Orgasm is a Choice

Kate sat alone on a long concrete chair by the sidewalk clutching her hair to her neck. A cold evening breeze blew across the lonely road spattering leaves from tall mahogany trees which she gently brushed off her satchel bag and her toned skin. She had just left Mrs. Thompson’s home, four blocks from where she sat, pondering over the words of the middle aged counsellor.

“Your emotions, your feelings towards your partner determines how much you will desire him,” Mrs. Thompson said to her, when she walked into the counsellor’s home, brooding over her relationship with Donald.

“I love him,” she told the counsellor. “I used to long for his presence, yearn for his touch and crave his body. I felt complete with him and we had it all good, including our sexual romps.”

Kate loved her sexual relationship with Donald and she could nearly orgasm from mere recalls of their coituses. He always pleasured her even with quickies and made her climax timelessly.

“It’s all gone south. I now despise him, I detest his cuddles and his scent disgusts me,” she continued. “I feel pathetic when he thrusts himself into me. He pounds on while I lay like an empty body whose soul aches for solitude.”

Kate looked up at the street with yellow coloured duplexes, wondering if the occupants were aware of the power their emotions wield. She was lost in her thoughts when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. Her eyes strayed from the buildings and fell on Donald who stood by her.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

Donald was on his way to Mrs. Thompson’s home for his counselling session when he saw Kate. They had both agreed to seek counselling but had kept their counsellors’ names close to their chests. Three months ago, he had a one night stand with a random girl which he reported to Kate a week later, and since then, she had considered calling off their relationship.

“Please don’t leave me, Kate, I’ll be lifeless without you,” he would pleaded.

Kate thought of her recent lack of orgasms from her sexual rendezvouses with Donald.

“It’s your choice,” Mrs. Thompson had told her. “You can choose to orgasm or choose not to, based on how you feel about your partner. Your emotions hold the power; your body is just a pawn.”

Kate stood to her feet and threw her engagement ring into the gutter.

“You never should have broken my trust in the first place,” she remarked and walked away briskly, trudging loudly across the road.

Suddenly, she heard a loud rev, followed by a bang and swiftly, she turned. She stared in disbelief at Donald’s body in a pool of warm blood. A fast-moving car had knocked him while he followed her and sped off instantly. Kate screamed aloud, piercing the silence that once permeated the lonely road. She wept uncontrollably, clutching Donald’s body to her chest.

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