Your Princess is in Another Castle (22 page)

Cutie Pi
removes her shoes and hops on the bed, lying on her stomach with her legs in the air.  While still wearing socks, she moved into the position unasked, a maneuver which would surely be to the absolute delight of Chris.  Hands under her chin, Cutie Pi stares at me like a dreamy-eyed teenager gazing at her boyfriend as they share a milkshake.  She kicks her legs back and forth slowly, saying nothing. 

I imagine
hearing the footman from Warcraft II saying ‘Awaiting orders!’  But unprepared to give any commands, I sit down on the couch and stare back at Cutie Pi. She is familiar to me, and I realize that she’s an adult film actress I’ve seen before online.

“My nam
e’s Christine Dayspring,” says Cutie Pi after another moment of silence.  “But from the way you’re looking at me I think you already know that.”

“I’
m Erik,” I say.  That’s a fitting name as the woman I’m with is a blonde named Christine and I’m attempting to stay masked.  “And I do recognize you.” 

“Any particular scene you were thinking about upon recognizing me
?”

“T
he one where you’re the teacher came to mind.”

“
Oh, I’ve done several of those.  I’ve been typecast a little bit.  I think it’s because of how nice I look in glasses.”  Christine wears no glasses now, but she’s right, she does look good in them. 

“You were an English teacher in the one I’m t
hinking of.  And you wanted to give your favorite student a reward for getting an A+ on his final exam.” 

“Mm, I like that one
, too.  But I bet you never thought you’d ever be getting a real life lesson from me, did you?”

“No.”

“So why don’t you come over here and we’ll start today’s lesson.”

“How about you
start by getting undressed.”

Christine
bounds up and sits at the edge of the bed.  “Would you like to help me?”

I nod no.
 

“
If you want something done right,” Christine says crossing her legs, “you have to do it yourself.” 

I don’t move
.

“Okay, just watch then.”  Christine
takes off her socks and dangles her feet off the bed, wiggling her toes like Ariel after first exchanging her fin for feet.  She then rises and pulls off her shirt, revealing a white bra underneath.  With a single masterful movement Christine undoes the bra one-handed style and discards it.  Accurately predicting I would find it appealing she then fondles both of her breasts and kisses her nipples.  Her shorts are unzipped and tossed to me.  She then lies on her stomach wearing only a thong and slaps her ass.  Sitting back up Christine then pulls down on her underwear, about to become completely nude.

“No.  Stop. 
Keep it on.  That’s enough for now,” I say.  Christine looks at me puzzled, but even so, she does as asked. 

Christine
can now see that the task at hand will not be easy.  I look at the fireplace across the room.  Should the situation become dire I can always bat Christine away with a makeshift torch as Saint Thomas Aquinas once fought off his temptress.  Upon maintaining his chastity two angels are said to have visited Thomas Aquinas and given him the strength to remain chaste forever.  But as I am not doing so out of religious devotion, if two angels are looking upon me now, one must be rolling his eyes and the other doing a facepalm. 

“
You’re not simply shy, are you,” says Christine.  “You’re a virgin.”  Her tone is matter-of-fact, not accusatory in the slightest.  Christine is a consummate professional, within her I see only a desire to make me happy and therefore no matter what I do, I cannot disappoint her, for she has no expectations.  I’m grateful to her for that. 

“I am,” I say. 
I deliver my line as if I were a Terminator responding to a question in the affirmative, incapable of emoting to the slightest degree. 

“How old are you?”
Christine asks as she shifts to lie on her back, her head hanging off the bed.  She smiles, a lighthearted pose for a lighthearted query. 

“
I’m a child of the eighties.  I was born the summer Conan the Barbarian came out to theatres.” 

“Okay, but
I’m not really up on my barbarians.  But you’re an eighties kid, you say.  Are you testing me because you liked my shirt and you want to see if I have some mad math skills or are you just being difficult?”

“Maybe both.”

Christine laughs, looking particularly cute with her head still dangling off the bed. “Well, if you’re an eighties kid that would put you somewhere between twenty-six and seventeen.  But since they let you in here to play you must be at least eighteen.  But you look older than that.  I’d say you’re somewhere in your mid-twenties.”       

“That’s right.”

“I’m a child of the eighties myself.  So what made you a late bloomer, though?  You’re a cute guy.”

“I’m
just waiting for the right girl to come along.”

“
Ah, and she has a name, doesn’t she?”

“
Yes.  Jessica.”

Christine sits back up.  “
You know, a lot of the men who come here need to talk. They’re looking for a bit of therapy.  And a lot of men in therapy just need to get laid.  So talk to me, sweety.”  She smiles and invites me over by patting the bed. 

I sit
down next to Christine and she snuggles up next to me.  My arm goes around her and I stroke her hair softly. 

“Does Jessica know how you feel?” asks Christine.
    

“No,” I say.
  “I don’t think so.  Every time I tip toe around it by complimenting her or something she just brushes it off.”

“So don’t tip toe around it.”

“But I don’t want her to reject me and have it ruin our friendship.  And she already has a boyfriend/fiancé, even though they break up all the time.” 

“How long have you known her?”

“A little over a year.”  I poke Christine in her navel and she giggles, although I don’t know if she did so because it was expected of her or if she was really tickled.  But I see in her a capacity for honesty, a recognition that I need tenderness from her, and can believe her reaction was genuine.  “May I kiss you down there?” I ask.

“Yes
, you can.”  Christine shuffles to the front of the bed and lies against the headboard.  “My belly button’s an outie.  Do you like innies or outies more?” 

“It doesn’t matter.”  I kiss Christine’s navel.  I don’t know which
kind of navel Jessica has, but I know whichever kind it is she’s unhappy with it, which only makes me want to kiss hers even more.

I lie down
next to Christine and she takes my hand.  “How long have you felt this way about Jessica?” she asks. 

“I’ve been attracted to her since I
first met her.  We started out just being friends because she was already with her boyfriend/fiancé when we met.  I really fell for her though when we were at the movies and during one of the trailers some pop music began playing and Jessica started dancing to it in her chair.  She’s the kind of girl that’d want you to give her a piggyback ride in public.”

Christine smiles and
rubs her nose against mine in a quick Eskimo kiss.  “You’re a sweet guy, you know that?”

“It do
esn’t pay as well as they say.  May I touch your breasts?”

“You sure can.  Give em’ a good feel.
”  Christine gets on top of me and places my hands on her breasts.  “And you don’t have to keep asking for permission to engage in these little trivialities.  Everything’s a go with me as far as normal boy/girl relations are concerned.  But as for your case of nice guy syndrome, being nice isn’t the problem.  It’s that often times niceness goes hand in hand with inaction. I think you should straight up tell Jessica how you feel about her without beating around the bush.”

“But that puts what we have now at risk
.  I don’t want to lose that.”

“Are you lettin
g your love for this girl prevent you from meeting anyone else?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Then I think it’s worth the risk.  But what about before you met Jessica?  What was stopping you from meeting someone then?”

“Talking to you like this is making me feel like I s
hould be lying on a couch while you sit in a chair taking notes.”

“I don’t need to take notes.  I was a waitress for a long time and neve
r wrote anything down then, either.  But if you’d feel more comfortable on the couch with your hands off my boobs then I can get dressed, put on my glasses, and have you call me Dr. Dayspring.”

“
No, that’s alright, I like it this way just fine.  But would you lie down on your stomach for me?”

Christine does as asked. 
“Not to be presumptuous, but there’s some massage oil in one of the drawers next to the bed,” she says resting her chin on her hands.

My oi
led up hands begin massaging Christine’s back and like with Montana Wild, the situation is perfect.  Christine is as naked as I could ever want her to be, and I can enjoy all of her as she is now with no need to proceed any further.

“A massage while I’m on the
clock,” she says.  “I’m glad I gave up waitressing. But go on, you were going to explain to me your situation before you met Jessica.”

“I’m a pretty shy guy,” I say.  “I never really dated that much
in high school.  I met a few girls online and then in person, but things never really went anywhere with them.  Then when I was a senior towards the end of the year I started seeing this girl named Nicole, and we were far enough along that we went to the prom together.  I didn’t really care about going, but she wanted to.  So we went. 

“Then w
hile we were on the dance floor I kissed her and she kissed me back, we’d kissed before and everything.  But then Nicole sees this guy that she’s always liked walk by and then suddenly she pushes me off of her because she doesn’t want him to see her kissing me.  Nicole looked horrified that she did it.  She honestly was upset about it and she apologized and everything, but she still did it.  We broke up not long after that.  And that still remains the single most significant relationship that I’ve had.”

Christine
sits up and embraces me, holds me tight.  Then she places my head in her lap and begins stroking my hair.  “What happened after that?” she asks as if she were a child not satisfied with the ending of her bedtime story.

“Then I went to college, which isn’t really al
l that much different from high school.  I’m a big nerd, so when I’m talking to a girl online and she tells me she has a cat named Heineken or her main profile picture is of her kissing a bottle of vodka I can be reasonably sure there isn’t much of a future for us.  And all the girls who work in the library already have boyfriends.  And then my favorite English professor is a married woman, although you’ve helped me live out that particular fantasy a little.”         

Christine smiles, rubs her
breasts against my face. 

“
I still try sometimes, though,” I say.  “Last year there was a girl who always ate lunch in the cafeteria the same time I did.  She was Japanese.  I figured she was probably from there.  She was always alone.  She’d just sit quietly by herself and read the school newspaper.  It took me several weeks to build up my courage but finally I walked over to where she was sitting and introduced myself.  I asked her her name and where she was from, what she was studying.  I just talked to her for a minute or two and told her that if she’d like to, she was welcome to come over and join me for lunch sometime.

“
But, well, after that day she never came back to the cafeteria again during her regular lunchtime for the rest of the semester.  I drove her away.  My friends said that I shouldn’t take it personally, that it may have just been a cultural thing, but if she were that repulsed by the idea of having to talk to an American boy she could have just stayed home and gone to college somewhere in her own country.  That experience made it pretty hard for me to be able to just walk up to a girl and start talking to her.”

“That’s a pretty extreme reaction no matter
what culture you’re from,” says Christine.  “What she did was all about her.  It didn’t have anything to do with you.”  She reaches over to the dresser and hands me a condom.  “Tear that open,” she says.

“I don’t really get along with these things,” I s
ay as I let the unopened wrapper fall onto the bed.

“It’s the rules, you have to wear one.”

“I’m not ready
for this yet, Christine.”

“I
know.  But we’re not going to have intercourse.  I’m just going to give you a nice, relaxing blowjob.  You’ve watched my scenes before, so you know I’m rather adept at those.”

“I don’t want one of those
, either.”

“You don’t have to stop talking during it.  And thi
s isn’t quid pro quo.  You don’t have to return the favor when I’m finished.”