Emily talked on and on, and Larry appeared to listen from behind his desk. But as he maintained appearances, he let his mind wander over a variety of things. His secretary had left hours before. He was alone with Emily in the church. Her mini-van was parked just outside his office window. He could see the empty child’s seat in the back. His sermon for Sunday was finished and ready to be typed. The sermon lauded the charity of the early Christians, but for the moment it lay in the stack of yellow legal pads on the corner of his desk.

Emily had come to the predictable part about her husband’s most recent rejection. She paused and he brought himself back in time to launch an empathetic grimace. An encouraging pastoral nod got her to continue. It was the right touch of encouragement, and it worked.

This was only her sixth counseling session with him. He was certain of the number since he had checked his appointment diary before she arrived. Six sessions over six weeks. When would she begin to show the signs? When should he make his move?

With the college girls it had been different. Perhaps he had been a little too impatient in the beginning, but with some experience he had often seen the signs by the second visit.

Larry had been the chaplain for a Presbyterian campus house while he finished seminary at another school nearby. The college girls who came to see him usually had problems at home, or problems with pressures around school, or problems with boy friends. He had learned quickly how problems with boy friends usually had a sexual element to explore. Attraction? Rejection? Frustration? Inexperience? Desire? Curiosity? Forbidden Fruit? It was a mix, Larry came to think. For him, the fastest, most efficient path to conquest lay hidden in their blending of youthful curiosity with their raw desire to taste the forbidden fruit.

With the college girls it only took three, maybe four sessions to discover the best route.

With more mature women, married women like Emily with homes to manage and children to tend to, it took more time. But not a lot more.

Emily had paused and was waiting for him to respond.

“How does that make you feel?” he asked. He had absolutely no idea what she had just said, but he furrowed his brow in concern and waited for her to go on.

“It makes me feel so unattractive,” she told him in a muted voice. Her head was down; her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Larry smiled to himself. Some, he told himself, are almost too easy. With this one, it was time, but he mustn’t rush. He looked her over more carefully. Khaki skirt cut just below her knees. No hose. Leather clogs of some kind. Comfortable dark blue cotton sweater. Preppy, he told himself. Maybe thirty-two in age. A little heavier than when she finished college, he reckoned. Perhaps she hadn’t lost all the weight after her child’s birth two years ago. Hair cut short, but well taken care of. Diamond studs. Two in each ear. A hint of modest perfume.

“But you are attractive,” he began soothingly. “Very much so.” From experience he knew his pause at this point was crucial.

Then he delivered the key line: “At least you certainly are to me.” He said this with a practiced look as she raised her eyes to him. The look told her of his embarrassment over this confession of attraction. The look had worked its magic many times before.

Her smile told him everything he needed to know.

“May I talk in confidence with you?” he began.

“Of course,” she answered with more than a hint of surprise.

“Don’t misunderstand me. Everything you tell me is held in the strictest confidence. But I was wondering if I might ask you to let me reveal a bit of myself with the same assurance of confidence. After all, I do feel we’ve grown quite close in a very short period of time.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Please. You can trust me as I trust you.”

Larry took a deep breath and suppressed the grin that wanted to curl across his face. For effect, he let his body slide down a bit in his chair. Then he rose and came from behind his desk to take the chair beside her.

Emily unclasped her hands and turned in her chair to face him as he took the seat.

“Emily, we have much in common, I’m afraid.”

“Reverend…”

“Please,” Larry interrupted, “Please call me Lawrence.”

Emily only nodded her consent.

“You see,” he went on, “I too am engaged in a marriage that is incomplete in so many ways. I too am left to wonder what it must be like to have some kind of special compatibility with a spouse. A bond, I think it is, Emily, a bond of intimacy and passion. Don’t you think passion is important, too?”

“Yes, yes, very much. I think I just couldn’t bring myself to say it to you, but yes, oh, yes, passion is so important.”

Larry smiled warmly as he began to seal the envelope on their pact.

“Do you have fantasies?” he asked.

“Fantasies?”

“Yes,” he pushed gently, “Sexual fantasies? Ideas and images of healthy excitement? Experiences and feelings missing in life for people like us, perhaps? What harm can fantasies be, after all? Surely God has blessed us both with a special energy, and that energy often shows itself in fantasy, fantasy of all kinds.”

Emily blushed deeply as she began to form her answer.

“Yes, Lawrence, I do. I do have those kinds of fantasies. And I feel so relieved to know you understand.”

“I certainly do understand, Emily. I too have sexual fantasies. But in saying that, I need to ask you this. Do you think there is something to be gained in sharing those fantasies? I mean, if we cannot, either of us, find those things we desire in our marriages, can we not explore them somehow? Can we not explore what eludes us in real life?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“We both desire that passion you spoke of. We both want and need it, but we can’t find it in the marriages we’ve been destined to honor. Why not find ourselves a way, a safe yet glorious way, to touch those places we’ve been denied? Why not help each other find happiness? Why not explore ourselves and our deepest fantasies in the safest, purest place possible? Here, Emily, here together in the eyes of God we can fulfill ourselves, and help each other while we do it. Praise God, Emily! Praise God, that He in His ultimate wisdom gave us such an opportunity!”

Larry leaned back in the chair, gazing at her softly all the while. That was the total package, delivered better than usual even if he did say so himself. Would she bite, he wondered? Christian compassion nearly dripped from his face as he waited to see.

Emily took a deep breath and smiled a smile of hope. She very nearly began to glow.

“Yes, why not?” she said in barely more than a whisper. “Why can’t we help each other?”

Larry leaned forward and took her hands in his.

“Surely God has made this time happen for each of us,” he said with every ounce of piety he could muster.

“Next week, my dear Emily,” he continued smoothly. “Next week bring me a fantasy that excites you. Share it with me. Don’t hold back. Tell me everything. Every detail. Write it down if you like. Read it to me. Reading is just fine. Reveal yourself to me. And I will do the same for you. I will give you one of my fantasies. You will see me as no one as ever seen me. We will bare ourselves to each other in our healing.”

Emily repositioned herself in her chair before telling him, “I feel so much better, Lawrence. I feel as though I can go home now and look forward to something. Even if Eric won’t talk with me or do the things I’ve needed him to do for so long, I feel like I can focus on next week and use this new door to let these things out of me in a good way.”

Larry rose from his chair, still holding her hands, and pulled her to him. It seemed natural for them to hug, so they did. Perhaps it was his impatience from his college girl days, but whatever the reason, he kissed her.

She went rigid in his arms for a second, then relaxed, molding her body against his. Emboldened, he slid his tongue over her lips and inside her mouth only to discover a responsive, receptive tongue already coming out to meet him. Emily moaned in his arms as he drew her even closer to him.

Should he touch her, he wondered? Should he risk it at this stage?

Before he could decide, she broke the kiss but pulled him to her tightly. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.

“We have been denying ourselves what we need for too long, Emily,” he tried. “Why deny ourselves this?”

He kissed her again, more carefully this time, to give her time to ponder self-denial, need, and opportunity.

Larry broke the kiss, so he could whisper his challenge. “Feel me. See how you excite me. I told you how attractive you are. Feel the proof.”

Her hand moved between them and found his cock rigid inside his slacks.

“Can you leave that now?” he asked.

She surprised him by pulling away and stepping back. Her face was flushed; her countenance clearly unsettled.

“We shouldn't...”

“I understand completely,” he told her, smiling reassuringly. “Of course, you’re right.”

He had been wrong, he saw quickly. She hadn’t been ready.

“I hope I haven’t upset you,” he told her without invading her physical space.

“No, no, not at all," she said through a soft smile.

She tugged at the base of her sweater as if to cover herself and took another step backwards. “Next week, Reverend?” she asked almost timidly.

“Lawrence,” he reminded her, still smiling calmly but moving back behind his desk. “And Emily,” he continued, “Only bring along your fantasy if you’re totally comfortable doing so, okay? I will understand either way.”

“Yes, Lawrence, of course. And thank you. You’ve given me so much to think about today. So very much.”

“Steps,” he told her as he eased into his desk chair. “We’ll take reasonable steps together though this, Emily. Just reasonable steps, I promise.”

His promise hung in the air as she self-consciously waved her goodbye and quickly left his office.

Larry pushed himself back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin.

Two weeks, maybe three, he told himself. Three weeks at the most, then she would fuck him. And she would thank him for it.

copyright 2001
All right reserved.
For reproduction permission, contact coltrane_2000@yahoo.com

continue the story here: Part Two: Mirrors