Spice. Scarlet Smith
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for Leyla to take the helm.
She didn’t get involved in decisions about magazine or online content, but enjoyed the buzz. And yet, as the meeting progressed, she zoned out to remember Max’s fingers running up and down her thigh, his mouth upon her nipples.
‘Jess?’ Leyla was watching her with a smile, as were several of her colleagues.
‘Sorry, Leyla. What did I miss?’
Leyla grinned. ‘We need you for a blog this month. A bit more commitment, I know, writing something every day, but more pay.’
Jess nodded. More pay was always good. ‘Great, so what’s it about?’
Leyla grinned. ‘We’ve all heard of certain “mommy porn” books that are proving very popular?’
There were mutterings and a few salacious grins from the men.
‘Well, I want to jump on the bandwagon a bit. I think our readers would be interested. But I think it’s too much for the regular magazine, which is why a blog would be good.’
Jess nodded. She could write about sex easily. Hell, she’d already made a start on the research today.
‘I’m not sure about the title of the piece yet, but it’s basically: can someone go from being vanilla in their sex preferences to full-on kinky?’
Jess frowned. ‘You want me to write about my sex life?’
Leyla nodded. ‘Yeah, blog about the anti-vanilla stuff you try.’ Leyla gestured at Jason, her righthand man. ‘Jason’s got a list.’
Jason nodded and started going through some papers.
Jess shook her head. ‘I’m missing something here. What’s vanilla?’
‘You know, plain sex, missionary, bedrooms, boring …’ Leyla trailed off as Jason passed her a piece of paper.
Jess put her croissant down. ‘So I’m boring? You want me to blog about how boring I am?’
Leyla grinned. A few people laughed.
‘Jessie, I’m sure you’re not boring, honey, but when we chat, I haven’t picked up on a bondage-threesome kind of vibe off you.’
Jess made a face. ‘Well, I’m not saying I have threesomes every weekend or go to swinging parties with Max, but I’m not vanilla. Maybe a little more sedate now, but it has been three years.’
‘I’m vanilla,’ Monica, one of the full-time writers, piped up.
‘See.’ Jess pointed at Monica. ‘Maybe you can do it?’
Leyla shook her head. ‘No, Jessie, everyone’s got their assignments. I had this in mind for you. I think you’d be good.’
Jess picked up her croissant again. ‘So, walk me through it.’
Leyla held up her list. ‘Right, so the thing is, this is something everyone’s talking about and we want to be current. You take this list, pick one thing a day and then blog about the results.’
‘What if she doesn’t want to do something?’ Monica asked, reaching for a pastry.
‘Well … I guess you would blog about that. You don’t have to do anything you or Max are uncomfortable with, but I know you’re open-minded. That’s why I thought of you.’
Jess put her hand out for the list, a little surprised at herself for considering this. She had no idea what Max would say. He was no prude, but who knew what he’d make of this?
They had met in a bar – he was out with his suited-up solicitor friends and she was on a hen night. Unusual for her, but they had fallen into bed that very night. And it had been hot. They had moved in together a year later.
‘What the …’ Jess looked up from the list, laughing. ‘Leyla!’
Leyla grinned and shrugged. ‘Mmm?’
‘Threesomes, anal sex, dogging? I can just see Max’s face when I bring this assignment home.’
Everyone around the table laughed. Most appeared relieved they hadn’t been called on to do it.
‘What are the names and phone numbers for?’ Jess asked.
‘These are readers that Jason’s sounded out already. For each thing on the list, there’s a name and number for someone who does it and is happy to talk to you about it. Why they like it, what to do, stuff like that.’
Jess groaned and put her hand over her face. ‘How can I just ring some random guy and chat to him about why he likes peeing on people during sex?’
Leyla let out a massive laugh. ‘Jess, you’ll be fine.’
Jess looked at the list more carefully. She saw S & M, sex clubs … she couldn’t imagine how Max would react when she discussed this with him. She considered herself open-minded. She had a good sex life. They’d tried role-play and sex toys. Maybe she did have a few hang-ups too. And Max? Straight but very sexual. Maybe he’d be happy that his girlfriend had an assignment involving sexual experimentation. And as favours went, being OK with her getting paid to have sex – with him – wasn’t so bad, was it? It’s not like she was asking him if she could be a hooker. ‘Let me take the list and have a chat with Max tonight. I’ll text you later and let you know for definite.’
After the freelancers’ part of the meeting, Jess and a few others left the full-timers to it and headed home. Jess couldn’t think about anything but what Max might think about water sports.
Jess spent the rest of the day pottering around the house, doing washing and ironing and planning how to convince Max that this sex list was a good idea.
It was a good idea, wasn’t it? She was pretty sure it was. People always wanted to know what other people were doing in the bedroom. How they measured up. Were they doing it enough? Not enough? Were they sexy enough, wild enough? Were they normal? What was normal?
She thought she was normal. She had always enjoyed sex, and definitely enjoyed it with Max. They had a loving relationship, and, though she wasn’t into any crazy stuff, she thought she was pretty good at sex. Telling the world what she got up to in the sack was a little more than she’d bargained for as an assignment, but she couldn’t fault it for not being interesting. Plus she needed the money.
It finally came to her as she finished her lunch. The blowjob. A blowjob.
Whenever she’d given one to Max, he’d said the words every woman wants to hear: ‘You could ask me for anything after doing that, and I’d say yes.’
Well, she would test that theory tonight.
As part of her scheme, Jess dressed in a plum-coloured underwear set with a silky crimson wrap over the top. She left her long black hair loose, smeared on some red lippy and poured wine. Two steaks went into the oven and some jacket potatoes in the microwave. Operation Blowjob was underway.
When Max came home he entered in the usual fashion: the door banged against the wall, his keys dropped to the floor, there was a muttered ‘Shit!’ and then a ‘Fuck!’ as he bashed his knee on the hallway table.
‘Can we move this bloody table?’ he yelled by way of greeting as he stepped into the lounge.
‘Hey, honey …’ Jess smiled, perched on the end of the sofa, displaying her long legs.
‘Hey.’
She could tell straightaway that Max was distracted. He barely glanced at her before throwing himself into a chair and running his hands through his hair.
She sat back on the sofa, gave him a minute to grumble. She wanted to do her thing before they ate. But if he was feeling grouchy,