Dr. Fellatio

by Author Stella

  “Where did you guys go?” Her interest surprised me, but everything Candi did was far from normal. She sounded lost in a dreamy state—like she was watching a love story unfold and she couldn’t wait to get to the happily ever after. An ending I wished I could give her…maybe at some point.

  “Roberto’s. It’s a pizza place. But we were in college and broke. It became the location we shared all of our big news and celebrations. Anniversaries, birthdays—each was with a beefalo and artichoke pizza in the corner booth.

  “Our relationship just evolved over time. He knew I was a virgin, and he treasured that, unlike most guys who used it as a way to taunt me. When I gave him that piece of me, he considered it a gift. Our hearts had connected long before we united physically, but that one action stole my ability to ever give myself to another man.” Regardless of what he’d said when I let him out at the airport, I doubted it had affected him the same way.

  The careful consideration that went into this night only heightened my anticipation. Chris didn’t want me to lose my virginity in a dorm room where we might be interrupted and thought hanging a sock on a door cheapened what I wanted to give him. We’d been dating for months, and we’d fooled around—done everything except it. He never pressured me, but when I was ready, we’d talked about it—extensively. Chris was determined to make tonight special.

  We’d just gotten back to the Omni—I didn’t even want to think about how much he’d spent—after having dinner at Bobby’s. Jasmine had asked me a hundred times if I was nervous, but there wasn’t an ounce of apprehension in me. He’d always taken care of me, met every one of my needs, and I trusted him with my soul—giving him my body simply completed that circle.

  There wasn’t an inch of my body or his the other wasn’t intimately acquainted with. We knew each other backward and forward leaving nothing to chance. Even with my lack of experience, there wasn’t an awkward exchange between us.

  He tugged the hand he held, bringing me to his chest and took the time to adore my neck. Stretching my head to the side, I gave him access to the part of my anatomy that turned him on most. It wasn’t my breasts or my flat stomach. Chris wasn’t aroused by my naked hips or the way my butt filled out my jeans—he loved the elegance of the line created from my shoulder to my ear. And he peppered it with kisses of tenderness that heated my insides.

  There was no rush to get to the main event—he took his time showing me how he felt and never cheapened the moment. When we’d finally shed our clothes, he lifted me off the floor, cradling me in his arms with mine secured around his neck, and took me to the bed.

  Even through the discomfort of taking him in, there was no urgency in his pace. And there, he captured my soul, forever binding mine to his in the most intimate act two people could ever share.

  I remembered every detail of his body coming together with mine, the way he held me when he’d hit the barrier only one man could ever break, to his hips rolling in perfect time with mine, to how he held me long after and stroked my hair, whispering words of love into my ear. I’d never felt more cherished than I had that night, and I hated that I’d never feel that way again. But somehow, Chris gave me that same “first” every time the two of us made love. It was never about reaching an orgasm, it was always about the two of us connecting—the finale was merely a bonus I got when the two of us had sex.

  “How long were you together?”

  I’d almost forgotten Candi was on the phone and wondered how long I’d been silent, lost in memories. “Three years in college—what counts after that I’m not sure. Anyhow, in that time, he taught me everything I wanted to know about making him happy. Not just physically, but in every aspect of our relationship. There was nothing we didn’t share, and our decisions were always made with the other in mind.”

  I told her about the statistical analysis test, and she seemed in awe. “My parents are like that. They’ve been married for thirty years. They’d die for each other.”

  She must have been doing some soul-searching of her own. The line stayed silent before she questioned, “Why would you ever let him leave?”

  It was an age-old question I’d been asked more times than I could count. Our friends knew he would have given up Washington if I’d just said the word, and I’d known it, too. “I thought we were strong enough to chase our dreams and come back together once we’d reached them. It was a young, foolish assumption on my part, but I never wanted to look back and either of us have resentment toward the other. I couldn’t steal something from him that he’d wanted long before he ever met me. And I didn’t want to follow him to Washington and end up hating him because I’d walked away from Miriam Pratt.” I left out information about my mother. It didn’t add anything to the part of the story Candi was interested in.

  “I couldn’t do it.” She was adamant that her decision would have been different—and for the millionth time, I wished mine had been.

  “His happiness was always more important than my own. I cried for months after he left, but eventually, life took over and so did the miles. Even when I agreed to a break because the long-distance relationship wore us both down, there was never a part of me that believed he wouldn’t come home after grad school.”

  I sat on the couch and watched the ceremony from DigiTech’s website while mourning the loss of the only parent in my life days earlier. It had been weeks since we’d spoken, not so much as an email exchanged, but I was proud of him. Chris had finished what he’d started, and in a matter of days, he’d be moving to California—without me. I wondered what it would be like to see him again, to hear his voice, to have his arms around me or his lips on my neck, knowing that day would never come. He’d left, my mom had left, and now, I was alone.

  I’d waited, though. Refused to believe he’d really chosen a job over me. I’d even called out of work thinking he might change his mind and come back. But after a week on the couch, I forced myself to acknowledge he wasn’t returning. I forced myself to start living, but I realized now, I’d never let go of the hope that he’d come back, and I’d only gone through the motions of life, waiting for the day we made amends.

  “That’s so romantic.”

  I couldn’t stifle the laugh that ripped through me. “Romantic?” I snorted. “Hardly. Misguided. Naïve. Stupid. It was all those things, but not romantic.”

  “How can you say that? It’s been years, and you haven’t let him go.”

  “Candi, clearly, he didn’t love me the way I did him, or he would have come back when he promised.”

  She sighed and ignored the part where there was no happy ending. “I’m a sucker for a good love story.”

  Me too. I just didn’t have one.

  “How’d you end up becoming Dr. Fellatio if you’ve never been with anyone else?”

  I hadn’t intended to give her any of this history, yet somehow, I kept talking, and she kept listening. “Just because I was a virgin didn’t mean I’d never done anything. But in all honesty, Chris took his time showing me—teaching me. And I shared that advice with girlfriends who weren’t so sure of their techniques. We were all young and experimenting, but each one of them had a ton of success and started referring other girls on campus. I realized there was an opportunity to make money teaching them what I knew, and I started charging for the information.”

  “Weren’t you worried about getting caught? Or your reputation?”

  “I probably should have been, but I didn’t think anyone would rat me out; plus, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I didn’t participate in their relationships—there were never demonstrations using guys on campus. And, what girl wants to admit she paid someone else to teach her how to give head?”

  “I’d be too embarrassed.”

  “Money was tight. My mom did all she could to help me with tuition, but college was expensive.” I again left out how enormous medical bills trumped my need for higher education. “I turned that endeavor into a business that paid my expenses so I didn’t graduate with a mountain
of debt. I never did anything I was ashamed of. And after I took the job at Miriam Pratt, I wasn’t earning enough money to live in Atlanta without supplementing my income.”

  “Did he know?”

  I assumed she meant Chris. “No.”

  “You have to fix this.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Sure it is. I want you to have your happy ever after.”

  “Those only exist in romance novels and fairy tales.”

  “Do you write books?”

  “No.”

  “Then I guess you better start living your dream.”

  I glanced at the clock and noticed how late it was. Time had flown by surprisingly fast, and I’d even enjoyed talking to my client. Now, I had to bring her back to the reason for the call to give her direction.

  “You need to talk to Christopher, Candi. I’d bet money it’s not that he isn’t interested, rather he’s inexperienced. And for a guy who’s used to being a fly on the wall, suddenly having the admiration of a woman who could double as a runway model is likely intimidating. Your communication needs to start there. You need to gain his confidence and trust. Then you can start to teach him the rest.”

  “Oh my God, I could be Dr. Woman.”

  Dammit. Just when I thought I’d brought this to a close, she’d gone off on some harebrained tangent I couldn’t let go. “Do what?”

  “The female version of you!”

  “Candi, you do realize I’m a woman, right?”

  “Duh. I meant you teach women, and I can teach men. Well, one man. The only one that matters. And since I don’t have to have a license…”

  Her heart was in the right place, even if her thought process was a tad misguided. “Then that would make you Dr. Cunnilingus.”

  “Oh no, my last name isn’t Cunningham.” In my mind, I could see her shaking her head as though I didn’t understand. “It’s Caine.”

  Without correcting her, I conceded. “Dr. Woman it is.”

  10

  Chris

  I slowly woke up, yet I still lingered in that grey space between slumber and consciousness. Without opening my eyes, I began to grasp my surroundings as they gradually came to me. The first realization was that I wasn’t in a hotel room. I could tell that simply by the well-worn couch cushions beneath me and the heavy aroma of vanilla. I was home.

  As pieces of reality fell into place, I remembered coming up the escalator last night after the long flight from California to Atlanta and finding Carl standing by baggage claim. He had a torn square of cardboard in his hands, held close to his chest, with Ricky Bobby written—scribbled—in black marker, and the goofiest grin plastered on his even goofier face. With as late as my plane landed, I’d planned to take an Uber home, but seeing him after being away for what felt like an eternity made me smile—although, I’d never admit that to anyone. Ever.

  Once I became cognizant of being home, the realization of what day it was sent a wave of panic through me. I had to be in the office first thing this morning, and my alarm hadn’t gone off. There was no way I could’ve slept through it, which made me question if I’d even remembered to set it before collapsing onto the couch and passing out.

  My eyes flew open, my hands already in search of my phone, when the sight of CeeCee startled me upright. She sat perched on the edge of the coffee table, less than a foot away, facing me with the most dramatic, ecstatic smile splitting her bright pink lips.

  “Oh, goody!” she exclaimed. “You’re awake!”

  “What time is it?” And how long have you been sitting there?

  “Just after six.”

  I found my cell on the floor next to me and grabbed it, the time on the screen showing I still had fifteen minutes before my alarm would sound. I hadn’t overslept. I scrubbed my palms down my face, needing a moment to calm my racing heart, and asked, “What’s going on, CeeCee?”

  “My name’s not CeeCee.”

  Her matter-of-fact statement forced me to drop my hands and look at her, wondering what the hell she was talking about. When I’d first noticed her there, I was too frightened by finding someone staring at me while I slept to take in her attire. She donned a long, white coat adorned with a stethoscope around her neck, tucked neatly beneath the collar. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be made of plastic, like the kind a child might have gotten from the toy aisle at Target. And on the left breast pocket, “Dr. Woman” was written on a piece of masking tape in what looked like marker, but rather than an O, it was a pink heart.

  “Do I even want to ask?” I couldn’t tell if I was still asleep or if my plane had crashed last night and this was what afterlife was like. God, I hoped this wasn’t where I’d end up after I died.

  “I know…it’s early, but since you’ve been gone for two weeks and you have to go to work today, we weren’t given much time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Your first lesson.”

  Yeah, I didn’t want to ask.

  “I’ve spoken to Alex, and I’ve come up with how to get her back.”

  Okay, that caught my attention. “Oh yeah? How?”

  “By the way, why didn’t you tell me she calls you Chris? Unless she doesn’t…in which case, none of the information I have pertains to you.”

  “I used to go by my middle name. Now, tell me how to win her back.”

  “It’s easy. She still loves you, so there’s your in. At least you won’t have to waste time making her fall in love with you all over again. Now you just have to remind her of why she did so in the first place.”

  Hearing her tell me that Lexi still loved me wasn’t new information, but my heart reacted to it all the same. “Is that all the advice you have? Or did she say anything I could use to my advantage?”

  “Well, she seemed distracted when we were talking about you, so I wasn’t able to get many details. But the gist of it was, she fell in love with you because of your passion.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about and halfway wondered if she knew. “Passion? Passion for what?”

  “She didn’t say, just that it’s how you approached everything in life.” She seemed pleased with herself, as if she believed this information somehow held the key to all my problems. “And I’ve gotta say, Patrick, after hearing her talk about you, I’m convinced that you guys are what love stories are made of. I mean, the way she spoke about how much you loved her…it was inspiring. Most women do nothing but doubt how other people feel about them. It’s some insecurity gene we’re all born with. It comes with the X chrome.”

  I wanted to correct her—about so much—but there wasn’t enough time for that. Instead, I shook off my utter amazement over how she’d made it this far in life and asked, “What am I supposed to do with this, CeeCee?”

  “Nuh-uh.” She shook her head and pointed a polished nail to the name on her coat. “Dr. Woman. Apparently, you don’t need a license to practice medicine like I originally thought. You know…?” She tapped her index finger against her chin in thought before adding, “I’m pretty sure if more people knew that, there wouldn’t be a shortage of doctors.”

  Growling in exasperation, I scratched the short hairs along the top of my throat. “Anything else, CeeCee? If not, I need to take a shower and shave.”

  “Basically, my advice to you is this: you were able to win her over once by being everywhere, even though you two weren’t in the same classes or social circles. So be everywhere again. And her voice turned all dreamy when she talked about how respectful you were, and how you never pushed. I’ll keep getting more from her while you work on stalking her.”

  It may not have been the kind of help I would’ve liked, but at least it was something. Lexi and I had talked about everything when we dated, we had amazing communication skills—granted, that didn’t work out so well for us while we were apart—however, I didn’t believe she’d ever told me any of that. The reason she fell in love with me, or what it was about me and our relationship that held such value to he
r. Hearing that gave me inspiration and lit a match under my motivation.

  Work had been a shitshow. Luckily, I didn’t have to clean up any messes or fix anyone’s stupidity—just two weeks’ worth of crap I had to catch up on. But still, that took up my entire day, which meant I was left with no time to “stalk” Lexi. In fact, I’d even hurt Carl’s feelings when I told him the course was closed for the day. Thankfully, he got over it when I told him I would make it up to him.

  CeeCee wasn’t home when I walked in, so I took the opportunity to utilize one of my other soldiers. I dialed Jasmine’s number and waited with a beer until she answered. “I need your help.” I ignored her babble about how everyone does, and continued. “I need to remind Lexi of all the reasons she loved me. The problem is…I’m not really sure what those reasons are. I mean, what I considered important parts of our relationship might not be the same as hers. You know?”

  “And you somehow think I can tell you what those are?”

  “Don’t you two talk?”

  “Dude, I stopped listening to her voice ages ago.” Apparently, we were back to that again. “You can’t remember anything special you did for her over three years of dating?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just…” I wasn’t sure I could admit to much without giving CeeCee away, but at this point, I couldn’t worry about that. “I found out recently that one of the things she loved about me was how I never pushed her into anything. I never would have guessed that was something special to her, because it wasn’t like I went out of my way to be patient. It was never even a thought, much less an effort on my part. I was hoping she’s told you stories of us or maybe talked about something she missed about me. Anything.”

  There was some rummaging on her end of the line, like she’d set the phone down to pilfer through a closet. Then she came back on, sounding almost winded when she said, “Oh, look at that. I found a box. I have no idea what’s inside, so I’m going to open it and tell you everything I see.”