The Sexperts: Fifty Grades of Shay

  The Sexperts Book #1: Fifty Grades of Shay

  Melinda Duchamp

  Bother in the bedroom? Stress between the sheets? Dismay under the duvet? The Sexperts can help! Call Peter Bonebury or Fanny Leuber at the Siemann Sex Institute, 555-6969 any time, seven days a week. Because even the dirtiest sex should be good, clean fun.

  In the future, some people are still prudes...

  But Fanny Leuber and Peter Bonebury, instructors at the Siemann Sex Institute, are doing all they can to make sure everyone can enjoy a healthy, prosperous sex life. Even if that means kidnapping clueless men to teach them how to please a woman, giving BDSM lessons, and creating group sex instructional videos.

  But when a gorgeous, naive blond with sexual super powers arrives at the institute, everything Fanny and Peter know will be exposed and turned upside down … including their secret feelings for each other.

  Written by bestselling erotica author Melinda DuChamp, The Sexperts is another hilarious, romantic, and downright naughty adventure for readers who are daring enough.

  It's erotica for smart people who like to laugh, just like you.

  Chapter 1

  The Siemann Institute of Sexual Proficiency

  Sometime in the future when they have invented all the cool technology in this story

  Fanny Leuber, Executive Director at Siemann, strode through the Institute's black and chrome control room, the center of the Institute's circular diagnostic and teaching building. She knocked and entered Monitor Module 26, where Peter Bonebury, her Assistant Executive Director, was relaxing his six feet two inches of glorious man-meat in an iCliner.

  When she came in he got to his feet immediately, regulation black pants and shirt, and white lab coat impeccably unwrinkled, every hair perfectly in place. As usual.

  For ten years, Fanny had been wanting to get this guy messy. But the Institute had strict guidelines about that sort of thing. There was enough controversy surrounding their company, so everything was kept above the board and strictly scientific. Inter-office flings could get you fired. Worse, they could further harm the reputation of Siemann, which would inhibit all the good work they were doing.

  Even so, from time to time, Fanny was tempted to risk it all for a romp with Peter. But he was the consummate professional, and never so much as even flirted with her.

  It was infuriating.

  "What've you got?" She took the iFile Peter handed her, glancing through the room's one-way iPortal that showed a young, attractive couple watching an iScreen in the adjoining Examination Room. "Let's see. Edie and Bob Diddle?"

  "Premature Ejac. About the worst case I've seen. We've tried standard relaxation, distraction, stop-and-go technique, pressure points, squeeze method, condom, desensitizing cream, condom with desensitizing cream, nothing helps. His wife is pretty upset."

  "I can imagine." Fanny scanned the file and winced. "Good lord, he's that fast? I didn't think that was possible."

  "Just watch." Peter went up to the control panel for the Diddle's room and pressed a button. Immediately the talk show they were watching was replaced by a music video featuring a scantily dressed starlet.

  "Ahhhhhh!" Bob white-knuckled the arms of his iCliner, his face contorting with ecstasy.

  Fanny blinked. "You have got to be kidding me."

  "Keep watching."

  "Bob!" Edie Diddle's head snapped around to look at her husband with barely disguised weariness. "Come now! I know it's hard, but take hold of yourself!"

  "Uhhhhhh!"

  Edie dropped her head in her hands. "Not literally!"

  Peter shook his head. "Besides the strain on the marriage, they're spending a fortune on dry cleaning. He has to keep extra underwear in the car, in case he drives by a suggestive billboard."

  "Yikes." Fanny snapped off the audio feed from the room and handed the Diddle's iFile back to Peter. "I agree with your assessment. He should meet with Dr. Gail for an intensive mental screening. Sexual background, relationship with Mom and Dad, tests for anxiety, depression, the usual. Also, let's get someone to clean up the Exam Room. He managed to spurt through his pants."

  Peter nodded. "Should we put Mr. Diddle in rubber underwear until his treatment is finished?"

  Fanny winced at the mess and nodded. "Yeah. Plus a condom. Not only is he quick on the trigger, but his distance is exemplary. Anything else?"

  "A report from the field. Our buddy Dick Ouad has been spotted on several occasions cozying up to Vera Badlei."

  "Oh for—" Fanny rolled her eyes. Dick Ouad, candidate for Center City mayor, had adopted as the main part of his campaign running "filth" like the Siemann Institute out of town, also the objective of Vera Badlei, Director of the Purity Foundation. His platform and the Foundation's money could spell yet another major annoyance for the Institute. "Tell Jack to keep monitoring the situation. You and I should have a strategy meeting with Hoyt soon."

  "I'm on it."

  Fanny took an indulgent few seconds to watch Peter walk away from her, wishing his regulation lab coat was shorter, because under it he had one of the world's finest asses. She'd like to see what he'd do if during one of their private conferences she stripped and bent over an iCliner.

  But that would have to remain a private fantasy, to be relieved only at home, or in the Masturbation Break Room. The Institute's CEO Hoyt Siemann, prided himself on running a squeaky clean organization devoted to the cause of equal opportunity satisfying sex, but it had to remain strictly professional. Employees couldn't date, ever. And therepy with the clients could never, ever be personal. Still helping people overcome their sexual dysfunctions made the workers at the Institute horny on a regular basis, and Hoyt was smart enough to address that problem by providing a private room equipped with all the latest toys where they could relieve their frustrations solo.

  Fanny used the room daily, sometimes more than once. And Peter was usually who she imagined when she relieved herself using one of the hyperstimulating machines or electro-vibrators. Once, on her way to the Break Room, she'd caught Peter coming out, and he'd almost looked a little rumpled. Not quite, but close.

  Just thinking about it made her tingle. When she entered the room after he left, she couldn’t help but wonder what he'd used. The Auto Suck? The Robo Stroker? Or maybe the Cyber Doll, which could be programmed to look like anyone.

  Had he programmed the doll to look like Fanny? Because that's what Fanny had done, turning it into a virtual Peter, riding it harder than any Triple Crown winning jockey.

  Alas, that would be as close as she'd ever get to the real Peter. Besides the no dating rule, Fanny was also Peter's boss. Even the whiff of a sexual harassment scandal could add fuel to Dick Ouad's fire. And Fanny could never live with herself if she endangered all the good work at Siemann. They helped those who, in many cases, were so distraught they considered suicide. The clinic, quite literally saved hundreds of lives, and improved the lives and relationships of tens of thousands of others.

  Fanny strode back through the control room and across the short hallway leading to the other circular building at this end of the Institute, which housed the Executive Offices—hers, Peter's and Hoyt's—plus the Cafeteria, Fitness and Health Centers, and the Break Room, which had a red light over the door, meaning it was occupied.

  Peter?

  Fanny felt her nipples tighten at the thought of watching him as he masturbated. It made her acutely aware that she needed a session herself. After a quick release she could get back to work. If the Break Room was occupied, she'd have a quickie solo session elsewhere.

  She closed the door to her beloved office, ultra-professional, state of the iArt, but decorated on her instruction in scarlet and b
lack. Very sexy.

  Fanny sat at her desk, shifting her bottom to find the right spot in her leather executive iStim Chair, and then set the dial to 6.

  The chair immediately began to vibrate, the ridge in the center rising up under the leather for her to grind her clitoris against. She gasped, the pleasure instant and intense as she closed her eyes and thought of Peter. This wouldn't take long at all. Just a few more seconds and…

  "Fanny, call on line four." The Control Room Coordinator, Billie Joe Hevvin, came through on Fanny's iSet in a low voice. "It's Mr. Siemann."

  Fanny snapped out of her Peter fantasy and immediately turned off the chair. As Executive Director, she didn't want to get caught masturbating outside of designated areas and break times, especially by the owner of the Institute. Catching her breath she said, "Thanks, BJ. Put him through."

  "Fanny?" Hoyt's voice boomed through her iSet. "How are you?"

  Soaking wet and frustrated, Fanny thought. But she managed to say, "I'm doing very well, considering."

  "Ah, you must mean the protestors."

  Fanny actually was referring to her throbbing nether regions, but she said, "Yes."

  "Prudes are unhappy, so they wish to make others unhappy as well. Pain divided is pain shared."

  "And joy shared is joy multiplied," Fanny said. It was the Institute's unofficial motto.

  "Exactly. Now I have a special job for you and Peter. A girl. She's from a prominent family, recently engaged, and in serious trouble. Naturally, I want my best people on this."

  "Of course, Mr. Hoyt."

  Fanny continued to squirm in her seat, and she had to press a palm against herself to stop wiggling. That only made things worse. She began to rub herself, feeling the moan rise up in her throat.

  "I knew I could count on you. B.J. has her on line two right now."

  Right now? Dammit! Fanny's release would have to wait. She removed her hand and crossed her legs.

  "Of course, Mr. Hoyt. I'll get on it right away."

  The iSet switched calls.

  "Um... is this Fanny Loober?"

  Fanny winced, thinking she should marry the first guy who asked her just so she could lose her last name. "It's pronounced Loy-ber. Can I help you?"

  "Gosh, I hope you can." The voice was high, very feminine and breathless. "I could use all the help I can get. My name is Chastity. Chastity Zoffal."

  Fanny sat back in her chair, forcing away her horniness. "Hi, Chastity. What's the problem?"

  "My fiancé, Shay, and I are on our honeymoon in Center City. We're not married yet, we're doing it sort of backwards. That was Shay's idea." She giggled, a musical cascade. "I insisted we wait for the honeymoon to, you know, do it. And, well, I'm not sure, but... I don't think it's very good."

  "You're not sure?"

  "No." Chastity sighed. "Shay is my first. You probably think that's pretty crazy, given that I'm twenty-one."

  "No, no, not at all." She tried to picture Chastity, based on the sound of her voice, and came up with her great-grandmother's favorite actress, Marilyn Monroe. "Losing your virginity is a very personal choice."

  "Well, I mean I never really got the chance before, since I was home-schooled back in Montana. I didn't even see any men except the workers on our ranch. And they knew if they touched me, Daddy would blow off their balls. So they never did." Her sweet voice became distinctly wistful. "And now that I'm trying, I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

  "In a healthy sexual relationship, both partners have to take responsibility for each other's pleasure."

  "Can you help us, Fanny?"

  "I'm sure we can help you, Chastity. Why don't you and Shay come in for a consultation?"

  "Oh, see, that's the problem." Chastity's voice dropped nearly to a whisper, making Fanny turn up the iVolume. "He doesn't know I'm talking to you. I told him we should go see you, and he got very, very angry. So I was thinking maybe I could come by myself and learn things from you, then go back and teach him?"

  Fanny frowned. This was a common problem. "We work with couples, Chastity. Especially if you're a committed couple, it's very important to be seen together."

  "Oh gosh. That won't work. Unless you come kidnap him." She giggled again.

  "If that's okay with you, we'll do that." Fanny glanced at her iWatch. "We can be there in twenty minutes."

  "Wait, what? Are you serious? You'll come here to get us?"

  "Standard procedure. Men can be reluctant to admit they're part of the problem. But I assure you, in the ten years I've been here, every single one of the male subjects we've enrolled without consent has left totally happy he'd come in for treatment."

  "Really?" Chastity sounded so hopeful that Fanny smiled. This was the best part of the job, restoring optimism to people who thought they were doomed to bad sex for the rest of their lives.

  "Really."

  "Oh my gosh, then come on over. We're at the Hotel Cosmo, room 513. I'll keep Shay here until you arrive."

  "We'll be right there." Fanny called Peter on her iPhone286. "Forcer Six-Two at the Cosmo, situation post-virgo, you free?"

  "No. But my rates are very reasonable."

  Sometimes Peter thought he was funny.

  "I'll have the Vulvo at the front door in ten."

  Exactly ten minutes later, she pulled the specially designed triangular car up to the front of the Institute at the moment Peter stepped through the door, having shed his white lab coat for the black leather jacket and dark glasses they wore for hostile pick-ups. After so many years seeing him dressed like that, he could still get her juices flowing. And of course, her juices were already flowing, from her unfinished business in her office.

  Of course Peter was implacable, as always, features somber, not seeming to notice the women gaping after him on the street. She sometimes wondered if he were gay, a robot, or a gay robot. But it didn't stop her wanting him.

  At the edge of Institute property, the Vulvo gliding smoothly a few inches off the corroded road surface, Fanny and Peter both frowned. Ouad had been at it again. Protesters lined the street, chanting and waving placards.

  Rid Center City of the Sin-stitute!

  A Vote for Dick Ouad is a Vote For Decency!

  Macy's Shoes 50% Off!

  "That's outrageous," Peter said.

  Fanny shrugged. "Macy's always has a sale this time of year."

  "You know what I mean, Fanny. The protestors. What sort of person do you have to be to protest against orgasms?"

  "Those who don't have any."

  Since Ouad's Anti-Siemann campaign began, B.J. had reported calls pouring in from outraged citizens who believed all the stuff Dick spouted. Peter and Fanny had set straight as many as they could about the Institute's mission—and gotten several new clients in the process, which only confirmed Hoyt Siemann's theory that angry, overwrought people needed more and better sex.

  But this kind of demonstration was bad for the Institute, and if Dick was elected, he could cause big trouble. Rumors swirled through Center City that he had mob connections, and he certainly had friends in Washington, given that his brother, Zherk was a U.S. Senator.

  In troubled silence, she and Peter arrived at Hotel Cosmo and exited the Vulvo in their black leather, Fanny tossing the keys to an attendant. "Forcer Six-Two, half hour max. You know what to do."

  The attendant saluted with the hand carrying the keys, blinking painfully when one poked him in the eye. "Yes, Ms. Loober."

  "Loy-ber." Fanny brushed past him, Peter half a step behind. They strode through the lobby, guests parting for them with murmurs and soft exclamations. The hotel manager met them at the elevator he'd held for them and nodded somberly. This wasn't the first Six-Two at the Cosmo.

  They rode up to the 5th floor, and Fanny tried to stop thinking about sex and focus on the job ahead. Forcers could be dangerous business. Both Peter and Fanny were black belts in the ancient art of Kikyo Bawz, both wore tasers, cuffs, riding crops, and syringes of powerful paralyzers on their iB
elts. But they never knew what they'd be up against.

  At their target suite, 513, they drew their tasers and each took one side of the door.

  "Stage one, proceed."

  Peter reached to knock. They could have called it knocking instead of stage one, but that wasn't nearly as cool.

  "Who is it?" Chastity's breathless voice, dripping innocence.

  "Bonebury and Leuber, the Sexperts, open up!"

  "Of course." As the door opened, they leaped around, tasers in front of them, ready to fire.

  Neither of them fired.

  Neither of them even moved.

  Chastity.

  Gorgeous didn't begin to do it.

  Sexy was not even close.

  Chastity was perfect. Young. Blond. Stunning. Wearing a clingy sundress that showed every curve of an hourglass body.

  "Wow," Peter said, his voice cracking.

  Fanny glanced at him, then did a double-take. Her stoic ice-bound partner was still in a crouch, taser still drawn, jaw dangling open, the front of his pants straining with an obvious and sizeable erection.

  So much for the gay robot.

  Fanny kicked him.

  "Hello, Chastity. I'm Fanny, this is Peter."

  "I'm Peter," Peter said. "You're stunning."

  "No, I'm Chastity."

  "Hi, Chastity. I'm Peter."

  Seriously? Chastity was gorgeous, no doubt, but Fanny put in hours every week at the gym and could turn heads when she dressed up. Yet Peter never acted like a lovesick idiot around her.

  Then again, Peter had only seen her in work clothes. She wondered how he'd react if she'd been wearing Chastity's outfit.

  Or nothing at all.

  "You're very handsome, Peter," Chastity said.

  "Hi, I'm Peter."

  Chastity giggled. Fanny felt like gagging. She gestured into the room. "Is Shay inside?"

  "He's watching the iScreen. Can I help you in any way?"

  "No, ma'am. We're professionals." Peter's brain had apparently rebooted. "Just step aside and let us do our job."