Big Girls Do Cry

by Carl Weber

  After all these months, she still didn’t get it. She still had no idea what made me tick.

  “Roberta, I don’t think I know how to harness my excitement.”

  I looked up at her, our eyes meeting for the first time. I was hoping she would understand like she always seemed to. This had been the topic of conversation between us for quite some time, but this time she tried to hide a frown. It didn’t work. Her disappointment was written all over her face.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She was making me feel self-conscious.

  “I’m just trying to figure out how serious you are about this. Do you want to stop prematurely ejaculating? Do you want to enjoy a normal sex life?”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she taking a pot shot at my manhood? If she was trying to humiliate me, she was doing a good job. My embarrassment was now defensive anger.

  I stood up. “Of course I wanna have a got-damn normal sex life. Why the fuck do you think I’ve been paying your sorry ass a hundred dollars an hour for the past six months?” I pointed my finger in her face. “I should be asking your ass when I’m going to have a normal sex life. You’re the damn therapist—oh, excuse me, psychiatrist! So what’s up, Doc? When am I going to be cured? When am I going to be able to fuck like I used to?”

  Roberta straightened up in her chair, her bottom lip quivering just a bit. There was no doubt in my mind she did not appreciate my sudden use of profanity or my accusatory tone, but this wasn’t the first time I’d gotten loud. Truth is, I just wanted her to snap back at me, give me a reason to walk out that door and feel sorry for myself, but she never did. No matter how ignorant I got, she always kept it professional.

  Surprisingly, her expression softened. “You know what, Leon? You’re right. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying. And to be totally honest, I can’t say when you’re going to be cured. But I’m committed to finding a solution to your problems. I just need your help.”

  Well, if you haven’t figured it out, Roberta is my shrink.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “Why don’t you have a seat so we can talk about that?” I did what I was told and sat back down.

  “So, I take it you and Loraine made love this weekend and things didn’t quite work out as you planned?”

  “I did exactly what you said.” I sighed. “I took her out to a nice romantic dinner at Luigi’s. When we got home, I went in the bathroom, locked the door, and took care of business.”

  “Okay, that’s good. What’d you do next?”

  “I broke out the massage oil and gave Loraine a massage from head to toe. You would have been proud of me, Doc. I took things nice and slow, just like we talked about.” My eyes panned her office, which was trimmed in cherrywood molding that matched her Queen Anne desk.

  “I’m already proud of you, Leon.” She patted my knee like I was a schoolboy who needed approval. I have to admit I did appreciate her words. “What happened after that? How were things afterwards? Did you get intimate?” She was trying to get back in my head. She knew we’d gotten intimate.

  I hesitated before I answered. I really didn’t want to tell her the truth. I twiddled my fingers and started feeling my palms get sweaty. I swallowed deeply before answering, “Yeah, we did.”

  “So how was it?”

  I lowered my head and closed my eyes. Once again, I could see Loraine’s look of disgust when I collapsed on top of her within a minute of beginning our lovemaking session. I’d even tried dropping some Viagra beforehand, but that didn’t work. I just knew that last night was going to be the time I held out until Loraine reached her climax, but once again, I came too quickly. Loraine didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was getting sick of my Speedy Gonzalez performances. I felt about as low as a man could get.

  “Horrible. Worse than ever.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I tried to hold back, Doc, but it seems like the more I try to hold back, the more excited I get. Once I got inside her, that was all she wrote. I exploded like a short fuse on a firecracker—quick, fast, in a hurry.”

  “I see … Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Maybe we should be looking at the cause of your excitement, not the effect.” Roberta gave me a compassionate look, which encouraged me to open up. “What do you find attractive about Loraine?”

  I let out a low whistle. “Wow, I mean where do I start? She’s just so … so sexy to me. Roberta, I’ve told you this before. I just love a big woman, and when Loraine takes off her clothes, she just makes me feel like exploding.” I glanced down at my pants. “I’m all excited just thinking about her being naked.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Roberta raised her eyes. “Have you ever been attracted to smaller-framed woman?”

  “Not really. I’ve been with a few, but they did absolutely nothing for me.”

  “Hmmm, interesting. So when did your attraction for big women begin?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ve always loved big women.”

  “I see. Any large women in your family?”

  “My aunt, who raised me after my mother’s death, was a big, beautiful woman.”

  “Oh, you’ve never mentioned your aunt before. Tell me more.”

  I heaved a deep sigh before I started. I was treading in some dangerous waters that I preferred to keep locked away inside my heart. “Well, my mother passed away when I was seven, and her brother, my Uncle William, and his wife, Catherine, raised me until I got grown.”

  “How about your father?”

  “I never knew my father.”

  “Sorry to hear that. So did you and your auntie have a good relationship?”

  “Yeah, Aunt Cathy was the best. She was like a mother to me.”

  “Interesting. Tell me more.”

  “I can’t. She died when I was fourteen.”

  “So tell me what you remember.”

  “Every time I think about a woman adoring me, I always think about my aunt. Funny thing is, I can’t even remember anything about her other than she was nice to me.” I sighed. “So is that why I like big women? Because of my aunt?”

  Dr. Marshall began to scribble on her notepad. “That makes sense. A lot of our adult lives are based on our childhoods. We are often attracted to people who remind us of our parent figures. It’s not unusual for a lot of men to look for mother figures.”

  I nodded. “Maybe so. But I don’t see what this has to do with not satisfying my wife. I’m really worried I’m going to lose Loraine if I don’t step up my game and handle my business in the bedroom. It’s been a long time since I’ve satisfied her. After all, she’s only human.”

  “Does Loraine remind you of your aunt?”

  I paused. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” I started feeling confused.

  “What do you think about your aunt that has to do with your issues?”

  “Why should she have anything to do with what’s going on with Loraine and me?” I noticed my heart start racing. I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

  “Let me rephrase this. What do you remember about your aunt when you were a teenager that was so kind that makes you think of Loraine?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t remember.”

  “Leon, do you realize that every time we try to go back into your teenage years, you have a blackout?”