The Sex Shrink of Seattle VOL. 5 (Sessions #5)

by Kailin Gow

  “Sure thing,” she said. Then she looked at me and said, “I don’t think I received your RSVP for the wedding yet. You are coming, right?”

  “Oh, I thought I’d sent it. I’ll check into that,” I replied. I was not going to give her a yes or no and apparently she sensed that because she didn’t ask me anything further.

  When those two were out of sight I looked at Matt and said, “This is just too damn weird. I get why Bixby would want you there, but why would he want me there?”

  “Who knows, maybe it’s Lina who wants you there,” Matt said.

  “Why?” I asked, truly confused by that.

  “Safety, my friend. If Ralph is in Vegas she won’t be tempted to give you a call if you’re there, too.”

  I shook my head. Matt’s suggestion teased the emotions that I’d been trying to stifle for the past few days. It was all I could do to get over Lina so maybe it was best that I was in Vegas with her fiancé and not in Seattle where I may be tempted to track her down.

  Chapter 8

  I had to admit that I could add party planner to Lina’s growing list of skills she excelled at. She picked the bowling suite of the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino for the bachelor party and the place was ideal. It had every game and amenity a guy could ever want and was all about the entertainment. To ensure that everything went off without a hitch, she’d even hired a male party planner to help with the details, according to Bixby, who casually said, “No women allowed.” He laughed after he said it and at first I thought he was laughing at her, but it seemed he was genuinely touched by it, thinking of it as endearing.

  There were supposed to be ten of us, but in the end, it ended up being six total. Bixby, Matt, three other guys from the fraternity in college, and me. It was a good number and the official bachelor party had begun.

  “Hey, there’s a big fight going on at the Mandalay Bay, maybe we should watch it on TV,” Ralph said. “Robert Guerrero versus Keith Thurman.”

  “I didn’t know you were a boxing fan,” I said.

  One of the guys there, John, said, “He used to do Golden Gloves in high school. Bixby could kick the shit out of you back then if he wanted to.”

  “That’s sure changed,” Ralph replied, laughing at himself. “Not like Mr. Universe, Simon, over there.”

  “Mr. Universe? Hardly, but I do okay. Sounds like I just chose to start when I was older and you got busy doing other things,” I replied. It was hard for me to imagine Ralph boxing.

  There was a knock on the door and Matt walked over to answer it and the hotel host, a/k/a the party planner, walked in to give a brief. “I’ll give you a rundown on everything that’s in stock and my number of where to call if you need more of anything. Anything you want is available to you, Mr. Bixby and guests.”

  “Thanks, I think we’ll be great,” Ralph said casually. I was slightly fascinated with how relaxed and low maintenance he seemed to be.

  “Wonderful, the chef will be on his way in to make your food and then he’ll leave you be,” the hotel host said.

  “Great,” Ralph said. The guy left and we opened up the refrigerator, finding a wide variety of beers in there and there was also a bar that was filled with top shelf everything.

  “Who wants a drink?” the one guy, Raef, asked.

  “What do you know how to make?” I asked.

  “Just about everything. I bartended in college and can make just about anything you like and probably a bunch of things you’ve never heard of.”

  “Surprise me,” Ralph said.

  “Fruity or more intense?” Raef asked.

  “Let’s go intense,” Ralph said.

  Somehow, Raef had talked us all into trying intense and ten minutes later, six large drinks were delivered that tasted intense, but so smooth. Yeah, they were the kind of drink that snuck up on you and then ‘pow,’ hit you hard with a big dose of drunkenness.

  We began to drink and relax and laugh. It was normal and maybe it was the strong rum drinks or just getting to see a different side of him, but I felt like Ralph was a normal guy. I didn’t see the manipulative guy who had some pretty perverse sexual desires. I saw the type of guy that you could hang out with and chill around. I was glad in a way, but it was also a bit unsettling to feel like I might be able to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “How about a bowling tournament?” Ralph offered. “Whoever loses each round has to do a shot of Patron.”

  “Game on. I haven’t bowled since I had to with my church group when I was a kid,” I said. A few guys said they’d never bowled at all and Matt laughed, saying he took bowling in college for a gym class.

  “Man, you were a bowling geek?” I asked. “I have never known that.”

  “Not something I brag about…until now, I guess,” Matt said, laughing. “You can always chicken out.”

  “Not on your life,” I said. “Well, I think that we should have our bachelor go first…show us what he’s got. Can you deliver a strike, Ralph?”

  “I always deliver the best, and expect the best,” he said.

  The testosterone laden party had just stepped it up a notch. The chef was in the kitchen of the suite making food, we were bowling and trash talking, making excuses for when we sucked and puffing out our chests like a proud peacock when we did good. By the end of the first game, we’d bowled ten rounds. Matt had to take three shots, showing he was no bowling master the way he was a master of so many other sports. I had one shot. Bixby had two. Raef, John, and Sam, the other three had the remaining four.

  “I better eat something before I get plastered,” Ralph said, walking toward the kitchen where a bunch of appetizers were laid out, waiting to be eaten by six hungry, already getting pretty drunk, guys.

  “Good plan, you’ll pass out before the real party begins,” Matt said.

  We all got our plates of food and sat around the large round couch in the living room area, getting ready to watch the fight on the television.

  “You’ve got a keeper in Lina. This is one awesome party she’s throwing for you, man,” John said.

  “She’s the best. God, I love that woman,” Bixby said.

  I looked at him and saw such sincerity in his eyes. All of his airs were gone and it was just a slightly drunk guy in front of me, one who seemed to be revealing what he really felt in his heart. It was a bit tough to take but I reminded myself that this was what I needed in order to get a grasp on the fact that I’d lost, I wasn’t the guy who was going to be with Lina in the future. I’d been the fling. Thinking that gave me a tang on my mouth…what a repulsive thought.

  We all sat around, talking about sports, our careers, women, and travel. It was a lot of fun and I couldn’t recall ever having a fun time with a bunch of guys, caged in a hotel suite, even if it was a couple thousand square feet, and having such a good time. Women would have always factored into the equation at some point. Lina had been quite masterful to plan this to ensure that Ralph behaved and I was thankful for it. I didn’t need Ralph sharing details with her about me doing anything with a woman because I know that if there had been a stripper or prostitute there I would have…that was just me—the old me that I was trying to change.

  “This is a damn good time,” Matt said. “I would even consider getting married if I could find a fiancé to set up a deal like this.”

  “That’s why I love her so much, Matt. She’s just the best…no one like her. I’d die if I couldn’t have her in my life,” Ralph replied, slurring even more now.

  I glanced over at the bar and saw empty booze bottles and now there were also a lot of empty beer bottles. We were going all out frat, like a bunch of guys who didn’t want to focus on our homework on a Sunday afternoon.

  John and Raef got up and left the room. I didn’t think much about it until they came back, carrying something behind their backs. Ralph was talking about Lina—again—and they snuck up behind him, revealed what they had in their hands, and said, “Sounds like you’d better cool off, your dick’s getting har
d.” Then they dumped some ice cubes down Ralph’s back, making him jump up faster than I would have thought he’d be capable of moving, especially in his drunken state.

  “Fuck…oh…shit…” As the swear words flew out of his mouth we all started to laugh louder and faster. Then it was on. Ralph was on a mission to best everyone and he was trying to do it by using intellect and physical prowess, which honestly wasn’t all that easy. He ended up getting caught more often than not, which led to a new rule. If you got caught pranking and couldn’t pull it off, you had to do a shot. Again, Ralph had to do many, but I had a hunch he was having fun and really didn’t care.

  Eventually, Ralph had run out of energy and he passed out, his head sideways on the couch. Sam, the guy who’d been known for writing on people passed out in college, wanted to pull out the Sharpie and mark him up. That’s when I stepped in and stopped him; I didn’t even wish that upon Bixby. I don’t want to say that I’d warmed up to him, but even he didn’t deserve that. What if it didn’t come off before the wedding?

  Soon after, the other guys slowly trailed off, staggering to their rooms or falling asleep with the television on. Matt and I were all that remained standing and we laughed, both knowing that while we’d gotten buzzed, we made sure we didn’t go too far.

  “Want to go play a little roulette?” I asked.

  “Sounds good. It’s only midnight and I’m still pretty wide awake. This suite is kick ass, but we’re in Vegas, we really should get out,” Matt replied.

  “Lina doesn’t care what we do, after all,” I added.

  We walked down into the casino, which was jam packed with people gambling and laughing. In the concert hall, someone was performing. We looked up at the billboard and saw Andrew Dice Clay.

  “Talk about a flashback,” Matt said.

  “Jack and Jill went up the hill,” I began.

  Matt finished. “And came down with $2.50…oh!”

  From there, we blended into anonymity, a place where nobody knew what we’d gone through and everything that was going on. We were just two guys in Vegas, getting hit on occasionally but relaxing and having fun playing roulette, which led to some twenty-one. Finally, at 2:00 we got some breakfast and then went back up to the room to get some sleep. The jet was leaving at 12 noon the next day. Then it would be back to a normal work week before the big wedding. Yes, things were seeming more normal again, and I welcomed it.

  The next day was considerably less lively than the night before had been. I was already up at 9 a.m. when Ralph came out of his room, looking pasty white and definitely hung over badly. He looked at me and nodded his head, barely able to grunt a hello.

  “How you doing? Can I get you anything?” I asked.

  “Rewind a bunch of hours and stop me from taking those last shots, and thinking that I can prank people. What the hell was I thinking,” he replied.

  “It was your bachelor party; you’re supposed to toss thinking aside for a night. Maybe some breakfast?” I offered.

  “Some nice greasy eggs, maybe raw eggs,” Raef said, walking out of his room. He looked rough, but as everyone came out of their rooms one by one, it was clear that no one looked as rough as Ralph.

  “You’re a sick bastard,” Ralph said, barely above a whisper.

  “Bite the hair of the dog that bit you,” Raef said.

  “I cannot drink anything or I’ll puke all over the place,” Ralph said.

  “Trust me, man,” Raef said, “I’ll get you feeling better.” Then he looked around. “Anyone else?”

  Everyone said yes aside from me. “Leave it to the doc with the supplements to be all healthy and probably ready to go lift some weights,” Sam said.

  “That’s a good idea, actually. Maybe I’ll go to the exercise room for a bit…might feel good,” I said.

  I walked out as everyone else started to drink Bloody Mary’s, which Raef claimed was the ‘hangover remedy of diehards.’ Perhaps it was, but I wasn’t hung. I could get a little exercise in before diving into one of those.

  I came back an hour later and everyone was livelier, laughing again, and ready to rock their way out of the hotel and onto the jet to head back home. It was decent. I’ll admit, that I was half expecting—maybe hoping—to see the old Ralph back when daylight broke, but he was still so relaxed and happy, almost like he had two personalities, make that three—asshole, kinky sex guy, and relaxed guy you could chill with.

  Three hours later, I was back at my penthouse in Seattle, tired and glad to be home. I was glad that I’d made it through the bachelor party without incident and with a new perspective on everything, too. I’d forgotten to turn my phone on after we landed at the airport and turned it on when I got into my home. I had missed quite a few cellphone calls and messages from Tina. The easy relaxed mood I had vanished in an instant. I doubted she was calling repeatedly on a Sunday afternoon to deliver exciting news.

  Chapter 9

  “Simon, oh thank goodness, I’ve been freaked out,” Tina said to me. She didn’t even give me a hello or anything.

  “Tina, calm down. What’s going on?” I asked.

  “That Gloria Sanz woman, that’s what,” Tina said. I could tell she did not like her and I got why, but what did Gloria do now?

  “Not following. Just slow down. I can’t imagine anything you telling me about her being that much of a surprise,” I said.

  “Did you know that she has a blog? And she’s been very busy on it. It’s never gotten a lot of attention until what she tweeted today. It’s trending, for heaven’s sake.”

  “What does it say?” I asked. That would be easier than finding it myself.

  “With a link to her blog page, she tweeted: I’m obsessed with hot men and can’t help myself. Dr. Sessions, Matt Tonkins, yummy, I could suck on their huge cocks all day long.” After Tina said the words, she giggled nervously.

  “That’s really rank, but there’s not much I can do about that, really, can I?” I asked. “I don’t like that it’s out there, but she’s showing her true colors by posting that, right?”

  “I get your point, but overall this shows that she could be viewed as the case you couldn’t crack, the one that eluded you and she’s very public about it. Plus, the speculation is still lingering out there about the type of therapy you two were doing.” Tina’s voice grew softer as she finished that statement.

  “Look, I want you to kick back and take a look at her blog and her Twitter feed, which is @GloriaSFalic and her blog, which is shaftworshiper.us. Get back to me and tell me what you think. I’m trying to find a solution to nip this thing in the bud, but it’s not going to be easy, Simon…especially if you want to clean up your image a bit more in the way you mentioned the other day.”

  “Okay, Tina. Are you free for lunch tomorrow? Maybe we could meet and come up with some strategy,” I offered. She was the best and I didn’t want her to get so freaked with me that she gave up on wanting to represent me.

  “Sure, how about noon at Adriatic Grill?” she offered.

  “Great, I’ll see you then, gorgeous,” I said.

  Her voice warmed up considerably. “See you then…and let’s hope that nothing new surfaces between now and then,” she added.

  “I completely agree with you,” I said.

  After Tina was off the phone, I sat down and pulled out my laptop and started to look and see what the naughty vixen Gloria Sanz was up to. It took only a few seconds to see why Tina was a bit freaked out by my association to her.

  I began to look through the feed and read her one hundred forty character messages first, each one dirtier than if she was a members’ only porn site. Why wasn’t she? She’d make a fortune. I guess she really was in it for the cock above anything else.

  #HotDrSessions I loved being your dirty little whore and taking you in hour after hour…so good.

  Okay, that post was lawsuit worthy. All we did was supposed to be confidential. It was odd how numb I was to it.

  #MattTonkins Ooh…loved working ou
t one on one with Matt. So big and so satisfying. Still licking my lips.

  That one was a painful reminder of how Matt’s offer to help me out, as motivated as it was by a great BJ, had really backfired and almost cost him everything. With each one of Gloria’s Tweets, I felt like I was growing a bit more aware of how my actions impacted others. I had to be more careful and stop feeling invincible.

  The next few Tweets were a bit less racy and a bit more edgy, woman scorned and overly horny kind of thing. Maybe she’d run out of well-off guys who wanted her to service them. She was trashy but she knew how to make herself accessible to the well-off, even if it was just a few dollars in appreciation or for a nice meal to replenish her appetite.