“Are you telling me that every woman that comes in here to have the operation done, waits at least three weeks before she has penetrative sex?”
“It’s a recuperation period, Mr Hix, that’s what we advise the body needs as an absolute mimimum in order to provide an authentic experience. Once our patients leave the clinic, we have no control over what they do.”
Dante looks awa
y briefly to the fireplace. The charred remains of two large logs still sit in the grate, from the last time it was lit, over fifteen years ago.
“What would you need to do, for penetrative sex to be possible on the very same day of the operation?” he asks, turning back to face the doctor.
“That is a question I cannot answer”, Dr Chaudrey says.
“In that case”, Dante says, already on the way to standing up. “Thank you for your time.”
“Wait”, Dr Chaudrey says, his hand up to stop him. “Please sit down.”
“I don’t believe there is anything we can do to help each other”, Dante says.
“There is something we can do”, Dr Chaudrey says. “It’s not how I would perform the operation, but I understand different clients have different requirements. Please, sit down.”
“Go on”, Dante says, retaking his seat.
“I can make the new area thicker”, he says. “But it would mean that you would have to have sex on the same day, otherwise you might not be able to penetrate the area at all once it fully heals. It might hurt a little bit as well, for both of you, at least to begin with. The area will be tender and much more sensitive.”
“But it will mean that we will be able to have sex immediately, and the sensation will be the same? It will be just as authentic?”
Dr Chaudrey nods. “That I can confirm absolutely to you. I don’t advise it, but I can confirm it and I will perform the operation for you.”
“Then I think we can help each other out after all”, Dante says, smiling.
“When would you like the operation to be performed?”
“I believe we might be ready at some point this weekend. I need to confirm it with my partner first.”
“Good. I will need to meet your partner of course, receive her written consent and perform a series of tests before we begin.”
“Tests?” Dante inquires.
“Procedural”, Dr Chaudrey says quickly, the look on Dante’s face one of suspicious concern. “Nothing serious at all. We just need to confirm that she’s fit enough for the operation to be performed.”
“You have her medical records already”, Dante points out.
“Yes”, Dr Chaudrey agrees.
“You just need to check the boxes.”
Dr Chaudrey is aware that it’s not a question. “Exactly”, he says.
“I want you to make yourself available for whenever we need you”, Dante says.
“If you let me know as soon as you know, I can usually get you in within seventy two hours.”
Dante shakes his head. From the moment I leave this office, until the moment we leave the surgery, you are available at a moment’s notice”, Dante says. “Do you understand me when I say that money is no object.”
“Mr Hix, I have several patients waiting for operations.”
“Not anymore”, Dante says.
Dr Chaudrey laughs nervously. “What is your daily rate?” Dante asks.
“It depends on the amount of operations.”
“Choose a figure.”
Dr Chaudrey takes a moment to regard the billionaire. He’s deadly serious about this.
“Five thousand a day.”
“Congratulations, Dr Chaudrey, you’ve just got a pay rise”, Dante says.
“Ok”, Dr Chaudrey agrees, nodding enthusiastically.
“Keep your phone on, I’ll call you”, Dante says. A moment later he’s out of his seat and by the door. “Oh”, he says, turning back to face the doctor, “if you fuck this up, I won’t be happy.”
Chapter 6
Sixteen days after she last saw him and five days after she left her last message, her patience worn completely through yet again, Sash decides that there is only one course of action left to her. Abbey is right. She needs to go and claim her itinerant stepbrother and show him who he really belongs to. She wants to trust him, but enough is enough. Sixteen days without a single call, and still no indication of when he’s going to come home again is enough for any girl. She’s upset, disappointed in him, and back to square one yet again.
She has the name of his hotel. She’ll get on the earliest flight they can give her, track him down and let him know how she feels. He can’t treat her like this, hanging on to his every word, hoping that each time her cell phone rings it’s going to be him. Spending weeks apart in two different cities isn’t the kind of relationship that she had in mind. She needs him with her and if he can’t even do that, she’s going to have to rethink her plan all over again. Yeah it’s great having his money, but it means nothing at the end of the day if he’s not here to share the experiences with her. What’s the point of that?
She packs a small bag with expensive clothes, things she feels like Dante will love to see her in, and takes a taxi out to the airport. Jutting out of the skyline proudly like a huge steel cock stands that symbol of power and wealth she can’t seem to stop looking at. Dante’s office tower.
At the airport, she asks for the next available flight to Los Angeles, buying a ticket in business class, because the extra luxury seems like exactly the kind of thing she deserves. With a couple of hours before her flight leaves, she relaxes in the first class lounge sipping sparkling water and eating canapés of exotic and unusual flavors, taking care to find out first of all if any of them contain ingredients that an expectant mother might wish to avoid.
Once again, she’s reminded how easily she could adapt to this lifestyle, but only with someone else by her side. There are several moments she would love to share, only to find herself unable to comment to anyone but herself. In the absence of company, and tired of looking around at the other passengers, most of whom are traveling with loved ones or entire families, she loses herself in her cell, messaging Abbey constantly to give her a blow by blow account of her experience.
On the plane, she finds herself sharing the business class section with only two other passengers. She’s never experienced anything like this before. The last time she flew was for a dance trip to Toronto, and she barely had any space in front of her to stretch her legs. This time her seat flattens completely into a bed. This time she has a mini-bar, a flat screen TV, an Egyptian cotton, goose down filled pillow, a three course meal and a personal in-flight attendant. She flattens the seat not because she wants to go to sleep, but just because she can. She smiles at the other two passengers, who nod at her and share knowing glances, of their own, very first business class flight, when they spent the whole journey doing exactly the same.
Sash is easily pleased, but her excitement at having something so luxurious, ten thousand feet in the air, seem like a treat better than all of the other ones put together.
The food is good too. She’s had better, but for something that has been cooked in the aviatic equivalent of an industrial microwave, she’s more than impressed. It’s a three hour hop to L.A. It’s enough time for Sash to gather her thoughts and think about how she wants to proceed. Turning a magazine over in her hands, far too distracted to read it, she finds herself thinking less about what Dante will say, and more about what he’ll do.
Those rippled muscles flexing as he enters her. That stormy look in his eyes of absolute, undivided attention. His thick, swollen cock thumping gloriously against her G-spot as he takes her and makes her his own. His need. His greed. His desire. Just the hint of the memory is enough to make her panties wet. She can’t wait to see what he’s got in store for her. Yeah, he might be mad that she’s disobeyed him, but look what happened last time, when she sent him those provocative pictures. A mad, jealous Dante she can handle. An absent one is a different prospect entirely.
She tries to take her mind of it by watching TV, but she can’t concentrate for long enough to make it worth while.
Instead she finds herself idly flicking through the selection of magazines they have on offer, losing herself for long periods of time with one called “Baby and Mother.”
The flight attendant smiles as she passes. When she comes back to replenish Sash’s m
ineral water, she can’t resist asking.
“You must be very recent”, she says, nodding at the magazine and the fact Sash isn’t showing. “Usually it takes about three months to see the bump.”
Sash’s hand instinctively goes to her belly.
“Is it your first?”
Sash nods, unsure how to react. Just talking about it makes it sound real. “How did you know?” she says eventually.
“A mother can always tell. I’ve got two already, two months into the third. It’s less scary than you think.”
“I hope so”, Sash says.
“You’ll be fine. As soon as it comes along, you’ll want another, you’ll see.”
“I guess that depends on the dad.”
“Men go crazy around babies, haven’t you seen them? They’re worse than women. You think he’s protective of you, wait ‘til the little one comes along. It’s worse with a girl too. I’ve got one of each, so I hope to God this next one is another boy.”
“I haven’t decided what I’d prefer”, Sash says. “I think I’d be happy with either.”
“Well you’ve got a good chance of that”, the flight attendant says with a smile, before work takes her off in a different direction and Sash is left feeling warm and gooey inside.
The flight lands at LAX airport just before 6pm. Sash is chaperoned through the terminal to the taxi rank, a porter by her side to carry her bag and make sure she doesn’t get lost. She has never been to California before, let alone L.A. The first thing she notices is the accent, the second how big everything is. The roads are wider, the cars larger, the woman taller and fuller-chested.
It takes an hour to get from the airport to the city, and a further fifteen minutes to crawl through the traffic to Dante’s hotel. The driver is good natured but talkative, and even though it takes her mind slightly off what is about to come, his direct questions make her flush with embarrassment. She giggles nervously and doesn’t give too much away. She’s here on vacation, her boyfriend is already at their hotel, and this is her first time on the west coast.
By the time she arrives, her heart is thumping away, and she’s got a cold sweat of anxiety clinging to the back of her neck. Once again she’s gone against his wishes and decided to take matters into her own hands. She has no idea whether he is here. For all she knows, he might already be back in New York, preparing himself to call her. It’s a possibility, however unlikely. What she hopes, more than anything else, is that he’s not here with another girl. Sash pushes the thought away. She can’t help but think it, but being pessimistic is not going to help her. If he is, she’ll have to cross that bridge when she comes to it.