“Just as it was that night, it’s far more than okay,” Lex said, his voice rough. “Though we should have discussed it before, we got caught up in prepping for class. We should remedy that and talk about your desires after the demonstration when we can give it the attention it deserves.”
“Agreed,” I said, squeezing her hand. “But for the record? We want you too.”
The smile that spread across her face was worth everything.
At seven on the dot, the students reconvened, their energy different than it had been that morning. They were more open, curious, and willing to be vulnerable.
We’d set up the demonstration area with a comfortable mat and cushions, creating an intimate space that still had clear sightlines for observation. Soft instrumental music played in the background, and we’d dimmed the overhead lights in favor of warmer accent lighting.
Cami stood beside us, her nervousness evident but controlled.
“Tonight we’re going to demonstrate what we’ve been teaching all day,” I began, addressing the group. “The spotlight technique, transitions of attention, and how to ensure all partners feel valued even when they’re not the primary focus at any given moment.”
“This is going to be intimate,” Lex added, “but not sexual. We want you to observe not just what we’re doing physically, but the communication happening—verbal and non-verbal. Notice how we check in with Cami, how we read her responses, how we adjust based on what she needs.”
I turned to Cami. “Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Come here then.”
She moved to the center of the mat, and I gestured for her to sit. Once she was settled, I knelt in front of her, close enough that our knees touched.
“Cami, I’m going to ask you questions. Your job is to be honest with me and with yourself. If something feels good, tell me. If something is too much, tell me. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” I reached out and placed my hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension there. “Take a breath for me.”
She did, and I felt some of the tightness release.
“What did you learn about yourself today?” I asked, my thumbs working gentle circles into the muscles of her shoulders.
“That I’m capable of more than I thought,” she said softly. “That I can help people even when I’m still learning myself.”
“What else?”
“That being seen is both terrifying and wonderful.”
“Why terrifying?” I moved my hands down her arms slowly, maintaining constant contact.
“Because it means being vulnerable. Letting you see parts of me that I usually hide.”
“And why wonderful?”
She met my eyes. “Because you see me and you don’t look away.”
The words hit me square in the chest. I cupped her face gently, holding her gaze. “I will never look away from you, Cami. Not when things are hard, not when you’re scared, not when you think you’re too much or not enough. I do see you, and what I see is extraordinary.”
Her breath caught, and I watched her eyes grow bright with emotion.
“Now,” I said gently, “I’m going to shift back and let Lex have your attention. When I do, I want you to notice how it feels. Notice if part of you wants to hold on to me and if you feel abandoned when I step back. We’re going to work through that together.”
“Okay.”
I held her gaze for one more moment, then slowly withdrew my hands and shifted to kneel behind her. The position put me close enough to support but gave Lex clear access to her front.
Lex moved in smoothly, kneeling where I had been. “Hi,” he said simply.
