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Dr. Balis:
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Hello, Sharon.
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Ms. Lough:
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Hi. This is for you.
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Dr. Balis:
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Thank you. What is it?
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Ms. Lough:
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It's a short story I wrote for class. I though you might want to take a look at it.
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Dr. Balis:
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I do want to read it; I'll take a look at it later. Thank you. Now, how was your week, Sharon?
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Ms. Lough:
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Well, I'm never having sex again. Maybe I'll go to Tibet and become a nun. Think of the advantages: I could wear the same baggy clothes every day, and they'd shave my head which would eliminate my dandruff problem. I wonder if they allow cripples.
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Dr. Balis:
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What happened?
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Ms. Lough:
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Lila fucked me over again, and I let her. I went to class late, hoping to sit at the back of the room away from everyone else. But Doris made me move towards the front. And that little bitch said: "Come sit by me." I had no choice. She kept looking at me, trying to catch my eye, while I made an effort to either stare straight ahead or down at my notebook.
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Dr. Balis:
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Were you still angry with her about the incident at the bar?
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Ms. Lough:
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No, I had gotten over that. I listened to that tape you gave me, and some of those techniques actually worked.
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Dr. Balis:
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Good, I'm glad to hear you're using the tape. So were you trying to ignore Lila?
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Ms. Lough:
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Yeah, but I lost my resolve by break time. That guy on the tape was right--it's a lot of work to stay angry. I asked Lila how she was doing. She didn't mention the blonde from last week. After class, she asked if I wanted to go to her house. Her parents were going out that night; she said we could order pizza and watch TV. I thought it sounded harmless enough, so I said yes.
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Dr. Balis:
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Please continue.
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Ms. Lough:
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When I got to Lila's house, her parents were dressed up and ready to leave. Lila's mother was cold and imperious. Even a social moron like me knows you're supposed to be polite to someone else's parents. I said, "Hello. I'm Sharon. I'm in Lila's class. It's nice to meet you." She gave me a nasty look and yelled at her husband to get ready. Lila's father didn't even acknowledge me. Maybe I was too ingratiating. Next time, I'll greet her with: "Suck the shit out of my ass, you slant-eyed cunt."
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Dr. Balis:
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I'm sure Lila's mother will appreciate that.
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Ms. Lough:
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Lila shouted for me to come upstairs to her room. I was on crutches--not all houses are wheelchair accessible. As I was working my way up the stairs, I had this sense of foreboding, as if something was not quite right, but I ignored it.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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When I finally got to her room, she was sitting on the bed, waiting expectantly. I sat on the bed--there were no chairs in the room. Lila must have taken out the chair that belonged to her desk set for my benefit. She wore a sleeveless half-shirt and jeans with holes at the knees. She wanted to show me something--a book on her nightstand. When she got up, I saw her jeans had holes in the back, and she wasn't wearing any underwear.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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She sat close to me on the bed, on the pretext that she wanted to read me a passage. I thought it was that Casals book, but when she began reading, I knew it was something else. I caught a glimpse of the cover--she was holding it so I couldn't see--it was an anthology of lesbian erotica called "Bushfire." I'd read it a few years ago.
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Dr. Balis:
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I see. What was going through your mind at that point?
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Ms. Lough:
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I was angry. I felt manipulated. At the same time, I also felt like I had to prove myself. She was teasing me, daring me, bending over to pick things up with those holes in her pants.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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I took the book from her hand and tossed it onto the floor. She had a little smirk on her face. I wanted to smack her. Instead, I pulled her towards me and kissed her. She kept her mouth tightly closed. At first, I thought I'd misread her. But when I pulled back, she was smiling, taunting me. I said, "Stand up," and pulled her up by the waistband of her jeans. She said, "You're giving orders now?" But she got off the bed and stood in front of me.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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I got her to take off her clothes, and then I tried to play with her tits--what there was of them. She pushed my head down and said, "Get to the good part."
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Dr. Balis:
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How did that make you feel?
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Ms. Lough:
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Angry. I knew she was using me, but I was turned-on at the same time. And I could tell she was excited, too. So I pulled her onto the bed and did what she wanted.
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Dr. Balis:
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Was it what you wanted?
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Ms. Lough:
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I enjoyed it, the physical part anyway. I hadn't done that in a long time; I'd forgotten what it was like. I always thought that a wet pussy smells like hot buttered popcorn. Is that what it smells like to you?
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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And it tastes like McDonald's sweet and sour sauce for Chicken McNuggets. Anyway...
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Dr. Balis:
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Sharon...
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Ms. Lough:
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You always interrupt at the good parts.
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Dr. Balis:
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Sharon, it's...
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Ms. Lough:
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She seemed to like it when I put my finger inside her.
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Dr. Balis:
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Sharon, I get the idea.
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Ms. Lough:
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I got two, three, and then four fingers into her easily--I think she must have done that before. And maybe there wasn't much of a stretch--my hands are pretty small, see?
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Dr. Balis:
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Yes, I see. Sharon, our job here is not to dwell on the details of your sexual encounters. What we should be doing is discussing how this encounter made you feel. Did you feel...
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Ms. Lough:
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I brought all my fingers and my thumb together, to form a point...
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Dr. Balis:
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Sharon, you're...
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Ms. Lough:
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And then, it was like I was sucked in--my hand was all the way in before I even realized it.
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Dr. Balis:
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Did you take any precautions?
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Ms. Lough:
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Fisting women isn't a high risk activity.
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Dr. Balis:
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On the contrary. It causes rents and tears, and you came into direct contact with her vaginal secretions. You really should have used gloves and some sort of barrier protection. And...
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Ms. Lough:
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Do you always carry a full arsenal of safer-sex supplies in your pocket?
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Dr. Balis:
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That's...
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Ms. Lough:
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Anyway, I didn't bring any. I didn't care at the time, my mind was buzzing. It was very intense, I felt this strong connection to her, having a part of me inside her.
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Dr. Balis:
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Yes, but...
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Ms. Lough:
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I could feel her contractions as she came, and it was like I was having an orgasm, too. After she came, Lila pushed me off and went to the bathroom. When she came out, she said she needed to make a phone call; she already had the phone in her hand. I could tell by her tone that she was finished with me--it was time for me to show myself out. As I left, she chirped, "Thanks for stopping by."
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm. How did you feel, Sharon?
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Ms. Lough:
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How the fuck do you think I felt? I felt like shit! I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. I knew all along she was just using me, but she didn't have to be so blatant about it. There was not even a thank you or a fuck you, just get out.
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Dr. Balis:
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I see. What did you do after you left her house?
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Ms. Lough:
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I caught the bus and stared out the window at the lights. I was so dazed, I missed my stop and ended up on the other side of Golden Gate Park. Since I was in the area, I decided to drown my sorrows at the Big Heart Cafe, that tacky all-night diner on Geary.
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Dr. Balis:
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I see.
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Ms. Lough:
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When I walked in, the waitress gave me a funny look. I didn't realize why until I started picking at my face--I didn't even think to stop by the bathroom before I left Lila's house. I ordered first, then I went to the bathroom and washed my face and hands. My reflection in the bathroom mirror looked so pathetic. I went back to the table and spent the next few hours staring at big-screen TV while shoveling ice cream into my mouth.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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Never underestimate the therapeutic value of sugar and carbohydrates. In the short-term, it's much more effective than psychoanalysis, no offense.
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Dr. Balis:
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None taken.
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Ms. Lough:
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When I was finished, I went back to the bathroom, got on my knees on the tile floor, and shoved the two fingers that had been inside of Lila down my throat. I forced myself to vomit until there was nothing left inside me. I looked in the mirror as I rinsed out my mouth. I looked like a newborn infant; my face was pink and raw, my eyes were almost swollen shut. The paper towel dispenser was empty, so I had to dry off with toilet paper and then pick little flecks off my face afterward.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm. Why did you make yourself vomit?
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Ms. Lough:
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I told myself I was stupid for allowing this to happen. She only wanted me to service her, so she could brag about her conquest. All my sexual experiences are like that. Whether I'm with a man or a woman, I'm always the one on my knees doing the wet work. No one ever gives a shit about getting me off.
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Dr. Balis:
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Sharon, you're hurt and angry, and I do think you were used this time. But from what you've told me, you don't always communicate your needs to your partner. When you want something, the best way to get it is to ask for it directly, like Lila did.
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Ms. Lough:
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What the fuck do I have to do, spell it all out for them? Write it in the sky with an airplane? Do an interpretive dance?
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Dr. Balis:
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You could ask, tell, or show your partner directly how you like to be touched or what sort of sexual activity you prefer.
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Ms. Lough:
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That wouldn't have worked with that selfish little cunt. And it's common courtesy--when someone gets you off, you should do it for them in return. She didn't even express any gratitude. Why did she have to do that to me?
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Dr. Balis:
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Lila is very young. Teenagers are extremely self-centered. She may not have realized the emotional impact of what she did to you.
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Ms. Lough:
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Hmm. I think she knew exactly what she was doing and the effect it would have on me, but she just didn't care. I don't know if it bothered me even more because she was female. If a man had done that, I would have dismissed him as yet another asshole. With a woman, it seems like a personal betrayal. I spent all night fuming about it. I was enraged, and I was almost in tears as I waited for my bus outside the Big Heart Cafe. When it finally arrived, I wanted to throw myself in front of it. When I got in bed with Rob, he rolled toward me and put his arms around me. I usually hate it when he does that because he generates so much body heat. He's always warm and sweaty. But that night, it felt good, kind of. I could feel myself wanting to cry. I held my breath and willed myself not to. Rob asked if I was okay. I said, "Yeah," and he went back to sleep.
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Dr. Balis:
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Did you tell Rob what happened?
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Ms. Lough:
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No. He and Charlotte had a don't ask, don't tell policy. He probably suspects something, but wants to be spared the gory details.
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Dr. Balis:
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How do you feel talking about this now?
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Ms. Lough:
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I feel like the world's biggest loser. I should always wear a t-shirt with "welcome" written across it. I act like a fucking door mat.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Ms. Lough:
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I don't want to talk anymore. Our time's up.
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Dr. Balis:
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Are you sure you're all right, Sharon?
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Ms. Lough:
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Yeah. I'll wallow in self-pity for a while and take a nap. Then I'll be fine.
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Dr. Balis:
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All right, Sharon. You can call me. If I'm not here, my answering service will contact me.
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Ms. Lough:
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Okay.
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Dr. Balis:
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Goodbye, Sharon.
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Ms. Lough:
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Hmm.
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###
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Doctor Balis' Notes on this Session
Transcripts of Sharon Lough's Communications
