by Ws Greer
“I’m okay with it because it’s what I want to do,” I reply. “It’s my choice. If I was a man, you wouldn’t even be asking me about this. You'd say ‘boys will be boys,’ or congratulate me on being a real ladies man. The word promiscuous is only thrown around when the subject is a woman. I’m tired of the double standard, and just because I don’t want to settle down right now doesn't mean I don’t want to have sex and experience pleasure. I want to experience it how and when I choose, with whom I choose, and I will not stand for anyone’s judgment. Not even yours.”
My mom sighs. I can see the pain on her face, knowing that her daughter is a grown woman. I guess that could be difficult for a parent. Regardless of how hard it might be for her to understand that I’m a grown up, she has no choice in the matter. She has to understand, and she has to respect it. Otherwise, there's nothing left for us to talk about, and I’m okay with that.
After a moment of silence that feels like it lasts forever, my mother giggles. “I only came up here because I thought I left my reading glasses. I didn’t expect this.” Both of us chuckle before she continues. “I’m going to do my best to let you live your life, Tessa. I don’t want our relationship to fall apart over our differences, and I’m sorry if I made you feel bad about yourself. I would never do that intentionally, contrary to what you might believe. You're my only daughter, and I love you dearly.”
“I love you, Mom,” I reply, and to my complete and utter surprise, my mother walks over and pulls me into a hug. I honestly can't remember the last time we did this, so it feels brand new. If only I had told her how she made me feel a long time ago, I may have not even dated Brandon.
I don’t expect her to change overnight. I know we’re from two different generations, and we view things completely differently, but I realize now that it’s my responsibility to make sure people respect me, including my parents. I can't wait around for the moment she realizes how terrible she’s being.
People get stuck in their ways, and sometimes the only way to break them out of it is to be honest with them. We have to speak truth to power. Sometimes the conversation is difficult, but the hard conversations are usually the ones we need to have the most. I, for one, am glad I spoke up, and I’ll never allow anyone to disrespect me ever again.
Hazard Lights
Chapter Twenty-Seven
~ Malcolm ~
What a week it has been. As I prepare for another session with Tessa Milton, glancing at my notes, going over them meticulously, I have trouble focusing because my mind is elsewhere. I’m distracted, which I hate, especially right before I have a patient step into my office. My patients mean the world to me, and they deserve my best effort and focused attention. They don't have time to wait for me to get over whatever speed bumps my life is driving over. However, when Ava is the speed bump, slowing down is an absolute requirement that can't be ignored without catastrophic consequences.
I’ve only seen Ava once since we fucked in my office. We had dinner in a crowded restaurant in downtown Dover, and she kept asking me what was wrong. I didn’t really have an answer, at least not one I could tell her. Ever since she left my office, I keep thinking about what she said as she walked out after fucking on my desk.
It’s so good to know I can always coax that out of you.
Her words were like a splash of ice water over my sleeping face. I've always known Ava was manipulative, but I went along with it because I love fucking her and tying her up. I’m obsessed with watching her come, so I’d just roll with the punches.
This time, though, I was much more affected by it. Hearing her say it out loud, admitting to trying to influence and control me, hit me somewhere deep. All I can think of now is how she’s trying to control me all the time. Every text. Every time we fuck. Every conversation is a ploy to manipulate me into doing what she wants. I see everything she does as a scheme to keep me where she wants me.
A typical guy would think I shouldn’t be complaining about this. I have a woman who wants me to fuck her all the time. What’s to hate? The only problem is I’m not typical. To me, this is much deeper than just having sex. This is emotional control and manipulation, the exact type of thing I advise my patients to recognize and never to allow.
The problem I’m struggling with at this exact moment is a symptom of avoiding Ava. She’s been texting, and I’ve been ignoring her. I’ll respond when I have time, but I haven’t allowed myself to see her. I’m afraid my hunger for fucking her will take over if I’m in her presence, and now I’m like an addict in need of a fix.
I feel it in my bones. My body cries out for her, and my cock feels like it might explode if I don't have her soon, so when Keisha calls for me over the intercom, it’s a struggle to lift myself out of my chair and walk to the door. I have to focus on Tessa. The ground doesn't feel solid beneath my feet when I walk to the door, but I make it there, and that’s a good start. I’ve got this. One step at a time.
“Good evening, Tessa,,” I say, when I open the door. My last patient of the evening steps into the room, shaking my hand with a newfound grip in her fingers. In fact, everything about Tessa seems new. She’s walking straighter and smiling brighter. Her confidence seems sky high today, and it radiates off of her like she’s holding the sun in her pocket. It seems one of us had a better week than the other.
“Good evening, Dr. Colson,” she says as she sits down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. She’s sporting a sultry black dress today, which is interesting because it’s a little on the nippy side this evening. Tessa doesn't seem to care. Her legs are like a mannequin, long and smooth, and given the state I’m in today, it takes real focus to keep my eyes on her face. Tessa has always been attractive, but today is next level. The non-therapist part of me wants to stand up and applaud her for an astounding glow up.
“You seem well,” I say. It’s less of a greeting, and more of a method of stalling so I can get my shit together.
“I am well,” Tessa replies, smiling wide. “I've had an interesting week, to say the least.”
“Okay. Go ahead and fill me in.”
“Well, this has been the most carefree week of my life,” Tessa begins. Her eyes seem to float towards the ceiling as she remembers everything she went through. “I went on a few dates, mostly bad ones, but that’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” Tessa answers quickly. “It was interesting to see everything from a different perspective, and it was a good reminder that there are a lot of shitty guys out there. More importantly, I was able to narrow down a list of traits I’m attracted to, and I realized what was missing from my relationship with Brandon, not to mention every relationship I’ve been in my whole life.”
“Wow. All that in one week, huh? Well, I’m interested in hearing what you figured out,” I say, feeling more like myself the longer the session goes on. “So, what was missing?”
“Now that I realize what it is, it seems so simple,” Tessa answers. “It’s lust.”
“That’s an interesting answer. How'd you come to that conclusion?”
“Last night, I got drunk and had sex in the lobby of my father’s clinic with a complete stranger who was on a break from his girlfriend.”
My eyes instantly bulge for a split second, but I’m able to fix them before Tessa notices. It’s not judgement, just surprise.
“It was good, too,” Tessa goes on. “He was, umm… well endowed, and definitely knew what he was doing, but it was less about that and more about how hot it was. It was lustful, and when I realized it in the moment, I knew that what I was feeling was completely foreign to me. Brandon and I never had that, even in the beginning. It wasn’t there on the other dates I’d had earlier in the week either. But this guy, Will, he was able to make me feel hot. I felt wanted, and I craved him. I liked that it was naughty, passionate, and wrong. It was like I was feeling something lustful for the first time, and now I know I need it in my relationships. Does that sound crazy?”
“Ab
solutely not. That’s a great observation,” I agree with a nod and smile. “I think you're right. Lust is a word that’s used to describe something as if it’s wrong or taboo. People often say, ‘You're in lust, not love,” as if lust is something that should be forgotten about, grown out of, or powered through, instead of enjoyed and used.
“When you feel lust for someone, that doesn't mean that what you're feeling is wrong, or that you’ll never be able to add love into the equation. In fact, I would say the problem most relationships have is that as they start to feel love, they decide to leave lust behind, mistakenly disregarding it as some school-age notion that’s immature. It’s not immature, and it shouldn't be shed like a snake's skin to be replaced by something more mature.
“Lust is a great thing to feel. It fuels passion, and in my profession, I see a lot of passionless relationships who can't figure out why it’s not hot in the bedroom anymore, and the answer is that they’ve left lust behind. They disregard it with sayings like, ‘We’re not teenagers anymore,’ or mentions of how long they've been married. But lust can and should last a lifetime. Once you decide to settle down, you should learn to harness it and preserve it for your partner, not let it go. You mix it with your love. While it’s harder to feel the older we get due to careers and families, it shouldn't be thrown out to make room for those things. It should be kept and used as often as our lives will allow. We should make time for lust, passion, and pleasure, no matter how old we get. I think you figured out something a lot of people go their entire lives never understanding. Good for you, Tessa.”
Tessa smiles like she’s proud of herself, and she should be. For someone who seemed so unsure of herself and what she wanted, she has come a long way in a short amount of time. If she can keep an open mind and stay on this path, Tessa will surely find happiness. It may not be immediate, but it definitely will come, and when it does, I believe it will last.
“Well, I appreciate the support, Dr. Colson,” Tessa says. She switches her legs to make herself more comfortable, planting both feet on the ground like she's bracing for an oncoming impact. “To my surprise, my mother showed her first signs of being supportive, too.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Your mother?”
“Yeah. After the sex in the clinic with Will, my mother walked in on us before we could even pull our pants up,” Tessa tells me, but she’s smiling as if she's unfazed by being caught by her judgemental mother. “You should’ve seen her face. She was beyond pissed off.”
“I’m sure that was uncomfortable.”
“It was, but I think it needed to happen. I ended up confronting her about everything, and she was surprisingly supportive of my opinion. She even hugged me, and I don’t think that would’ve happened if she didn’t walk in and force me to speak my truth.”
“Wow,” I exclaim. “No wonder you seem so different today. You don’t have the weight of your mother’s judgement on your back.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s still there,” Tessa jokes, behind a giggle. “She’s just going to keep that crap to herself from now on. At least I hope she is. It was great to hear her say she’s going to let me live my life and stop being so pushy. I guess all I can do is hope she’s true to her word. However, I did have a question for you after talking to her.”
“Perfect. That’s what I’m here for,” I reply, adjusting myself in my seat as I perk up at the thought of a challenge.
Before Tessa can ask her question, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Without looking at it, I already know who it is, and I grit my teeth together to focus on ignoring it. Apparently, I forgot to put the phone in my desk like I usually do. I was too distracted to remember. Fuck.
“Before she was able to get over herself and let me live my life,” Tessa says. “She kept talking to me about self respect. Like, because I slept with a guy I didn’t know, I have no self respect. What’s your opinion on that?”
“What’s your opinion on it?” I counter. It’s always good to know how the patient feels about something before I give my assessment, just to make sure they don't simply latch onto what I have to say.
“I’m not sure,” Tessa admits, shrugging. “I mean, I know my worth, but I guess I’ve always heard that people who sleep with random people don't respect themselves. It’s something society tells us all the time. I just don't know how the two relate to each other at all.”
“Well, people say a lot about things they don't really understand,” I reply, ignoring another buzz from my phone. “Self respect has nothing to do with sex or nudity. Self respect means making choices that make you happy. Being sexual has nothing to do with self respect. As long as you’re happy with your decisions—sleeping with people of your choosing, at a time of your choosing—you have self respect. It’s as simple as that. Any other definition of the phrase is subjective—the person using it defines it by their own judgements and standards. Self respect isn't something that can be defined by anyone other than yourself. That's why it’s called self respect.”
Another beautiful smile shows itself on Tessa’s face, and I can tell she's had a real awakening. Today, she seems like a whole new woman, and I’m proud of her for coming so far, and not being afraid to stand her ground. Breaking cycles created by parents is a very difficult thing to do, and Tessa seems to have managed to snap herself out of the cuffs that were placed on her wrists by her mother. I’m impressed.
“I agree,” Tessa says, smiling as her mouth speaks the words. “Well, now that it’s all said and done, I think I’m ready for whatever life throws my way. Sex, commitment, whatever. I’ve given absolutely zero thought to replacing Brandon, but I’m feeling open. If Judy Milton is able to stay out of my business, I think I’ll enjoy playing the field until I find someone special.”
“None of the men you spent time with this week will hit the jackpot, huh?” I ask playfully.
“Nah,” Tessa says. “Will was definitely good last night at the clinic, but I’m pretty sure my mother scared him off. Not to mention he was only on a break from his girlfriend. He’s probably stressed enough trying to keep her from finding out what we did.”
“So, you're just doing you,” I state. “No need to dive any deeper than that. Just do you, and whatever happens, happens. Your focus from here on out should be on whatever makes you happy. Combine that with what you told me about the importance of lust in a relationship, and I think sooner or later you're going to find yourself very happy.”
Tessa smiles her fullest smile of the evening as she looks at me. “I like the sound of that. Thank you, Dr. Colson.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~ Malcolm ~
Ava: I miss you.
Ava: Do you miss me?
Ava: Malcolm
Ava: How is work going today?
Ava: I wish I could see you
Ava: You’d answer me if you knew what I was doing to my pussy right now. If I keep it up, I’ll come all over my phone. You know I can make such a mess.
Ava: I’m much messier with you, though.
Ava: Malcolm.
Looking at my phone after Tessa leaves, I’m shocked by what I see. My phone vibrated so much, I didn't even realize how many times it had been. Jesus Christ, what has gotten into this woman?
I finish cleaning up the area where my patients sit by spraying Lysol all over the couch and pillow. It’s a disinfectant, to make sure no one ends up getting sick from having a session with me.
Once the couch is wiped down, I walk back over to my desk, setting my phone on the wood top and taking a seat in my chair. I click my computer and go to Tessa Milton’s file, where I input notes from today’s session. This won't be our last time seeing each other, but after the tremendous amount of progress Tessa made over the past few sessions, I think our time together is starting to wind down. She’s on track to be happier than most people who sit on my couch, so unless she wants to continue therapy even after she's in a relationship, we’ll be done soon.
After entering my notes for Tessa, I press
the button on the intercom to reach out to Keisha, who hasn't left yet. I assume she's finishing up her own notes for the day.
“Hey, Keisha, you still out there?” I ask, just as my phone buzzes again. Of course it’s Ava.
Ava: Malcolm, I want to see you. When can I?
“Yes, I’m here, Dr. Colson,” Keisha replies. My eyes stay glued to the message from Ava. “Just finishing up. Do you have anything else for me tonight?”
“No, you're good. Have a good night,” I reply. “And Keisha, thanks for everything you do. I appreciate you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Dr. Colson,” Keisha answers. “Have a good night.”
Once I know Keisha is gone, I pick my phone up off the table and call Ava. While it rings, I put the phone on speaker and set it down on the desk, leaning back in my chair, trying my best to relax.
“I missed you,” Ava says the second she's on the phone. “Can I meet you at the Black House?”
Thoughts of the Black House race around my head like NASCAR drivers, and my cock instantly stiffens. It’s been a while since I’ve had her down there, and I want it. If only Ava wasn't so… Ava. I lick my lips and force the images of the Black House to the back of my mind.
“No,” I answer firmly. “I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood for company tonight, Ava.”
There's only silence on the other end of the phone.
“And you can't text me like that when I’m seeing a patient,” I go on. “It makes me look very unprofessional. You know the rules.”