My Best Friend's Boyfriend

Holy hell. They had all those loud schemes plastered everywhere.

It gave me a headache just to walk through, but I pushed on. There was no going back. I’d be out fifty bucks if I didn’t show up, so I might as well see what all the fuss was about. I buried the folder in my purse and covered it up so they didn’t know where I worked. The last thing I wanted them to find out was that the advertising agency they’d hired was sending them clientele.

That wouldn’t go over well with anyone, including my boss.

“May I help you?”

I whipped my head over to a cheery woman sitting behind a bright pink desk. Yikes.

“Um, yes. I have an appointment at three thirty,” I said.

“Ava Leary?” the woman asked after looking at her computer.

“That’s me.”

“Right through that door at the end of the hallway. We’ve been expecting you.”

I turned and faced the door. Oddly enough, the hallway seemed to grow, getting longer and longer the farther I walked. I was sweating and my knees knocked together. I finally got to the door and pushed it open, finding a smiling woman on the other side. She came over and shook my hand, but her voice seemed muffled. Her office was bright, too bright for something like this.

“Miss Leary?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Would you care for something to drink?”

I nodded as I cleared my throat. The kind woman ushered me to a seat in front of her desk before a glass of cucumber water was placed in my hand. I brought it to my lips and chugged, not caring about how I looked. The glass trembled in my hand as I set it against my thigh, then I looked at the woman as she sat back in her desk chair.

“Let me guess. You stumbled upon our services accidentally and you’re here to lose your virginity,” she said.

My jaw dropped.

“Don’t worry, it’s more common than you think. It’s why we’re here,” she said, smiling.

“You mean people come to you all the time to lose their virginity?”

“Mostly men, but yes. That’s how our company got its start, by helping those ready to take the next step in intimacy find someone they are comfortable taking that step with.”

I nodded as I wrapped my hand tightly around the glass.

“Before we get started, I’m Clara Robbins.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Robbins.”

“Now, first and foremost, just because you’ve come to this meeting doesn’t mean you’re locked into anything. Even if you decide to schedule something with us, it’s still and always your choice. If you get to your pre-arranged date and something seems off, or if you’re not ready after all, you’re under no obligation to do anything. We set up the circumstances. You make it happen.”

“Okay. That’s good,” I said. That could be an excellent tagline to use. I committed it to memory for work purposes. “So, what exactly is this meeting for?” I asked.

“To get a feel for you. Your likes, your dislikes. How you want to lose your virginity. We’ll talk about your sexual fantasies and your hobbies. Then we’ll schedule you a date for you to leave here with, and I’ll get to work finding the perfect match to show up and greet you.”

“Wow. Okay.”

Holy shit. This was happening. I was going to plan how to lose my virginity.

“First off, what do you not enjoy?”

“Come again?” I asked.

“Sexually. What don’t you enjoy?”

“I haven’t had sex. How would I know?”

“Do you like being choked?”

“What?” I asked.

“Okay, so you don’t like being choked. What about being tied up?”

“Huh?”

“Peed on?”

My eyes bulged.

“Food play. Do you like food play?”

“I don’t like any of the things you just mentioned.”

“Let’s slow down then. I’m asking you for your kinks, fetishes—what you enjoy when you watch porn.”

“I don’t watch porn.”

“Okay. I’ll note that as well. When you masturbate, what gets you off?”

“Uh—clitoral stimulation?”

“Good. So you like oral.”

“I don’t know if I like oral. I’ve never tried it,” I said.

“Then we’ll put ‘overall clitoral stimulation,’ and that will encompass toys.”

“I do use those.”

“Good! Now we’re getting somewhere.”

She blasted questions at me at lightning speed, and I tried to answer them to the best of my ability. I fed her my hotel room scenario: candles, rose petals, drinks, romance. The works. She typed with fury on her laptop, and I slowly began to sink into the comfort of answering her questions.

We talked about how I enjoyed the movies, how I’d like to experience a real date where a man came to pick me up. But not for the first time, obviously. I’d want to be safe. We outlined a variety of kinks and fetishes I might want to try while wholly avoiding anything that had to do with pain, tying me down, or otherwise inflicting unwanted bodily fluids on my person.

I shivered at the thought.

“Okay. We’ve built your profile with your hard limits, soft limits, questions, and the things you know you want. I’m going to let our computer run the algorithm. Then I’ll personally filter through the men who pop up. You wanted a man, right?”