When someone finds the courage to confide in you, it is difficult not to overstep the margin of becoming emotionally involved. The rules are there for a purpose, but if you find yourself trapped by the innocent attraction of another human's pain, how do you escape? There is a shimmer at the end of the tunnel, which needs to be realized.
It all began while I worked at an east coast university. A normal day, filled with numerous visits from both staff and students wanting this, wanting that. That was until I shouted quite irritatingly for the person to enter. The door opened slower, almost hesitantly. I looked over my half-rimmed glasses and watched as Lucy, one of my administration staff, entered unsurely.
"Hi, Professor, sorry to disturb you," she stammered, her eyes deviated doubtfully to the floor.
"Come in child, what can I do for you?"
"I-I don't know…" she broke down suddenly.
"Close the door and sit down," I said trying to hide the irritation from my voice. 'Probably just another broken heart or unwanted pregnancy', I thought.
"I…Jennifer told me to speak to you," she said hesitantly.
"Well, I suppose you're not here on a social visit. Why don't you start from the beginning?" I folded my arms and leaned back into the chair.
"I…," she sank back in her chair as I interrupted her.
"Remember one thing, don't lie to me, and don't hide anything. If you want me to sit here and listen to you, and help you, I need to know the truth, understand?" I said sternly.
"Well Professor, you see- I can't respond to him. I feel ashamed and I know he is getting more and more frustrated. It has created a deadlock on our relationship. At times, he would just lie there, ignoring me completely. I suppose in a way, I can't blame him, but I do try really hard. It is as if he has given up completely," she started to cry.
"I understand Lucy, but have you discussed the problem with him? Have you explained to him why?" I asked stroking her long dark hair.
"I tried, I really tried, but it is so difficult. I don't even know what the problem is. I have even attempted to give him- oral sex, but he never got any pleasure out of it." Lucy sobbed.
"Wait now Lucy," I comforted her, "let's concentrate on you first. You have to understand that men, or should I say, some men need to feel that there is value to their efforts. They need to know that they are making an impression with almost everything they do. It is their egotistically aim to see a result which can boost their own selfish wellbeing."
"I don't understand," she wiped away her tears and sniffled, "I always thought that it did not matter what the woman feels, whether she…orgasm or not. My mother…"
"That's your problem, Lucy," I interrupted. "Somewhere along the line, your mother has managed to influence you because of her own misfortunes. This has wrapped your own inner-self with chains of guilt, not only towards men, but also towards sex."
"What should I do, Professor, how will I ever overcome this?" Lucy leant forward, tears streamed down her face, staining my shirt.
"It is all up to you, Lucy. I can help you if you want, but than I need you to trust me," I said.
She looked up, her makeup have left dark streaks round her large eyes. "You'll help me? Please Professor, I will be so happy, I will do anything. I just want to, for once in my life, feel something."
"Slow down, Lucy, I don't know if you realize what it is I expect from you."
"What do you mean, Professor?" Her eyes were quizzical, yet excited.
"Hold on," I said and got up. I walked over to the door and locked it. Turning around, I looked into her questioning eyes. I sat down again and took her hands into mine. Lucy, for me to help you I need your full cooperation and mostly your trust. Do you understand?"
"Yes Professor, I understand..."
"There is a difference between understanding, trust and cooperation, Lucy. You have to realize that you will have to put your full trust in me and most importantly, in yourself as well. Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes Professor, I think I can. I am desperate enough to trust just about anyone now, especially you." Her eyes, filled with determination as she squeezed my hands.
"Okay, stand up," I ordered. "First, let's see how far you're prepared to go to help yourself."
Lucy rose slowly, her flowery summer-dress swayed loosely around her slim body. The v-neck revealed a hint of white lacy-material covering her small breasts. I led her to the large mahogany cabinet in the corner of the office. With one hand, I opened one of the doors, revealing a full-sized mirror.
I stepped behind her and placed my hand on her shoulders. "Okay Lucy, first I want you to look at yourself," I whispered softly against her ear, "I want you to discover your own beauty first. Look into your big brown eyes, see their passion, feel their warmth."
She breathed deeply as I ran my hands along her exposed arms. Her body leaned warmly into mine.
"Now, look at your mouth, your lips. Do you see their fullness, their warmth?"
"Yes, I see," she whispered.
"Lick them, taste them," I coaxed her.
Her tongue darted hesitantly across her lips. She watched with renewed interest as the pink tip of her tongue followed the contours of her moist lips. The vision of this simple act caused an unknown sensation within her chest, making her breathe deeply again.
"That's it, just relax, and breathe slowly. You are doing well," I said as I slid my hands over her shoulders, caressing them lightly up-to the smoothness of her long neck.
"You see, that wasn't so bad. I want you to be totally relaxed before I continue, okay Lucy?"
"Yes, Professor, I am okay." She continued to breathe slowly as her tongue slithered more frequently across her moist lips.
She paused briefly as I tugged on the zip behind her neck. Slowly, I pulled the zip-catch downwards towards the small of her back. Her eyes widened briefly, but she did not attempt to stop or question me. I felt a faint stirring in my own crotch where the firmness of her buttocks rested lightly.
"You have such a beautiful body, Lucy," I said, I sliding both my hands onto the bare flesh of shoulders.
"My boyfriend…"
"Stop, Lucy. Remember, we're not concerned about your boyfriend here. It is you we're trying to take care of first. I want you to see yourself as others do. How can you expect other people to love and respond to you if you can't do it yourself?"
"But I am so plain looking. I wish I had blonde hair and bigger breasts. I will trade my body any day for one of those beach-babes on…"
"Lucy, it doesn't matter what your body looks like, the main thing is, if you can't love yourself, and enjoy yourself, no other physical attribute is going to change that. We have to except the way we look, only then can we feel good about ourselves. Can you understand that?"
"Yes, Professor," she sighed as she leaned her head against my chest.
"Let's see what you look like," I said as I slid her dress over her shoulders. "You have such an aristocratic looking neck, long and slim, very inviting to be touched, to be kissed." I slid her dress further down her arms to around her waist, exposing her small laced-covered breasts.
Lucy shivered as the cool air caressed her exposed flesh. Her mind raced as she tried to understand these unfamiliar sensations, spreading uncontrollably through her trembling body. She tried to find sense in what was taking place. The awkwardness of her standing in front of a mirror, being 'forced' to look at her own body, a body she had been living in for the last twenty-six years. A mere transportation device for her soul, kept a stranger from her inner-self, dividing her eternal existence between the sinfulness of pleasure and survival of her soul.
Constantly, her mother would lecture on the merciless wrath that might befall her if she ever attempted, either by her mind or own hand, to explore such wicked and unholy territory. She struggled endlessly during her puberty years with these unrelenting temptations, denying herself the answers to these forbidden sensations, forcing them with great difficulty from her mind. Right up to the age of twenty, the year her mother died, she had never been with a man, never as much felt a hand or another pair of lips on her. She was shy, afraid, and withdrawn. She could not even undress in front of other girls in her dormitory whilst at university.
However, here she is now, her body melting against the body of her mentor, guiding her towards the liberation of her bonds. She hesitated slightly, waiting for the pounding in her chest to slow down as she took deep breaths. His burning hands are on her bare skin, touching, yet not touching.
"You really do have nice breasts, Lucy," I whispered again. "They're perfect for your slim body, look at their shape. They look little ripened pears, ready to be plucked."
She stared for a while at first, not sure what she was looking at. She noticed the darkness of her areolas through the thin lacy material. To her, they were mere unnecessary appendages, which only subjected her to pain, another reason her friends constantly teased her about.
She stiffened as she felt my hands brushing against her skin to the centre of her chest.
"Just relax, and remember, breathe. I will stop if you want me to." I waited silently, keeping my fingers on the clasp between her breasts.
Her body relaxed again as she took another deep breath. "I'm okay. I just…"
"Don't explain to me Lucy. You don't have to explain to anyone. This is your body, you can do with it what you want, and when you want to. Do not let anyone control it. It belongs to you, understand?" I emphasized.
"Yes Professor, I think I do," she said bravely.
"Say it. Tell me that it belongs to you. Tell yourself!"
"This body belongs to me," she said softly.
"Say it again, louder."
"This is my body," she said with an edge of passion.
"Good, you're doing well, let's continue." My fingers worked on the clasp of her bra. I pulled the two cups away slowly and slid the bra down her arms. I watched as her nipples started to protrude from her milky white breasts. "They are so beautiful, Lucy. Can you see that?"
"Yes, Professor-"
"Call me Dan."
