Smitten

Keane looks over at Maddy. “This is a huge opportunity for her.”

I bat his forearm. “She’ll be great. If anyone can pull a rabbit out of a hat, it’s Maddy Behind the Camera. That woman is amazing at what she does.”

“Yes, she is. She never ceases to amaze me.” Keane leans back into his chair and sips his coffee. “So, why the two triples in rapid succession this morning, brah? Did you and the little missus stay up until sunrise, by any chance?”

I glance furtively across the coffeehouse, making sure nobody could possibly overhear our conversation. “We had a special night. I’ll leave it at that.”

Keane smiles. “Did any of the advice you got from Kat, or any of us dudes, turn out to be useful to you, I hope?”

In a flash, I see Alessandra’s face last night, at the exact moment she had that amazing orgasm against my fingers, and I can’t help smiling like a Cheshire cat. I’d watched the videos Alessandra tagged for me, at least a hundred times each, determined to do it exactly right for her. And by the way she came—so hard I felt the tiniest amount of fluid release inside her, against my fingers—I knew I’d hit a grand slam home run for her.

“Attaboy,” Keane says, apparently reacting to my smile.

“I’ve confirmed nothing,” I say flatly. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“When he asked for advice from his friends on making his woman’s first time ‘special and magical,’ he sure as shit does,” Keane retorts.

But I ignore him and drink my coffee.

For a while, we sit quietly together, watching the highly entertaining swirl of activity around us. We watch the crew setting up cameras and lights. And Maddy and Reed conferring with one of the camera operators and Owen, while plotting things out on a whiteboard.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Keane says, “So, I take it from that smile you didn’t turn into the Flash on her?”

I don’t know what I’m doing with my face. Indeed, I’m trying my damnedest to look neutral. Impassive. Totally blank. But whatever Keane the Peen sees on my face provokes him to throw up his hands and whisper-shout, “Noooo!” He leans forward. “I told you to beat off beforehand, ya dumbshit!”

I glance across the coffeehouse and lean forward. “When was I supposed to do that, ya dumbshit? Ally and I came straight from the concert to the restaurant to Times Square to the hotel!”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, my son. You could have done it in the restaurant.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. Whatever you do tonight, you have to last for her. Round Two is when you take her off the bunny slopes and show the girl how fun skiing can really be. Don’t let her down, dude. Tonight’s where the real memories get made.”

My stomach clenches. “Stop talking. You’re giving me performance anxiety.”

“No need for that. Just make sure you beat off a few hours beforehand this time and study up on some of my earliest BPH videos. And, voila, you’ll be a sex god tonight. I promise.”

I glance across the room. “I can’t beat off beforehand tonight, dumbass, any more than I could have done it last night. We’re gonna be here all day long, and then at the late-night dinner Reed is hosting as a wrap party.”

Keane brings his coffee to his lips, like he’s the Queen of England sipping tea. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, my handsome and happy lad.”

I sigh and lean back.

And for a long moment we’re quiet again. Watching the swirl of activity around us.

I look at him. “Tell me the God’s truth, Peenie. Does The Sure Thing really work the way you guys always say it does?”

“Like clockwork.”

“You can get any woman off, multiple times a sesh that way?”

“Any woman. Best orgasms of her life. One after another, until she’s speaking in tongues. Usually, you’ll get some tears out of her, too. Maybe even make her squirt. But I guarantee, no matter who she is, you’ll get at least two out of her, and they’ll be full-bodied Os like nothing she’s ever experienced before with a clitoral O.”

Well, that shuts me up.

I finish off my coffee, my mind reeling.

I haven’t tried the technique too many times. But when I have, it’s seemed completely useless to me. Like a whole lotta bullshit.

“The thing is,” Keane says, “you have to do it exactly like I explain it in the video. Don’t do a single thing differently than I say. Not one single modification.”

I pull a face of disdain. “The dirty talk isn’t really me.”

“I knew it!” he booms, slamming his palms on the table.

“Shhh! Peenie. Jesus.”

He leans forward, his blue eyes blazing. “The dirty talk is critical. It’s how you keep her mind in the moment, so she doesn’t start thinking about her grocery list, or whatever shit she’s got to do tomorrow at work . . . It’s the only way to keep her focused. Without the dirty talk to go along with the fingering technique, most women can’t get there. Maybe one in ten will get there without the dirty talk.”