Christy, the Sex Therapist Pt. 07

35

"I meant what I said, Marcus. I really meant it. I think I love you."

"I think I love you too, Miss Christy. I don't think I really know what love is, and maybe I'll never know. But if it means wanting to be with someone all the time, sharing in all their experiences, and having the best sex in the world with them, then it's true, I love you."

Miss Christy beamed, but almost immediately, her smile collapsed as she realised what she had to say next.

"That's beautiful, Marcus. And you're beautiful, in every sense of the word." She took some deep breaths and Marcus recognised the gravity of things. "This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to say to someone, but you have to leave, Marcus. Like, now. I don't want you to go, but you have to." Miss Christy shed a tear.

"I know. I know I do. Fuck, it's hard. But yeah, I know. I wish I could explain how I'm feeling right now, but I don't think I can. You're right. I need to give you some mental space before Alex gets home." Marcus looked at the state of Miss Christy's bedroom. "Do you at least want me to help you clean up? This room looks pretty bad. We've fucking bombed it."

Miss Christy laughed at Marcus's description. "Thank you, Marcus. Probably best if I clean up myself. It'll give me a chance to think while I'm working. It'll be easy to wash the sheets and put new bedclothes on, but it stinks pretty bad in here. That's the main problem. I might spray some perfume in here, just to disguise what we've gotten up to."

She raised a sexy eyebrow, but Marcus had temporarily been rendered incapable of arousal. She'd completely wrecked him. His ass still felt like she'd parked a car in it.

They dressed, hugged, and kissed. They said their goodbyes, and Marcus went home.

*

Miss Christy stripped the bed and threw the sheets into the washing machine. Once the machine had started, she put fresh new sheets on the bed. She opened the window and started an electric fan to circulate the air. She thought about burning some incense to disguise the smell, but she thought the pungent smell would be way too obvious for Alex not to notice, and it might invite some penetrating questions. She settled for some air freshener, and the sweet, choking chemical fragrance spread throughout the room. At least she couldn't smell sex anymore. All she could smell was the output of factories.

A part of her felt sad, almost as though she was extinguishing a memory of Marcus.

Almost immediately, she realised that Marcus was not gone from her life, and she hoped he never would be. It was just that there were serious things to discuss, and deep, possibly confronting conversations to be had. She felt brave, but optimistic, as she tidied up the house.

*

Alex's flight landed later in the day. He disembarked and collected his bags. Outside the airport, he climbed into a cab, and rode home to his wife. He paid the driver, retrieved his luggage, walked up the path, turned the key, opened the front door and walked inside.

At first, Christy was nowhere to be seen. She slowly emerged from the kitchen to greet her husband. "Welcome home, darling. I've missed you." They kissed.

"I've missed you too, Christy. It's good to be home."

"How did rugby stuff go, babe?"

"Yeah, good. I think we're in a good position for the next season."

Christy was glad to hear this. "It's nearly dinner time, Alex. Have you eaten?"

"I had a snack on the plane, but snacks don't get the job done. I'm definitely up for a meal."

"Yeah. Me too," said Christy. "Drop your bags, freshen up, and we can go out for a bite."

They went out for dinner at an Italian restaurant. Over pasta, Alex told Christy all about his week away. Christy was interested in what her husband had to report, but her mind was never too far away from Marcus. Christy told her husband what she did while he was out of town, but she made sure her story omitted a few crucial details.

Their conversation was engaging, but Miss Christy's stamina was fading. "Hey, Alex, let's head back home. I'm a bit tired and sleepy. Maybe it's because of the food, but I've got a full day of work tomorrow."

Alex agreed. He hadn't slept well while he was away. He was looking forward to a peaceful night's sleep in his own bed. He paid the bill and they left.

In the cab on the way home, Alex probed. "You hung out with Marcus the other night?"

"Yeah, we had dinner at the sushi place we both like. I ordered the nuclear salmon. Marcus got the bomb."

Alex laughed, imagining Marcus's response. He wondered whether Christy and Alex just had dinner as friends, or whether something else happened. There were no clues either way.

The taxi ferried them home and they went inside. Alex felt horny. Christy didn't.

"Hey, let's have a shower together, babe," was Alex's opening bid.

"I had one earlier today," deflected Christy.

"But baaaaaabe," whined Alex, "I'm so fucking horny. I haven't cum in days."

His wife didn't believe him. Not for a second. Especially now that she knew he had a Grindr account. What other accounts might he have? "What, you're telling me you never jacked off while you were away?" She raised an eyebrow in defiance.

"No, babe, I swear," he replied. "I need you to help me."

Hey, they were married. Christy was definitely into heavy dicks, she always would be, and she had one right next to her. The odd thing about the situation was how much Alex was pleading, almost begging, to be serviced. That wasn't normal. Usually, he was the dominant one.

"Yeah, but I want to watch the news, Alex." Christy picked up the remote and flicked the TV on. 24/7 round the clock coverage. Men in ties, bombs dropping, pandemic. Alex really wanted to ignore the world, unzip his pants and flop his dick out, but Christy seemed intrigued.

"I thought you were tired, Christy? Why are you watching the news?"

"Yeah, good question. I *am* tired. I don't know." Her phone pinged. There was a message, but she ignored it.

"I need to cum, babe. I won't be able to sleep, and I really need a good night's sleep tonight. I've been waiting for you. Can't you at least jerk me off?"

Christy wondered why Alex couldn't take care of himself, but marriage is hell. She turned the TV off and fished his fat anaconda out from his pants. She spat on her hand and started jerking him. Perhaps he wasn't lying when he said he hadn't cum while he was away, because his load came thick and fast. Alex threw his head back as his cum drooled all over the outside of his pants. Christy reached for a tissue to clean her hand, and then a few more to mop up the rest of the mess. For her, there wasn't anything sensuous or erotic in this; it was just a physical act that needed to be done.

She air-kissed him. "Love you."

Alex felt sexually relieved, but he felt some kind of emotional wall between himself and his wife.

Or maybe it was true what she said; maybe she was just tired.

Alex showered and they both prepared for sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.

Before Christy turned in for the night, she checked her phone to read the message she received earlier. It was from Marcus. He'd sent her a photo of his beaming, radiant face, filled to the brim with love. There were little red hearts above his head. 'Love you'.

'Love you too, boi,' she replied. 'Miss you.'

She drifted off to sleep with Alex by her side.

*

36

A few more days came and went. Christy attended to her appointments and apologised to the clients she'd postponed. Alex continued to prep for the upcoming rugby season. Marcus went to work in the morning, then came home at night.

For Marcus, life sucked.

Alex sensed that something fundamental had changed between him and his wife, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Christy felt distant, and he'd felt this distance ever since he arrived back home. He wasn't sure why. Was he imagining something that wasn't really there? Was this all in his head? Or had something actually changed in the real world? If so, what had he done, if anything at all, to cause it?

So many questions. So few answers.

Marcus and Miss Christy texted each other over these few days, but it was like they were talking to each other from different orbits. They hadn't been in each other's presence since Marcus last left her bed.

Friday night eventually rolled around and Marcus went skating. Fuck, there wasn't anything else to do. He'd have loved to be with Miss Christy, but Alex was back, so it wasn't possible. Marcus went to the local skate park and hung out. He was enjoying an awesome night with his buddies, drinking beer and smoking weed, but from time to time, he wondered what Miss Christy was up to.

He assumed Miss Christy was getting boinked by her big-dicked alpha husband, and that he was already forgotten to her.

He had no idea how badly Miss Christy missed him. He had no idea how much she missed his company, his mind, his personality, his sense of humour, and his presence in her bed.

He was drunk. He opened yet another beer, drank half of it in a few deep gulps, and dived into the halfpipe.

The skater chick who blew him in the toilet block last weekend watched on as he crashed. One of his legs landed badly, it flexed in all the wrong ways. The pain was immense. He nearly blacked out.

The skater chick knew immediately that something was wrong. She called an ambulance, and luckily for Marcus, it arrived quickly. Pain swooped in waves. The paramedics scooped him up from the base of the halfpipe, put him in the back of the ambulance, and gave him some nice drugs to inhale. His head spun and the pain went away as they drove him to the emergency room.

*

He rang Miss Christy. She was about to go to sleep, as was Alex. She recognised the number as her phone vibrated, but given her recent history with Marcus and with Alex within earshot, diplomacy was required. She was unnecessarily formal. "Hello, Marcus. Good evening. Nice to hear from you."

"Hey, Miss Christy, I'm at the hospital."

Miss Christy nearly lost her shit. She sat bolt upright in bed. "What the fuck?" Alex's ears pricked up. "What happened, Marcus?"

"So I was at the skate park and I got totally wasted and I had an accident. I think I might've broken my ankle. I can't walk properly. I can't feel anything right now, they've shot me up so good I'm as high as a fucking kite, but apparently the medics carried me up from the skate park and took me to the ER and I guess that's where I am right now. The girl who rang for an ambulance for me was the girl who blew me in the toilet block last weekend." His head was spinning like a top. "You remember .... You remember me telling you about her? Fuck her mouth was hot ... fuck, Miss Christy, she gives good head, but nowhere near as good as you..."

The nurses couldn't help listening in. Miss Christy was so glad she didn't put the call on speaker. She didn't need Alex to hear any of this.

"I don't know what happens next, Miss Christy. I don't know what to do. Fuck."

Miss Christy was wide awake by now. "Have you been treated, Marcus?"

"I think so, Miss Christy."

She had no idea what that meant. "I'll come and get you."

*

Christy got out of bed and got dressed. "Sorry, Alex, I need to collect Marcus. He's at the hospital. He's in the ER. He thinks he broke his ankle." She already knew she was going to need to cancel tomorrow's appointments.

"OK, babe. But doesn't he have someone else to help him?"

Christy glared at her husband. "Maybe he does, but he called ME, Alex. What am I supposed to do, tell him to go fuck himself? He's important to me. If you were in the same position, I'd do the exact same thing for you."

Alex wasn't sure how to interpret this. Sure, if Alex had snapped a limb in a halfpipe and he rang his wife, he'd expect her to help him. Alex couldn't imagine himself on a skateboard, but that was beside the point. Alex had been injured many times on the rugby field, but professional sports teams have professional doctors on standby, and he'd never needed his wife's help. Sure, spouses help each other in many ways, but Marcus was one of Christy's clients. While Alex knew Marcus and Christy had developed some kind of friendship, does friendship mean she's top of his speed dial in a crisis?

Alex was tired. "OK, fine, whatever. I have to get up in the morning. Fuck. I'm going to sleep."

"Fuck you, Alex." Christy picked up her keys and left the house, She got in the car, fired the ignition, and drove to the hospital.

*

37

Christy arrived at the hospital and found somewhere to park. She cursed the financial vampires who own hospital carparks. She knew this was going to cost her an arm and a leg, but it was Marcus's ankle she was most worried about.

She charged into the ER and lied that she was Marcus's next of kin. She was ushered in to see him, and she found him sitting upright on a gurney with one foot in a moonboot. She tried to embrace him, but it wasn't easy, and she didn't want to hurt him. "Hey, Marcus, how are you?"

"Fuck, Miss Christy, it's so good to see you. Ummmm so I think I'm OK, but I don't know where my board is!"

Miss Christy hoped the cheap slut who blew him last week might've saved it. "Don't worry about your board, Marcus, I'm sure it's safe. Your friends have probably got it. What did the doctors say?"

Marcus was still a little woozy and light-headed from the drugs they gave him in the ambulance. "So I haven't broken my ankle, but it's a really bad sprain. Like, really bad. I can't put any weight on my foot at all, and I have to wear this stupid fucking thing while my muscles repair themselves." He pointed at his moonboot. She imagined his ankle was all kinds of purple and blue.

Miss Christy was concerned. "Do you have to stay here overnight?"

"No, I think I can go. I don't think there's anything more the hospital can do for me tonight. There are heaps of people here who need attention more than me. And besides, I'm a bit tired. Would you be able to take me home, Miss Christy?"

Miss Christy was relieved to know it was only a bad sprain, but she wasn't sure whether he'd be able to look after himself at home. "I can take you, Marcus, but do you really need to go home? I mean, you're probably not going to be able to go to work for a few days. Is there anything you need at home? If not, maybe you could stay with me. I can look after you."

"But what about tomorrow's clients, Miss Christy?"

"Fuck, they'll live. I can always reschedule appointments."

"OK then, Miss Christy. If you're sure, I'd like that." He knew Alex was back home, and he knew he'd be confined to the spare room, but at least he'd be under the same roof as Miss Christy.

Marcus gingerly got down off the bed and was given a pair of crutches to help him move around. Miss Christy helped him with the paperwork and guided him out of the hospital and into her car. She drove him to her house.

Alex was fast asleep when Miss Christy opened the front door and helped Marcus inside. She was glad their spare room was always prepared.

"You can stay here as long as you need, Marcus," she said. "I'll look after you."

Marcus looked exhausted. "Thank you, Miss Christy. I think I need to sleep now. I feel wrecked."

Miss Christy understood completely. "Let me help you to the spare room, Marcus. I'll help you get settled." He hobbled forward on one and a half legs. She turned the doorknob for the spare room and helped him into bed.

*

38

"Here, Marcus, let me help you."

She removed the shoe and sock on his non-moonboot foot. "Do you have to keep this boot thing on at night while you're sleeping?"

"No, I think I can take it off when I'm lying down. It's when I'm up and active that I need to wear it." Marcus took the boot off and propped it up against the bed. Miss Christy was shocked to see how bloated and swollen his ankle was, but she was relieved, at least, that it wasn't a fracture or a break.

"Fuck me dead, Marcus, what the hell did you do to yourself?"

He shrugged. "I probably shouldn't skate when I'm drunk and stoned, Miss Christy."

Marcus was able to take his own t-shirt off, but he needed some help with his pants and boxers. Miss Christy helped, but they both knew this wasn't a sexual situation, this was the aftermath of a medical episode that could've been so much worse than this.

"Do you need anything, Marcus?" Miss Christy made sure the bedclothes weren't putting pressure on his leg.

"I'm really thirsty. Can I have some water please?"

"Of course you can, Marcus. Give me a minute." Miss Christy went to the kitchen and retrieved a chilled bottle of water from the fridge, along with a plastic cup. "Here you go."

He took some deep swigs. "Thank you, Miss Christy."

She ruffled his sexy long hair. "Are you ready for sleep?"

"I think so, Miss Christy. Thank you so much for picking me up from the hospital and for taking care of me."

She kissed his cheek. "No problem. Night, boi." She turned the light out to let him sleep.

Against all odds, he popped a boner.

*

39

Morning. Sunrise. Peace. That cliched piece of music from Grieg's 'Peer Gynt' that everyone knows from The Simpsons. Eyes opening gleefully in anticipation of a brand new day.

Marcus didn't move. Miss Christy was perceptive enough to draw the blinds the night before so that Marcus could sleep as long as he wanted to. Miss Christy woke just after sunrise, but the only reason was to call her office to say she'd also have to cancel today's appointments because of a medical emergency the night before. After the call, she creaked open the door to the spare room to check on Marcus. He was deeply asleep, and she felt calm as she watched his chest rise and fall. His ankle still looked terrible, but at least for the moment he was resting. She closed the door quietly and went back to bed.

Alex rose for rugby training.

"Please try to be quiet, Alex," pleaded Christy.

Alex remembered last night. "Why? Is Marcus here?"

"Yeah, he is. It would've been too difficult to take him home; besides, I think he's going to need someone to help him over the next few days. He's asleep in the spare room. Please try not to wake him."

Alex understood, and he tiptoed around the house as best he could until it was time for him to leave.

Miss Christy went back to sleep. Hours later, she woke to the sound of a sickening crash in the living room. She got up to find Marcus sprawled on the living room floor, in agony, and naked from the waist down.

"Fuck, Marcus, what are you doing?"

He was in too much pain right now to respond. "Give me a minute," he hissed. She wasn't sure what to do. He breathed in and out, trying to contain the pain. "Can you help me up?"

She ran to the spare room to collect Marcus's crutches, and she waved them under his nose. "You've got these for a reason, you know. Fucking use 'em!"

"I'm really sorry, Miss Christy, I really thought I could hop there and back."

"Hop *where* and back, Marcus?" she asked.

"The bathroom. I need to pee, Miss Christy."

In some kind of engineering miracle, she hoisted Marcus to his feet -- or, more accurately, to his foot -- and jammed his crutches into place. "OK, Marcus, are you ready to go to the bathroom now?"

"Yes, Miss Christy, I think I am." His foot was still mighty painful, but at least he'd regained the power of mobility. Sort of. He lurched forward, but it wasn't until he'd gone into the bathroom that he realised there was a problem. His left hand was supporting his weight on his left crutch, and his right hand was supporting his weight on his right crutch. How the hell was he going to pee? I mean, he could've just pointed himself at the bowl and hoped for the best, but he was a guest in someone else's house. His host waited outside the bathroom door, ready to help him back to bed once he'd done what he needed to do.