Saint And Sinners (18 page)

Leaving his thoughts of previous lurid affairs, Saint returned to the current scene
of the crime and decided the woman was unmistakably flirting with him when he caught
her batting her lashes for no particular reason at all.

Though her attentions flattered him, he was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Her
leg brushed again against his as she crossed her ankles, the action exposing the white
heel of her tall, sparkling stilettos. She brought the long, winding microphone close
to her lips after sucking the bottom one as if attempting to bring it to climax. He
didn’t miss the little kitten staring at him from the corner of her eye, gauging him,
wondering if he was trying to catch what she was throwing. He’d attempted to give
her the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’d been accused of believing every
being on the planet with a vagina was hungry for the touch of his tongue and aching
to be filled with his cum. That simply wasn’t true, but he knew when a woman was attracted
to him. He’d honed in on such nuances and subtleties that the most perceptive of men,
missed. He had to, for his life at one point in time revolved around collecting primo
pussy, and getting as much of it as he could squeeze into a twenty-four hour day.
But that was over; there was only
one
pussy he wanted to repeatedly conquer, and it belonged to a woman to whom he’d given
his last name…

“We’ve got some calls lined up,” the tiny woman said in an alluring voice, sensual
with an edge. She reminded Saint of a call girl who’d been coached from the best of
the slutty best. A woman with a silver tongue that she was exhibiting way too much
of. She slid the damn thing seductively over her upper lip, leaving a slight sheen
across the pink flesh. The woman was attractive, albeit nothing show stopping, but
that voice was sexy as fuck! She held an intonation that could make a man cum from
her merely screaming his name. Aubrey was one of those women that many would classify
as average, a basic model, but she had major sex appeal, and she knew how to wield
it.

There was no doubt in Saint’s mind that she was proficient in the art of making love,
not simply the logistics of the matter. The woman had the power, and she was used
to abusing it. She got
what
she wanted,
who
she wanted,
when
she wanted it, and wouldn’t take ‘No’ from him without a fight.

“Are you ready?” She smiled coyly, the microphone bumping slightly against her mouth
like the big head of a cock. She flicked her tongue at it, as if it were a damn accident
while she kept on smiling, pretending to be oblivious of the fellatio demonstration
she churned in his direction. He nodded curtly and left his response short, damn near
rude. But Aubrey wouldn’t be daunted. In reaction, she released the hounds, also known
as the callers, but not before caressing his upper thigh in the subtlest of ways.
The touch was over before it began, leaving Saint in a daze and brewing with freshly
plucked anger at the intrusion.

She put her damn hands on me… Why do I run into this shit every now and again? So
many women think that, because of my past, I am some windup toy with no scruples and
ready to fuck them at the drop of a hat…

“Yes, I’m ready,” he said grimly. There wasn’t much else that could be done. It was
simply too late, for he was on the air…

“Tonight we have the famous, revered, controversial and highly intelligent Dr. Saint
Aknaten with us, ladies and gentlemen. He has joined us for the ‘Sensual Shower Hour’,
so please have your questions ready and give him time to respond. First, I’ve asked
Dr. Aknaten to give us our sex tip of the day before we begin to take calls.” She
shot him a haughty glance. “Please, share with us a tip before our show gets underway.”
She leaned back in her seat, a satisfied expression on her face.

“Of course.” Saint thought for a moment, cleared his throat, then began. “Let’s take
a look at oral sex for a moment. One of the questions I have been asked the most from
male clients is: how do you know when your sexual partner, in this case a woman, is
turned on? Well, naturally, all women are different; however, there is a physiological
way, besides the vagina becoming wetter in anticipation of penetration, erect nipples,
and a flushing of the skin. What you can do is put your finger on her perineum. The
perineum is the spot right above her anus. It will vibrate without her control. It
is a tell-tale sign that she is actually contracting, at the pinnacle of orgasm. It
lets you know if she is turned on or not. So,” he cocked his head to the side and
grinned, “that’s one way to check in on your mate, make sure you are on the right
path to bringing her optimal pleasure.”

“Thank you so much for that tip, Saint! Alright, let the calls begin. Avis from Atlanta,
Georgia, you are on the air…” she said in a voice that would titillate the masses
as she hung onto the last syllable. Saint glared at her and grasped the material of
his gray pants, bunching it tightly in the palm of his hand.

“Evening, Aubrey and Dr. Aknaten.”

“Good evening,” they said in unison.

The woman shot him a look, as if they were some sort of kindred spirit, beating on
one drum to create a tune to last an eternity. His ‘fed up’ level had been surpassed
as he cleared his throat and shot a glance down at his shoes, knitting escape plans
together that unraveled before they were nearly finished. He was growing tired of
her, and the night had just begun.

“My question is, how often do people have sex, like on average? My wife and I have
been married for four and a half years. When we first got married, it was hot ’nd
heavy. Now, I barely get it once every two or three weeks. Honestly?” The man huffed
in frustration. “It is making me think of getting it somewhere else. I told her that
this had to change, but she hasn’t done
anything
to improve the situation. At this point, my marriage is in trouble.” The man took
a deep breath. “I don’t want to cheat on her, but I got needs.”

“Avis.” Saint stretched his legs, relaxing a bit, leaned back in the brown leather
seat and crossed his ankles. He reclined to the side and placed his hand along his
jaw as he formed his answer in his mind before speaking. “How long has this been going
on? The lack of consistent intimacy?”

“Hell, for at least two years.”

“Okay, and I assume you’ve told her you love her and you wish to express that feeling
to her sometimes in an intimate manner?”

“All the time. I tell her she’s beautiful, that I love her, I love our kids, all of
that.”

“Okay, well, to answer your initial question, the average sexual interactions between
married couples vary, but, on average, for those under fifty-five, it is one to two
times per week so clearly, you are not anywhere near that. I would say that excessive
periods of non-sexual intimacy can be a detriment to a relationship, especially if
previously the sex was customary, which set up expectations and a foundation for what
was to come. Now, it is normal for many married couples to go through cycles. Even
couples that have sex several times a day may go through a cool down period where
it drops to, say…”—Saint’s lips dipped as he mulled it over—“…once a day, or maybe
only a few times a week, which would be below average for that particular couple.
Children can interfere with one’s love life. Hormonal shifts can interfere with libido
and sex drive.

“In these cases, communication is key. Not just what you say, but
how
you say it.” Saint clasped his hands over his lap. He didn’t like how Aubrey was
now stealing glances at his crotch, her eyes shifty and glossing over with epic sneakiness.
“If you are pressuring her and she only hears, ‘I love you’, when you are trying to
engage in sexual activity with her, it may be turning her off. She will associate
the term of endearment with you
wanting
something, a simple ploy and manipulative tactic. Thus, she will be subconsciously
rebelling, even if she isn’t aware of it, and may begin to pull away even further.
Now, there is another reason for such a thing to occur, besides infidelity. Has she
had any recent health issues, surgeries or medical procedures minus the routine physical
and dental tooth cleaning in the last couple of years?”

“Uh, she had our daughter last year in May and then she had to have surgery for her
arm. Other than that, not really.”

“How old is your wife, Avis?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Mmmm, okay.” Saint ran his index finger along his chin as he pondered the information.
“What are your work schedules and home life like? Does she work a lot?”

“Yeah, like fifty hours a week. That’s been going on for, like, a year and a half
now. She took maternity leave, and then it started again. I stay home with the kids.”

“Were you recently working similar hours?”

“Nah, I’ve been laid off for six months now. I do construction.”

“Okay, well, without having the time to delve further, what I think is going on is
a simple case of exhaustion, Avis. You have more energy because you are not working
that type of schedule. This isn’t to say that childcare isn’t hard, it in fact is,
but if a woman is working fifty plus hours a week, comes home, helps with cooking
and cleaning—which I’m assuming she may but please feel free to correct me if I’m
wrong—by the time the evening hours approach, the last thing she may want to do is
engage in intercourse. That requires work and energy, not to mention, for a woman
to enjoy a sexual encounter she has to be mentally and emotionally present.”

“Well, uh, what can I do to make her feel, I guess, more energetic?”

Saint gave a slight chuckle and slowly licked his bottom lip as he prepared his answer.

“Avis, this requires you to make her feel special, okay? You have to romance her.
There is no magic pill to solve this. You will have to invest in your relationship.
She is tired, overwhelmed, possibly even depressed. Here is what I want you to do.
I want you, first thing tomorrow…” Saint pointed at the microphone as if it were the
man’s face, “…to send flowers to her job. If the delivery charges are out of your
price range, pick her up some less costly ones from, say, the grocery store. Pull
up to the job and deliver them to the front desk then walk out, don’t let her see
you. When she gets home, I want you to have dinner cooked or picked up.”

“I cook dinner already.”

“But is it food she wants? Is it something that shows you put some thought into it?”

The man laughed.

“See? I didn’t think so.” Saint smirked. “Beans and sliced up wieners won’t cut it.
Make her favorite meal. Put the kids to bed a bit early, too, or have a neighbor,
babysitter or friend watch them. Have a glass of wine sitting there for her, then,
don’t approach her for sex that night. Just let her enjoy the moment. The next day,
I want you to have a card and candy for her. If she doesn’t like candy or there is
some problem with that, pick up a magazine you know she’d like, something like that.
It could even just be a little piece of costume jewelry from Wal-Mart and a little
two dollar card, or a hand-written note from you—this has more to do with the thought
process, all that was involved, do you understand?”

“Yeah…yeah, I get it.”

“Then, don’t have sex with her that night either.”

“Awwwww man!” Avis blurted, causing Aubrey and Saint to laugh in response.

“I know, I know.” Saint grinned as he tapped the table. “Then, on the
third
day…” Saint raised his finger as he made his point, a sly grin on his face. “Get
another babysitter. The reason you do this on the first night as well is to allow
her to enjoy the time in peace and to show her that getting a babysitter doesn’t mean
you anticipate sexual activity. When you do it again, she will not associate the lack
of the children’s presence as such. Now, when she comes home, tell her that you want
to play a game.”

“Oh yeah, now
this
is what I need to hear!” The man chuckled.

“You hand her three pieces of paper. All of them act as coupons. You write on each
one something she gets, that she can cash in, like you doing a load of laundry, giving
her a couple hours to herself in the house, things like that.”

“Mmmm hmmm, mmmm hmmmm…let me write this down,” Avis blurted. A shuffling sound soon
followed.

“Then, after you present the coupons to her, you tell her you just want to touch her…and
then…” Saint’s voice drifted as if he were falling into a day dream. “You just take
your hand and
skim
your fingertips over her cheek…lightly now, as if you are a feather caressing the
moon. Tell her that if you can help her in some way, to let you know. Let that woman
know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you two are partners, you’re a team! She needs
to know, Avis, that she can rely on you. Be her rock. Let that woman know that you
want her, and that hell, man, you miss her. Tell her…tell her you want to get back
to where you once were, and make it even
better
. Tell her that you want to make love to her, not just to climax, but also to feel
safe inside of her, and you want
her
to feel safe and protected, too…” Saint nodded and grinned as he brought his point
home. “So, the way to make her feel safe is through expression
and
action. By doing this exercise, you do both. So you tell her, Avis…you tell that
woman, ‘There isn’t anything I want more than for us to feel safe within one another.
When I push inside of you, it is a reminder that I am
always
within you,
for
you…’cause baby, I worship you.’”

“Dayum! That’s some pimp shit! Yeah, I gotta try this, man!”

Saint slapped the console and burst out laughing.

“You was talkin’ a little fast, but I think I got it all down!”

“Okay good, but improvise it specifically for her, okay? The whole point of that three
day exercise is to make your wife feel important, to feel special, like you give a
damn. She’s been through a lot—not saying you haven’t, but women are wired differently
than us when it pertains to intimacy. They need to be warmed up, and sex for them
has more to do with feelings than their bodies, vaginas and sex drive. All of those
components are important, but a woman’s brain and heart are her two biggest sex organs.
For us, feelings sometimes rarely come into play as far as the urge is concerned.
It’s about us cumming, about the ejaculation. Make it
bigger
than that, man… Let her know you just want her back, you want your wife back…”