Lorenzo’s Massage Oil
Chapter Three
That was delicious, “said Lorenzo, sopping up the last of his sirloin steak with the last bit of his truffle-infused potatoes. El Gaucho did wonderful things to a steak.
“It should be, at those prices,” said Charles.
“Don’t be ungracious, Charles. Did you or did you not get well and truly laid two days ago by your wet dream of a massage therapist?”
“I didn’t just get laid, I got well and truly fucked by an insatiable sex goddess. She drained me so deeply of cum that it took me 24 hours before I was producing anything but air.”
“Yup, it has that effect. I swear that oil could make a nun take up deep-throating lessons. Well, I’m glad you had fun.” Charlie continued to stare at him as he refilled both of their glasses with a notable bottle of Cremant de Bourgogne, the creamy foam just reaching the lip of their glasses. Lorenzo moved his arms back as the waiters cleared their plates and handed them dessert menus. Finally Lorenzo looked up at him. “Okay, go ahead and ask.”
“Two questions. First, why do you think she sort of faded out on me after I came inside of her?”
“Ah. Should have mentioned that. I’ve noticed it as well. The act of orgasming inside a woman who’s under the effect of the oil is to place her in a highly suggestible state. You’ll find that there’s about two or three minutes after you cum that they’re susceptible to any particular commands that you might give them. What did you say again to her?”
“I asked her if she wanted more.”
“And she answered?”
“She answered yes, and then she did everything she could to keep me fucking her until I got out of there.”
“Well, I think you’ll find when you see her next that this command will still be operational. She’ll want more fucking, and most probably will have been thinking about that ever since she saw you last.”
“That’s a little…frightening.”
“Yeah. It could have been worse, of course. You got lucky. And I guess I just assumed that if you got to that point you would have used protection.”
“It all kind of got out of control.”
“It’s worth remembering. The effects eventually fade—though it takes a while. I had one girlfriend a few years ago that I commanded to suck me off every morning and to clean my apartment wearing a little maid’s outfit every afternoon. We broke up a couple of months later, and I saw just last week. She’s married, has a kid, and is head over heels for her husband. But she confessed to me that she still likes to dress up in the maid’s costume every once in a while and dust around their place. Makes her feel incredibly sexy.”
“So it’s not like she was your sex slave forever?”
“Oh no. People are people, Charlie. I love Monteverdi and Orson Welles. She liked ‘80s disco and Ben Affleck. The sex was great but we both knew it was the only place we connected. So though I definitely woke her tight little libido way up, it’s not like she was in love with me. But damn. That was so very hot sex,” he said, and his eyes got a devilishly distant look.
“Okay. Good to know. And I’ll bet you can guess my next question.”
“You want another dose.”
“Yup.”
Lorenzo looked at his friend thoughtfully for a moment, then ordered the chocolate truffle cake from the hostess, who shared a smile with him. With his dark skin, Italianate features, and easy charm Lorenzo was the sort of guy who didn’t need a magic oil to get laid, Charlie thought. Some guys get all the luck.
“Yes, you can have another jar. And yes, you can pay me back with another dinner. But I have to warn you Charlie, the stuff’s addictive.”
“To women?” Charlie said, suddenly concerned.
“To women and men. No, I don’t think that it causes chemical dependency—I’ve never seen any signs of that. But psychological? You bet. The feeling of undreamed-of ecstasy for the woman, control and power for the man—these are powerful forces. And the stuff is expensive, and my supply is controlled.”
“Controlled?”
“My Uncle Giuseppe. He’s the guy who sends me a new carafe every three months. “Even though you come from a noble family, your excesses must be in moderation, Lorenzo,’ is what he always tells me. Hypocritical old coot has a stable of mistresses, but if I ask for more than a beaker of this stuff every three months, he acts as if I’m a crazed libertine.”
“But you sort of are, aren’t you Lorenzo?” Charlie asked.
Lorenzo smiled. “I am a very horny devil, Charlie. And while I appreciate these dinners, I’m telling you right now: I’m not willing to part with more than would inconvenience me. But seeing as I’ve got a girlfriend right now that I kind of like and two additional lovers who’ll come over for a massage and a fuck whenever I ask, I guess I can help you out. But I want to keep you as a friend, and that means I don’t want to be your dealer, and I don’t want you to become a customer.”
“Advice noted and appreciated, Lorenzo. Well, at least one more good oily session with Dominique will work it out of my system.. So friend, if you can line me up with another dose, next week we’ll be back here. You were saying you wanted to try the lobster….”