A gay story: The Therapist — Conclusion I couldn’t go directly home after work that day. I called Erin, as it seemed like the logical thing to do, and asked, well, more begged, to see him. He made a show of pretending to be exasperated, but it took him very little time to find a slot for me.
I sat in a café until it was time to see him, my mocha untouched and cold by now. My emotions were jumbled and it took me some time to realize that while I was experiencing many feelings, guilt was not one of them. No, I was aroused, yes, hungry for more, yes, wondering what I could do for Michael to keep him interested, yes. Guilty at what I had done? No.
The parking lot of the office suites where Erin practiced was emptying out as I arrived. I often thought I had an idea what I wanted to talk with Erin about when I arrived, but I was now calm. My emotions had settled after my almost-panicky call to Erin earlier and I entered his office with a sense of almost calm, along with arousal.
He smirked as he looked at me as he ushered me in. He nodded toward the chair and turned his back on me as he went to sit down behind his desk.
Erin looked somewhat confused when he sat down and saw that I hadn’t moved, that I was still in the same spot as I was when the door closed behind me.
He smirked again.
“You’re figuring it out. Good,” he said to me. “It was…fun working on–with you–but our time is over and you’ll be busy.”
He’d been at this long enough to know that his dismissal was only for show. It was a closure, but for him, not for me. I stared at him.
He picked up his phone and hit a button, telling whoever was on the other end to come in. He unlocked the door remotely and, of course, Michael walked in. I dropped to my knees not just in lust but in realization.
Then Michael touched my cheek with his hand and said something to me. As he did, whatever disgust and fear I had been experiencing dissipated. I looked at him as he directed me to the couch. Erin closed the curtains in the office and slipped out.
Michael kissed me as he undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. They slid down my legs as his hand fondled my cock and balls through my boxer briefs. He told me to let those down also. As he helped me undress, he was kind, compassionate, but he had a sense of being very close to something he had wanted for a long time. I stood in front of him, my cock hard. He smiled, said something about getting Alex to work me harder, and undid his belt and then his pants. He folded them over the back of a nearby chair and told me to get on to the couch, on my hands and knees.
The leather was cool from the air conditioning. Something about the coolness started to bring me back into my mind. The cool leather under my palms. The cool air on my bare ass and back. I knew…something. Something at the edge of my consciousness was coming into my awareness.
It hurt initially. But he talked me through the pain. His stroking helped. He used a condom. He whispered in my ear about how good I was and how good it would be. How he had known from the first moment he saw me.
And it was good. Beyond good even.
I felt empty. I was empty. I realized that now. I looked at him and forgave him. I told him I adored him for it.
I kissed him and he kissed me back. Then we got dressed and walked out together, his arm around my waist. I told him I needed him and that I would follow him back to his place.
I was a hundred miles down the freeway before he called me. It was overly dramatic, but I threw the phone out the window when I saw his name. But to be fair, I would have done the same had it been my wife or Erin or anyone from work.
For what I thought were obvious reasons, I doubted any of them would follow me. Nevertheless, I kept going until I couldn’t go further in the country, then I got over the border and onto a plane to another country on another continent.
They never followed me. Maybe they also came to understand that what they supposedly brought out of me was always there — always. I wasn’t running from them, I was running to who I am.
It took me a long time to forgive them, all three of them. But I hope and think I have.
Winter is more of a rumor in this part of the world, so it amuses me to see how people bundle up when it is not that chilly. I hit save on this story and savor the feeling of completion and acceptance. I stretch and reach out for the hand of my boyfriend, sitting next to me at the café, and give him a look that tells him what I need from him.