"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"I need a man, Doctor--"
"Mia, I have to stop you there. The words you're using are emasculated Jack. You already have a man. He's in this room, sitting next to you on the sofa. You've chosen this man; he's your husband. It's clear, however, that Jack is uncomfortable with your request to open the relationship."
"It's not opening the relationship if he gets to watch me--"
"Is that how you see it?"
"How else can I see it, Dr. Greene? Tell me?" Mia's eyes flashed in anger. Her hands balled up into fists at her sides.
The doctor responded with a fixed smile and the two women stared at each other unblinkingly for a minute that felt like eternity.
"We're almost out of time today," the therapist said. "Today's session was introductory; our next one will be a full hour long. There's a lot to work through, but I'm happy with the progress you both made, and I hope your are, too. Mia, you've stated your needs loud and clear. But you have to stay open to meeting them in a ways Jack is comfortable with as your husband."
The therapist then turned to Jack: "Jack, you have to face Mia's frustration for what it is. Like you, she has a right to feel sexual pleasure. Maybe the issue is penis size, maybe it's somewhere else. The two of you will need to open up and figure it out together. Let's meet again next week -- I'll ask my assistant to get in touch. Before we wrap up, I'm giving you homework: I want each of you to think about what you want out of this relationship. Write those things down. Then think carefully about your limits. Write them down too. Do this by yourselves, when the other one isn't around and at a time and place that welcome introspection. Between the things you want, your limits, and what your spouse wants is the middle ground, and that's where both of you can feel both comfortable and satisfied. Don't share with each other; we'll discuss your lists here in a safe space when we meet."
----
The open-plan office stood empty. Everyone had gone down to eat except Mia, who stared blankly through the window pane to her right.
She didn't feel like she was missing out on much anyway; the cappuccino in the corporate canteen smelled like crap, and Mia found the pasta blander than a prepackaged meal on an intrastate flight.
The couple's therapist only made things worse, she mused.
It had been three days since the session -- and a torturous four since Jack and her had last had sex.
"Progress..." Mia's inner skeptic said, in a high-pitched theatrical voice. "Progress... Small or not, I used to get dick. Now, I get no dick at all. Thanks a million, Doc. What a help. Try swapping husbands with me in bed for a day and then tell me to get a dildo."
It wasn't that Jack had a micropenis -- he was what most women would call "average." It was that Mia had slept with hung men almost her entire life, and Sean, her ex, was the biggest. If Jack's penis wasn't average-sized, they'd be a perfect match.
In the early days of them being together, she thought she could ignore it. But with time, Mia's small-penis problem only grew bigger.
Jack had been keeping his distance from Mia since the therapy session, which infuriated her. He'd would wake up at different times. Go to work early. Work until late. Bring work home. Fixate on housework. Spend extra time in the gym... Anything to avoid spending time with her. The sexless days felt like being chastised, and Jack's avoidance left Mia anxious. It was as if she didn't exist.
As Mia kept staring through the window, someone on her floor came up behind her. She could tell by the perfume that it was Pete.
"Hey, Mia!" Pete said. "You do know that lunch breaks are for taking a break from work, right? It's in your contract."
"Maybe I have to hustle through my lunch break because you keep distracting me."
"You should report me to HR."
"Maybe I will." Mia shot Pete a look and twirled her pen in his direction.
"Then I'll get disciplined. Is that what you want for me, Mia?"
"Oh, Pete, I would do anything to see you disciplined," Mia said in an exaggerated, near-orgasmic tone. She felt her nipples harden.
"I better go before HR spanks me, then."
"You better -- or I'll do the spanking myself."
Mia and Pete exchanged smirks and Pete went off to have lunch with the rest of the Legal department. Mia swung in the swivel chair, looking around. She moved closer to her desk and played with her hair. She was up to no good.
She stuck one hand under her skirt, spread her legs as wide apart as the skirt let her, and held the elastic edge of her thong to the side. She traced her slender middle finger over her narrow, wet slit and, upon inspecting the finger, confirmed her suspicions: the exchange with Pete had left her dripping.
Mia stuck the finger in her mouth and coated it with a big glob of spit, which she smeared on her labia, parting the lips so the crevice around her hole flared out like a shy flower. She teased her clit, drew circles around her vagina's opening, and hitched the finger's textured tip back up again, each brush more forceful than the last.
A sharp gasp escaped her mouth when Mia bent the finger at the knuckle and plunged it in her pussy, smudging the grool on her panties as warm, pearly juices gushed out from her finger's intrusion. Mia looked around one more time to check for coworkers: there was no one around to be found. Her ring finger and middle finger came together like scissors and Mia used the full force of her wrist to start pounding her pussy while taking turns wrecking her hole and rubbing her clit in a frenzied rhythm.
She pictured herself riding Pete cowgirl-style as Jack watches from the ottoman at the end of their bed. In her fantasy, Mia sank onto Pete's dick, circling her hips to tease him, before diving wildly onto the rest of his manhood, which made Pete groan like a bull in heat. They swapped tongues and locked lips, then Pete pulled her hair aside, licked her neck, and bit her ear. Mia, gliding up and down Pete's shaft, smacked her hips into Pete's again and again as her silver fox of a cowoker filled her up, stretching her inner walls to the point of tearing until they both came so hard that Mia's world went black.
Mia was agonizingly close to the edge now. The unmistakable sounds of queefing and squelching kept echoing on the cheap-plastic keyboards and monitors on the office floor. She reached orgasm, closing her eyes and screaming out in self-induced ecstasy as she quivered on the inside and trembled like a sex junkie in her seat.
Once Mia regained composure, she slipped out of her creamy thongs, scrunched them up into a ball, and gracefully made her way to the clothes hanger in the other end of the building where Pete hangs his motorcycle jacket. She stuffed them in Pete's inner pocket.
"That will teach Jack to ignore me," she smiled before sneaking into the ladies room to fix her hair and makeup.
