Bliss by Opal Carew Page B

She ripped open the cellophane and stared at the silver device. It was small, but she bet it would do the trick.

    Damn, she didn’t have any batteries. She flicked the switch and it purred in her hand. Great. The organizers thought of everything. She tugged off her pajamas and tossed them on the chair, then climbed into bed again. She set the bullet beside her and lay back, then thought of J.M. She closed her eyes and pictured him in bed with her, gliding her fingers over his hard, muscular chest, down his ridged abs, then wrapping around his hard cock. Big and heavy. Thick. She ran one hand over her breast, then toyed with the puckered nipple. Her other hand explored between her legs and slipped inside. She was already wet and ready. She imagined J.M. kissing her lips, then his big masculine body prowling over her. His hot cock, so hard and thick, brushed her slit, then the cockhead pushed against her. She remembered the heat of his body against her. His mouth capturing hers . . . then moving to her breasts and sucking her nipples . . . gliding lower . . . his tongue slipping inside her, then quivering against her clit.

    She grabbed the bullet and pressed it to her wet flesh, then turned it on at a low vibration. It fluttered against her clit and she sucked in a breath. Pleasure rippled through her. As she imagined J.M.’s huge, hard cock slipping inside her, she eased the bullet inside. She thought of his cock impaling her deeply and she tightened her muscles around the device. She turned up the vibration and squirmed at the intense sensations. His cock drove deep as the bullet quivered inside her. She squeezed it and rocked her pelvis.

    It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t big enough . . . didn’t go deep enough. She drew it out and pressed it against her clit. She imagined J.M.’s arms around her, his hard body against hers as his cock drove deep. The little device continued to quiver against her clit. Intense, sharp pleasure spiked through her and she sucked in air. She thought about how J.M. had thrust into her . . . again and again. How pleasure had rocketed through her, building to an incandescent flash of joy.

    She turned the device even higher and an orgasm was wrenched from her. She gasped, then moaned. The device whirred.

    Finally, she collapsed on the bed, spent.

    She’d achieved orgasm, but it was empty at best.

    Damn, but she missed J.M.

    Kara walked through the atrium toward the Iris Ballroom, where Grace’s workshop would be. She peered in the room and saw Grace standing at a table at the front of the room facing about twenty rows of chairs. About a third were already full.

    Grace noticed Kara and waved. Kara stepped toward her.

    “So it looks like you’ll have a good crowd.”

    Grace glanced around. “I think you’re right.”

    “Are you nervous?”

    “A little. Listen, may I ask you a favor?”

    “Uh . . . sure.”

    “I’m going to need someone to come up for a demonstration partway through and . . . I could ask for a volunteer, but I was wondering if you’d do it instead.”

    “You don’t want to take someone from the audience?”

    “Well, I never know if I’m actually going to get anyone to volunteer, and I usually have to cajole people and then they’re nervous and I have to take time to calm them down and . . . no matter what, if you sit in the front row, you can be up here fast and we can keep things moving along. And after people see what’s involved, others will be willing to volunteer later in the session.”

    “Okay, sure.”

    Grace smiled. “Great. Thanks.”

    Kara glanced around at the room, now nearly full, and her stomach quivered. The thought of going up in front of all these people made her nervous.

    “Um . . . what will I have to do during this demonstration?”

    “Oh, I’m just going to ask you a few questions about your romantic relationships.”

    “But—”

    Grace smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll do great. Right now