"Let's get started," Gemma said. "First of all let me say, 'Welcome.' We at Eclectic Lovers are here to enhance your erotic pleasure. First things first. Ground rules. You will have the opportunity to use some of the items in your boxes. But not—"
Use the items? My throat closed up and I had to cough before I could breathe again. Gemma seemed not to notice.
"No means no." She continued, "Respect each other, and we'll be fine." Gemma's pudgy fist, thumb up, jabbed the air to emphasize the point. "This is your class and we want you to go at your own pace and level of comfort."
Trying to calm my rising panic, I inhaled long, shaky breaths. My gaze settled on the hands of the man sitting next to me. His fingers were flat, club-shaped, and long with dark hair sprinkled over tan knuckles. They were aged, but not too old. Breathe in; breathe out, I told myself.
He reached for his booklet. Realizing I hadn't been listening, I sat straighter and looked at Gemma.
"—positions. This class isn't long enough to discuss them all. That could take weeks."
Weeks? What was she talking about? Not sexual positions. I flipped open the manual, flinched, then snapped it shut. Heads swiveled in my direction. Managing a tepid smile, I sunk lower in my chair and, not wanting to draw more attention to myself, reopened the booklet.
Forty small black and white photographs were laid out in a grid. Standing, sitting, straddling, squatting, frontward, backward, up, and down. I didn't even know normal people bent in those directions. In about half the photos, the woman's mouth was agape, in the other half she was smiling. Was she actually having fun?
When I noticed my mouth had curled in disgust, I relaxed my facial muscles. Then, in spite of my revulsion, I felt a tingling in my crotch. That's new, I thought. Well not new, new. Just new in the last—I cut the thought off.
