Free Faking It by Elisa Lorello Page A

men you were with react when you didn't have one with them?"
    "Well, my first boyfriend took it personally that he couldn't get me to have one, so after that I started faking it."
    "You faked all your orgasms?"
    "Yeah--that I've got experience in."
    "How'd you learn to do it?"
    "Movies."
    "Porn or regular?"
    "Geez, are you kidding me? Regular."
    He laughed. "I know, I just wanted to mess with you. So what kind of orgasm do you give yourself? I mean, how do you do it?"
    My face burned a bright red. "I can't."
    "You can't what."
    "I can't tell you."
    "Okay. Last question on the subject: Clitoral or vaginal?"
    Oh good God. My face buried in my hands, I had to reach deep to find the guts to answer, "The first one." Finally, I detoured the questioning. "So then, what do you do?"
    "I do lots of things with my clients, except, you know..." Rather than use words, he made a fist and moved it back and forth in a push-pull motion. "...and none have walked away dissatisfied. Well, few...I mean, they know ahead of time what they will or won't get from me, and they keep coming--forgive the pun--to see me, that is, so obviously it's enough for them. They love it, actually. For once, they don't have to work so hard, don't have to literally bend over backwards to please the guy, after which he rolls over and goes to sleep, leaving her feeling all alone. I told you: it's not about me; it's about them."
    "Are all the escorts you employ like that?"
    "Not all. Christian used to be, but he stopped servicing his clients altogether. He manages the business now."
    "How come? I mean, how come he stopped?"
    "He wanted a serious relationship."
    "And?"
    "And women are much more tolerant when they find out you're not actually doin' it." He continued, "James stopped, except with a few regular clients, and Simon still does even after we told him not to. Both of them charge extra and pocket the cash--that way, if they get arrested, Christian and I can say that we had no knowledge and can produce their contracts, which state that they're not supposed to."
    "Smart thinking. And you?"
    "What about me?"
    "You don't?"
    "Nope."
    "Never did?"
    "I told you--in my experience, that's not what my clients need."
    "It's what I need," I blurted in frustration, surprised I'd said the words out loud.
    "Oh, you definitely need to get laid," he agreed. "When was the last time you did?"
    Again, I pondered. How could I answer that question truthfully? I thought about the last time Andrew and I were together, in a bed-&-breakfast inn on the Cape, the night he told me about Tanya...
... It is supposed to be the night we finally "do it..." Flowers, candles, and expectations in abundance. We've been engaged for four months. We undress each other, and he lowers me on the bed, soft acoustic guitar music playing in the background. He touches me in all the places I love to be touched: up my thigh, inside my elbow, behind my earlobe. I run my fingers through his long hair and feel my body tremble. We're both naked. Just as he's about to go inside, I sit up, overly apologetic. He stares at me coldly for a long second, and then proclaims, " That's it ."
"Please," I plead. "I just need more time. I can do this. I want to. I'm just not ready yet." I slip my robe on and quickly cover up.
"When, Cutch? When will you be ready? It's been almost a year."
"I don't know," I cry.
"What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know...I just can't. It doesn't feel right. Maybe if we wait 'til we're married. Maybe it would be more special then."
"Then what? You'll freeze up on our wedding night? No, Honey. I'm sorry. I know I said I'd wait for you, but I can't anymore. In fact..." he hesitates. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but there's someone else. A friend of mine named Tanya from the writer's group."
I feel the life force energy drain from my body.
"I was with her once, but told her I was in love with you. But now, she's fallen in love with me, and I told her I would let her know how things went this