What Piper Needs Read online

  WHAT PIPER NEEDS

  Pushing the Boundaries:

  Book Two

  AMANDA ABBOTT

  Piper and Michael Collins have it all. They’re in love, both have successful jobs, live in a nice neighborhood, and have a great sex life—that is, up until recently. Over the past six months everything has started to drag. Even though they’ve led an “extracurricular” lifestyle for a long time, things have gotten boring.

  Piper decides to liven up her marriage in a big way, which she does with a little encouragement from her pal Caroline at their weekly STD happy hours. Piper jumps in and sparks between she and Michael fly. First with hot selfies, office sex, and later with some much needed risk-taking.

  From there, Piper and Michael make a top ten sex list and start ticking off their wildest fantasies. Piper becomes fearless—the things that made her panic in the past are no longer holding her back—but when they both arrive at Michael’s number ten, is Piper really ready?

  *This book is super steamy hot, filled with out-of-the-box moments. The book contains: explicit sex, hardcore toys, and group sex. **There is no cheating in any of my books, everything is consensual between all participants.

  WHAT PIPER NEEDS

  Pushing the Boundaries: Book Two

  Copyright © 2015 Amanda Abbott

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9903928-5-9

  Email: [email protected]

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  For Cindi.

  1

  __________________________

  ____________

  “Honestly, Piper. You never listen to me anyway. If you did, you might find my advice helpful.”

  “I do listen. It’s just hard to focus when, you know, focusing takes so much of my brainpower.” Piper Collins sat in her usual spot, a comfy overstuffed chair by the window, half-listening to her sex therapist, Marianne Cummings, talk about all the changes she needed to make in her life, half-daydreaming about seeing her husband, who was currently away on business.

  Piper suppressed a snicker when she thought of her therapist’s last name, which she often did, sometimes right in the middle of a session. She’d chosen this woman solely based on her moniker.

  Come on. It’d been a no-brainer.

  Piper had been seeing her weekly for the last eight years, without fail, and Marianne was worth the money. But Piper never took her advice.

  Well, hardly ever.

  Piper was a little more attentive today because she was looking forward to sharing Marianne’s sage advice with her bestie, Caroline Stratton, for their weekly STD meeting tonight, which included wine, lots of laugher, lewd jokes, and plenty of talk about sex.

  The acronym stood for: Sexual Therapy for Deviants.

  It was an utterly nonsensical name for their wine-soaked therapy sessions, but Piper thought it was funny, so she had christened it as such the very first night, and STD it had stayed.

  Caroline, her best friend and neighbor, had gone through her own sexual metamorphosis a few months ago, and was still adjusting. Michael, Piper’s husband of almost ten years, had spilled the beans about their own extracurricular-sex lifestyle, which had propelled the Strattons into their own experimentation. But Caroline wouldn’t be caught dead talking to a stranger about sex. It had been hard enough for her to open up to Piper.

  Piper figured sharing what she learned from Marianne was her way of paying it forward.

  But, in reality, the new weekly STD meetings were helping Piper almost as much she could see they were helping Caroline. Caroline had actually made Piper feel more normal than she had in years, so there was something to be said about your girlfriends being your best counselors.

  Marianne interrupted her thoughts. “It’s a wonder your brain isn’t the consistency of scrambled eggs with all that’s going on in there. I see you’re thinking hard about something.”

  “No scrambled eggs in here.” She tapped the side of her head. “I’m just really good at compartmentalizing.”

  “I’d say avoiding is a more apt description of what’s going on inside that mind of yours.” Marianne took her glasses off and let them rest on her chest, dangling from the rhinestone chain Piper gave her as a gift years ago.

  “Fine, avoiding. But, whatever. It’s not going to happen.”

  “I think you should rethink that,” Marianne told her. “It’s more than time for you to stop being afraid of your own sexual happiness and jump back into the mix. Start risk-taking again. No more watching from a safe distance, left out of the fun. You’re such a vibrant soul, Piper. It’s a pity to keep missing out on all the sexual adventures that await your pleasure.” Ms. Cummings was a product of the sixties. She advocated a lot of free love, which Piper was totally on board with.

  But this was different.

  Jumping in could produce a ripple effect that she might not recover from this time. At least, that was her greatest fear. “I’m not afraid. I’m terrified. What if that”—Piper waved her hand in the air aimlessly—“thing happens again? I can’t risk it. I don’t feel ready.”

  “That thing? You mean your mental breakdown?”

  “Um, yes. Exactly that.”

  Piper still had trouble admitting it had ever happened.

  It’d been a dark time in her life, and it had been a blessing that she’d been out of it for only a few weeks and not months—or even years. In the thick of it, she’d felt like the weight of the world was crushing the life out of her. For days on end, she’d felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Michael had finally coaxed her out of it, with lots of love, patience, and understanding. But she wasn’t willing to risk those heavy emotions again, not even for something she needed desperately—to feel the intense pleasure of sex again. To be titillated.

  To have an orgasm shake her to her core.

  “Well, that was over eight years ago,” Marianne reminded her, “and from everything you’ve told me, you’re no longer satisfied with your sex life the way it is right now. Things are going to have to change, or it’s going to adversely affect your marriage. You’ve been participating in open sex for the last nine years, and you’ve assimilated very well. My advice is to start putting yourself out there so you can begin to find real satisfaction again and, in the process, strengthen your marriage.”

  “Or things can just stay the same.”

  Marianne chuckled.

  Piper didn’t think it was unprofessional for her therapist to laugh at her. They’d been together for too long to not be completely comfortable with one another.

  “I know that’s your fear talking,” Marianne said, “and I’ve been saying the same thing to you for the past year to no avail. So you’re either going to listen or you’re not. But now that you have this friend to confide in—what’s her name again?”

  “Caroline.”

  “Yes, Caroline. Maybe she can help you uncover the path you need to take better than I can. Piper”—she leaned forward in her straight-backed chair—“there is sexual fulfillment in your future if you allow it to happen. Lots of it. Al
l you need to do is make up your mind to live again, and it will happen for you.”

  Now it was Piper’s turn to chuckle. “I have news for you. Caroline is not going to advocate me swapping things up. She had her own little run-in not too long ago, and she’s still recovering. She will want me to stay nice and safe.”

  “Have you explained everything to her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Try it. She might surprise you.”

  * * *

  “I think you should fuck the shit out of him.” Caroline drained her third glass of wine and peered over the rim at Piper, her eyebrows up at her hairline. “What? Too much?”

  “Caroline Elizabeth Stratton!” Piper belly-laughed. “I cannot believe that just came out of your proper Southern mouth! I’m totally aghast!” She really wasn’t. Piper loved Caroline’s new confidence. She’d like to take credit for her growth, but really, it was thanks to her husband, Jace. That man would do anything for her, and Caroline had finally accepted that.

  Caroline set her glass down and smiled like a shrew. They were in Piper’s kitchen for a change, the breakfast nook, to be exact. “You are not even a little aghast,” Caroline replied. “You love this new side of me. But let’s get back to the real issue here, because I’m having trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in six months! And this is the first I’m hearing about it! What the hell, Piper? I thought we shared everything now. I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’re the one who’s responsible for me being in this lifestyle at all, which has been less than six months. You sat in my kitchen and painted this fantastical picture of raw carnal pleasure, delights around every corner, and you’re not even living it! What a farce!”

  Piper didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, she swirled the wine in her glass. The ruby liquid arced close to the rim, leaving behind a thin film. This was one of her favorite wines. A Cabernet mix. She saved the good stuff for her nights with Caroline. They usually met at Caroline’s because she worked from home and it was easy for her to host. But Michael was out of town, and Piper had taken a rare day off from her hectic job at the ad agency and had made them a bunch of their favorite foods, including guacamole, which Caroline was currently munching on. Piper set her glass down and rested her arms on the table. “I couldn’t tell you before because it’s embarrassing. I used to be the orgasm queen. I could come in three minutes flat, now, zilch, nada, nothing. Telling you I was failing in the sex department when you were all hopped up on it all wasn’t going to happen. I don’t do Debbie Downer. I’m Debbie Upper. You should know that by now.”

  Caroline leaned over the table, chip in one hand and a recently refilled wine glass in the other. “Well, we’re going to fix your sex slump. You just have to leave it to me. That’s why I’m advocating a lot of fucking. And if it’s not with Michael, then why not someone else?” She dipped the chip and popped it into her mouth. “Mm, this is delicious, by the way. I’m thinking we should’ve had margaritas instead of wine.”

  Piper ignored what Caroline had just said about swapping partners, because she knew her pal was on her way to drunk, which was the end goal of these meetings. “I didn’t serve margaritas because the last time you had tequila, the night ended with Emma and Pete and a lot of car sex. Didn’t want to give you nightmares.” Piper grinned at her friend, trying to get a rise out of her, which was usually a piece of cake.

  Caroline swished her hand in dismissal. “That wouldn’t have been a trigger. Now, if you’d had a revolving bed in your kitchen, that would’ve put me over the edge.” Caroline was referring to Emma and Pete’s basement, nicknamed the Pleasure Paradise. A place Piper hadn’t been in over a year. “No, I’m just kidding.” Caroline dipped another chip. “I’m over it, I swear.”

  Piper snorted. “You are so not over it. You watch that video like it’s going out of style, but I also know you’re not ready to go back for another try with the Slaters.”

  Caroline stuck out her chin. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I think about it. Not necessarily the Slaters, but maybe another couple. But things are going so well at home, I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “Oh, God.” Piper rested her head in her hands, peeking up at her friend between splayed fingers. “Do I have to sit here and listen to how talented Jace’s cock is? Again? That was so last week.” Secretly, Piper loved hearing about Caroline’s successful sex life. And it did sound like Jason Stratton had a magical cock. He just had to stick it in, tell Caroline some made-up story about guys licking her tits and fucking her from behind, and she exploded. Every single time.

  If only it could be that easy for everyone, Piper mused.

  “Oh, he is talented,” Caroline agreed, nodding. “Did I tell you he loves our Thursday night get-togethers? He calls them Thumpin’ Thursdays, ’cause after you and I talk about sex for five or six hours, I’m so horny I’m crawling out of my skin. When I get home, he’s all over me.”

  Piper chortled. “Now that’s funny. Michael refers to them as Tryin’ Hard Thursdays. Not exactly the same thing.” Piper was thoughtful while she picked up a chip. Her husband was a saint, he really was. He was tall, chiseled, and ridiculously handsome. He could’ve easily had a modeling career, but instead he went to law school. Now he was in line to become partner at a major law firm in town.

  She was beyond proud of him.

  He was her dream guy, and they’d fallen for each other in what felt like an instant. They’d been like frantic rabbits in the sack for the entire four years they dated.

  Then they’d gotten married.

  About a year later, their sex life lagged a bit. No big deal. Then they’d discovered an über turn-on in the form of Michael flirting with other women. Then whammo! They’d found themselves in an extracurricular lifestyle.

  On some days, Piper had trouble connecting all the dots.

  In the beginning, she had liked seeing Michael with other women. It’d been explosive—new and exciting. But most of that luster had worn off. What was left was a sexual void, for lack of a better term. Marianne thought it was some sort of displacement of guilt.

  But Piper knew better.

  She didn’t internalize guilt like that. She never had. She was the opposite of Caroline when it came to that. Piper had never cared what the world thought of her. No, it was more like fatigue. Like she’d been eating the same cracker for nine years straight, and now she was so sick of that fucking cracker, every time she thought about eating it, she felt nauseated.

  What she really wanted was a cookie. With lots of chocolate chips.

  “Well, Tyrin’ Hard Thursdays is not the worst thing in the world,” Caroline said. “You are trying hard. That’s one of the reasons we do this.” Caroline gestured between them. “Two sexual deviants eating chips and guac can solve a lot of the world’s issues. But in order to solve your issues, we’re going to need to get to the bottom of the well, so to speak. Catch my drift?”

  “Hell no. What drift?” Piper laughed. “You’re talking nonsense. It’s like trying to decipher Morse code in Spanish.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny. What I mean is, you’re not being honest with me or yourself.” Caroline picked up her wine glass. “The bottom of the well is where your issues lie, and we have to haul up the water in order to find them. See?”

  Piper snorted. “All we’re hauling up is wine”—to prove her point, she took a long draw—“and it’s going straight to our already soaked brains. We usually end the night talking gibberish to each other, or have you forgotten?”

  Caroline shook her head. “I haven’t forgotten, but I’m not that drunk. Listen”—she set her elbows on the table—“you’ve helped me so much, and I want to do the same for you. You had the ability to get into my head when I couldn’t do it myself. You helped me clear out the water and made me see what was right in front of my nose. Now I’m going to try to do the same for you.” Caroline sat a little straighter.

  “This oughta be good,” Piper said, smilin
g at her beautiful friend, who was so eager to help her. It made Piper love her even more. “Tell me what’s wrong, doc.”

  “You’re scared.” Caroline’s tone was final. “That’s it, really. You’ve parceled out bits and pieces to me, but never the entire story. But now I think I have all the parts. You haven’t had an orgasm or, for that matter, really good sex in more than half a year. You’re still mad at yourself for sleeping with Pete all those years ago, and blame yourself. You might have liked seeing Michael with other women in the beginning, but you’re sick of it now. It doesn’t do it for you anymore. But you’re not communicating this to your husband because you’re scared.”

  “Um, okay. You might be on to something,” Piper conceded. She still hadn’t shared all the details of her breakdown with Caroline. She’d been gearing up for it, but she hadn’t spilled yet. She knew Caroline wouldn’t think any less of her, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. That time in her life had been so dark, and she just wanted to forget it ever happened. Validating it and sharing it kept it alive.

  “I think you should go on a sex quest!” Caroline announced.

  “What?” Piper hooted, slapping her thigh. “That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said! That’s hardly the advice I was expecting. I think you need to go back to the sexual drawing board, doc.”

  “I’m totally serious! You need to shake things up and rediscover what turns you on—with your husband. No more doing it the same old way. I actually think you should try to date your husband again. Pretend you just met or something romantic like that.”