The Surrogate

"I know this must feel really strange," she said, grinning. "But it's okay. Each time it's going to get more comfortable.

"I'd like you to do your masturbation exercise, just as you do when you're alone, using the clock to make it to 15 minutes. Of course it will be different with me here--some men find that exciting, others just get nervous. But it will allow me to see how you're doing, and make suggestions that might be helpful.

"You can either look at me, watch me, or simply turn away and forget I'm here--whatever works for you."

Michael had gratefully looked away. He masturbated trying to pretend she was not even in the room. It didn't work, of course, but he made it to 15 minutes.

When he was cleaning up Marina said, "that was great, Michael--I'll bet you never lasted that long before the last couple of weeks, right?"

He nodded, finding himself smiling, and she said, "I'll just mention a couple of things and then we're done for today." And she talked about technique, about being aware of his breathing, focusing on his arousal level and when he needed to back off on the stimulation a little--all the things he'd read in the book, but it was helpful to be reminded of them.

Now, sitting in the therapy office with Elizabeth, Michael heard her say, "pretty soon Marina will begin on the next steps with you. The basic principle is simple: as you are increasingly able to control your ejaculation during masturbation, we'll add more excitement to the situation.

"Marina will begin by taking her top off and letting you see her breasts. Later on, she'll be completely naked. She may have you touch her at some point; and she will certainly take over the masturbation herself, which for most men is much more exciting than doing it themselves. That adjustment usually takes a little while to master."

Elizabeth didn't say any more, but Michael knew what lay beyond: actual sex with Marina. The idea gave him intense but conflicting feelings: excitement, embarrassment, terror. Terror that his premature ejaculation would return. Masturbation was one thing, but actual intercourse with a beautiful young woman? It intimidated the hell out of him.

"I can imagine that you're feeling some unease about all this." Elizabeth was right, of course. "But I want to reassure you, Michael, that you're right on track. Everything so far is going just as we hope it would, and there's no reason to think that the rest of the therapy won't go just as well. We're actually pretty good at this stuff, you know."

She smiled broadly, and Michael found himself smiling back.

"Thanks," he said. "That really does help. I was feeling a little...worried, I guess. Intimidated."

She nodded. "That's okay--perfectly understandable. But we're going to get there."

Then she looked at him more seriously. "We're about done for today. But next time you and I need to start talking about your marriage, and what happened to it."

Michael nodded. "Okay," he said. He knew that this was coming. Elizabeth had been patient and kind, but it was the elephant in the room that couldn't be ignored any longer.

********************

"She called me 'Trev'. We were making love, and she called me by her lover's name."

Michael had walked in for his next session with Elizabeth, plopped himself down in the chair, and launched into the story without even saying "Good morning." It was obvious he was worked up--he'd been preparing to get this off his chest.

Elizabeth would have preferred to hear the story in order, but she just nodded, letting Michael tell it his way. They could always backtrack later.

"We were--I was going down on her. Joanna's ... not all that open, sexually. I guess I've told you she's from a pretty conservative religious family, and.... Well anyway, mostly our sex life is pretty vanilla, I guess you'd say. Only a few positions, and I've never once had ... oral sex from her.

"But once in a while, if we get a sitter for the kids and we go out on a Saturday night, she'll have a couple of drinks, loosen up a little? And when we get home the sex is ... well, she'll let me, uh, lick her.

"Since I never last very long inside her and I can never make her come that way, I'm always trying to find ways to give her an orgasm before we ... have sex."

Elizabeth smiled. "You mean 'fuck'?"

"Yeah." He smiled back, shrugging. "I guess 'fuck' is a simpler way to say it.

"Anyway, I'll...touch her, you know, use my fingers. And I love giving her head, though she won't let me do it unless she's a little drunk. And I got a, you know, a vibrating, uh, dildo? I bought one once and brought it home, but she looked at me in horror and said Absolutely Not! So we've never used it.

"But when she's tipsy and I eat her out she just loves it. I mean, she starts to roll her hips around and moan, and she clutches the sheets or grabs my head or my arms--it's great! I mean, I feel like I'm actually turning her on, really really getting her off for once. So I do that whenever she'll let me.

"So I was eating her, you know, and she was close to coming, gasping, 'Oh God! Oh God!' the way she does, and she went, 'Yes! That's it! Oh God, Trev, just like that!' "

Michael sat back. Elizabeth waited, looking at him attentively.

"So of course I noticed it--I mean, I couldn't fucking believe it!--but I saw right away that she hadn't realized she'd said it. And somehow I managed to keep licking, and I had two fingers in her, uh, up inside her, and a few seconds later she had a big intense orgasm.

"And when she'd relaxed after maybe half a minute she gave me this gorgeous smile and said, 'c'mere, baby,' and pulled me up on top of her like she usually does, and so we...I just fucked her. Like always, except my mind was going a million miles an hour. I barely remember the fucking."

He laughed bitterly. "I probably even lasted longer than usual, because I was so distracted and upset. Anyway, when it was over Joanna snuggled up to me and was asleep in three minutes, like she usually is after she gets tipsy and has a good orgasm. But needless to say, I couldn't sleep--so I got up and went and sat in the living room for a while, just thinking about things."

Now that he'd gotten it out, Michael was calmer, and he filled in some of the blanks.

"Joanna works in the main office of a big pharmaceutical company, as an administrative assistant to a couple of Vice-Presidents. It's an okay job, and she has always liked the people. Well, maybe six months ago they hired this guy named Trevor McDonald. Joanna doesn't work for him, but he replaced one of the VPs that her friend Barbara reported to.

"So for awhile I heard a lot about him: he's much younger than Frank, brings a lot of new ideas, the staff all seem to like him a lot. And a couple of times she called him 'Trev', which kind of surprised me, you know? Like, rather informal for a relationship with one of your superiors. But I didn't really think about it that much.

"And then I realized that she didn't talk about him any more--for about the last three months or so his name just didn't come up. And now she's calling me 'Trev' while I'm eating her out?" Michael stopped talking and looked out the window. Elizabeth waited. She could see the strain on his face, the pain he was feeling.

"So--so I wasn't sure, you know? I mean, it could have been a fantasy, just some crazy thing going on in her head, she was a little drunk.... But I had to know.

"And I thought of all the other stuff you think of, when--

"I mean, days she was a little late getting home from work, or I called her office in the afternoon and no one could find her, that happened once. And a couple of times she just seemed flustered, you know? Like I asked her some routine question about work or her schedule and she looked startled or frightened for a moment.

"So the next day I called my oldest friend Artie, who works in IT security over at the University. We talked about it, and I asked him to help me hack Joanna's email, which took him all of about two hours, with me helping with possible passwords and stuff.

"And I didn't find a lot--no treasure-trove with dozens of messages or anything. It looked like she deleted stuff from her Inbox and her Sent folder pretty regularly. But I found enough. A couple of messages confirming times and places to meet. One of them was a Saturday, a day we'd planned to take the kids to the zoo. The day before, she'd told me there was a big emergency deadline for an FDA report and she'd have to work that Saturday, she was so sorry, and why didn't I take them to the zoo without her?

"Well it turns out she spent the day in his condo. Probably not working on an FDA report, you know what I mean?" Michael's voice was sardonic. He was in a lot of pain, Elizabeth thought. Who wouldn't be?

"You haven't told me about ... confronting her. And how it's been since then."

He sighed, looked down at the floor. "I got ahold of the emails on Thursday, the week after the night when she called me by his name. And I waited for her on Friday night. Usually after she tucks the kids in she comes downstairs and we watch TV, or just talk--sometimes fool around." He smiled sadly.

"So when she came down I just said something like, 'tell me about you and Trev, honey. How long have you been fucking him? Do you come a lot? What's it like?' You know, really hit her with it.

"And she got this shocked look, she turned all pale, and then a lot of tears, and 'I'm so sorry,' and 'it didn't mean anything' and 'you're the only one I love'. You know, blah blah blah. Just about what you'd expect.

"Although I suppose it could have been, 'yeah, I'm fucking him, and we love each other and I'm leaving you.' It wasn't that. It was all 'oh I'm so sorry!' So I got up and walked out of the house, just went for a drive, you know, thinking and fuming and wondering what to do next.

"And the next day she got me alone and started giving me this heartfelt apology, kneeling down and looking me in the eye and everything. And I just told her to fuck off. I never speak to her like that, not ever, and I know it really hurt her. But that's what I was trying to do, I guess."

"And since then? What's the state of things at home?" Elizabeth asked.

"Armed truce, maybe?" Michael laughed--not happily. "I've let her know I don't want a divorce because of the kids. I'm trying to keep it normal for them, and they don't seem to be upset. Yet. I'm sleeping in the guest room, and we told them it's because I have a little cold and don't want mommy to get it. They're only 7 and 3, so they don't pay much attention.

"And we both play with them and take care of them like always, and I'm never cold or rude to Joanna in front of them. When they're not around we pretty much don't talk, beyond 'we need milk' and 'can you take them to the dentist on Tuesday' and 'don't forget the party at the Pearsons' house next week'."

He and Elizabeth talked about it more, then and in his next session. About how their marriage and their sex life were before the affair. The short answers there were, really good and not so good. Michael was deeply ashamed about his premature ejaculation problem--it made him feel like less than a man. As an inexperienced bride Joanna hadn't known any better, and since he tried hard to please her with his fingers and with his mouth (when she let him), she always seemed satisfied--at first.

Later on, Michael said, it had definitely changed. "Like I told you before--I don't know whether it was because she'd read things, or talked to her girlfriends about their sex lives, or what. I just know that she became much more aware that most guys could, uh, go longer--and I could tell it disappointed her.

"She didn't say anything harsh, but she didn't reassure me either. Mainly just changed the subject. I tried things, read up on PE, brought home a vibrator--I told you about that, she flat-out rejected it, didn't even want to see the thing."

When Elizabeth asked him about the future, how he saw it, Michael got angry.

"I'll be damned if I know. I mean, I just refuse to be a divorced dad who never sees his kids. I adore Amy and Will and I'm a good father. I'm not doing that 'Wednesday night plus every other weekend' crap! And me living in some dingy apartment, while she keeps the house and gets to have boyfriends sleep over? FUCK that!"

He sat back, looking across the room at nothing. She could sense the anguish he was feeling.

"On the other hand.... I mean, right now we're living like roommates. Tense ones. We don't touch, there's no affection or trust, at least not from me. I'm pissed-off all the time, and Joanna's walking around on egg-shells, looking at me with these fucking sorrowful eyes.

"I can't see this continuing--not until the kids are out of the house!" He laughed. "For Will, that's like fifteen years! No, it can't go on like this."

Looking at Elizabeth he said, "I was hoping you could tell me what to do." It was a joke, but she could tell that he partly meant it. It was a common wish of therapy patients, an unconscious or semi-conscious wish that the therapist would just "fix things." A wish that could never come true.

********************

Joanna caught him on a Sunday afternoon, just after he put Will down for a nap. Their little boy still took naps many days, and he loved it when his daddy tucked him into bed. Amy was at her friend Iris's pool party.

"Michael, could we talk for a minute?"

He didn't have any good reason to refuse, so they went out and sat on the deck.

"Back when this all ... when you--" she stopped, and tried again.

"When you found out about my affair, you said that you weren't going to move out, that you weren't ready to divorce me. And you haven't said anything about it since then, and it's been nearly three months, so I guess that hasn't changed.

"But you're still in the guest room, and we're still ... not touching, let alone anything more than that. And you're still furious at me, and I still feel awful about what I did."

He was looking away but listening to her, not saying anything.

"So I was thinking--we're still here living together, maybe we could start trying to talk a little bit, see if we can't make it easier for each other, maybe a little less strained.

"I know you--you're not ready to forgive me or anything, and I don't blame you. But if we could at least talk--"

"I guess that's okay." He interrupted her. "But not about whatever you want, whenever you want. If there's something I don't want to talk about, that's it--I'm not talking about it." He was looking at her now, not angrily but seriously.

"Thank you, Michael--that's fine," she said. "And I want to start by telling you something. I've begun seeing a therapist. Her name is Agnes Lufield, and I've been going twice a week for a couple of months now. I knew I had to figure out why--"

Her voice suddenly broke, and she took a deep breath. "Why I could do such a terrible thing, betray our marriage the way I did."

"Is it helping?" he asked. He was thinking of his own therapy, of his sessions with Elizabeth and the surrogate work with Marina. Joanna didn't know anything about that, and he had no intention of telling her.

She laughed a little. "Yes and no. It certainly hasn't made me feel better about myself--worse, if anything. But I'm starting to understand a few things--one of them is how screwed-up I was in my attitudes about sex, thanks to my parents."

He nodded. That was certainly no surprise.

"Anyway, I just ... I wanted you to know. To know that I wasn't just sitting around feeling guilty, I was trying to do something about it."

She turned to him and took his hand, looking imploringly at him. "Michael, I'm so sorry! I know that what I did--"

He pulled away. "Joanna, I don't want to hear your apologies. They only make me angrier, okay?" He got up and paced around for a minute, then returned.

"You're right about us talking. That's a good idea. Let's try to talk more, about the kids, and vacation plans--stuff like that. But spare me the 'oh I'm so sorry honey', okay?"

She nodded and said, "okay, Michael."

"Good." He sat back. "Actually, I've been thinking about our vacation. Way back around Christmas we talked about a week at Disney World. Do you still want to do that? I think the kids would love it."

She smiled broadly and said, "oh yes, that would be terrific!" They talked about it for a few minutes, then went inside to get the Daily Planners each of them carried for work.

When they returned to the deck Joanna said, "Michael, I have to tell you one other thing. I don't want to wait."

He looked at her and she said, "Trevor is gone. He left the company, took a job out west. Barbara said it was in Colorado, I think, but I don't know for sure and I don't care."

Very quietly he said, "when did this happen?"

"About a month ago. But I hadn't ... I stopped having any contact with him after you ... found out. I sent him an email saying I wouldn't see him or talk to him any more, and I didn't want him to contact me."

Michael knew this was true. He was still checking Joanna's email account and he'd seen the message. It was short and blunt, along the lines of "This was a mistake, and I can't see you anymore. I'm sorry. Please don't contact me ever again. Joanna"

Joanna was still talking to him. "I thought that maybe ... maybe you'd tell me I had to quit my job, so I wouldn't be around him anymore. But you didn't say anything about it; and I was afraid if you divorced me I'd really need the job.

"And then I found out he was leaving, so..."

She waited. Finally Michael shrugged and said, "well I'm glad he's gone. Saves me the trouble of having to go out and run him over with my car."

She knew he was kidding, but maybe not quite 100%. He had a tight, closed look on his face, as though he was actually thinking about doing it.

Suddenly he said, "so when was the last time you fucked him?"

Joanna gasped, both at the question and at his use of the crude word.

"A few days before you told me you knew about it. I swear, Michael, since then I was never alone with him, not even for five seconds!"

She looked at him imploringly, squeezing her hands together. And he stared hard at her, some of the anger he was carrying around inside him visible in his eyes.

And then he shook it off, and said, "okay--Disney World. I was thinking that either of the first two weeks of August might work...."

They talked about it for another fifteen minutes, having the kind of conversation any ordinary married couple might have. It made Joanna happy--so happy she almost started to cry. But she also knew not to make too much of it. Michael still wasn't kissing or holding her, and he'd still be sleeping in the guest room.

And in two weeks or a month or three months, he might decide the Hell with it and tell her he was divorcing her.

********************

The work with Marina went on, with occasional set-backs but overall steady progress. When Michael could comfortably masturbate on his own for 15 minutes, she had him do it in front of her while she undressed; at first she was topless, then totally naked.

He handled that surprisingly well. But the first time she lay on the bed and masturbated next to him, his come shot into the air almost right away. He was embarrassed and disheartened, and Marina cheered him up.

"Don't give it another thought, Michael. Really--a hot chick lying next to you, playing with her pussy and moaning? You're supposed to get excited!" She grinned at him.

Smiling back, he said, "you are hot, you know--you have the most beautiful body. Your breasts are--" He stopped, looking unhappy.

She took his hand gently. "You were going to compare them to your wife's, right?" He nodded, looking away.

"That's okay, Michael--I'm flattered. You find her exciting, don't you?"