Passion Relapse

by Jack Fisher

  “I’d rather not speak to that, so I’ll just resist the urge to comment,” Peter said, still pacing. “Are you going somewhere with this, Mary?”

  “Bear with me, Peter, because I don’t think it was the intensity of that kiss that made it feel so different. I think it was the setup. Based on what you told me about your womanizing ways, it went like this… You got her intrigued, you got her in the mood then—once the blood started flowing in the right directions—you let her instincts do the rest. You let her set the pace and the program. Am I accurate so far?”

  “In the most basic sort of way? Yeah, I’d say so,” affirmed Peter.

  “I did something similar, but in reverse,” continued Mary. “I got the guy intrigued, I got him aroused, then once we agreed to do the deed, I took the initiative. I made sure I controlled the situation, from foreplay to climax to afterglow. That means if we didn’t know each other and just randomly hooked up, our methods would’ve complemented each other perfectly.”

  “I’d say that’s accurate, too. You think that’s why it felt strange? It was just so different?”

  “I don’t think so. Novelty alone only goes so far, especially for a couple of sex addicts. I think there was something deeper at work.”

  “Something else? Like what?”

  Peter stopped pacing and leaned on the wall near the fireplace. Mary took another sip of her coffee, still recalling that kiss. Her gaze shifted toward the window, where the storm continued to escalate.

  Heavy rains kept pouring amid frequent thunder and lightning. It was a complete reversal of the hot, dry conditions that had sent Hartman County into a record drought. In a sense, it mirrored her and Peter’s experience perfectly.

  “Sister Angela once said that we become addicted to things because we use them to fill a hole in our souls. She also said something about filling that hole with something positive. In her case, she filled it with Jesus. I guess that works for her, but I also think she’s missing the bigger picture,” Mary said.

  “Like what created that hole in the first place,” surmised Peter.

  “Exactly!” she said. “We both have that hole in us, to some extent. It might not be the same, but we’ve used the same tactics to fill it.”

  “With sex?”

  “Not just sex—a very particular approach to sex. We needed to do it a certain way. We needed to follow a certain path—one that became a coping skill of sorts.”

  “If it was a coping skill, it wasn’t a very good one. It still messed us up big time,” Peter said.

  “Very true, but that’s still not the full story,” Mary said. “We could’ve used other unhealthy methods to cope—pot, cocaine, junk food. Hell, we had options. It still ended up being sex.”

  “How much does the method really matter?”

  “I think it matters more than we think. If it didn’t, then that kiss wouldn’t have felt so overwhelming. This leads me to believe there’s a reason we got addicted to sex, and maybe it has something to do with the way we approached it.”

  Peter fell silent, drinking the rest of his coffee and giving her the look he only gave when he was really stuck on something. Mary finished hers and set the cup aside. She stopped reliving the moment of the kiss in her mind and turned back toward the man standing before her.

  She had talked before about the reasons sex had become her addiction of choice. In fact, Mary had talked about it to the point of frustration with Sister Angela during her first three months in the program. Before their earlier talk, the nun had often focused on the treatment rather than the cause, which might be why her efforts had never felt sufficient. This told Mary that there was something important they both had overlooked and kissing Peter had helped expose it.

  “When you kissed me, you took a different approach,” Mary said. “You were in a position to get something you wanted, but you took another path to get it.”

  “That implies my only intent was to get you into bed with me. That’s not what I wanted, Mary,” Peter said.

  “So…what? You’re not attracted to me? You don’t find me sexy?”

  “Don’t do that, Mary. This isn’t a game.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make it a game,” she continued. “It’s a serious factor to consider. There’s definitely some attraction we’re avoiding. I think we felt it that first night we met. If we didn’t, you wouldn’t have run off on me.”

  Peter looked uncomfortable again. He didn’t flat-out admit that he was attracted to her, but he didn’t have to. Mary could see the signs.

  She hadn’t bothered avoiding it. Her attraction to him had become abundantly clear, as her recent masturbation habits had demonstrated. Without revealing those intimate details, she gave him a reassuring smile to ease the tension. It helped somewhat, but it also helped make her point.

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be weird. You’re an attractive guy. I’m an attractive girl. We’ve already got a history. There’s bound to be some mutual interest involved,” Mary said.

  “Attraction, lust, love, whatever you want to call it… It’s a few steps beyond weird,” Peter said awkwardly.

  “Maybe that’s a sign that there’s something right about it. When we kissed—whatever method we used—it still felt right. In fact, it felt so right that I’m starting to think the solution is more obvious than we’re willing to admit.”

  “Solution? Solution to what?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m just thinking out loud here,” admitted Mary. “All I know is that when I kissed you, I felt something that filled that emptiness inside me—something that I’m just now starting to understand.”

  The mood between her and Peter shifted. The emotions she’d felt at that moment became secondary. The forces that evoked those emotions took priority.

  Mary could tell he was reliving the kiss in his mind, trying to understand it as she did. The way he looked at her made the extent of those emotions clear. It was enough to make Mary feel awkward, but it didn’t keep her from smiling.

  “It’s strange. The more I think about it, the less weird it seems,” Peter said. “Maybe that’s another sign.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of just identifying the signs. I’m more interested in what they’re saying,” Mary said.

  “So, what are they saying? Is it really just a matter of needing someone you want to both love and fuck?”

  “You think a solution to something like this could be that simple?”

  “It would be nice if it were. It would make a terrible romantic comedy, but it wouldn’t be completely outrageous,” Peter said. “We both admitted to keeping things casual when exercising our addiction. I remember resisting the urge to seek any emotional entanglement with someone. This might be the resistance of those urges catching up with me.”

  “If that’s the case, then the kiss would’ve been downright hollow,” Mary said. “That would make all those feelings as genuine as the ones we’d get from a run-of-the-mill one-night stand.”

  “Which is exactly why I guess that’s not the case,” Peter said. “You said you felt something that actually filled the void. Just releasing pent-up desires wouldn’t do that. It would only replace one kind of emptiness with another.”

  “Makes sense,” shrugged Mary.

  “So then, it’s not just that we crave a connection with someone that involves something other than swapping bodily fluids,” continued Peter. “It’s more that we never learned how to make it in the first place. We only knew one way to connect, but that way only went so far. Then, today, we tried a new way and something else came from it—something amazing.”

  As he said the words, he finally smiled back at her. It made Mary feel awkward in a way she hadn’t since her teen years. It was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.

  With the tension fading rapidly, Peter finally sat down on the sofa next to her. She was tempted to move in closer and slip into his arms, but she held back. A part of her wanted to tempt him as she had tempted many men,
but she didn’t want to do that. In the end, Mary didn’t have to.

  For a brief moment, Peter just sat there and gave her an affectionate gaze. The way he looked at her made her feel something that went beyond attraction. It couldn’t just be lust. It couldn’t just be love, either. This had to be something more. He clearly felt it, as well, and wanted more of it, just as she did.

  “But as amazing as it was, it was still… incomplete,” Peter said.

  “Which wasn’t our fault, mind you,” reminded Mary, just as another round of thunder hit.

  “Well, we’re indoors now—alone, out of sight and with exceedingly few distractions. We’ve already told our respective stories. We’ve been brutally honest with each other.”

  “Maybe even too brutal,” added Mary.

  “Be that as it may, there’s not much left to say. If we wanted, we could try to complete the feeling.”

  “I thought that was the main reason for inviting me to your apartment…and all the implications that come with it.”

  “It is. So, I guess the only thing stopping us now is… Do we even know?”

  That was the burning question. Before she dared to evoke any more intense feelings with Peter, she had to determine how to confront all this.

  That first kiss between them had just happened. It had been a culmination of instinct, and she couldn’t rely on that again. In fact, relying on instinct was a big part of what had led her and Peter into their current predicament. To truly break the cycle that had fueled their sexual addiction, they needed to do something much bolder.

  Mary opened her mouth to offer an answer, but nothing came out. Her mind went blank. Her train of thought had hit a dead end. Doing something bold had never scared Mary before. No woman ever had ever become a successful model or an unapologetic slut by being shy. However, something like this required a different kind of boldness.

  Her silence seemed to disappoint Peter. He must have been at just as much a loss. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he shook his head and turned back toward the fire in his fireplace.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was kind of hoping you had the answer, because this is where my expertise ends.”

  “I’m as disappointed as you. I’m usually pretty good at coming up with something…even if it is crazy,” Mary said.

  “You always were full of crazy ideas as a kid,” Peter said. “For this, we may need something extra weird.”

  He remained fixated on the fire. Mary tried to encourage him, reaching over and placing a hand on his leg. It didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for, but it should remind him that they were in this together—however right or wrong it ended up being.

  While Peter stared distantly into the fire, Mary decided not to strain herself more than she already had. She slumped in her seat, resting her head on the back of the sofa. For a moment, she just watched the fire with Peter. It offered a warm, soothing ambience in the midst of a raging storm. It helped her relax, but it didn’t give her any ideas.

  As they sat in silence, Mary turned toward the window again and watched the storm outside rage on. The pouring rain pounded the windows. The wind and the thunder echoed from the sky. It was eerily beautiful, but that might have been a byproduct of the drought. It had been so long since Hartman County had seen any rain that a storm like this was a major spectacle.

  Then, as Mary admired this sight, an idea came to her. She became more alert, as though she had just received an urgent message. She rose from the sofa, getting Peter’s attention in the process, while she remained fixated on the raging storm outside.

  “What is it, Mary? Is something wrong?” Peter asked.

  He sounded worried but intrigued. The idea that had just popped into Mary’s head was beyond crazy. For a moment, she tried convincing herself to forget it. She failed. In doing so, Mary only convinced herself that the idea was worth trying.

  Now, standing in the middle of the living room, Mary turned back toward Peter. The idea might have been nuts, but it made too much sense. All the complications that had driven her into her sexual addiction took on a new context. Her mind began to race again, so much so that a smile formed on her face. In a moment that might define her fate and Peter’s, Mary made a bold yet very unusual choice.

  “Mary?” Peter said with growing curiosity.

  “Let’s have sex,” Mary proclaimed with more enthusiasm than she’d intended. “Right here. Right now. Let’s do it. Let’s have sex!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  #xa0;

  The next few moments tested Mary’s ability to contain herself. She’d had a feeling she would get a reaction from Peter as soon as she proposed her idea. She just hadn’t expected it to be so funny.

  “I, uh… How did you…? What?” he exclaimed in bewilderment.

  “You heard me. You know what I said. I’ll say it again really slowly, just in case you didn’t hear me right. Let’s…have…sex,” Mary said in a tone that left no room for ambiguity.

  Peter had a look on his face that reminded her of a child who’d just seen an R-rated movie for the first time. Oddly enough, she remembered him making a similar face when they’d raided her brothers’ porno stash when they were kids. For a man who carried himself with such strength, it was pretty hilarious.

  His reaction aside, Mary remained dead serious. After saying it out loud, she suppressed any lingering doubts. For something like this to work, she couldn’t have reservations.

  “Um…I’m still going to need some context here,” Peter said, gathering his composure just enough to form coherent sentences.

  “I know. I just needed to gauge your reaction first,” Mary said.

  “I’d say you’ve got it. I’m pretty sure I’ve made an ass of myself already, so can you help me make sense of this?”

  He sounded overwhelmed, having been caught completely off-guard. Mary held up her hands, encouraging him to settle down. He was probably making all sorts of assumptions, most of which weren’t nearly as crazy as what Mary had in mind.

  “Bear with me here,” Mary said, still dead serious. “We’ve established a few hard facts. First and foremost, the way we kissed each other was different from all the other times we’ve kissed someone. With me so far?”

  “I want to say yes, but doing so means I admit to having that urge,” Peter said, being careful with his words.

  “Are you going to tell me you haven’t?” Mary asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’ll…let my erratic body language answer that.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Now look at that kiss again. You said it yourself. You took the exact opposite approach. Not just a different approach—the exact opposite. We even agreed that meant something. Still with me?”

  “Yeah…for the most part.”

  “And if it did mean something, then maybe we should take it even further. We’ve felt what happens when we flip the script on a kiss. Now, I want to see what happens when we do the same with sex.”

  “Sex? As in the very thing we’re addicted to?” Peter said.

  “Exactly!” affirmed Mary.

  He remained baffled, and rightfully so. A kiss was one thing, but sex added a few complexities, to say the least. Lucky for him, Mary had already formulated a plan.

  “It goes like this. You take the initiative in the sex. More importantly, though, you keep it. From foreplay to climax, you set the tone, the action and everything in between. In turn, I’ll accept it. I’ll trust you to do what needs to be done to ensure we’re both satisfied.”

  “By initiative, you mean…” Peter said, still probing for details.

  “I mean most of what you think I mean. You tell me what to do. You tell me how we’re going to do it. It may mean me sucking your dick. It may mean you nibbling my ear, pinching my nipples or slapping my ass. I don’t know. You’re in charge. I’m just going to be a good girl and listen.”

  “So…you want me to dominate you?”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Mary said, rolling her eyes
. “I’m not talking full-blown BDSM here. This isn’t about you dominating a woman or me being dominated by a man. This is about us doing something we’ve done before in a completely opposite way—a way that, for some reason, we’ve avoided. Maybe a part of that reason has to do with why all the sex we’ve had before left us feeling so empty.”

  It still sounded crazy, especially when she said it out loud, but Peter seemed to pick up on her line of thinking. He might be entertaining thoughts on how he would go about it, which definitely had appeal on some levels. Even so, Mary could tell he was hesitant.

  She looked back briefly toward the window, the storm outside still raging. The spectacle had helped inspire the idea. As Mary watched the rain fall, she recalled the details of that inspiration.

  “As sexual a woman as I am, I’ve been exceedingly uptight in my approach to sex,” Mary said. “I use only one tool in a very specific way to fulfill my desires. I’m always the one to set the tone—always having to control the situation. It’s like trying to fix a watch with a hammer. At some point, you need another tool to get the job done.”

  “And I did the same thing, albeit with a different tool,” Peter said, following her logic. “I had to cede control to the woman to be the lover I thought she wanted me to be, but I was never the lover I wanted to be.”

  “In other words, we’ve only ever run half the race—seen only one side of a coin. In the same way too many sunny days can cause a drought, we’ve ignored other parts of our desires. We created that void that we’ve tried to fill in all the wrong ways. We created the cycle that turned our desires into full-blown addictions.”

  “So, to end that cycle, we should listen to those other desires. But what if that only leads to another cycle? One where we just crave a different kind of sex?”

  “That’s a distinct possibility,” admitted Mary. “That would tell us that our addictions go way beyond sex. I’m talking about the kind of addiction where wires get crossed and medications are needed.”

  That was a scary thought and one Sister Angela had warned every addict about at their first CHAOP meeting. Some forms of addiction were genuinely clinical, requiring both therapy and medicine. However, these were among the more severe cases. This didn’t feel to Mary like one of them. It felt like something that was more personal than medical.