Page 43 of The Plus One Pact

"We don't have to construct an elaborate story," Ivy says. "We can tell the truth."

"You paid him to spice up your life?" Sasha asks.

"A friend set us up," I correct.

"We thought it would be a casual thing," Ivy says. "But it became more. It's not honest, but it is the truth."

"And how long have you been together?" Sasha asks.

"Two months," Ivy says.

"A year," I say.

Sasha looks between us and shakes her head. "How about I lead this?" She straights her posture, shifting into Domme mode. "I know a little more about creating a scene than you two do."

Ivy's laugh breaks the tension in her shoulders. "You use that a lot, don't you?"

"You have no idea," I say.

"How do you talk to people who don't know what you do?" Ivy asks.

"She doesn't," I say.

"This is not about me," Sasha says. "I'm very happy with everyone in my family knowing I'm single. And employed in a boring corporate job with lots of travel." She clears her throat. "You two are the ones trying to sell some sort of story. Now, I know why you're single, Rome." She doesn't say it's because no one wants to date a hooker or it's because you're afraid of intimacy. She leaves both possibilities in the air. "But what about you, Ivy?"

"Well, uh…" All the lightness falls from Ivy's face. The mood in the room shifts. The sunshine turns to storm clouds. "I'm divorced. Things were difficult for a while. A long time. I'm not sure what finally got me to say, it's over, but something did. I moved out. We saw an arbiter. It's been official for about six months and I'm still…"

"You're not ready," Sasha says.

She nods. "I've tried to do the casual thing, but it hasn't worked well. I didn't feel safe with most of the guys I went on dates with. I still had sex with one of them, but it was… not great."

Sasha nods. "Men never get it. How much power they have over us, physically. And god knows most men don't know what sort of sex a woman actually wants. The great kissing, the anticipation, the cunnilingus. They seem to think we're ready as soon as they take off their clothes and we'll come from five minutes of dick. Not that I want ten minutes. Enough is enough already." Sasha shakes her head. "I guess it's a good thing for you, Rome. Or you'd be out of a job."

"I only have a job because most men are bad at sex?" I ask.

"Yes," Sasha says. “Of course. That's why you have a job."

"Do you have a job because most women are bad at sex?" My voice rises, despite my better judgment. This isn't a logical argument. And it's not one I ever win. Sasha and I have been over this a billion times. Neither of us ever backs down.

"No. I have a job because men treat most women like sex workers, and I was smart enough to demand money for it." Sasha folds her arms, holding firm. "Back me up, Ivy."

"I think we're getting off track," Ivy says.

"You do sound like a therapist!" Sasha exclaims.

"Do you two have this argument a lot?" Ivy asks.

Sasha and I trade a knowing look. We do have this argument a lot. Which is silly. Why am I standing up for men, in general? What do I know about the way other men fuck women?

"He won't give any ground," Sasha says.

"Why does that frustrate you?" Ivy asks.

"He's invalidating my experiences," Sasha says. "And the women I know, too. The experience of being a woman. It's scary sometimes. And it's frustrating, going into sex with a new guy knowing he probably won't have a clue what sort of sex I like. Knowing he's going to expect the sex he likes. Knowing he thinks that's the sex I like too, even though he doesn't ask."

"You think all that?" I ask. Have I really been so firm in my position I haven’t given her space to express herself? Have I acted like my fucking brother, sure I’m always right, even about what’s best for other people?

"You never ask," Sasha says.