by Darla Baker
Thalia pulls her knees up and allows her legs to fall apart, opening herself more fully to the pleasure Megan is delivering. Her heels dig into the bed, and her hips rise and fall with the rhythm of thrusts and licks of Megan’s tongue. Megan is avoiding Thalia’s clit, and her forearms are pushing down on Thalia’s legs to prevent her from being able to relieve the agony the lack of contact is causing.
“Not yet, baby. Wait for it. Let the need build.”
“If it builds anymore, I’m going to explode. Oh, God, yes. Please. I need more. Suck my clit… please, darlin’.”
Thalia can feel the grin on Megan’s face at the point of contact. Thalia pushes Megan’s head for encouragement. Finally, with very little fanfare, Megan pulls Thalia’s clit into her mouth and sucks hard while circling it with her tongue. Thalia’s orgasm comes crashing down around her. “Oh, my God. Incredible!”
Before Thalia recovers, Megan thrusts two and then three fingers into her and begins pumping her with depth and intensity Thalia can barely tolerate on her sensitive center. Another climax quickly erupts, and her legs are shaking. “Wow… just… wow. You should have that tongue of yours registered as a lethal weapon, darlin’. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Megan scoots up to lay next to Thalia and pulls the sheet over them. She places a soft kiss onto Thalia’s lips. The taste and scent of herself on Megan stirs a wave of arousal in Thalia. She shifts her position and quickly places two fingers deep inside of Megan. Her breath hitches as Thalia begins a stroking rhythm that is certain to bring Megan to a quick release. Thalia quickens the pace of her strokes to match Megan’s panting. She can feel the muscles contracting and twitching around her fingers. With a slight shift of her hand, she begins stroking her clit with her thumb.
“Yes, yes, oh, oh, I’m coming. Don’t stop.”
Thalia follows Megan’s instructions and maintains the same speed and touch until Megan’s muscles relax and she collapses deeply into the bed.
Thalia and Megan lean into each other, basking in the afterglow of their mutual satisfaction, their breathing slowly returning to normal.
Megan looks at Thalia, a serious expression on her face. “Will I see you again?”
Thalia closes her eyes for a moment and then jumps up out of the bed. “Let’s take a shower. I could use one after all our dancing and… other activities. Join me?”
“Sure.” Megan sounds anything but sure. But she follows Thalia into the shower anyway.
After the shower, they head back to the sofa, fresh beers in hand. “Listen, darlin’, I usually get this talk out of the way before things progress too far. But you were so amazing on the dance floor, and then we drove separate cars here. And when we arrived, things just sort of… heated up faster than I anticipated.”
Megan’s eyes are trained on the beer bottle, one hand holding the bottle and the other picking at the label. She doesn’t look terribly happy about where this conversation is headed.
“Megan, look at me.”
Megan responds by raising her head and focusing her crystal blue eyes on Thalia.
“I’m a one-and-done type of girl. I don’t do relationships. I’m sorry if hearing this hurts you. My mind’s sort of been preoccupied lately and I think it’s throwing me off. And when we first sat down here on the sofa… well… I thought we were going to take some time to chat. But then you were all over me and… and… I just lost all rational thought.”
The expression on Megan’s face changes from hurt to something else. Fear? No, anger. The muscles in her jaw are twitching from her clenched teeth. This is not good. “Get out!”
“What?”
Megan abruptly stands up and marches to the front door and flings it open so hard Thalia’s afraid it might break. “You heard me. Get out! If I had known what a womanizer you were before I asked you to dance, I would never have asked you in the first place.”
“Womanizer? You think I’m a womanizer?!”
“That’s exactly what you are. Look it up! Now get out before I call the police.”
“Okay, okay. I’m leaving. I’m sorr–”
Unable to finish her sentence, Megan slams the door in her face. Thalia gets into her car and heads toward home.
“She called me a womanizer. No one has ever called me that before. Am I a womanizer? Hey, Siri. (beep, beep) What is a womanizer?”
“Let me check that. Here is what I found. A womanizer is a man who likes many women and has short sexual relationships with them.”
“Ha! I told you I’m not a womanizer. I’m not a man! Take that, Megan!” Thalia spits the words out as she bangs her hand on the steering wheel.
But Thalia knows in her heart that Megan is right. It’s just splitting hairs. But then, is there anything wrong with being a womanizer? Despite the negative connotation, if the parties involved agree that there are no strings attached and no intention for a romantic relationship, then what’s the harm? But Megan hadn’t officially agreed.
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER TAKING CARE of the dogs and performing all the other bedtime rituals, Thalia crawls into bed with a good book and Sassy on one side, Grace on the other. But the events of the day and the evening have her too preoccupied. Her mind keeps wandering, and she finds herself reading the same couple of paragraphs over and over again.
“Well, this is getting me nowhere, girls.” Sassy and Grace raise their heads and wag their tails a couple of times and then go back to ignoring their crazy mommy who talks to herself while pretending she’s talking to them.
Thalia scoots down into the bed and throws the covers over her head. What had she been thinking when she jumped into bed with Megan before explaining the rules? And what about Amara? She has a ten thousand dollar date to deliver tomorrow.
How did I make such a mess of things?
Thalia decides the only way she’s going to get a decent night’s sleep is to get these thoughts out of her head. She reaches for her iPad and opens up Evernote to her journal notebook.
I’m such an idiot! Am I so hormonal that a pretty face and a cute smile causes me to throw all sense out the window? In five years, this hasn’t happened. Why now? Why now? That’s the question that keeps rattling around in my head. What’s different about today? Thalia, you know you don’t want to say it. But you have to. Amara. Oh sure, having a gorgeous woman hand you a check for ten thousand dollars for a kiss is flattering. Perhaps my ego was so inflated I couldn’t see the trap I was about to lay for myself with Megan. Thalia, come on, be honest with yourself. You know better than that. Amara is under your skin. All this talk about therapist/client boundaries—that’s just a smoke screen. I feel it. I feel it deep inside my bones. I’m connected to Amara. As a therapist, a scientist, the idea of love at first sight is just simply ridiculous. It’s all just chemicals. And the agnostic in me can’t bring myself to believe in such bullshit as a soulmate. This is crazy talk. I’m not in love with Amara. I don’t even know her. And she’s not my soulmate. I don’t even believe in that crap. I might have been able to convince myself “the one” existed out there before Diane. But not anymore.
Diane. There’s a subject I’ve long since put to rest. But then look at me now. I’ve spent the past five years hopping from bed to bed, having meaningless sex with virtually anonymous women, telling myself all along that it’s harmless fun between two adults. We get our needs met, no harm, no foul. And then Megan comes along with a wake-up call.
I’m making too much out of this. I was just careless, and I won’t let it happen again. But the guilt I feel over the hurt I saw in her eyes, how do I let that go? Will I see it in the eyes of every potential lover I face in the future? Come on, Thalia. You’re a therapist, for Christ’s sake! You teach people day in and day out how to let go of guilt. Guilt, the useless emotion. But of course, that’s a gross oversimplification. Healthy shame is a vital component of a person’s personality makeup. It is an important component in the building blocks that make us civilized that compel us to treat ea
ch other with respect. Guilt for having violated the rules of our moral compass is healthy. It forces us to take pause and re-evaluate our choices. Toxic shame, on the other hand, that’s where toxic guilt comes from. Toxic shame presents itself as a pervasive voice inside our heads, reminding us relentlessly that we are worthless, useless, of no consequence, better off dead, a waste of oxygen. Toxic shame turned outward is the fuel for violence and hate crimes, wars, theft, arson, domestic violence, practically all criminal and immoral acts perpetrated against others, human or animal. Toxic shame turned inward becomes addiction, self-mutilation, and suicide.
I’m not dealing with toxic shame here. My guilt is real, and I need to own the source. But what did I do wrong? I don’t mean that in an evasive way. I’m genuinely asking the question. I need to analyze specifically what I did wrong with Megan to make amends and heal from this. And I’m sure there’s potentially an entire pile of baggage that Megan could be carrying around that contributed to the events that led up to her hurt. But that’s her shit to deal with. (And I mean “shit” in the nicest of ways.)
Thalia, stop stalling and focus. So, guilt. My guilt over having hurt Megan. What could I have done differently that would have prevented the hurt?
When she asked me to dance, I could have declined. I’m sure that would have hurt her feelings a little bit. But that’s a calculated risk you take when you ask someone to dance. I would not be responsible for that hurt. But, short of a crystal ball, what reason would I have had at that moment to refuse her offer? She was pretty. She was asking me to dance. I like to dance. I like to dance with a pretty woman. And it was fun. We fit well together on the dance floor, and I’m pretty sure she enjoyed it as much as I did. No, short of me having a crystal ball or being a mind reader or perhaps giving my date with Amara some weight in the matter, I don’t see a reason to feel guilty for dancing with Megan.
When I suggested we sit down and take a rest, I knew there was a strong possibility that we’d wind up having sex. We bypassed the rest entirely and went to Megan’s house. No matter how many times I play this in my head, I know I had ample opportunity to lay out the ground rules before the first article of clothing was removed. I may or may not have been able to read Megan for signs that she was a relationship type of girl rather than a one-and-done type. But that’s not the point. I owed it to her at the earliest possible moment to make my intentions clear. And I didn’t. That’s on me. My guilt is justified, and the only way to remedy the situation is to make appropriate amends to Megan. I’m not sure at this moment what appropriate amends will look like, but I can’t think about that right now. I’ll need to sleep on it.
Okay, I think I’ve managed to analyze my guilt to a satisfactory conclusion. But now, I need to ask myself the harder question. Why? I’ve been doing the one-and-done for five years. I’m not a novice. I’ve explained the rules to women who were then unwilling to proceed, and I’ve been fine with that. I’ve had a few occasions where a woman has signed off on the rules but then revealed later that she wanted a relationship. Those situations were tricky, but I didn’t feel any guilt over them. Cheating in the game is on them, not me. Thalia, you’re stalling. Back to the question. Why? Why did I allow plenty of opportunities to explain the rules pass me by?
To be honest, I don’t know. I truly don’t know.
Thalia is too exhausted to continue with the analysis. She places her iPad on the bedside table, turns off the light, and settles down into the bed for what she hopes will be a good night’s sleep.
The Ghost of Thalia’s Past
THALIA IS IN a deep sleep when she feels a soft hand on her cheek, gently stroking. The hand moves to her forehead and then gentle fingers make their way through her hair. Thalia makes a purring sound as she settles into the warm and loving touch and allows the tingling sensation to wash over her entire body. The hand moves down to her neck and then trails down between her breasts. Thalia’s nipples are starting to harden and wetness is forming between her thighs. As the hand cups her breast and fingers begin to tease and pull on her nipple, it suddenly occurs to Thalia that she’s supposed to be alone in her bed. She quickly sits up and knocks the hand off her breast.
“What the hell?” Thalia exclaims as she fumbles to turn on the light. When the light finally illuminates the room, she turns to find Diane lying next to her in bed.
“Hello, Thalia.”
“What the… what the… what are you doing here?” Thalia can barely get the words out between her rapid intakes of breath.
“You tell me. It’s your dream. I was sleeping comfortably in my bed, snuggled up with my honey, having my own sweet dream, when you summoned me here. So what’s this all about?”
Thalia scrubs her hands over her face trying to push away the cobwebs of sleep occupying her mind. “Diane, I don’t honestly know. I had a bit of an interesting day, and I couldn’t sleep so I spent some time writing in my journal before I went to bed. And as far as I knew, I was resting peacefully until you showed up.”
“So, tell me about your interesting day.”
“You don’t want to hear about it.”
“Thalia, honey. Apparently, I’m here for a reason. And I’m guessing that until I fulfill my purpose, I’m going to be stuck here in your dream when I could be snuggled in my own bed. So spit it out.”
“All right, all right. I see your point. But I’m going to have to give you the short version. I’m too tired for the long one.”
“Fair enough. Continue.”
Thalia takes a deep breath. “I worked a fundraiser at the animal shelter yesterday. A former client of mine came up to the puppy-kissing booth where I was working and planted a kiss on me. I told her it wasn’t that kind of kissing booth, and a kiss from me would cost ten grand. To my amazement, she paid the ten grand, and I have a date with her tomorrow.”
Thalia takes another deep breath. “After the fundraiser, there was live music and dancing. A lovely lady asked me to dance and then to go home with her where we… you know. Afterward, she wanted to talk about the future of our relationship, and when I told her there was no future, there was no relationship, she ordered me out of her house and called me a womanizer.” Thalia lets out the last of her breath and wipes her brow.
“That was a mouthful. So what’s the problem?”
“There is no problem.”
“Umm, are you sure? I’m here, aren’t I? There must be a reason, and I’d like to hurry this along.”
Thalia is shaking as she contemplates saying out loud the question forming in her mind. Tears begin streaming down her face, and she can barely get her voice to function. “What happened to us?”
“Oh, baby, come here.” Diane wraps Thalia in a tight embrace and wipes the tears from her cheeks with her hand. “We were so young when we got together. You were barely twenty-three, and I was nineteen. Your mom hadn’t been dead very long. It’s more amazing that we managed to stay together for eight years than it is we broke up.”
“You’re probably right. But at the time, I felt like my life was over. I loved you so much, and I couldn’t understand what I’d done so wrong that you would cheat on me. It’s one thing to talk to me, tell me how you feel. But to just cheat behind my back, and then one day, spring it on me that you’re leaving me for someone else. It just hurt so much. And no matter how much I begged, you wouldn’t tell me why. Why did you cheat? Why wasn’t I enough? What was so horrible about me? What did I do wrong?” Thalia is sobbing with intensity against Diane’s shoulder as she continues to hold her in a tight embrace.
Diane is patting Thalia on her back as if she’s comforting a sobbing child. “Let it out, baby. Let it out. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Several minutes pass with Thalia sobbing into Diane’s embrace. When the sobbing finally slows down, Diane releases Thalia and hands her a tissue from the bedside table.
“At the moment, if I had answered your questions, I would have said horribly hurtful things to you. Things that would not have been t
rue, but would have justified my behavior. I could have come up with all manner of evils in a cowardly attempt to place the blame for the destruction of our relationship squarely on your shoulders. You had worked so hard to get through school and establish your therapy practice. I felt neglected. And then, as your therapy practice took off, sometimes I felt like you cared more about your clients than you did for me.”
Thalia looks at Diane, a combination of hurt and confusion on her face. “But I—”
“Shh.” Diane places her finger over Thalia’s lips. “There’s no need to say anything. Those were just a sampling of some of the less hurtful reasons I might have spouted out in answer to your questions. And even if there might have been some small bit of truth to them, they aren’t the reason.”
“What was the reason? Can you tell me now?”
“Of course. It’s just so simple. The nineteen-year-old girl that fell in love with the intelligent, funny, and drop-dead gorgeous Thalia Chase, grew up and grew into a different person. When I met you, I was swept off my feet. I was young and impulsive, and you were larger than life. I placed you on a pedestal. It was a horrible thing for me to do to you. The older I got, and the more I was exposed to the world and my inner voice, the more human you became. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You are human. There was no way you could live up to the image of you in my mind. And I was a coward, Thalia. Rather than telling you all this, I went out and found someone to soften the blow of losing you, of losing Thalia the Goddess. But please understand, I didn’t know all of this in the moment. I was angry with you for disappointing me and had no idea the disappointment was my own doing, not yours. I figured it out after we broke up and the affair ended. I went into therapy myself. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. By the time I figured it all out, it was too late to contact you and open old wounds. I was trying to be thoughtful. But perhaps I was still just a coward. I guess we’ll never know. But I’m glad we’ve gotten the chance to talk now, even though it’s your dream, and I’m not sure I’ll even remember this conversation.”