by KC Decker
The second time he did it, was no accident. He waited for me to object to the placement of his hand, and when I didn’t, his fingers crawled closer to the inside of my thigh. The fact that he is two seconds away from sliding his hand inside of the leg of my shorts has my insides fluttering like crazy.
“Wes,”
“Yes, gorgeous?”
“Get your hand off of me.”
He pulls it away with a mumbled apology and then makes small talk about how our art should be used as the next Rorschach ink-blot tests. My body is aching to be touched, I even briefly consider putting his hand back on my thigh, but it’s not him that I want touching me.
The thought of someone, namely Sutton, touching my freshly bare vagina with his fingers, makes my whole body heat up and dampens my panties. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the newly experienced smoothness down below, but I am buzzing with something intensely provocative.
“I just didn’t want you to get in trouble, that’s all,” I lie. “We are not supposed to touch here.”
“What if that’s all I think about?” he asks, leaning in slightly to make sure I am the only one to hear him.
“All you think about is touching me?”
“Not just touching,” he whispers.
“What else?” I ask. I’m probably going to go to hell for this, but his words are completely mesmerizing me, and I want to hear more. Even though he is not who I want to hear them from, I want to know what a man fantasizes about.
“Where should I start? First of all, I got hard when I heard you had your pussy waxed.” I gasp at his crude language, and only after that do I glare over at my friends.
“That made you hard?” I whisper back, it must not take much to get an erection.
“It made me want to crawl between your legs and lick your pussy all night.” I freeze for a second. One, that sounds gross, why would he want to do that? And two, he said pussy twice inside of one minute.
“Hey, Lovebirds! What are you two whispering about?” Tracy asks—or sings, whatever. There is also a sharpness to her question and a fire in her eyes that reminds me about her little crush on Wes. Well, she can have him—because I’m setting my sights higher.
I want Sutton to think of me and get hard like Wes does. And when I think of Sutton licking my pussy, I damn near flood the chair. That particular thought, no matter how disgusting it sounded at first, is going to be my masturbatory fodder for months to come—if not years.
“We were just talking about how Mercy’s melted crayons ended up looking like a sunflower. Don’t you think? Let’s see yours, Tracy.” He smiles back at me and then gives his full attention to the rest of the group.
***
For now, Lyla and I still share a room because there is not another available bed on the unit. Before her Benzos drag her under, I want to talk. I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.
“Lyla, if you wanted to make a guy’s penis hard, what would you do?” I ask in a whisper. She flips over and looks at me through the dark. She has tried to talk to me about this kind of stuff for months, it’s only now that I’m interested.
“What would I do? I’d probably dress sexy and talk dirty. Why, my little apprentice?”
“I can’t stop thinking about Sutton. I want him to touch me and do things to me, but I can’t be sure he is attracted to me.”
“Are you crazy? All men are attracted to you.”
“I’ve never even seen a penis in real life, let alone an erect one.”
“Mercy, repeat after me.”
“Ok.”
“Cock, dick, pecker, knob, Johnson, boner, chub, hard-on.” Instead of repeating her words, I laugh into my pillow.
“Nobody says penis or vagina or erection—they say cock, pussy, and wood. You can’t be so technical if you ever want someone to fuck you. Plus, Wes would be more than willing to show you his dick in any state.”
“I like Wes, but he is not who I want to be with.”
“I think he’d be ok with teaching you a few things with no strings attached,” she snorts. “As far as Sutton goes, he may want to have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but he will never act on it because it’s taboo, he’s your doctor.”
“I don’t want him to be my doctor, I want him to teach me everything there is to know about se—I mean, fucking.”
“Then, you will have to appeal to him as a man, not as your doctor.”
“How?”
“Just like I said, dress sexy and talk dirty. You should wear a short skirt to your session tomorrow and skip the panties.”
“I could never do that.”
“You couldn’t flash him your pussy, but you want him to stick his giant cock in it?”
“LADIES, GOODNIGHT!” one of the night nurses hisses into our room.
“You should at least let, Wes finger you,” she whispers.
“Oh my God, stop talking about, Wes.”
“Let’s see what Matty and V think tomorrow, but Wes is hot…and Sutton is unattainable. Every woman in this hospital wants to bang, Sutton. He is used to batting women away like flies, don’t torture yourself.”
Chapter 14
When I get to Sutton’s office for my session, I plop down onto the couch. Sutton tosses me a bag of cinnamon candies, and then walks around his desk and sits down next to me. He hasn’t been consistent with the candy, in fact, it’s been a while since he had them at all. This small detail has me worried.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” his voice sounds pained. Now I am definitely on high alert.
“Fine. What’s going on?”
“I want to ask you about something that has never been noted in your charts over here, either juvenile or adult.”
“You are scaring me, and you look like you are about to break open—just tell me what’s going on.”
“Mercy, were you ever sexually abused as a child?” He looks like he wants to scoop me up and rock me to sleep. What the heck?
“Of course not! Remember? Demonic possession, paranoid schizophrenia…that’s plenty to work with, right? Plus, you keep going on and on about my parents being victims too—now you think they sexually abused me? Why do you assume that?”
“I’ve been looking over some of your medical files from St. Vincent’s and noticed something that doesn’t sit well with me. It’s just that, you were awfully young to present with an absence of hymenal tissue.”
“I hope my future husband won’t be disappointed, the ole hymen is quite a prize, right doc?”
“You don’t recall any type of sexual abuse at all?”
“No.”
“Then, I have another question. Are you open to trying hypnosis?” He gently places his palm on my thigh before evidently getting burned by my flesh and yanking his hand back.
“To, like…relax? We already have a group for guided meditation…why do you want to hypnotize me?”
“I wouldn’t do it, I know my strengths, and that’s not one of them. I would have a colleague of mine step in—but only if you are open to it. It’s helpful because it can sometimes help with repressed memories, or help flush out specific traumatic events.”
“Sounds pretty soul-baring.”
“It can be.”
“Why am I the only one bearing my soul?”
“Because you are my patient.”
“What if I want to be your friend too?”
He smiles broadly, and some of the tightness in his face melts away before he says, “I absolutely consider you my friend.”
“Then, I’ll try hypnosis, but I’m going to need you to open up to me a little too.”
“Mercy, that’s not—”
“Ok, we can skip the hypnosis then. I’m not a carnival exhibit, and if this little friendship only goes one way, then I’m out. I have a lot to learn about men before I’m sprung from this joint, and it would be cruel to ask Matty…so I’d like to ask you. But if you are not comfortable with that, I’ll ask Wes, he sure is willing
enough.”
“First, why do you bring up Wes all the time?”
“Because Wes awakens a lot of curiosities that I have, and lately, I’ve been feeling awfully naive when it comes to my sexuality.” I don’t mention that he awakens the lion's share of my curiosities, but I need to feel him out a little more. Lyla is right, he does have to bat women away—I’ve seen him do it, but even with the whole transference thing, I’ve never gotten the sense that he is batting me away.
My friends speak of him as though he were a consummate professional. He has never touched any of them, and he doesn’t get jealous if they talk about Wes. If I really think about it—which I do, a lot, he is very different with me.
“I will absolutely help you with those curiosities, and try to assist you while you navigate the field of your sexuality, but I have to be careful not to cross the line.”
“Then tell me when you feel like you are approaching that line, instead of dismissing me altogether, before I’ve even opened my mouth.”
“I’m sorry. You are absolutely right. We can talk about anything you want as long as I can tell you when I’m afraid to cross the line,” he says with a sigh of acceptance, as though he were caught in a spider’s web, and getting more stuck the more he struggles.
“That’s better. Now tell me about hard-ons. What makes you get one? How long does it last? What does it feel like? All that stuff.” My transition is not a smooth one, but this is part of me feeling him out—figuratively. I want to see how far off track he will go with me.
“I feel like I should speak generally here, and not as though I am answering for myself as a guy, but here goes. In order for a man to make love to a woman, his penis needs to be hard—”
“I know all that, skip to the good stuff.”
“It’s all good stuff, Mercy,” he says through a hundred-watt grin.
“What makes you get one? What do you think about when you have one? How do you get rid of it?”
“Again, speaking generally here, a guy typically gets several erections a day…often more. They can be from seeing something or someone they find sexy, or thinking about something sexy—”
“What would be an example of something sexy you would think about?”
“An example would be thinking about someone doing something sexual to you. Or thinking about doing something sexual to someone else.”
“Kissing?”
“Sure.”
“Looking at or touching breasts? I mean, tits?”
“Yes, both.”
“What about licking someone’s…pussy?”
“Yes, that would do it too.”
“What is the male equivalent? Someone licking your dick?” I purposely ask about his dick, not just any guy’s dick.
“Licking it, putting it in their mouth, sucking it—”
“Do guys like that?”
“Yes, very much. It feels good, the same as having your pussy licked.” Oh crap, he did the same thing. He said your pussy, not someone’s pussy.
“Wes told me he wanted to do that to me.”
“Wes better keep his tongue inside of his bold mouth.”
“Would that bother you if Wes licked my pussy?”
“Yes, quite a bit.”
“Why? Because he is a fellow patient or because you don’t want anyone to do that to me.”
“Both.”
“You said it feels good, why wouldn’t you want me to experience that?”
“I don’t want just anyone to have you like that.”
“That’s mean, Sutton.”
“It’s not mean—maybe selfish, but not mean.”
“Do you know I’m almost twenty-one, and I’ve never been kissed?”
“That does not mean you should give that part of yourself lightly.” He is so open and honest; it’s encouraging me to push him even harder.
“Have you ever thought about kissing me?”
“As your doctor? No. As a man? Yes. But my official answer to that question is, no, you are my patient.”
“What about someday, when I’m not your patient?”
“I’ve actually thought about that a lot. The thing is, I don’t trust anyone else with your care. You were grossly mismanaged from the start, and I can’t bear the thought of someone else taking over.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
“Yes.”
“Have I ever made your dick hard?”
“As your doctor, no.”
“As a man?”
“Yes.”
***
I can’t get to my friends fast enough. There is so much to talk about, and I feel like I need to spit it all out now, before the songbird, Tracy comes over. She is straddling the friendship group, half in and half out, but I don’t trust her with this Sutton stuff—especially because she feels some sort of way about Wes’ little crush on me.
Matty, Lyla, and Veronica listen to me spill my guts with their forgotten books left open on their laps, and their mouths left open to catch flies. When I finish, there is a collective gasp, and then like mice scurrying after crumbs, they all start talking at once.
Lyla suggests a code name, so we can speak sort of freely about it, and it’s Veronica that dubs the Sutton situation Bedlam. But if you ask me, that doesn’t sound very covert or stealthy. If anything, it’s going to raise suspicions, but whatever.
Everyone has an opinion about how I should play it, ranging from ignoring Sutton and sitting on Wes’ face, to an all-out offensive assault on Sutton.
Matty says jealousy is the fastest way to get to him. Lyla and Veronica insist I take the route of straight-up vixen. I myself, have issues with both. Namely, because I don’t want to use Wes, and I can absolutely not conceive of being any bolder with Sutton than I already have been. Seriously, just using the terms, pussy, dick, and hard-on almost turned me to a slab of virgin stone.
“Guys, let’s not forget that my meds kept all these feelings at bay until now. I can’t go from throwing up in my mouth at the thought of being naked with a guy to suddenly becoming a harlot. Is that an acceptable term, harlot?”
“You don’t have to be a harlot for Wes, and he can drive the ship, you can sit back and be all pure and virginal,” Matty explains.
“You don’t have to be a harlot for Sutton either, in fact, playing it coy and subtle will work better anyway,” Lyla states, directly to Matty
“How about that? A little reverse psychology on the doctor himself. Seriously, you need to approach it as your sweet, innocent self—but with a hearty dose of sex kitten. We’ll coach you. It will be perfect.” Veronica may be grossly overestimating my sex kitten proficiency, but she makes up for it with her confidence in her coaching abilities.
“I can’t get away from my innocence, that is a fact, and I’m sure Sutton wants a woman—not a girl.”
“Don’t worry, Mercy, we will be playing up the fact that you are a woman, and he’s already shown interest, so trust me.” Lyla’s confidence is at a level ten, as well. “First things first though, no more dowdy sweatshirts and workout pants.”
“What about my scrubs?”
“Nope.”
“So, I can’t be comfortable anymore?”
“Absolutely not. Do you think women wear high heels and thong underwear because they are comfortable?”
“I’ve got to get to my session with my shrink” Matty says as he rises from the couch and heads to Sutton’s office. Within a minute, Wes notices the seat vacancy and saunters over.
“Hey, Mercy. Want to join me in a rousing game of checkers?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say as I decide to pepper in a little of Matty’s advice too. I can be friends with Wes, and if Sutton gets a little jealous, then that’s just fine.
The two of us make our way to the game table under the watchful eye of Tracy. She is developing some angry feelings toward me and has not been hanging out with us much. I would like to convey to her that I am not interested in Wes besides looking at him, but
I’m not sure it would temper her dislike of me.
“What do you think of Tracy?” I ask. Maybe if he is interested in her as a backup option, I can direct him in her direction.
“I think I’d like her better with a gag in her mouth. Why do you ask?”
“She likes you.”
“Oh, I know. Problem is, I don’t care.”
“You are not interested in her at least a little bit?”
“No, I’m not. Did you miss the memo? I’m interested in you,” he says pointedly. Dang, I’m not used to someone being so forward…or so interested.
“So, here’s the thing about that. I think you are completely charming and super good looking, but I’m a little hung-up on someone on the outside. I feel like I should just throw that out there.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t hang out in here.”
“I’m not saying we can’t hang out; I just want to be honest with you,” I explain. He gives me a wolfish grin in response.
“And I appreciate that,” he says as he jumps two of my checkers. Somehow, the way he says it doesn’t really convey his appreciation, it’s more like he will take it under advisement.
“Are you going to watch the football game on Monday night?” I ask as I slide my checker, and immediately get jumped by his. Damn, I need to start paying attention.
“I haven’t thought about it, are you?”
“No, we are throwing Matty a birthday party—he doesn’t know, so don’t say anything.”
“Will there be cake?”
“I kinda doubt it.”
“What about pie? I’d love to eat some cherry pie.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he slides a checker into place. “King me, Cherry.”
“Why do I get the impression you are not talking about dessert?”
“Because I’m not.”
“Ok, weirdo. So, are you coming to the party? Or watching lame football with the dudes?”
“Oh, I’m coming to the party,” he says assertively, then adds, “Listen, if I could score a birthday cake, would you do something for me?”