It’s been two days since I gave Sera her first orgasm and sucked her clean of her cum. Sitting at my desk and indulging in fantasy, the phantom taste of her rolls on my tongue, teasing my mind and cock with how fucking good it was to have her, but also with how incomplete it was.
I didn’t plan to put her under hypnosis and take advantage of her, but when thinking over the facts, I cannot deny what I did. I’m not a master hypnotist, and I couldn’t make someone do something they didn’t want to, but fuck, Seraphina is highly suggestible, and she wants it. The exercises were meant to relax her, not to put her in a trance.
The entire experience feels more like a dream than a reality. Seraphina was so perfect, with her pale eyes watching me in fascination. Her plush lips shaped into an “o” of shock and pleasure. Her chest flushed and heaved as I pumped my fingers into her.
I can’t be in this office anymore without thinking about her. I swear I can still smell her sweetness in here, though I know it’s only my imagination. I asked Tasha if she smelled something off yesterday, and she told me she didn’t. I think she would’ve reacted in a different way if it smelled like stale sex when I asked her about it.
I’m a little embarrassed by how violently I beat my dick after Seraphina left. The smell of her was everywhere, never mind the taste of her exploding on my tongue. But, the most arousing part of all came as a surprise to me: her shame.
The terrified look in her eyes as her first-ever orgasm hit her, and the look of pain as she realized just how deep of a line she had crossed. Every flicker of emotion on her face turned me on, which is another matter that has me divided.
She’s mine, and when she accepts that, she’ll realize she’s done nothing wrong. Tim is merely a placeholder, and there’s no reason to feel guilty for falling into the pull of true love, especially when he is far from being a loving husband. But do I want to give up her flame-red cheeks or the little dip in her chest as she shudders in shame-filled ecstasy?
I consider all this as I stare at the couch. A desperate part of me wants to run my fingers over the spot she made and rub my dick, but I’m not that sad. Although it’s been two days, and I’d like to say I’ve been a functioning member of society, I haven’t. I have canceled all my appointments and instead spent that time following Seraphina, creeping into her room while she sleeps, and generally trying to relish her warmth.
Tim is being a prick to her, and If I’m honest, I’m tempted to repeat the hand exercise, but that would only make things harder for Seraphina, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
I’m not sure he’s coming in today, but Seraphina reminded Tim of the appointment. Knowing the intimate details of her life is worth subjecting myself to the undignified position of lurking beneath her hedges. The light blinks on my desk phone; Tasha’s paging me to let me know my next patient is here. Well, Timmy, it’s showtime.
The hall between reception and my office is long. I imagine myself in his head as he walks, trying to gauge when he will open that door, and I guess I have about ten seconds left before he walks in. I school my features, making them warm, open, and friendly. The kind of person people like opening up to, confiding in.
He doesn’t knock before he walks right in, and that alone irks me; announcing your arrival is a simple courtesy. What if I was rubbing my dick to the thought of your wife? A small, sarcastic voice asks. For once, I agree with it. Although Seraphina being his wife is a technicality at best.
Tim is handsome, and I can see why an impressionable young girl would fall for him. His hair is in that odd stage of growth between short and long that looks like he has no clue what to do with it. His eyes are a vivid blue, but they’re red-rimmed, not like he’s been crying but drinking.
He regards me with a venomous look, and I deduce he’s here because he knows what I did to his hand or what I did to his wife. Though, it doesn’t take long for my suspicions to wane because even he isn’t that much of a coward to only give me a dirty look if he had the faintest idea.
“Dr. Shane,” he says as he walks in and takes a seat.
The cast on his arm is dirtier than it should be, but it matches his ratty work clothes. He doesn’t stink or anything, but he looks unwashed.
“Tim, please,” I say, gesturing toward the seat he’s already taking. “Seraphina filled me in on the basic details of the injury but nothing specific. I hope you’re not in too much pain.”
The anger on his face flickers with a hint of doubt. My face is a picture of utter sincerity.
“It’s not that bad,” he answers me, sounding younger all of a sudden.
“Well, I didn’t mean to bring it up if it’s not what you’re here to talk about today.” I gesture toward him broadly. “I’ll be honest with you, Tim. After our last meeting, I’m surprised to see you, especially with your injury. I presume you must have had a serious reason to come in alone.”
He deflates like a popped beach ball while fear and bitterness replace his anger. “Yeah, things are really fucked up.”
He runs his good hand through his hair, messing it up and making it look even more ill-kept.
“I am so fucking mad at Sera for bringing us here, but since she already opened that can of worms, maybe I can get something out of it.”
It’s a fair enough thought. A lot of people are dragged to therapy against their will by partners, and many of them gain a lot from the experience. Of course, many still break up anyway, but they learn a lot about themselves in the process, and while that’s not the end goal when you enter a relationship, deep knowledge of who you are isn’t something to ignore.
“What do you want to get out of it?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid, then makes an annoyed sound like he thinks he’s stupid and tugs at his hair.
“I’m not smart like Sera, and I’m not good at talking about feelings.”
“That’s okay.” He’s either lying about that, or he’s smarter than he realizes because he’s an expert at playing Seraphina. “Our feelings are how we feel. They can be incredibly complicated, but there are simple roots for all of them. So how do you feel, Tim?”
He looks lost. “I don’t know.”
“So, confused, maybe?”
He sighs, deflating all over again. “Yeah, I’m confused.”
“Any other big things you’re feeling?”
“I’m so fucking sad, but I don’t even know why.”
I’m surprised by the tiny bolt of pity I feel for him, and a concrete plan forms. He doesn’t love my soulmate. Not in any way that counts, and I pity him. As bad as he is for her, he is stuck with someone wrong for him as much as she is. What if Tim wants out more than anyone?
“Are you always sad, Tim?”
He looks up at me, his blue eyes going soft, and then I see a familiar flicker, shame. It’s not delicious on him like it is on Seraphina. Instead, it’s ridiculous.
“No, I’m not,” he admits. “Only when I’m with Sera or thinking about the fact I’m married to her.”
My eyebrows furrow in surprise, which is a normal response. But what I want to say is, how the fuck could you feel that way about the sun in human form?
“Do you know why you feel that way around her?”
He looks back and forth, trying to figure out a way to say what’s so clear on his mind. “I’m not good with feelings and shit. I swear it sounds stupid, but sad and confused is more than I had before this appointment.”
He’s visibly upset and shaken. I know I can help all of us. I can steer us all exactly where we need to go.
“Can I, can I tell you about us? Maybe you can help me figure this shit out.”
I smile at him with genuine warmth. I want nothing more than to hear the intimate details about how he and Sera came together and married so young. These are details that no amount of stalking can garner if no one is talking about it.
“Please do. I have the next hour clear if we need.”
“I met Sera when we were babies. Our dads are the best of friends, and our moms…” he trails off, looking into the corner like it’s much further away. “Being in similar situations that they couldn’t escape brought them together.”
“Where are they now?” I already know the answer.
“Dead,” he answers with a heavy breath. “Our dads weren’t easy men to live with, and Sera and I leaned on each other a lot. After our moms died a year apart, we were inseparable.”
He’s quiet for a while.
“Did it become romantic between the two of you immediately upon your mothers dying?”
“I’m not sure it’s ever been romantic.”
It takes everything in me not to tell him he’s a dick for saying it like the idea is absurd, but I know I’ve fucked up; he senses my displeasure.
“Don’t get me wrong. Sera is beautiful, and I do love her, but I married her to get away, and that choice only trapped me further.”
“Do you mean that you’re trapped in your marriage?”
He shakes his head, “We were supposed to get married at eighteen. Sera’s dad is the pastor, and we knew that was the only way he would ever let her go. My dad is a mean drunk bastard, but he’s devout. The two of them are the best of friends.”
“The two of you have only been married eighteen months. What happened if you were meant to be married years ago?
“When I told my father I was marrying Sera, he was drunker than I realized. He started screaming about sin, shame, and a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t understand. He punched me in the face before I could even figure out why he was angry.” He looks lost as he stares at the ground like the memory is too heavy and dark to see past.
“Why was he so angry, Tim?”
“He thought I had gotten her pregnant. He thought I took the virginity of his best friend’s daughter. He thought we were eloping to protect her reputation. So he—” Tim swallows hard. “He beat me pretty bad, broke my leg in a couple of places. I wasn’t destined for the major leagues or anything, but I played football and was good enough to at least play in college. Well, before he did that, anyway.
“I had a small football scholarship and another one that I won because of the circumstances of my mom’s death. But without the football scholarship, I couldn’t get out anymore.”
“And Sera?” The nickname sticks in my throat.
“She felt like it was her fault, so she stayed with me even when I’d rather she went away. She’s always been so goddamn good and sweet. How can you tell someone like that, that you hate them because they remind you of every shitty thing that’s ever happened to you? How can I fuck her when most of the time I can barely look at her?”
I’m feeling a lot of things right now. “You hate her?”
“Yes!” he almost shouts, “No…” His head is in his hands. “I love her, but I’m not in love with her, and I never have been.”
“It sounds like you both tied yourselves to each other out of obligation.”
He lets out a low, miserable moan, confirming my suspicions.
“Tim, look at me.” It takes him a minute, but he does. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I think I can make things a lot easier for you. Please try to listen to what I’m saying rather than getting emotional. Can you do that for me?”
He nods, looking a bit scared but also excited.
“Sera isn’t happy with you either.” Unfortunately, his response isn’t as instantaneously happy as I hoped. He looks crushed.
“She’s not!?” he sounds like a little kid. For all his blustering and bravado about his motivations with her, it’s clear he depends on her.
“Honestly, Tim, think about it.”
He does, taking his sweet time. At this point, we’ll need the next hour and maybe the one after that, but it’s worth it if this works.
“She can’t be happy. We don’t even have a real marriage. It’s legal, but other than that, it’s a sham. Sera is a smart girl.” A tear slides down his cheek, and I’m shocked at the sight. “Is she leaving me?”
“No, Tim. You know she could never do that to you.” He sucks in a gasp as if I’ve wounded him. Of course it was only a guess, but it seems to ring true.
“She would never leave me even if she was dying to. So is she dying to leave me?”
I could say yes, but manipulation that heavy-handed doesn’t work. “No.”
I crinkle my brow and shake my head, trying to soften whatever he’s feeling. I don’t want him to leave Sera in an angry fit. I want him to do it maturely and calmly so she can have closure.
“She loves you, Tim, but we all know neither of you is satisfied in this marriage. Tim, she’s never had an orgasm.”
The lie falls freely, but my cock gets so damn hard I resist the urge to fist it through my pants.
“Are you serious?” he asks with an expression that looks startlingly like pity, and the softening I felt for him dies in my chest. My angel doesn’t need his pity.
“Very, Tim. Can you imagine how unsatisfied she is? Do you imagine she can’t feel the lack of love?”
He sticks a finger in his mouth and chews at his nail bed. “It sounds like you’re saying that staying with Sera is cruel.”
“What do you think?”
“Sera is a better girl than I’m treating her like, and she probably feels like shit because I act like she’s awful. Why can’t I let this shit go?”
“Tim, you don’t need to be upset with yourself for that. You went through an extremely traumatic series of abuse, and it is a pity Sera triggers memories of all that loss and pain. It’s unfortunate, but it sounds like you are in a fundamentally doomed relationship.”
“It was doomed before I married her,” he agrees, and I resist the urge to punch him. He knew he didn’t love her in the only way that mattered when he took those vows, and he shouldn’t have done it. Those were my vows to make. I hate this prick, but I understand him now, which means I’ll have no problem controlling him.
“Do you know what you need to do?”
“I don’t even care about this shit with her anymore. I need to figure out who did this to my arm and get revenge. And I need to do that without Sera breathing down my fucking neck, so I’m going to tell her tonight. It’s the only way.”
I’m so satisfied I nearly grin, but I force myself to ask what I would under normal circumstances. “Your arm?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He reinforces what he said earlier, but I am curious to know what Tim thinks about his attacker and if he regrets touching what’s mine. He hasn’t mentioned the spousal abuse, and neither have I. He will leave her tonight, and it won’t matter once she and I are living happily ever after.
“That’s quite alright, Tim. A word of advice?”
“Please, anything.” He puts up his hands in a pleading gesture.
“Pack your bag before you break the news. That way, you can leave quickly and let her have space to process. Then, you don’t need to fight with one another.”
He nods gravely.
“You’re right. This is going to hurt her, but I don’t need to do anything to make it worse. And with me out of her hair, I’m sure Sera’ll see this is a good thing in no time.”
“I think you’re right.” And because I’m a sick bastard, and I understand my mark, I tell him, “I’m proud of the work you’ve done today.”
A light flush lifts into his cheek. As I guessed, his drunk fuck of a dad never gave him much praise. Male-on-male affection is a funny thing. It is frowned upon by so many, but it is so damn essential to every one of us. There isn’t a man alive who has never needed the praise and approval of another man. A father’s approval is one of the most basic things a boy can crave, and Tim is starved for positive male bonds.
He clears his throat. “Thanks, Shane. Uhm, can I come back on my own? You know it won’t be couple’s counseling after I end this, but maybe we can keep this thing going?”
He’s so awkward it’s almost sweet, and that’s when I hear myself saying, “Sure, Tim. Sounds great to me.” If he does as he’s supposed to and leaves Sera, I will be more than happy to help him sort his life out. It will be his reward for making things easier for me.
“Thank you for today. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
“Of course, Tim. Anytime.”
