"Did you come?" Jason grunted.

yes to my senses. Ugh, I hate him.

If you have to ask it's a no. Dick. I don't know why he bothered asking, he didn't care either way. Just wanted a stroke of his ego. I rolled onto my side, mumbling a yes. Internally groaning at the bruises he'd gifted my ribcage last night. He was vile with a drink inside him.

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, waiting for him to leave, I needed him out of close proximity.

I paused my scrolling, its content suddenly interesting.

"Intimate therapy" it read, huh?

Intrigued I clicked onto the link, only to be met with a sight that cured me of all previous frustrations.

My mouth watered. My eyes honed in on his hands, his fingers. Muscular and _capable._

Underneath his picture read, "My pleasure is yours". No other info, beside his number and location.

Those four words had me pressing my thighs closer. A pathetic attempt at soothing the ache slowly consuming me.

I caved, I couldn't live like this anymore.

Before you accuse me of cheating, Jason was no angel. He carried his nickname, man whore, out of college and into our marriage. Jason got violent when I tried to bring it up. I hadn't told anyone, I simply couldn't. Covering bruises came to be too much so l just ignored his infidelities. I'd received the, "Hey girl I know you don't know me but..", messages too frequently to care for my actions at this point. If he could have fun, so could I.

With unstable hands, I dialled the number to the clinic. Second thoughts invaded my

mind, but my body needed this, I needed this.

"Hello you've reached heath cliff clinic how can I help you?", spoke a chirpy feminine voice.

"Hi, I'd like to make an appointment please, for intimate therapy.” God, I sounded as pathetic as I felt.

"Yes that's great can I take your name please madam?” She spoke softly, as though she sensed my discomfort.

"Riley,” I spoke, hushed.

"Great so we've got Friday at 5

available, for an hour's slot. Prices are $300 a session. We strive to be the best, our prices match our commitment to you Riley.” she said this so confidently, I felt obliged to accept.

This was pricey but I couldn't find the energy within me to care, my body thrummed with excitement.

"Yes, Friday is fine, Thank you.”

"Great, Tristan will take good care of you Riley,” She said in a tone teetering on either amusement or encouragement.

"Tristan?" I questioned.

"Yes, Tristan is the man you will be completing therapy with." My mind wandered, Tristan? Oh.

**Him**.

Tattoos and sin tightly encased in the finest of suits.

Could I go through with this with him?

I'd thought enough, no more thinking.

"Okay great, thanks.” I said hastily, ending the call.

Two days. It had only been two days since the phone call. But it had been years since I felt this way. The desire now coursing through me could no longer be ignored. My entire body had become nerve endings. I knew this because every time Jason touched me a static ran through me. Instead of the delicious shivers, whispered amongst women, it was the static you get from sitting idly. That feeling from being in an uncomfortable position for too long, far too long.

I'd taken all the precautions necessary, l'd been waxed and plucked, you name it.

Jason insisted I wear fancy underwear in the bedroom, the uncomfortable kind that gave you infections. Ugh. I bought entirely new garments, needing something intimate of my own he'd never tainted. I kept my outfit simple, loose-fitted trousers and a white tee that highlights my assets. I left my brunette hair to dry naturally. After applying makeup and lotions I was happy with my appearance,

so l left. Not before knocking back a glass of wine.

As per every Friday Jason was out drinking with his friends. Friends meaning pigs who enjoyed sexually harassing women, but

what's new?

Giving my lipgloss one final touch-up, 1 spotted the Uber.

"Ray?” I said, to the mid 50's gentleman with salt and pepper hair. I always asked their names upfront, can never be too careful.

"No, it's John ,miss," he said, confused.

“I'm kidding, just testing you, 2nd street please" I said, the wine now flooding me with warm encouragement.

"No worries miss, i understand, I have daughters myself,” he said heartily.

Arriving outside I was sure I was at the wrong building. The shard had nothing on this place. Surely this couldn't be it?

But there read on a plaque in black and white, Heath Cliff clinic. Thanking the driver, I Blew out my nerves with a shaky breath. I pushed through the crystal-like revolving doors. The luminous lighting did no favours to put me at ease.

At the grand reception sat a smiley redhead with eyes that immediately comforted my pummelling nerves.

"Hello miss, you must be Riley?" She said

"Yes, here for my five o'clock appointment," I said.

"Okay so your appointment will be held upstairs past reception and straight down to the right,” she said matter of factly so l didn't miss a beat.

I smiled in return, appreciatively.

Reaching his office, had me now sweating.

I knocked twice, no response.

"Okay, I'll let her know, just go In madam.”

The Brunette said from the desk, entirely monotone.

Stepping inside, my heartbeats began stuttering. Yes, plural.

I could smell his cologne. The scent was woody and smoky, invading every single sense. Logical thinking was now out of the

question, his aroma hindered my ability to breathe.

I sat in the chair opposite his desk, snooping the expanse of the place.

The large black, glossy desk had been placed back centre. Its walls were blue, navy accenting two of the four.

The dim lighting did little to ease my nerves, but I'll take any sense of comfort I can get right now. A grey leather sofa sat at the back of the room. Oh god had he had..? had they?

Halting my thoughts to a stop, the door pushed forward.

"Riley?” His voice instantly caressed every inch of my skin, now erupting in goosebumps.

_Breathe riley_, my subconscious nudged.

"That's me, you're Tristan?” I said, trying to steady my uneven breaths.

"Yes, Riley.” He responded, his voice laced with seduction. Intentional or not it affected me still. Though Judging by his confident demeanour, I suspect everything he did had a certain charm to it. He advanced toward me, his lengthy strides devouring the distance between us. Our nearness gave me little breathing space, his presence already too overwhelming.

Taking his seat behind the desk, I took my time studying his outfit. Without doubt, he had his clothes tailored to his physique, the fabric curving with every contour of his body. I always found a good dress sense appealing. His black dress shirt and trousers were ironed to within an inch of their life, two buttons remained undone, revealing his toned chest. How did they get work done around here? God, I sounded like a feline in heat. The irony

that he could pounce at any given moment didn't escape me. Sinking my teeth into my lower lip I suppressed a smile, amused with my train of thought. Looking up from the notebook he retrieved, Tristan tracked the movement. I could've sworn the centre of his steely eyes dilated. The sight heated my skin, arousal swirled throughout my veins.

"So Riley, what is it that you think we do here?" he questioned, seemingly eager for my answer, but somehow entirely stoic.

"I wasn't entirely sure, but I assumed you'd help me, sexually," my face began to burn with embarrassment, I all but prayed the earth would suck me into its vacuum.

"I see, let's begin shall we?", he said his face betraying no emotion.

What?! God, thank fuck I had matching underwear on. Surely this wouldn't happen immediately?

I hadn't thought this through.

"I’ll hit you with a few routine questions and then we'll delve deeper into why

you're here, Does that sound okay?" Не said, suddenly solemn. I inwardly cringed at his use of "hit", my mind shifting to the place I desperately needed to escape from.

"Yes that's fine," I spoke thrown off by the fact I was just mentally preparing to have sex with this stranger.

"It's essential I inform you that you mustn't have any sexual relations during our time together, Riley. As for relationships that's entirely up to you, but any intimacy with a partner would interfere with our progress," he said emphatically, leaving me with no option but to oblige.

I shook my head yes "Okay, that's fine.”

"Riley, may I ask are you in a relationship? it just helps me cross some T’s," he asked whilst rolling his sleeves up, revealing his thick dark ink. Some sort of animal encircled the muscle of his forearms, i suppressed a quiver. I was always a sucker for tats.

"I am yes, married," I said on a swallow, I came here to forget him, this was the last thing I wanted to think about.

“Happily"? His lips quirked, ever so slightly at the question.

I averted my eyes from his, unable to be present with this line of questioning.

"I guess you'd call it complicated" I spoke, my mouth forming a line of discomfort.

"I see, if you don't mind my asking, what sort of complications? The better I understand you the better our sessions will be. I like to be thorough." He said, his voice lowering an octave. He had to stop doing that. My passiveness toward his temptation would only last so long.

How much do I tell him? I mean it would feel good to unload these burdens onto a total stranger. Once these sessions were complete I would never see Tristan again.

Fuck it. What did I have to lose? It's only my Life.

"I'll keep it simple, he's not a patient man, he's easily led astray. If it were up to me I'd be rid of him tomorrow, but I guess life isn't that straightforward, is it?" I said quicker than l'd intended, he likely missed half of it. I took pleasure in the surge of relief that fled through me.

"If? Why is it not your choice?" His eyes flooded with malice but not toward me, for me. His interlaced fingers began locking, his knuckles whitening. Heat swirled in my belly. Anger.

Rage.

The threat of violence. This should scare me should it not? Yet nothing. His anger gave me a strength I hadn't possessed in forever. I fed off of his fury. I should be angry. I should be furious. For a long time, I'd been a doting and submissive wife. well fuck that and fuck him. Sounding all of that out loud, hearing myself speak of what l'd just sat and taken, provoked a frenzy of rage within me.

This Kinda isn’t the prompt but oh well!🩷