Controversial Marriage Counseling

Brooke seated herself in the waiting room, examining the various corny posters around her. "You're Not Lost, You're Exploring: The Wilderness of Your Mind."; and "Dream Big: Even Bigger Than Your Netflix Queue."

She sighed, listening to the hum of the radiator. Arriving early was no fun. As soon as she took her headphones out, the door opened, and the counselor peeked out with a smile. "Sorry for taking so long."

"No, no. It's perfectly fine," she responded, clutching her purse and walking inside with him.

His space was much better furnished than the waiting room outside, but before she could properly absorb it, he whipped around and asked, "No Mr. Harrison?"

For a second she could only stare at him. Then she replied, "No, and honestly, I wouldn't mind starting without him."

"I see," was all he said before taking his seat. She sat down across from him. He began scribbling on his notebook while she took note of the various objects cluttered on the table. She wasn't certain she'd arrived at the right place. Rhonda had spoken so gushingly about it that she'd honestly expected the way to be paved with gold.

"Alright," Ryan said, clasping his hands together. "I'd dare say this is a common occurrence."

"You have no idea," she responded, placing her shaking hands on the table. Ryan waited for her to continue. "This last week he has been late picking the kids up, every day. And when he does, he drives wherever the fuck... I'm sorry. Wherever he wants. After that, there's about a fifty percent chance he wouldn't show up all night. And when he does, his side of the bed is empty."

She'd spoken too fast. Recovering her breath, she looked at the therapist. His expression had remained as stony as before, but something in his eyes compelled her to keep going. And so she did, the missed dates, groceries and errands. How he'd forgotten their 5th anniversary and her birthday in the same year. About how she suspected he was cheating.

When she was done, she felt drained. It was as if she'd wrung out her soul of everything she had felt for her husband. But she knew the lingering feelings would return, late at night, when the only sounds in her house were the engines of cars motoring past.

Ryan nodded sagely, and then gazing at her, he asked, "What does that make you feel?"

She almost burst out laughing. "Feel? What do you think I'm feeling right now?"

"That's exactly it. You may not know what you're feeling. Compartmentalize it. Tell me how much of it is anger, how much is disappointment, loneliness..."

They went on for an hour. Surprisingly, writing down what she was feeling, and recognizing the self destructive patterns she was putting herself into was a relief. It was as if she had discovered the root of her problems. Now if she could learn to start cultivating it.

They closed off with how they communicated within the marriage. The result was the slow realization that she and her husband had never actually talked like two adults in a relationship. They'd bickered like children, especially, Ryan said, the absent husband.

Driving home, Ryan's words ricocheted through her head, making her rethink just exactly what her marriage meant to her. Beyond that, excitement thrummed through her. She was excited to tell Kevin of how much she'd learned in just an hour. But his car wasn't in the driveway. He wasn't even home.

But for once in a long time, she felt like that was okay.

The sessions continued. And her husband remained absent. Not that she minded anymore.

"Tell me of your needs. What do you need in a relationship to be happy?"

She was surprised by how little she needed. Love, companionship, a little time. Ryan's next question floored her. "And what do you think Kevin needs?"

It was immense. He needed more than she could give her. And for some God-forsaken reason she would always try while he sat idly by when it was her turn.

The more she visited Ryan, the more she began to realize that she had grown past Kevin. But accepting that was difficult.

"I've known him all my life," she said quietly.

"Your life isn't even a third of its way through, Brooklyn."

But no matter how hard he tried, she wasn't able to rationalize herself to reach that decision. It was as if she was tethered to her husband permanently.

By the end of that session, Ryan had given her another notebook, to fill with 'Reasons to Stay' and 'Reasons to Leave'. She knew before she left that the latter would greatly outnumber the former list.

The next week was painful, her reasons for staying seemed flimsier and flimsier by the day. Her entire list seemed phony. She passed it all in a daze. Driving to the counseling office, she made her decision.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. It has to be this way. Kevin and I..." she couldn't bring herself to say more. It wasn't that she was feeling sad. She felt nothing. But feeling nothing was maybe better than feeling lonely.

"I'm not sure you're certain," Ryan's voice came from behind her. She looked up, startled. He'd walked behind her without her noticing. Hands landed on her shoulders, gently massaging her.

She wasn't sure how much of a breach of professionalism that was. But she didn't mind. His hands on her felt good.

"You haven't made much progress the last two weeks," he murmured.

"Yeah... I'm just so tired."

"Mhm. You know, there's another way we can proceed. But I'll have to warn you, this procedure is... well, let's just say it's a bit controversial."

"What is it?" she said, intrigued.

His hands traveled down her shoulders, on her chest, cupping her breasts. She shivered, placing her hands on his, fully intending to remove them. But she couldn't. Desire spread through her body like a wildfire. He gently kneaded her, tickling her nipples with his fingers.

Swallowing, she managed to croak out, "Is this... is this alright?"

"Just relax, Brooke."

"I'm trying."

"Good."

His hands slid in through her cardigan, caressed her tits through her blouse. She gasped, trying to contain the budding heat coursing between her legs.

Uncaring, he continued speaking matter-of-factly, "The procedure is a bit unconventional. All I need from you is a little... cooperation."

She nodded, biting her lips. He reached up and began fondling her neck, making her shiver in response. His fingers trailed upward, cupping the sides of her face. Then he walked away. She tried pretending that what she was feeling wasn't disappointment. But then her hopes resurged as she heard the click of the door being locked behind her.

Muffled footsteps approached, heightening her apprehension with every step. He pinned her under his arms. One of his hands stroked her hair, and then held her chin delicately.

"This procedure," he said softly, "can get me fired." Chuckling, his thumb parted her lips. She enclosed it within her mouth, tasted the salty ink, and licked him with her tongue.

"But it'll make a difference," he finished, pulling his thumb out. His hands dragged down her soft body, the fabrics rubbing against her skin. Until he reached the hem of her skirt.

"Take it off." It was a command. And she couldn't help but obey. She dropped the skirt on the floor, exposing her damp panties for him to see. His hands trailed around her belly, before caressing their way to her crotch. She gasped as he probed her through her underwear. His index finger traced her slit back and forth. The other hand pressed against where her clit was, lightly circling with the tip. She grabbed his toned forearms tightly, muffling her moans on them as he teased her into a shuddering mess.

"Alright, Brooke," he whispered against her ear, making her tingle all over in aching madness. "Our next step is to get those panties off."

She did so, unclasping and letting them fall on top of her discarded skirt. The cool air touched her nakedness. Ryan reached down and grabbed her knees, pulling them to the chair. With her knees drawn up, he pushed them apart, exposing her pussy like a whore.

Hands on bare her knees, he muttered, "Just a little while longer. Hold on the best you can."

His fingers trailed past her thighs, pausing around her labia. "Tell me what you have done so far regarding your coping mechanisms."

"I-- what?"

"Brooke, keep talking, and I'll keep moving."

She couldn't understand what was happening. His hands were still on her, and she was trembling with anticipation. But he wanted her to talk?

He wasn't moving. Swallowing, she said in a tiny voice, "I scrolled through... ahh..." His fingers slid down her wet slit, caressing her pussy. The other hand gently made its way to her clit. Then he stopped.

"You did what?" His voice was infuriatingly calm. She wanted him to throw her on the table and just be done with it. But as it was, he held her in a trance. So she followed his command, just to calm down the maddening sensations of lust coursing through her.

"I--," he resumed as soon as the word left her mouth, "oh God. Three times I... fuck..." he finally began teasing her clit, gently rubbing his finger on her. Her body responded madly, trying to hump his finger and get itself off. "... I couldn't handle it. I ate a ton... fuck..." A finger slid inside her pussy. She squeezed around it, moaning loudly. Ryan stopped again. "No, don't stop. I had fast food three times in a row, and I puked it all out... ahhh..."

She lost the ability to talk as he began rubbing her clit rigorously. His finger slid in and out of her pussy rapidly as he pushed her past the edge. She moaned so loudly that she was sure everyone in the waiting room heard her. Muffling herself in Ryan's arms again, she bore the brunt of her climax in deranged ecstasy, feeling his muscles tense as he fingerfucked her to completion.

She stayed still for a while after he was done. Finally, she wiped the drool off her chin with her sleeve and turned away from his arm. Ryan calmly walked back to his desk, drying his hands off with a napkin. She quietly pulled her soaked underwear back up and then put her skirt back on. Breathing rapidly, she looked down at the table in front of her, hearing Ryan's scribbling too loudly in her ears. She wasn't sure what exactly she had just done. But she wanted it again.

"You've done really well this session, Brooke. Of course, your self destructive habits need to be collared. It was understandably a hard week, but..."

He went on and on and she listened to him, latching on to every word. Finally, he said flatly, "I'm glad today's results were good. We can take things further next session."

Her heart leapt at those words. "I'll be happy to," she said with a smile.