Lust

By: Leddy Harper



“Why don’t you ask me some questions so that you might have a better understanding of what it is that I do here?” I had veered off from my speech so much that I didn’t know what to do next. I was struggling to regain my composure and hoping the words would automatically come to me. I couldn’t remember what I had told her or what was supposed to come next. That had never happened to me before with anyone. Everything in my office was always so routine that straying from it, even for a minute, had completely thrown me off. It also didn’t help that she had me so thrown off.

“Will you have sex with me?”

I knew she meant eventually, at some point during our time together, but to me, it sounded as if she were asking me to fuck her right then and there. It threw me off for a moment before I was able to get my head back in it enough to give her an answer.

“That can be something that we discuss. Sex isn’t automatically part of the plan, but it has happened before, when necessary. My job here is to make you comfortable with the idea of sex first. We work toward you overcoming whatever fear it is you have with it, and then we go from there. Is that why you came here? To have sex?” I thought back to her earlier mention of me being a prostitute and started questioning her motives for coming to see me.

She shook her head.

“Do you mind if I ask you what spurred your interest in seeking help?”

“I like to read.”

I would need more information than that so I waited for her to say more. Her interest in reading had nothing to do with sex. Part of me wondered if she was deflecting. I knew a lot about deflecting. Clients like her did that often, talking about things to keep the heat away from the topics they were trying to avoid. Little did she know, I was a master at deflecting. It was not a new sport to me.

“I run a blog online and I read books to review them.”

Again, she was being vague. So I decided to play along. “Is that your job or just a hobby?”

“I don’t get paid to review, but I do other things that I get paid for. I design book covers, web pages, graphics, and I also organize review tours for authors. That’s how I earn my income, but the reviewing part is for fun. I enjoy reading and it allows me to read a lot.”

Everything she said went right over my head. I understood the covers and web pages, but everything else sounded foreign to me. I made a mental note to look into what it was she said she did. “Okay, and that made you want to come to me to overcome your fears? I don’t understand. What does all of that have to do with your inability to experience sex? What does that have to do with being touched or seen?”

She took in a deep breath and I watched her hands shake. “I read erotic books and they make me want to try the things that are in them. But I can’t.” It looked as if she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. It infuriated me to see such a broken person sitting before me, keeping more in than letting out. She came to me for fuck’s sake—why was I the one pulling teeth to get her to tell me why?

“Have you ever had sex before?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. It was in her questionnaire part of the file. But I asked anyway, needing to open the door for more information. More information than the little I already had on her.

“Yes. Twice.”

Well, shit. I knew from her file that she wasn’t a virgin, but it didn’t give me the detailed account of her sexual history. She practically was a virgin. Two times? I started to think her issues were deeper than I had originally thought. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“I lost my virginity when I was twenty-two and then the last time was two years ago.”

“Why the long wait, either time?” My interest was piqued. I needed to know all of the details. I found myself wanting to know everything about her.

She looked right at me before lowering her gaze again and speaking in a hushed tone as if she were embarrassed by it. “I don’t like it.”

I wasn’t expecting that. Most people liked sex. The ones that came to me didn’t really have that issue. Their problems were more from anxiety or severe lack of social skills. Low self-esteem—that kind of thing. I couldn’t recall one person coming to me and saying they didn’t enjoy the actual act of sex. I mean, if they were coming to me, then that meant they liked sex but had trouble preforming.

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