The Revelation (6 page)

Why? Because I want him. I want him
bad
. And
in my experience, there’s no weapon more lethal in a woman’s
arsenal than giving a man the best blowjob of his life. If she can
do this, she can have anything or anyone she desires. Harsh,
perhaps, to state the fact so starkly. But true nonetheless.

I begin licking and sucking on Josh’s shaft, and he
immediately makes it clear he’s an ardent fan of my work. But I’m
just getting started. Because a blowjob worthy of being called a
Katherine Morgan Ultimate Blowjob Experience can’t be good. It
can’t even be great. No, a blowjob worthy of this lofty title must
be nothing short of mind-blowing.

Of course, every mind-blowing blowjob starts at its
inception with a can-do attitude—a girl’s
really
gotta want
to suck that dick—or else she truly shouldn’t even bother.

To get myself in the right frame of mind to deliver
oral epicness, I engage in a little
role-play,
if you will,
a little mental trick that turns me on and inspires me to reach for
greatness every time: I simply imagine I’m a high-priced call girl
who charges a million bucks per blowjob and my only mission is to
make my client say, “You’re worth every fucking penny, baby.” Oh
man, it gets me going every time. (And if I’m turned on, I’m
motivated to turn
him
on, too.)

But while a good attitude is an essential ingredient
to giving a man the most intense oral experience of his life, it
can only take a girl so far if she doesn’t also have fantastic
technique.

Through trial and tribulation, I’ve surmised that
the most effective oral techniques ascend a “ladder of pleasure,”
if you will, that goes a little something like this:

Rung One. If a girl aims to give a man at least a
pleasurable
blowjob (which should be a baseline goal, or
else why is she putting a cock into her mouth, for crying out
loud?), then she’s gotta lick and suck that guy’s dick like she’s
got heatstroke and it’s a popsicle on a summer day.

Rung Two. If a girl wants to give a man a
pleasurable and highly memorable blowjob (which, again, should be
every girl’s goal—because sucking a man’s dick and then being
forgotten is definitely not something to aspire to in life), then
she’s gotta lick and suck that man’s dick
plus
his balls
and
she’s gotta do it all like she’s been bitten by a
rattlesnake and his dick and balls contain the antidote to the
venom.

Based on conversations with friends and articles
I’ve read in
Cosmo,
I’d venture to guess that’s where most
girls stop climbing the ladder of pleasure—at Rung Two.

But I’m not most girls. In fact, I’m exactly what
Josh accused me of being: I’m a frickin’ terrorist. If I’m gonna
give head, then by God, I’m gonna make the owner of that dick and
balls fall head over heels in love with me.

Which brings me to Rung Three. At rung three, a
girl’s gotta do all of the above,
plus
fondle every freakin’
inch of his jewels and back forty and taint, including massaging
his asshole (and fingering it if he seems into it);
plus
she’s gotta grip his shaft like it’s a life preserver and she’s a
woman-overboard in stormy seas. But she can’t stop there. Hell no.
She’s also gotta suck on his tip like it’s liquid chocolate. Take
his balls into her mouth while pumping his shaft and swirling her
tongue on his tip and licking and sucking his little hole like
she’s high on meth and she thinks that hole is spurting more
juice.

I’ve just reached the third rung of the ladder on
Josh.

He moans like a dying buffalo.

Clearly, he’s thoroughly enjoying his Katherine
Morgan Ultimate Blowjob Experience.

And, holy hell, so am I. Oh my, yes.
So am I
.
In fact, I’m getting off on doing this for Josh almost as much as
if he were doing the same for me between my legs. This is new. I’ve
never felt quite this turned on before while giving head. Oh my
God. I think I’m gonna come.

Oh my hell. I think it’s time to identify a fourth
rung on the ladder of pleasure: doing all of the above things in a
hot, steamy shower with the sexiest man alive, Joshua William
Faraday.

Josh releases into my mouth with a grizzly bear
growl and I’m surprised to realize I’m coming too, right along with
him. Wow, that’s a first. A truly delectable first.

When I’m done, and Josh’s hard-on has stopped
jerking and rippling in my mouth, I stand up and get a long
mouthful of hot water from the showerhead, loosen my jaw, and turn
back to him.

His eyes are on fire. He kisses me greedily, shaking
with an aftershock. “Oh my God, Kat. That was...
Thank you
.”
He kisses my nipple and begins to kneel, obviously intending to
return the favor.

“Hang on,” I say, touching his shoulder. “I’m
good.”

He looks up at me, surprised.

“We’ve got to get downstairs to meet Henn,” I
say.

“But I wanna get you off, too,” he says, grinning.
“It’s only fair.”

“Oh, I came. Like a freight train. While I was
swallowing.”

His face ignites. “Are you serious?”

I smile and nod.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing.” He straightens up.
“You’re a unicorn, Kat. You’re... oh my God.” He’s in a frenzy.
“What planet are you from? You’re amazing.”

“Hey, I’ll certainly take a rain check, though,” I
say. “When we have more time, maybe you can try to beat me at my
own game.” I wink. “A little competition never hurt anyone.”

He smiles lasciviously. “Oh, Party Girl. You’re on.
I look forward to it.”

Kat

Josh turns off the water and we step out of the
shower together.

“So what’s the second half of the story of your fish
tattoo?” I ask.

He hands me a towel and I begin drying myself.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got distracted.
Again.
”
He laughs and towels himself off. “You seem to have that effect on
me.” He takes a deep breath. “The tattoo represents something my
mom always used to say to Jonas and me.” He grabs his pants off the
floor of the bathroom and begins dressing. “I don’t actually have a
ton of coherent memories about my mom—we were pretty little when
she died—but one thing I remember really clearly is she always
called Jonas and me her ‘little fishies’—because, you know, we’re
Pisces.” He flashes me a huge smile. “My dad said she loved
astrology. Just like you.”

My heart leaps. “Oh, cool,” I say, but on the
inside, I’m kind of freaking out to share this similarity with his
mother.

“Yeah, so my mom always said, ‘Everybody’s a genius,
but if you judge a fishy by its ability to climb a tree, it’ll live
its whole life believing it’s stupid.’”

“Ah,” I say, scrutinizing his tattoo. “That’s a
pretty wise and powerful thing to say.”

“She didn’t make it up—I looked it up—it’s a quote
from Einstein. But she loved it and said it all the time.”

“So your fishy is swimming along happily in the
river, rather than climbing the nearby tree?”

“Wouldn’t want the poor guy spending his whole life
believing he’s stupid.”

“Of course not, especially since he’s wise and
powerful.”

Josh finishes buckling his belt. “So tell me
something, PG. Another round of the honesty-game.”

“Sure.”

“Did a little piece of you get turned on when Henn
saw us fucking?”

“What?” I blurt, utterly appalled. “Of course not. I
was absolutely mortified.”

Josh silently buttons his shirt.

“Why?” I ask. “Were
you
turned on?” I zip up
my miniskirt and reach for my shirt.

“No. Not at all.” He finishes buttoning his shirt.
“I was just curious, based on something you wrote in your
application.”

“Josh, it was
Henn,”
I say. “I’m gonna have
horrible nightmares about him stumbling upon us ’til the day I
die
.
”

We’re both fully dressed. Josh grabs my hand and
leads me out of the bathroom, toward the main room of the suite.
“Yeah, I know. Me, too. But...” he begins tentatively. “Does the
idea of
someone
watching you turn you on? Someone who’s not
Henn?”

My pulse has begun pounding in my ears. “Like,
who
?”

“I dunno. When you had your little lesbo-encounter
in college wasn’t the other girl’s boyfriend watching?”

My cheeks flush. I nod.

“And did you like it?”

I’ve never talked about this with anyone. I clear my
throat. “Yeah.”

“You liked him watching?”

I nod. “The fact that her boyfriend was watching was
the hottest thing about the whole thing.”

Josh’s face lights up.

“Well, that and, you know, the whole excitement of
doing something taboo. But the actual making-out part—you know,
what my friend physically did to me, what I did to her—that wasn’t
the real turn-on. If we’d been in private, just the two of us, it
never would have happened.”

“Interesting.” Josh leads me to the table in the
middle of the suite and sits me down. He leans over me, his hands
on the arms of my chair. “And did the boyfriend join in with you
two girls at some point?”

I’ve never told anyone about that night. My heart is
racing. I nod.

“And did you like it when he did?” He leans forward
slightly, leveling his blue eyes with mine.

“Um. It was just okay, to be honest. The guy was
really
into his girlfriend. So once things got going, I
pretty quickly started feeling like a third wheel, and I didn’t
like that feeling.”

He chuckles.

“At all.”

He grins. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“I’ve come to realize I need to be the center of
attention.”

“No shit?” He flashes a cocky grin.

I try to look offended at that comment, but it’s
impossible. I join him in laughing.

He glides to the bar. “How about a quick drink
before we meet Henn?” He looks at his watch. “We’ve got about
twenty minutes.”

“Just some water. I’m pretty wiped out.”

“Water it is. So was that your only threesome, Party
Girl?” he asks, busying himself behind the bar.

“Yeah. I never had the desire to do it again after
that. I realized I was more turned on when her boyfriend was
watching than when he actually joined in.”

“Interesting,” he says, mixing a drink behind the
bar. “So you said in your application you have lots of fantasies.
Is that one of your fantasies—someone watching you with another
person?”

My cheeks are on fire. “Um, no, not really. I
haven’t given it much thought since then. But I guess it could be
kind of fun to experience the whole thing the way my friend
did—being the center of attention instead of the third wheel. I was
just window dressing during the whole thing, but I suppose it might
be fun to be the
window.
”

He brings me my water, his eyes blazing. “Here you
go,” he says. He places my water on the table in front of me and
sits down next to me. He places his hand on my thigh.

“What about you?” I ask, my heart thumping in my
chest. “Would you be interested in... watching?”

“Just tell me where and when.”

Oh shit. He misunderstood me. I was speaking
hypothetically—asking him whether he has the general fantasy of
watching a
hypothetical
woman he’s attracted to getting it
on with another woman. I wasn’t specifically asking him if he wants
to watch
me
with another woman.

There’s a long beat as I try to figure out how best
to clarify my question.

Josh takes a long sip of his drink. “But only if you
were totally comfortable with it,” he adds, his eyes burning.

“Is that a martini?” I ask.

“Yeah, you want one?”

“Maybe just a sip of yours.”

I’m expecting him to slide his drink toward me, but,
instead, he takes a long gulp of his drink, grabs my face, leans
into me, and kisses me deeply, letting the delicious fluid in his
mouth gush into mine.

“Holy shitballs,” I say when he pulls away from my
lips. “That was so freakin’ hot.” I laugh.

He licks his lips. “So do you think you’d be up for
letting me watch you with a woman? I’d really enjoy it.”

I pause. “I’m not bisexual.”

He shrugs. “You don’t need to be. You wouldn’t have
to do much to make me very happy. You could do as little or as much
as you’d want. What you do isn’t really the point of it for
me.”

He slides his martini to me, reading my mind, and I
take a long sip.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything that makes you
even remotely uncomfortable. You’d be surprised how little it takes
to make me a very happy boy.”

My pulse is pounding in my ears. “I think it would
depend,” I say. I put down the drink.

“On what?”

“On who the other woman was.”

He smiles broadly.

“In college, my friend and I were both totally
weirded out afterwards and we never got back to normal,” I say.
“The experience pretty much ruined our friendship.”

He leans forward, his eyes locked onto mine, and
cups my jawline in his palm. “What if you could pick the woman? And
do as little or as much as you pleased with her?”

I swallow hard. My heart is beating wildly. “It...
would... be totally up to me?” I stammer.

He leans back and drops his hand from my face, his
eyes ablaze. “The question wouldn’t be whether the woman turns
me
on—the only question would be whether she turns
you
on. If so, that would do wonders for me.”

My head is spinning. “Would you ultimately join in
and have sex with both of us—or just with me?”

“What would you prefer?”

“Just with me.”

“Then that’s what I’d do.”

“You’d have to swear not to lose control and start
fucking the other woman.”

He scoffs. “Kat, I’m not an animal. I don’t ‘lose
control’ and start fucking people like a dog humping a leg. I’m not
some sort of sex offender.”