The Awakening Society
The Awakening Society
By
J.M. Madden
Copyright 2012 J.M. Madden
Cover and Editing provided by
The Authors Red Room
License Notes
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the author and purchase your own copy. Do not take part in piracy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
To my husband for ALWAYS telling me to go for it. I love you dearly.
And to the KYRW ladies who have waded into the water before me. Thank you for your information, guidance and most of all, inspiration. What a fantastic group of writers you all are, and will be. Thank you.
Author Note
This book is an experiment that YOU, the reader, are going to guide. There is going to be an Awakening Society 2, and I would like you to choose the direction of the book. At the end of the story are two options to choose from. Please follow the link to my website and let me know what you would like to see next. Or, if neither suits you, there is an area where you can leave a suggestion.
Of course, you do not have to respond, but I would appreciate it. Thank you.
Chapter One
Tonya glossed her lips and tossed the tube onto the vanity, then bent over long enough to resettle her breasts in the cups of the white teddy. That was better. Now the tops of her nipples peeked above the lace. She let her hands drift down the smooth satin bodice and readjusted the elastic arching over her hips. The teddy fit her well, and it was one of her favorites. The matching satin robe was a wonderful teaser, too.
She glanced at the clock. With one last look in the mirror, she glided out of the bathroom to wait in the parlor. Harrison Walker III was due to arrive within a few minutes, and she wanted to be ready when he walked into the room. She arranged herself on the settee, angled into the corner with her knees crossed, one black spike heel dangling in the air. The position allowed one side of the robe to slide away from her thigh, but still covered the important bits. She rested one arm along the length of the settee, and the second on the side. Men usually responded to her open-armed position because it portrayed confidence, something they usually had in short supply when they walked in her door.
As the minutes ticked away, her anticipation grew. It didn’t matter how many times she did this, each time mattered, and affected her for a long time afterward. She chronicled the meetings in her journal, to be read again years later. Savannah historians would be fascinated and horrified by the names in her little books. She’d read the very first entry she ever made just a few hours ago in preparation for this meeting. It had been with Harrison Walker Jr. twenty years ago. Somehow, it seemed fitting that his son was coming to see her now, at the end of her career.
At precisely seven o’clock, there was a quiet knock on her door. Tonya’s heart began to pound in anticipation. She took a brief second to slick her lips together to smooth the color and draped the silk robe over her crossed thighs before calling for her guest to enter.
Harrison Walker III looked strikingly like his father, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and tall, but she could definitely see his mother’s Yankee heritage in the sharp nose and pale skin. Skin flushed bright red with awkwardness as he stepped in front of her, wide-eyed behind his wire-rimmed glasses. Tonya supposed she should say something to put him at ease, but she had so much fun needling the young ones. She planned to wring every possible bit of enjoyment from this encounter. She took him in slowly, from the top of his neatly combed hair, down his rapidly moving chest to his hips. She stared for several seconds, and the semi-erection hidden by his pressed khaki pants began to grow.
He was already excited. Perfect.
He folded his hands together in front of himself and cleared his throat. Taking pity on him, and satisfied with his reaction, she let her eyes drift down his legs to his loafer-clad feet. Overall, he wasn’t a bad looking kid. A little too nerdy, perhaps. He had a ranginess to him that would eventually fill out into a very nice looking man, but it would be several years yet.
She let the silence drag out, just to see if he would break it, but he didn’t.
“So,” she said slowly, “you must be Mr. Walker. My name is Tonya Hughes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Tonya shivered at the sound of his surprisingly deep voice. Her anticipation crept up a notch. Most men didn’t sound this good at forty, let alone eighteen. “Do you have your license, Harrison?”
Fumbling for his wallet out of his back pocket, he flipped it open with a shaky hand. Tonya was amused to see several condoms stuffed into the dollar compartment. The consideration was nice, but they wouldn’t need them. He slid the plastic ID card out of the sleeve and stepped close enough to hand it to her. Tonya read the birth date and confirmed he was indeed eighteen. Today, actually. “Happy birthday, Harrison. This is a big day for you.”
He bobbed his head and took his ID back when she handed it to him. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s lose the ma’am. My name is Tonya. For what we’re going to be doing, you need to be comfortable. Unfortunately, I have to make you uncomfortable first. Harrison, I need you to undress.”
Blue eyes widened incredulously. “Ma’am?”
She smiled at him, familiar with the reaction. “I’ll fill you in on a few things, Harrison. You are going to have three orgasms tonight. Once will be as you stand in front of me here. I won’t touch you at all, but I can guarantee you will enjoy the experience. I’ve found that for what I do, the sooner you knock the first orgasm off, the easier it is to teach you with the next two. You will have better focus and concentration. Can you come three times in one night, Harrison?”
“Yes, Tonya.”
“Good. Then I’m going to tie you to the bed and instruct you on the art of pleasing a woman. The faster you learn, the faster you will get to fuck me.”
He tipped his head forward, shielding his eyes, and grinned.
A convulsive shudder ran through her. That smile was surprisingly charming. She’d thought he was a virgin, but that smile hinted otherwise. “Harrison, have you ever been with a girl before?”
That slight glimmer of charm slipped away, to be replaced with chagrin. “No, ma’am. Tonya. Sorry.”
He had a look to him which Southern girls would probably avoid - a little too studious, a little too strait-laced, a little too exactly what Momma wanted her to bring home. These days, Southern girls liked wild boys, big and brash and noisy, with big trucks and even bigger egos.
“Don’t be sorry, Harrison. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. By the time you leave here tonight, you will be able to make love to any woman, and leave her wanting more. I’ve been teaching boys like you for many years, and I can guarantee you will become a man here.”
He watched her carefully, and he gave a single nod when she was done. “Okay.”
“Now, I want you to unbutton your shirt.”
He took a bracing breath before reaching up to release the first button on his white shirt. The second seemed to come easier and the rest after that. He stopped when the sides of the shirt hung open, framing a pale but lean and well-developed chest. Tonya ran her fingernails against the fabric of the couch, wanting to touch.
“What sport do you play in school, Harrison?”
“Tennis, ma-Tonya.”
She tipped her head to one side, and ran a heavy curl through her fingers.
“It’s done well for you. Keep playing, Harrison. Did you talk to your father before you came here?”
That slow red wash crawled up his sparsely haired chest, his neck, and into his cheeks. “Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
Behind the glasses, his eyes widened before they dropped to the floor.
“He said that coming here would make me a well-rounded man, and that it would prepare me for finding a proper Southern wife.”
Tonya smiled. It pleased her that Harrison Jr. remembered her words so clearly. Almost verbatim. “That’s right, Harrison. Men are like ducklings. The way they learn to make love is generally how they continue throughout their lives. I’m here to ensure you learn to make love correctly. Sex is fine and wonderful, but when you find that perfect woman, you need to know how to treat her properly. I am going to teach you some of the finer points. Now, continue undressing.”
He blinked at her and firmed his jaw. Shrugging out of the shirt, he took the time to fold it and lay it over the back of a chair. Tonya recognized the stalling tactic for what it was, and let him do it his way. They had time. His loafers were lined up neatly beneath that same chair, and each sock was stuffed into the corresponding shoe. He hesitated at the belt-buckle, but after a few seconds, flung the pieces apart and stepped out of his pants. They were folded along the front crease and laid over the arm of the chair. His glasses were placed neatly on top. The light cotton boxers he wore tented in the front, his erection trying to press through the light cloth. He turned and stood in front of her proudly, his shoulders back.
Tonya bounced her foot in the air, flexing her ankle. Harrison flicked a glance along the length of her leg, rested on the black high-heel for a brief second, then clenched his jaw and kept his gaze aimed just over her shoulder.
“Harrison.”
“Yes, m-Tonya.”
“When a woman deliberately draws attention to a part of her body, it is polite to compliment her on it. Within reason, of course.”
He nodded once, and kept his hands at his sides.
“If you walk into a coffee shop, and a woman has a lot of cleavage showing, you don’t necessarily compliment her breasts. But you could compliment her shirt, or just say that she looks nice. Pay me a compliment, Harrison.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “Tonya, that’s a very nice pair of shoes you’re wearing.”
In spite of herself she laughed. “Harrison, when you pay the woman a compliment, the one thing you don’t comment on is the shoes. It makes you sound gay. Not what a woman wants. Now, try another.”
Harrison took a deep breath, and let his eyes drift down her body. “Tonya, you have the nicest legs I have ever seen on a woman.”
She smiled. “Much better. That was perfect. Now, another.”
His jaw firmed as his gaze drifted up the bodice of her teddy, framed by the open halves of the robe. “Tonya, that is the prettiest, uh, thing I’ve ever seen on a woman.” The little bit of confidence he had crumbled with the flub.
“This is a teddy. Or you can call it a negligee. That kind of covers everything. What do you think of my breasts, Harrison?” She shrugged just a bit to get the robe to fall open wider.
Immediately, his attention settled on her chest. Tonya felt the weight of his gaze, and it was a heady thing. Awareness flowed through her body, and her nipples tightened behind the lace. Harrison swallowed harshly and cleared his throat. “I think your breasts are beautiful.”