A Christmas Futa Ch 4

“I just feel disconnected,” Riley admits dejectedly. “I literally haven’t seen my wife today. My family’s being weird. I mean, I’m glad Mom and Kayla are finally kind of bonding over something, but what the hell? Free Gurls? They’re the two straightest women on Earth. And they’re going to get all this attention at the party tonight, but I don’t think it’s the attention they want. Not in those outfits.” Riley blows out her breath and sags. “And Ingrid? I don’t know, man. She’s been even weirder than them. I couldn’t get her fucking gingerbread. I can’t wrap her presents without getting these goddamn like crinkles on the edges. Like, no matter what the little triangles don’t come out right so there’s this extra little pinch that means it’s not tight. Drives me fucking batty. And now she’s like being distant and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve always felt this way. She’s so far out of my league and she’s a genuinely good person. How did this happen? How is this working? It’s not.” Riley stares into space. “You know what kills me? She doesn’t have a kink.”

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Dester says, brows rising.

“Kink. She doesn’t have a kink. Like, we have sex a lot and I think she likes it. I mean, I can get her off. I’m pretty sure she likes it. And she has like sensitive spots,” Riley says, gesturing toward her chest. “But she doesn’t have a kink. There’s not like a thing that she wants. You know?”

“Is that different from you?”

“I mean, I’m pretty vanilla I guess, but yeah, it’s different. Like I want to do stuff. Specific stuff. I like to play with her boobs. Finish on her boobs. Lots of stuff. And when I’m like doing that stuff, that’s the real me. And you can see that. But I don’t get to see that with her, because she doesn’t have that. I just wish I knew what she wanted. I want to make her happy.”

“Maybe she is happy.”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know if it’s language or what. Her English has gotten really good, but she still doesn’t talk that much. And my Swedish is straight trash. I mean, she’s into it when we’re together, but it seems kind of different from how I’m into it.”

“Riley, you have a penis.”

“Yes.”

“I also have a penis, and I feel like I can speak for a lot of men by saying that finishing is a priority for us and something that we tend to feel urgent about. But that’s not necessarily the same for a woman. It’s not as though women don’t want to feel good, but I want you to consider the possibility that it might be even more important to them just to share some intimacy with someone that they care about. Just being intimate might count for more than an orgasm or a kink. Priorities can be different.”

“You’re crazy. I’m a woman. I want to cum,” Riley states flatly.

Dr. Dester puts his hands up. “I don’t need to die on this hill. But I do need to remind you that I am not your therapist.”

Riley blinks. She looks around at the examination room in Gurlberg’s tiny clinic. “Right. Yeah.” She clears her throat. “Sorry. What did you ask?”

“I asked if there was any soreness.”

“Oh. No. There isn’t.”

“Great. I do need you to put your clothes back on.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” Riley hops off the exam table and picks up her underwear. “I just don’t feel like I’m doing enough.”

“Riley, your Mom is one of the best people I know. Your Dad? Not so much. You need to unpack this in therapy, but this isn’t about your wife. You’ve never felt like you were good enough. And it wasn’t just because the penis made you feel different. And we know that’s an irrational mental health issue because you’re conventionally attractive and a successful professional athlete with a beautiful wife. Rationally, you should be feeling OK.”

Riley grunts in reply to that and keeps dressing.

“Am I gonna find out you had a crush on Mom in high school?”

“Everyone had a crush on your mom in high school. Some of the girls too.”

“Of course,” Riley says bitterly.

“Look, everything’s back and I think you’re good to go. I sent an email to Dr. Michaels. Your wife married you. I’m assuming that she wants to have children with you. I would take that as an indication that she cares about you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Are you stalling right now?”

Riley twitches. “No.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Riley,” Dr. Dester says, holding up his wrist to show his watch.

Riley sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“Merry Christmas. And good luck.”

“Merry Christmas,” Riley replies and shuffles out, pulling on her jacket.