Stanton Adore (3 page)

“What do you think of that?” I ask

“He’s right,” she sighs.

“I don’t believe that,” I assert. “You may be unresponsive to him at the moment, but it’s not physical, it’s totally emotional. Bethany, I treat both men and woman who suffer from Anorgasmia and they are in loving relationships with a person they can trust.” She nods as she listens. “Have you thought about what we talked about last visit?”

“Yes.” She says? “It’s not going to be possible.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because he doesn’t know I haven’t orgasmed in three years.”

I cross my arms, “What do you mean?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve been faking it all along.”

I nod, this is common “Do you think you should come clean?” I give her a small empathetic smile. “No he would be devastated”.

I nod, “So it’s ok if you’re devastated, just not him.”

“I know how this looks,” she whispers.

“How does this look Beth?” I urge

“That I am a martyr.”

I smile. “Is that what you think,” I ask her softly.

“Do you?” She asks.

“No, I don’t think you’re a martyr. Would it matter to you if I did?” She nods her head.

“It shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks Beth, only you.”

“I care what you think,” she smiles. “You’re the only person who knows about this”.

I frown, “You haven’t confided in a friend?” I ask, a little shocked.

“No. I don’t want my friends to judge Anthony, or me for staying with him.”

“I see,” I answer. “Beth, do you think that the friends you keep are really on your side?” She looks at me as she processes what I have just asked her, she shrugs. We both sit in silence as I wait for her to speak, she doesn’t. Mmm we will come back to this. “Did you speak to Anthony about foreplay?” She shakes her head. “Mmm ok, so can I guess you didn’t do as I suggested and ask him to try Viagra?”

“I just can’t,” she looks so vulnerable my heart goes out to her. “I don’t want him to think that I think he’s not good enough for me in bed.”

“But it’s ok if he makes you feel lacking” I sigh. She nods. “Bethany I don’t know a woman alive that can come in seven minutes of penetrative sex with no foreplay.” She nods. “You know Beth and this is off the record but I take at least twenty minutes to get in the frame of mind and then another twenty minutes at least of foreplay before I even want to think about sex.”

“He needs to know that it’s not happening. Maybe he would try harder if he knew.”

She nods. “Maybe.”

“Isn’t that your grudge with him?” She frowns. “That he was dishonest.” She nods and hangs her head knowing what I am going to say next. “Are you being totally honest with him Beth?”

”No,” she answers. I stay silent waiting for her to process the information. “Last time I saw you we talked about trust.”

“Yes,” she smiles.

“How are the trust levels at home?”

“I try, I really do, but I just can’t seem to get there.”

“Beth trust is not something that happens, it is a decision you make. You either decide you will trust him from now on, or you move on. Do you have trust that you will be ok if he leaves you?” She shakes her head. “I see, but if you move on with him and you haven’t made that decision to trust. To trust him and to trust yourself to be strong. You are setting yourself up for a lifetime of misery.”

“I know,” she whispers. “It’s not completely his fault, I was so engrossed with the kids. I was just so preoccupied that I didn’t realize that he needed more sex and I let myself go and I didn’t even try to be sexy for him.”

“Beth. Don’t you dare sit there and defend him to me, for the record you were busy with his kids. His children, not someone else’s. And you let yourself go. How ridiculous. I sit here and I see a beautiful, smart, English girl who has left her family and her country to move to the other side of the world for a man, who has taken her for granted.”

“He would never have cheated if I was. I don’t know, more attractive.”

I sigh. “Beth what do you see when you look at me?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, I stand up and walk around in front of her and do a twirl.

“Now, when you look at me what do you see?”

She smiles, “A really pretty smart girl.”

I laugh, “That’s funny Beth, do you know that in my past I have had not one but two.” I hold my fingers up to accentuate the point. “Two boyfriends play up on me.” Her mouth drops open.

“But why?” She mutters under her breath.

I shrug my shoulders. “Who knows, but it has absolutely nothing to do with me.” She frowns at me. “Men play up for a number of reasons Beth. But the main reason is that they are lacking something within their own self esteem. They need to feel desired or wanted or need their ego stroked. Whatever the reason Beth, infidelity is the path of a coward. Staying loyal to one person is hard work, and it’s something that both you and I strive for. And you can be proud of that. Many women when faced with an affair go down the payback route and only end up feeling a lot worse for doing so.” I stay silent waiting for her to say something, she doesn’t. “There is only one way to receive equality in your marriage Beth.”

“How?” she asks.

“Demand it. People in life treat you how you believe you deserve to be treated. If you think you don’t deserve to be satisfied in bed then you won’t be. If you believe your husband can do better than you, then he will think he can too. Beth what you need to realize without me telling you is, that you and you only can make changes in your life. Forget about Anthony and his problems let’s work on you.” She smiles a shy smile at me which I return. I sit on top of my desk with my legs crossed. “Now I have some homework for you.”

“Ok,” she smiles as she sits up in her chair, feeling a little empowered.

“I want you to go to the adult warehouse and buy yourself a vibrator.”

Her mouth drops open. “
What?”
she whispers, I nod and smile.

“It’s time for you to take your sexuality back into your hands. Literally.”

She swallows a large lump in her throat. “I’ve never, I don’t think. Anthony will freak.” she adds.

“Anthony is not to know about this.” She looks at me wide eyed. “What I want you to do is every day fire up the vibrator and give yourself foreplay without the expected orgasm at the end.” I wait for her to speak, she doesn’t. I smile, god I love their faces when I start talking sex toys. I walk over to my desk, open my bottom drawer and pull out my large demo vibrator. I turn it on and her eyes widen.

“Don’t worry it’s not like that,” I smile.

“Oh god,” she laughs and puts her hand on her chest in relief.

“See how this feels?” I rub the side of the shaft over the palm of her hand, she smiles and nods. “If you rub the side of the shaft over your outer lips and clitoris it feels like the best oral sex you’ve ever had.”

“Oh,” she whispers eyes wide.

“Have you ever watched any porn Beth?” she shakes her head.

“Only in high school” she whispers “And I didn’t really see the appeal.”

I smile and nod. “I want you to watch a few things for me.” She frowns, not understanding. “I want you to go onto a website called You Porn. It’s the same as You Tube, but its people posting videos of sex.”

“Umm ok,” she looks worried.

“On the left hand side of the page there is a category list,” she nods. “Click on love.”

She frowns, “Love.”

“Yes, there are some really tasteful lovely videos of couples in love having sex and trust me it’s nothing like the wham bam come in the woman’s face porn most woman are exposed to. Watch it with no sound, a lot of women are very audial and the sounds of porn is what turns them off.”

“Oh,” she nods.

“And also click on the massage tab.”

“Massage tab?” she repeats.

“Yes, a lot of my patients find it really erotic watching someone get a slow massage finished by an orgasm.” I smile. “It’s very tasteful and kind of hot.” We both laugh. “And I want you to try something else.”

“Umm ok,” she nods.

“I want you to go and buy yourself some lube and begin to explore your body with your fingers again.”

“Oh god.” She looks down and twirls her hair between her fingers.

I smile. “Beth don’t be embarrassed, I talk sex all day. It’s my job.”

“Ok,” she mutters and smiles.

“Most woman have not brought themselves to orgasm with their fingers since they became sexually active and it really is a good way to reconnect with what you like and what you don’t like. Women’s bodies change when we have children and what used to arouse us doesn’t necessarily do it for us anymore. Remember Beth, you need to take responsibility for your own sexual health. Trust me, your husband will thank you later.” She smiles as she stands up to leave my office and shakes my hand.

“Those two boyfriends were idiots,” she winks.

“I know, “I smile and I wink back, “their loss” I laugh and scrunch up my nose. “Remember I want thirty minutes a day private time.”

She smiles. “Ok, ok I will. I’ll tell you how it goes next week.”

“Good, I look forward to it.” As she exits my office, I smile to myself. I should open a sex shop, I would be a fucking millionaire.

Monday mornings, definitely my hump day. Hard to get out of bed, harder to go to the gym before work, a healthy breakfast tastes more like cat food than All Bran and its damn near impossible to get motivated for the week at work. It’s freezing cold too to add salt to my wounds. It’s windy as hell, god I’m whinging today. Normally I have the excuse of too big a weekend. Still silently suffering a hangover, carb overload, no exercise. Not today. I know the reason. It’s like the frigging day before Armageddon, like I’m walking to the gallows. I’m so nervous I feel sick to my stomach. I thought I would be excited. Though I’m looking forward to seeing him this weekend, I know that after Saturday night the beautiful man in my memories will be dead to me. He has long been dead. It’s just that damn movie screen inside my head keeping him alive, hero worshiping him. I know this is probably going to be the last week I can dream about him from afar, but reality is a bitch. A bitch that’s going to bite me hard on the ass on Sunday morning. I’m dreading it. It’s like I’ve already started to mourn the loss of him, even though he’s not even mine to lose. I am on the train, it’s an hour trip to work, I purposely looked for a job well out of my zip code. Don’t want to bump into any of my sexual psychotics at the coffee shop or grocery store. It’s a hassle getting to and from work but I feel safer having that bit of anonymity away from my patients. In the line of work I do my patients don’t want to bump into me either so it’s a win, win both ways. I shuffle up the isle and take a window seat. I lean my head on the window close my eyes and start to doze. I just need to get through the week. My mind wanders back to the man who haunts me, even in my sleep.

Finally this week is over, it’s been a marathon just getting through it. I am sitting on the plane waiting to exit at Melbourne airport.

“Why do they take so long to open the doors?” Bridget yawns as she stretches in her seat

“Hmm I know,” I answer as I stretch my legs. Brock our brother is sitting across the aisle with our parents, he gives me a wink. I love Brock, he is in the Navy, a seal. He is home in Sydney for three months which is unusual for him. He’s hardly ever home. You know, off saving the world and all that. He is 6.2 and pure hard ass, he dotes on Bridge and I. Way over the top protective but I kind of like it, Bridge hates it. Brock punched her last boyfriend in the nose at Christmas lunch a couple of years ago. It was hilarious, although Bridge didn’t find the humour. What I didn’t tell her is if Brock hadn’t done it I might of. Mark was his name, of course a total wanker, boy she sure does attract losers. I smile at the memory.

“What’s so funny?” Bridge asks me. I shake my head. If she only knew what I was thinking about. I finally enter the aisle Brock grabs me from behind into a headlock and gives me a rough hug

“Your snoring kept me awake,” he whispers.

I nudge him with my elbow. “Shut up, I don’t snore.”

“Yeah you do,” he laughs and he pushes me forward so I bump into the guy in front of me who turns around and glares at me.

“Sorry. I tripped,” I whisper. He glares at me and continues up the aisle.

I turn around and punch Brock. “Cut it out, how old are you?”

“Let’s go out for dinner on the way to the hotel,” he gestures to Dad to go into the aisle.

“Good idea,” Mum answers, I roll my eyes at Bridge. I want to go straight to bed I’m exhausted. I’ve had a shit of a day, my most hated patient Roger the sex addict had a two hour block appointment. Why does the receptionist make those appointments anyway? I will have to put a stop to it. I had to listen to every last detail of his latest orgy. Seriously gross. Why he feels I have to know everything is beyond me. Imagine a 1980’s bad porn movie and that is the exact vision of Roger, bad moustache, comb over, tinted hair, rates himself big time, over dose on the aftershave that smells more like fly spray. Seriously, he is beyond help. Gives me a cold shiver just thinking of him. God, I feel sorry for his wife. Imagine having him for a husband and he’s a sex addict who wants it all the time. Shit it doesn’t get much worse, poor bitch. I wince.

“What’s wrong why are you pulling that face?”

I smile and shake my head. “Nothing I’m tired. Can’t we just get room service?”

“Tash just lighten the fuck up,” Brock chimes in. “We are on holiday, chillax will you.”

Five hours later I lay in bed in my hotel room the night before the wedding, my mind wanders. Tomorrow is the day. I’m going to see him. Thank god Bridget and I have a room each or else she would be onto me. I have been tossing and turning for two hours now. I am punching the pillow and changing positions trying to get comfortable. Trying to calm myself into a slumber, how am I supposed to look tempting with no sleep?

The movie screen plays a particularly painful memory, one that I hate and desperately wish to remove from the memory bank. It has the same effect every time bringing me to my knees. Reactivating my guilt that usually ends up with me on my knees in the bottom of the shower, throwing up and in tears.