Page 14 of Elanie & the Empath
I grasped his hand when he tried to pull it away, like it was my lifeline, my power source. “I don’t want another doctor. I just want answers.”
When I let him go, he backed away again. “I understand,” he said, grasping the counter behind him and holding on tight. “Our bodies are designed to fit together, depending on the species,” he amended. “But we all still need to bereadyfor sex for it to be enjoyable.”
Leaning forward, listening intently, I asked, “Ready how?”
“Again, it varies based on the species and the partners involved. But for penis and vagina sex, a penis needs to be erect, or hard.” That little muscle in his jaw flickered again. I recorded it this time. “And a vagina needs…”
“What?” I wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake the words out of him. “What does it need?”
Biting his cheek, he said, “Okay, you told me that Blake’s touch didn’t make you feel anything, right?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“But you felt something after—” He cleared his throat. “After I touched you.”
The skin at the base of my neck drew tight, my sensory fibers tingling at the memory of Dr. Semson’s hands on my body, his fingertips grazing over my nipple. “Yes.” I hadn’t meant to whisper it, but that was how the word came out.
“Do you remember how it felt between your legs?” We were both whispering now.
“It felt warm,” I replied, staring into his eyes, mesmerized by the little strands of silver fanning out from his pupils. “It felt slippery.”
His breath caught. “That slipperiness was your body getting ready for sexual intercourse.”
“It was?”
“Yes,” he said. Then he swallowed, and my gaze followed the rippling movement along the long, blue column of his throat. I was certain that Blake also swallowed. But I’d never noticed it. Not like this. Like I wanted to trace the motion with my fingertips all the way down?—
“Before you and Blake tried to have sex, before he tried to…enter you,” he said softly, “did he do anything to help you get ready? Did he help you feel any of that wetness between your legs?”
Tearing my gaze from his throat to look down at my hands clasped in my lap, I said, “I think he tried, but nothing he did…you know.”
“Got you wet?” Dr. Semson suggested with a shaky exhale.
The air conditioning must have clicked on, because a shiver tickled my neck.
“He kissed me a little,” I said. “And that was nice. But after touching my breasts got us nowhere, we were both feeling frustrated. Eventually, he said, ‘let’s do it’ and I said, ‘whatever,’ and he just climbed on top of me and…” I shrugged, trailing off.
When I looked up again, Dr. Semson’s eyes were unblinking. “He suggested sex, and you said ‘whatever’?”
“Yes. I just wanted to get it over with.” I squinted at him, analyzing his response. “You’re judging me. I can feel it.”
Grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes, he said, “I’m not. I mean, I didn’t mean to, if it seemed like I was. There can be so much pressure surrounding a being’s first sexual experience. There is nothing wrong with wanting to relieve that pressure and just get it over with. Unfortunately, though, that kind of approach to sex is rarely enjoyable.”
“Well, I didn’t even get the chance to decide whether it was enjoyable. Because I’m dysfunctional.”
“No, Elanie. You just weren’t ready.”
“But why?” I asked, desperate to know. “Why wasn’t I ready? Blake was ready.”
When Dr. Semson muttered, “Blake is probablyalwaysready,” I threw my hands into the air and said, “Exactly! It’s not fair.”
“It’s not,” he agreed. “It’s often much easier for a male of a species to get into the right physiological state for intercourse. It can be harder for a female. Or, no, not harder. I mean”—he scratched his head—“for a male, it’s not typically hard—or itishard, but it’s not, like, hard. It’sdifficult. That’s all I’m trying to say. It’s more difficult. For females. For?—”
“You’re stammering again,” I pointed out, almost amused by his tousled hair and wildly gesticulating hands.
“You’re… I’m…Saints, I am,” he confessed, laughing alittle at himself. I wasn’t sure why, but I liked that, that he could laugh at himself. “Why don’t we try something else?” he suggested. “Maybe we need to dive a bit deeper. Maybe we should start with your motivation.”
My head tilted. “My motivation for what?”
