. Without breaking the contact, her stranger turned on the hot water tap and began to wash her hands slowly; an action which only served to draw Kahlan’s attention downward past the ample swell of her partially exposed breasts to her strong fingers under the rush of water, before her eyes were drawn back up to lock with her stranger’s again.
“So what is your game? He get off on watching you make out with girls, and then the two of you fuck in the car?” The stranger had a purring kind of voice, nearly obscene with sexual promise.
Kahlan blinked at the explicitness of her question.
“No,” she stammered, “he - uh, that is we-are looking, sort of scouting maybe? - a third?” Her voice rose at the end, turning it from a statement into a painfully awkward question.
“How disappointingly banal.” The stranger turned off the water, and leaned to the side to grab a paper towel - still watching Kahlan in the mirror. “I only do that sort of thing for free when I get to make the rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“What’s your name?” The stranger asked the question as she turned, eyeing Kahlan up and now in person now rather than in the mirror. She was smirking - hopefully, Kahlan thought, she liked what she saw.
“Kahlan.”
“Well, you can call me Mistress Cara.”
Kahlan was struck absolutely dumb. The two of them had been dating for years. Years. It was hard for her to remember a time before she met Richard. They had met the summer before her first year of college, and had been inseparable ever since. She hadn’t noticed an inkling of dissatisfaction in their sex life in all that time. She prided herself on her perceptiveness; it was the key to her success with patients. Threesome fantasies came hurtling out of left field and hit her right upside the head.
“It would be hot,” Richard insisted. “You and another lady, and then me. Really hot.”
“If you say hot again, I will smack you,” Kahlan dodged the main thrust of the discussion for a moment, trying desperately to mentally regroup. “Why you and me and another girl? What if I think it would be hot to be double teamed by two guys? That Leo guy you work with has amazing arms.”
Richard did not recoil as she had expected - that was surprising. Maybe there was a bit more to Richard’s sexuality than she had originally thought. He had a way about him which made it easy to have low expectations of his intelligence, which was, Kahlan readily admitted, a terrible thing to think about someone you love.
“I brought it up, so me first. Then if you still want to, I’ll talk to Leo.” He smiled encouragingly, picking up his fork again and resuming his meal. Obviously he felt like they had settled on the matter.
But Kahlan didn’t feel like they had, she pushed the issue as if she were talking to one of her clients - a definite no-no in their relationship; rule number one: Kahlan was not allowed to psychoanalyze Richard. “What makes you feel like you need a threesome?”
His fork was halfway to his mouth. It stopped there. “Um, the feeling of my dick getting hard?”
She frowned and he shrugged sheepishly.
*
This was how Kahlan found herself sitting in a louder, brighter bar than she usually frequented, toying with the little straw in her ridiculously overpriced drink staring out across a sea of undulating bodies. She was dressed in a shorter skirt than she preferred, with a cleavage baring white top - the closest thing she had to club wear. “Reconnaissance” Richard had called it; madness more like, but he had been so careful of her feelings, solicitous of her opinions on the whole matter once she had finally agreed that she didn’t have the heart to say it to him. He wanted her to find a woman that she found “hot” for the entire event, so that she didn’t feel “uncomfortable or bored”. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him she had never really thought about finding women attractive, let alone actively gone out and looked to find attractive women.
She finished off the drink in a long pull through the tiny straw and set it down on the bar. A quick nod at the bartender brought another one; she was glad everything was on Richard’s tab tonight.
She had a plan, though, to get through this ridiculousness. Sometimes her friends talked about getting drunk and making out with other girls. She always considered it a desperately juvenile way of seeking attention from men, but if she got drunk enough, maybe it would make the whole thing a bit easier.
Another rum and coke. Then another. Damn, she was beginning to fell loose. The plan was sort of working; the harder she concentrated on finding ladies sexy, the easier it was becoming. The mass of bodies was full of attractive individuals! But no Richard in sight - a problem because now she wanted to dance.
Another rum and coke. The bartender had started to give her curious looks. Fuck it, she would dance by herself if Richard was never coming back.
She slammed her glass overly hard onto the bar top and pushed out of her stool. The ground tilted a little, but no trouble since Kahlan was quite athletic, if she did say so herself. There was no obvious path through all the dancing bodies, so she made one, sloppily, until she arrived at the very center. She couldn’t see the edges, the bar, the dj’s booth - only the shadows and curves of other people as they moved to the thumping bass.
The liquor made it easier to let her mind go and send her hips swaying. In college, Kahlan had frequented the rowdy nightlife that surrounded campus. Richard had enjoyed the opportunity to get into barfights for her honor, and she had enjoyed relieving the stress of intense coursework by dancing. Respectability had crept up on her in the last few years; she had her own practice now where she worked late nights and weekends more than she ought, so it had been some time since she had gone dancing. Time had not diminished her skill, however, if the attention she was garnering was any indication. She ignored it - she was supposed to be finding someone, someone wasn’t supposed to be finding her.
But then, someone did. A possessive hand pressed against the small of her back, inexorably turning her until she was dancing face to face with a shorter woman. Yup, Kahlan thought, the alcohol was really working because that woman was very, very hot. Her new dance partner pulled her closer until their hips fit together, and Kahlan found herself grinding against a blonde woman in tight red leather vest, and jeans that looked like they had been painted on.
They stayed locked together, hips and thighs grinding together, throughout the song. Kahlan snaked her arms around the other woman’s neck, letting their breasts brush together. Every bit of contact sent sparks flying out along ever one of her nerve endings. As the beat changed, melting into a new song, the blond woman leaned in, breath against Kahlan’s neck and whispered, “There’s a creepy guy behind you, staring.”
Reluctantly, Kahlan glanced over her shoulder. “That’s not a creepy guy. That’s my boyfriend.” She turned back, resuming her dancing, but her companion did not. She removed her hands from all over Kahlan’s body and stepped back with a growl.
“Oh. I didn’t mean to cut in.”
Before Kahlan could protest, she was lost in the crowd, retreating back toward the bar.
As the woman disappeared, Richard stepped up behind her. She could feel his erection through his pants. She spun on her heels. “Richard, you fucking perv. You just scared her off, staring like a creepy old man!”
She had to be drunk; she couldn’t remember ever having used language like that audibly with Richard. She had thought them at him a couple of times. Her open palm connected with his shoulder as he began to laugh. “Go after her then! She was hot!” He gave her a gentle push, which sent her drunkenly reeling into the crowd in the direction her mysterious dance partner had gone.
The woman wasn’t at the bar, but some sense in Kahlan made her confident that she hadn’t left yet. A drink would fortify her, however, so she stopped to knock back a shot. The lights in the club became brighter. The sexy stranger wasn’t visible on the dance floor, and she wasn’t at the bar. Unless she had slipped into one of the VIP lounges, the only other place she could be was the bathroom.
At this time of night, the line at the ladies room was short and the place had seen cleaner times. In the stall at the end of the row, someone was vomiting, but standing in front of the smudged mirror adjusting her blood red lipstick was Kahlan’s stranger - swiftly becoming her new obsession.
They made eye contact in the mirror. Her stranger had a gaze that if Kahlan were less drunk she probably would have considered too intense, but just now in her pleasurable alcohol haze it was incredibly arousing. Without breaking the contact, her stranger turned on the hot water tap and began to wash her hands slowly; an action which only served to draw Kahlan’s attention downward past the ample swell of her partially exposed breasts to her strong fingers under the rush of water, before her eyes were drawn back up to lock with her stranger’s again.
“So what is your game? He get off on watching you make out with girls, and then the two of you fuck in the car?” The stranger had a purring kind of voice, nearly obscene with sexual promise.
Kahlan blinked at the explicitness of her question.
“No,” she stammered, “he - uh, that is we-are looking, sort of scouting maybe? - a third?” Her voice rose at the end, turning it from a statement into a painfully awkward question.
“How disappointingly banal.” The stranger turned off the water, and leaned to the side to grab a paper towel - still watching Kahlan in the mirror. “I only do that sort of thing for free when I get to make the rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“What’s your name?” The stranger asked the question as she turned, eyeing Kahlan up and now in person now rather than in the mirror. She was smirking - hopefully, Kahlan thought, she liked what she saw.
“Kahlan.”
“Well, you can call me Mistress Cara.”