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think that was actually going to work. The beast was too strong, and while I'd been feeding it with dildo-induced orgasms and wild fantasy as often as I could find a moment alone, it wasn't enough. Besides, how would our marriage survive without intimacy?
    I didn't know the answers, but I did know one thing. I needed cock. Big cock, small cock, fat cock, thin cock… it didn't matter. If I didn't get fucked and fast, I was going to explode and not in a way I would feel good about.
    I was fidgeting in my seat, the metal chair squeaking under the bare skin on the backs of my thighs and the feet scraping across the floor enough to garner attention from the two women seated at the end of my aisle. They were both attractive enough, and as I imagined the grope of their hungry hands all over my body, their probing fingers and anxious mouths, chills of need pricked beneath my skin. I needed to get off.
    I glanced toward the door at the back of the room and then the clock. There was no strict time limit on meetings, at least that's what they'd told us on the phone. Maybe I could skip out early, hook up with someone at the bar I'd seen two blocks up the street and get home before Kenny even knew the difference. I looked at the door again, and then I heard the rising chatter of the group reciting their mantra together as they yielded control of their desires to a higher power and asked for that power to grant them the strength to carry on another day.
    And then they were breaking, mingling together near the refreshment table while I sat glued to my chair and tried to figure out what my next move should be. Would I have time to hit that bar on the way home, get off in the bathroom stall and soothe the writhing, screaming, hungry beast inside me? The itch in my blood was unbearable, and I was just about to break for the door when a deep, masculine voice reached out from my left.
    "Cream and two sugars," he said. "I'm never wrong, but there's a first time for everything."
    I glanced up and over my shoulder. The man in the grey suit stood beside my chair. He was holding two steaming Styrofoam cups in his hands, one of them extended toward me.
    I reached out reluctantly, taking the cup of coffee from him. "Cream and two sugars," I nodded and lifted it to my lips. Bittersweet warmth touched my tastebuds, and while it wasn't exactly the tastiest cup of coffee I'd ever had, his unique gift to guess my preference intrigued me. "That's quite a talent you've got."
    "I'm a people person," he said. "A salesman, actually. I make it my business to know what people need before they even know they need it. Unfortunately, I can't control the awfulness of this coffee, but hopefully the gesture was well received." He paused for a second and then held his hand out to me. "Frank," he said.
    "Lila."
    The warmth of his skin only seemed to intensify the buzz of electric hunger humming through my body, and though there had to be some strange psychological connection, the fact that he reminded me of my father-in-law made that connection feel stronger.
    His smile was casually seductive, a grinning tiger hiding between the shadowy fronds in a dangerous jungle. I wondered, as I lifted my head to meet his gaze, just how accurate his gift really was. Could he sense how badly I needed to be fucked, or was I just in such bad shape that I was willing to read every sign as a possible come on.
    "Grace nudged me in your direction, mentioned you might be looking for a sponsor."
    "A sponsor," I nodded. "Right. I'm still so new to all of this. What exactly does a sponsor do?"
    "Provide support in times of need, an ear when no one else seems to understand what you're going through, a shoulder…"
    I took another tentative sip of the coffee in my cup, and my face must have shown just how bitter it tasted because Frank's smile widened and he stepped back to look over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. "Would you like to come sit down and have a cup of coffee with me? There's a