I retired from playing professional basketball overseas a few years ago. While it sounds like that meant I had it made, the 20,000 Euro per year salary was nothing to brag about. I was lucky enough to have parents wealthy and loving enough to support me financially, while I lived out my dream of getting paid to play.
I had a blast playing in Germany for seven years. I got paid to do what I loved to do and, even with the low profile, women still found it hot to hook up with a "pro" athlete. Now that I was back in the US, I still got paid what l enjoyed doing, albeit not as much as playing ball.
I worked in a small family therapy practice and even though I tried to help out married couples with the marital or parental issues, not being married or having kids of my own did not give me the street credit that I needed.
It was my former college coach who suggested me focusing on sports psychology. I was glad that I heeded his advice since I began to work on young athletes. I helped them with anything from overcoming anxiety to building confidence. The demand soon became high enough that I decided to start my own sports psychology practice.
After receiving some money from my parents, that my dad called a zero percent interest loan, I was a proud owner of a brand new professional suite, one blocks away from my alma mata and only a couple of miles away from another college in town.
My clientele ranged anywhere from eight years old, whose parents are willing to spend any money to get their child the edge, to middle-aged men, who want to become better athletes at the local Y. I felt bad for some of the younger kids since their anxiety usually came from their overbearing expectations of their parents.
After about a year in practice, I began to give seminars to local sports teams. I really felt that I could make a difference to those young men and women. I still remember to this day what I wore and the brand of chips I was eating when I received a call from coach Mike, who was now the head coach of my university.
"Did you hear the news, Dan?" he asked frantically.
"What are you talking about?" I asked in return.
"Jennifer committed suicide," he explained.
"Sorry, Jennifer who?" I asked confused, my mind racing trying to remember all the Jennifers I knew.
"From the girls team. You met her when you spoke to the team last month," he explained.
My heart sank instantly. I did not admit this to Mike, but I had a very strong concern after Jennifer pulled me aside after my talk. She shared some things with me in haste and knew that even though she did not mention any thoughts of self-harm, that she was a young woman struggling with the darkest demons.
Mike mentioned that he already spoke to coach Bre and she asked him to find out from me if I was willing to come talk to the team again. I agreed instantly and promised to come to their first practice the following Monday.
It was the most somber team meeting I had ever been part of. I offered my condolences and told them that coach Bre would send them a link to my calendar. I was going to offer to provide counseling sessions for free, but coach Mike told me that the school would send a sub-contract agreement and pay me my hourly rate.
Out of the fourteen women on the team, ten signed up to meet with me and after a month of some intense therapy sessions, that number dwindled down to three. Even though the pain seemed to run deep for some, they all healed well.
Allie, a red-shirt Freshman, was Jennifer's roommate and took it the hardest. She was the only one who still felt that she needed to see me. The university had no issue flipping the bill, so we continued the session two months.
I honestly don't remember the first time I felt energy between the two of us. I was attracted to her early on, not only physically, but also by the way she responded to our sessions. With each passing week, she began to smile and even laugh more. I noticed hints of advances coming from her when she began to show up in attire that left me with a hard-on after she left.
Jennifer was six feet tall and probably barely over 150 pounds. Her mixed parents seemed to have created a perfect mix of DNA. Her light brown skin looked flawless, and her brown hair reached her lower back, even when it was slightly curled.
It was a late Friday session, my last one of the day, when Jennifer's outfit drove me wild. She showed up in three-inch heels, a pair of skin-tight high waist leggings and a crop top. Even though only about an inch of her slender stomach was exposed, it was enough to compete with her cleavage when it came to my eyes' attention.
After we spoke about her week for the first ten minutes, I had to hide my erection with my notepad. She had her legs crossed on the couch and even the subtle dangling of her feet became sexual foreplay for me.
"Can I ask you a question Dan?" she asked after a brief moment of silence.
"Sure!"
"Why are you not married or in a relationship at least?" she asked, staring me right into my eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"You are handsome, successful, and really nice to talk to so what am I missing?" she asked.
I was taken aback by the comment and did not know how to answer. The honest one probably would have been that I enjoyed my free-for-all lifestyle, but since I came back from Europe that had not translated into too many times of meeting other women.
"I don't know. I am not gay, if that's what you are wondering," I said.
"Oh, I can tell," she said with a mysterious tone.
"Meaning?"
"The first time you came to campus, we could tell that you were checking some of us out," she said.
"Hmm," I said, feeling myself getting embarrassed.
"Oh, now you are getting all shy on me. Sorry. I am not trying to make you feel uncomfortable," she said.
"Then what are you trying to do?" I asked.
"Not sure. Trying to feel you out, maybe," she said with a smile.
I became tongue-tied and I got to the point of being embarrassed by my lack of confidence in that moment.
"Fine, if you won't ask, I will. Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?" she asked.
I had to shift my crotch around to make room for my ever-growing erection.
"Sure, I would love to," I said. "Where would you like to go?"
"I am easy, anywhere is fine," she said.
It was 5:15 at that point and I had no desire to keep charging the university for our small talk.
