Sara's eyes opened slowly, warm sunlight filtering through the living room curtains, bathing Sara's feet in warmth as she sat on her couch. She soon realized she must have fallen asleep after finishing her research last night. The last thing she could remember was thinking about the items on her grocery list that she needed to pick up this weekend. She preferred to get her shopping done on Saturdays.
Her body was slightly sore from sleeping in such an awkward position, her neck in particular. She yawned as she rolled her neck from side to side, hoping to alleviate the tenderness.
The sound of a doorknob turning down the hallway clicked sharply, followed by another door being opened and closed. Adam must be getting up for a bathroom break. Sara raised her arms above her head and stretched for a while, letting the blood flow back into her limbs. She stood up and unplugged her laptop, placing it on the oak desk in the corner of the living room.
Sara entered her warm and inviting kitchen and started a pot of coffee brewing. Meanwhile, Adam had returned from the bathroom, joining his mother in the kitchen as he poured two glasses of cold orange juice from the fridge. Their movements displayed a sense of normalcy amidst the bizarreness of their recent interaction at the clinic yesterday. There was a palpable atmosphere between them.
"Here you go, Mom," Adam said, placing the glass of juice on the counter next to Sara.
"Thanks, honey," Sara replied. She pulled two coffee mugs down from the cabinet. One of the mugs was a gift she had received from the Dean of the medical school she graduated from many years ago. It was white and flared at the base with an ornate pewter handle. It had the University's emblem printed in silver on it. The other mug was a simple white one with the words "World's Okayest Mom" written on it. She smiled, thinking of her original reaction to this gift that Adam had given her last Mother's Day.
Sara finished preparing their coffees, with sugar and half and half, the way that both she and Adam preferred it. With a steaming mug in each hand, she placed the Mother's Day mug in front of Adam and sat down. She noticed a hint of a smile as Adam noticed which mug it was. They sat opposite each other at the small breakfast nook, neither able to meet the other's gaze for too long. Instead, they focused on sipping their drinks, hoping to ease the awkward silence enveloping them.
Neither seemed capable of breaking the ice. Finally, Sara cleared her throat, attempting to break the tension. "So, do you want me to get anything specific at the store today when I go shopping?"
Adam shifted in his seat as he took another sip, avoiding eye contact. "Not particularly...well, actually some smoked salmon would be good," he replied. Sara studied her son carefully, sensing his unease.
"There's actually something I want to ask you," Adam admitted. "About your job." His voice lowered with embarrassment.
"What's that, dear?" Sara inquired gently, her tone nonjudgmental and reassuring.
"Well..." Adam began haltingly, "How did you end up getting into this field anyway? I mean, urology is pretty straightforward. I meant the sexology stuff. It seems quite unique compared to most other professions."
Sara laughed softly, acknowledging her son's question. "Your observation isn't wrong, sweetheart.
Being a sexologist requires one to possess a certain level of comfort with matters concerning human reproduction and pleasure. To answer your question, though, it kinda happened organically." Sara explained with a laugh. When I was pursuing medicine, it became clear that my interests lay primarily in reproductive health -- specifically women's health. But soon enough, those areas led me deeper into sexuality studies. And here I am, helping people with various issues related to human sexual behavior. Though I understand if it might seem strange coming from someone like me," Sara elaborated, taking a sip of her coffee.
Adam listened attentively, intrigued by his mother's journey. He was unsure whether to ask further questions, fearing that he may cross boundaries they shouldn't explore together. However, curiosity got the better of him. "So, why exactly does my issue interest you so much?" he ventured.
"Well, I guess part of me always wondered what makes us tick when it comes to our bodies, especially when it involves such private acts. That fascination only increased when you told me about your condition. I had read about it vaguely years back, but I never thought I'd actually encounter it, especially in my own family."
Sara gave a thoughtful pause, considering her words carefully. "For me, studying human sexuality is almost like peeking behind the curtain to see how the magic happens. I believe that understanding ourselves better leads to a happier, healthier life - both physically and emotionally. Your condition piqued my curiosity because, although it was somewhat unusual, it also allowed me to dig even deeper into the complex world of human sexuality. I'm simply applying all my skills and knowledge acquired throughout my career as a doctor and sexologist to help you overcome this challenge, honey."
Intrigued by his mother's explanation, Adam considered the complexity of her profession. It appeared vast, mysterious, and full of fascinating discoveries. Yet, at the same time, it felt natural and genuine.
Adam looked at his mother with a look of discomfort. "So...I was really...um...stressed at the exam yesterday," he admitted. "It felt weird having you perform a prostate massage on me. I had no idea you were going to have me ejaculate right there. It totally caught me off guard." He looked intently into his mother's eyes. "I mean, were you uncomfortable too? Wouldn't another specialist have done just fine?" he probed, feeling increasingly vulnerable.
Sara reached across the table and placed her hand tenderly upon his. "No, I think you'd agree that having a personal touch often goes a long way in providing the best care possible. Plus, it allows for an open line of communication without barriers."
Adam nodded slowly, his anxiety easing marginally. Despite his discomfort, he understood the importance of trust and transparency in addressing this matter.
"Besides," she added. "I'm currently the only qualified urologist in the clinic and the only sexologist. Dr. Fredrickson is on maternity leave so I really didn't have a choice."
She chuckled, adding jovially, "But seriously, your case was a bit challenging at first, but I think I now have a solid grasp on your condition. I did a lot of reading last night and I think I have a good game plan for us. Don't worry, honey. We will work through this together. Your recovery is crucial, and I promise to provide my utmost support along the way."
As they talked, the morning sun radiated golden rays into the room, casting a gentle warmth upon them. It felt almost cozy in a peculiar sort of way, despite the weighty topics they discussed. They shared stories from their past, recounting memories filled with love, joy, sadness, and humor. This bonding experience helped alleviate some of the tension lingering between them.
"Okay," Sara said. "I have to run a bunch of errands today. I have to go see my friend Emily, go to the post office, get an oil change, and get the groceries. If you think of anything else you'd like me to pick up, just send me a text, okay?"
Adam nodded. "I will," he said. "Have a good time and be safe. Oh, and say hi to Emily for me." Sara nodded and gave Adam a hug before grabbing her purse from the door hanger.
Sara opened the front door and turned back to Adam. "Hey, tonight after dinner, I'll explain the plan for your treatment and we'll do our first session, okay?"
Adam nodded awkwardly and shoved his hands into his pockets, attempting to appear casual.
As Sara carried out her errands for the day, she kept thinking about how she would conduct Adam's treatment session this evening. There was a nervousness, a growing knot in her stomach. Her thoughts wandered back to the clinic yesterday. There was an excitement in her at the thought of getting to witness another incredible ejaculation. This would be a much more intimate experience, however, since it would be in their own home. Putting these thoughts to the side, she finished up her shopping.
Sara pulled into the driveway as the evening sun cast shadows from her oak trees onto the front of her home. Climbing out of her black SUV, Sara grabbed the bags of groceries from the back seat and brought them into the kitchen. Adam was not home at the moment, since he had had plans to go hiking with his friends. Sara had asked him to be home by 1900 for dinner and he was always great about being punctual. She smiled at the thought of what a good kid Adam was.
After Sara had emptied the contents of the grocery bags and washed her hands thoroughly, she began preparing a scrumptious dinner with ingredients she had picked earlier from the local farmer's market. She had decided to make chicken florentine, and for dessert, she whipped up a rich, creamy chocolate souffle.
As Sara was close to finishing the last of dinner preparations, she glanced up at the kitchen clock, which read 1840. Just then, the front door opened and Adam stomped into the living room with a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder. He was covered in a layer of dirt and dust, his boots caked in half-dry mud. He sighed heavily as he dropped the backpack on the floor, chunks of mud and grass scattering across the wood floor.
