Dr. Quentin Long
“Dr. Q, your last clients just arrived. They didn’t fill out the questionnaire, so I’ll give them a paper version and bring them back when it’s done,” my assistant said, poking her head in before closing the door without waiting for a reply.
I finished up a couple of case notes from the last session while I waited for her to bring them back. It seemed like they would never come. I had been waiting for them for about 15 minutes when I checked the time impatiently, almost ready to ask the assistant what the holdup was. This was cutting into their session, and I wasn’t extending them another minute over.
Finally, the door opened, and in walked a person who didn’t need any introduction to me. I would remember that pretty ass face, brown skin, and those long ass legs from anywhere. It didn’t seem like she needed any help remembering me either, because as soon as she saw me, she froze, stopping mid-stride, before gathering her composure. I stood to greet them both,and she handed me the clipboard before I shook her and her husband’s hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I said before I motioned for them to take a seat. She sat underneath his arm, and her eyes roamed my office. I could tell that she was anxious now.
“Let’s start with introductions. I’m Dr. Quentin Long, Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist. Ten years of counseling, eight years specializing in Marriage and Family Therapy.” I clicked my pen, ready to take notes.
I motioned toward her husband so that he could break the ice.
“Timothy Thompson,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“Breeze Thompson.” She cleared her throat and leaned back.
I kept a poker face, but her name was just as pretty as her. It fits her perfectly.
“Your ages?” I asked.
“Thirty-two,” he replied. I nodded and jotted it down.
“Gotcha. What brings you by today?” I asked as I flipped through the questionnaire that I normally review before a session with new clients.
The papers cited no marital issues, so I was confused about the reason for the visit. And when nobody spoke up, I raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Uh,” He started before he chuckled. “I’ll get straight to the point. My wife and I have been together for almost twenty years. I’ve never been with anybody other than her, and vice versa. About a week ago, we went to a game night, and some things went down. Nothing sexual with other people, but afterward, we talked about it and decided that we wanted to incorporate some things like that into our marriage. I guess we wanted to figure out how to do it and still have our foundation.”
As he spoke, I could see her shrinking, as if she regretted coming. I know when she agreed to or suggested the session,she didn’t expect me to be the therapist they saw. Now she was sitting here, flustered, because her freaky side had been exposed.
Admittedly, I normally didn’t see clients who wanted to navigate being swingers or whatever the hell they were trying to get into. This was probably a first for me; usually, they’d come to me after the fallout from what they did, but never to know how to do it properly.
I wrote down what he had said. I took the opportunity to ask Breeze questions to ensure she agreed with her husband's statement.
“Mrs. Thompson, you’re quiet. Is this something that both of you want?”
“I suggested it,” she said softly as she shifted in her seat and pulled down the end of the skirt that she was wearing.
I took another moment to write some notes before I looked back up at her.
“Is it something that you want to do? Or is it something you think your husband wants to do? I ask because I see this type of thing more than you would imagine. A wife who has a bit of resentment for her husband after she feels like she gave him what he wanted. I’ve never seen anyone come to me beforehand, so I commend you both for that move. But still, if this isn’t something you both want and know how to navigate, the visits will look a lot different in a year or two.”
I had to be honest. I saw this situation more often than people think. If both didn’t truly want it, I’d advise against it.
“My husband and I have been together for twenty years. I had never thought about letting anyone else touch my body until I was in a room that didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, but just made me feelalive. I never cared about what I was missing and only saw him. But that night, I realized there were experiences we would never have because we had only been together. I mentioned it to him, and he said that he felt the same, so herewe are,” her tone was confident, but she never made eye contact with me. Her hands stayed on this one loose string on the end of her blazer. She twirled it around her finger.
“So now, knowing what I know about Mrs. Thompson suggesting the arrangement…are you comfortable with it? Would you be able to live with knowing the person who has given her body to only you for twenty years had sex with someone else?” I asked Mr. Thompson. I had to extend the same question to him. It was only fair, because I wouldn’t be okay with her fine ass leaving the house from day to day.
He stared at her for a moment, smiling. I knew I’d made my point. He chuckled, “All the time? Hell no.” I laughed too.
Then he continued. “I guess I can’t say what I’d be cool with until it’s a reality. But if I had to guess, I feel like I’d be okay with it knowing that it was a one-time thing. Like she had her experience, and we moved on from it. I’d be way more comfortable if the one experience were a woman. But that’s not really her thing.”
“Mrs. Thompson, same question. Would you be comfortable with knowing your husband was with someone else?”
She chuckled and glanced at him with an unreadable expression. After a deep breath, she covered her face, and I gave her a moment before rephrasing. Then she looked up.
"I’d probably want to watch, but I wouldn’t care."
