I Am Enough Ch. 01

My doorbell rang at exactly 10 am. He was punctual; scheduled and punctual.

"Hi..." My jaw just dropped slightly.

"I'm Noah." I am staring a few seconds too long.

"Hello. Please come in." My profession is to help others find their voice through talk therapy. Right now, taking in all that is Noah has taken my voice away completely.

"Thank you, Dr. Simon." He is passing so close to me that his scent, subtle and clean, suddenly fills my lungs; and this next breath I take is a very, very deep one.

"Please...it's Benjamin. Ben will do, nicely. Glad to meet you, Noah. My work space is on the lower level." I gesture for him to take the stairs. I follow as my mind shows me a memory of walking around Michelangelo's 'David' - that time I was in Italy with friends. My pace was slow, deliberate. My eyes feasted on the magnificent vision before me, just like they are now doing with Noah. He has gotten to the landing, and I am still many stairs behind him...wanting the world to slow down so I can memorize every nuance of his back, his movements, his wonderfully full and firm buttocks currently encased in clinging fabric; swaying ever so gently with each step he...STOP! This is a client. Just stop!

"Sit wherever you like, Noah. Let's get comfortable. There's refreshments over there, for anytime you want. Think of this space as a safe one. It will really help us get into a healing rhythm." His face has just gone from tense and nervous to relaxed and ready. Noah has a beautiful smile.

"Thanks...Ben. This is nice. I didn't know what to expect. But this is nice." He has chosen one of the plush and comfortable arm chairs, the type that you feel hugged by. A client's choice of seating tells a lot to me.

"Let's start with a walk around the concern that has brought you here, Noah." He adjusts his body into a more upright and stiff position that matches the determination on his face.

"Okay." I wait. He needs a bit of time to organize his thoughts. I have the ability to 'see' into a client's mind; and to know what he is thinking even as he processes his thoughts. Noah requested this meeting for the purpose of finding help in dealing with his concept of himself. That concept had been mangled in his childhood; and he, at 28, is ready to face, understand and make changes to himself. As Michelangelo stepped back to view his completed 'David', did he contemplate making changes? As I now gaze at the figure of masculine perfection sitting before me, I am reminded that what we see does not necessarily tell the whole story. Noah has come to me for help. I am ready.

"l do have a lot of issues I want to explore and figure out. Where do we start?" This is straining my professionalism. In the ten years I have been practicing, this is a first for me. I am having trouble keeping a focus on anything except the physical presence before me. Noah is six feet tall to my five foot ten. He has medium length brown hair that keeps falling languidly onto his forehead, his hand reaching up to slowly brush it back each time. The summer heat has his white dress shirt clinging to his body, with just a bit of moisture to provide a ghost of his underlying skin and chest hair. With sleeves rolled up to his elbows, strongly muscled forearms keep calling my name. Naturally lithe and pleasantly muscular, each movement of his arms captivates my eyes and my senses with possibilities I know are not to be explored. He is, after all, a client in my care. Caring for this man in any way other than professional would go against everything I have become and stand for...and yet...

"Where is Noah at the age of seven? How does he feel? What does he want?" That struck a nerve. He is looking down at his clasped hands, trying to find comfort there. His body makes a brief but definite lurch forward as breath fills his lungs; and a sound of frustration and sadness escapes his throat.

"I am broken. I am alone. I am scared. I was not this way before...before. I know what happened. I know." I am as surprised at this openness as he seems to be. His head raises to show me a face full of tears and sorrow. He is devastated. So am I. Waves of empathy course through me as they always do in moments of client emotion and introspection such as this. I clear my throat.

"You are safe, Noah. This space is your safe place. I am honored to hear all that you want to say. What was it like...before?" He wipes at his eyes then sees and takes a tissue from the nearby table. Reaching for and sipping a bit of water, he exhales strongly before continuing.

"I was a happy kid. I had friends, mostly neighbors, and also from school. We talked a lot, sang songs together, played outside and had fun." He has suddenly stiffened, his posture turning cold. His lips are pursing. Anger spreads to his jaw...his cheeks...his eyes. "Then it all changed." He looks unreadable.

"How did it change?"

"They went ahead and I did not. They graduated. I stayed back. Even then I knew I was finished. I knew the minute I was told I would stay back that my world was over. Ended." I let this settle before speaking again.

"That's extremely insightful for the developing mind of a seven year old to conceptualize." His features are still unreadable, yet there is underlying determination there.

"I felt it. I just knew it was true. They took me off of my natural path. What else could I think? What?" My formal education provides me with many answers to his question; yet I will rely on personal experience to answer.

"I have known people who chose to let their frustrations and anger guide them forward. What guided you, Noah?" He does not hesitate. His answer will provide clarity and direction for this and upcoming sessions. I lean forward in my chair.

"There is a big gap in my otherwise excellent memory, Ben. I can not remember what I did in those next few school years that caused me constant rebuke. I would have to go to the chalkboard and write dozens of times over something like: I will not...." He pauses.

"It was punishment?" His eyes lock onto mine. with a mix of fear, anger and longing. He can only nod.

"There was also punishment homework. I had to write 500 times something like I had to write on the chalkboard."

"Can you remember anything about what might have earned the punishments?' He is shaking his head from side to side.

"No. I have a gut sense that my displacement from my natural life path made me angry with the world, and with myself, for not being enough to graduate." Not being enough. Those words hit a chord within me that has me trembling.

"You are enough. You have always been enough." He is looking at me with a mix of surprise and relief.

"I know that now. But part of me is still trapped in my past. I imprinted on failure and rejection. I can't seem to keep a job. I quit things that I was able to start and when I see the finish line I just stop. I have no one in my life I can count on to be there for me...to listen...to lo...to..." He is shaking his head with grief. I like to end each session on a positive note, but Noah is too distraught to keep going this morning. I stand and move to kneel next to him, taking the posture of an equal, a confidant, a friend. I reach out to take his hands in mine, and he lets me.

"Do you have time to have lunch with me, Noah...off the clock, of course?" My slight smile broadens as he nods in agreement. We both stand; and I hold back from an impulse to hug him. As we ascend the stairs into my kitchen, I formulate my plan.

The emotional weight of this first session has been a lot to deal with, both for Noah and for myself. I see a lot of myself through his eyes. I feel his pain. I know that good can come out of these sessions and I am determined to make that happen. As I start to prepare a lunch of sandwiches, salads and fruits, the idea hits.

"You are welcome to help, Noah." He needs something physical to do that will take his mind off of his thoughts for a while. He jumps at the chance to be helpful and takes over the salad and fruits preparations. Noah's mood lightens; and I keep glancing his way to observe.

"I'm glad I chose you to talk with, Ben. Want to know why?" I am waiting for him to tell me. "It's because you seem to see me for who I really am; and not impose any notions about me into our conversations." I am pleased, and relieved.

"Thank you, Noah. That is by design. The best I can offer you is to listen, learn and lead. A good leader thinks and acts only for the improvement of his charges, not for his own sake...although..." As I let my voice trail off, the way is cleared for Noah.

"Although you feel me on a deeper level than that of advisor and client?" His perception strikes me as accurate and precise.

"Were you as perceptive in those early years, as well?" He nods.

"Then we have our answer."

"To what question?"

"To how and why you knew that your true path had been corrupted when others of your age had no clue. That understanding helped you to fight for yourself instead of succumbing to the negative temptations of drugs, or alcohol, or sex addictions like others who had similar social dislocations thrust upon them. I think you can tell that I have also suffered and come through a past laden with self doubt and serious mental blockages that I have largely overcome.

"Yes. I can tell. I have made progress too; yet I still feel trapped by my mostly dysfunctional past."

"This is a challenge that you and I will be facing for the rest of our lives, Noah. We will continue to explore the world and our place in it, and find some answers and peace along the way. The journey will always be with us. That is not a reason to despair, but one to embrace and master." He nods in understanding; as we gather the dishes and food for lunch. It is a treat for me to have a client who sees me as clearly as I am seeing him. At the age of 38, our ten year difference does not seem to pose a barrier to that understanding.

"So I will always have to be vigilant?" I nod.

"It gets easier with practice. We can not erase or fill in our pasts with corrections; our pasts are set and immutable. What we can do is reimagine and reshape the perspectives we held then and have now learned to hold differently. What was broken then can be repaired enough, in our minds, to allow us to function as we were born to - before trauma set in."

"That sounds wonderful."

"It is." We settle into a comfortable silence and retire to the couch after eating.

"I've scheduled once a week sessions for the next two months, Ben. Thank you for making this first one memorable in a good way." As we walk toward the front door, he stops and turns to face me. "Can I hug you?" I open to him and our embrace is satisfying to me on many levels...too many to grasp in this moment. I will spend most of tonight thinking about how this day has begun to change both my client...and myself.

The Dream

My house has good summer breezes to cool it down for evenings of comfortable sleeping; yet falling asleep tonight takes a bit of effort. Thoughts of Noah keep me, if not fully awake, with him on my mind as I drift into sleep. My naked body feels comfortably cool tonight, though I long for one to warm my bed, my heart and my soul.

"Ben?"

"I'm here." I sit up and am surprised to see Noah standing naked in my bedroom doorway. He is everything a lover could hope for. He has an even temperament, caring ways, is intelligent and insightful. While self reliant, he is emotionally available and loving. His body is, to my eyes, perfection. Someone with all of his other qualities may possess a different body type; and I would still see that as perfection. He is slowly walking toward my bed.

"I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about the time we just shared, and how much I have already fallen for you." He has reached the edge of my bed, and is beginning to crawl toward me, lifting his body on to the sheets, and I have moved the comforter aside to make room for him.

"Hold me, Noah...please." He is perfectly healthy, yet his body is radiating warmth into me as if he had a fever. His skin collides with mine in the most sensual way possible. The density of his muscular torso and arms and legs entangle with mine; and I am drifting into a realm of contentment I have never known before. Now completely underneath and surrounded by my lover, he gently takes my mouth with his, claiming me as his and his alone. His hips are slowly grinding against mine, our cocks wet while frotting and impossibly hard. My hands are caressing his flanks and his back. His hands are enangled in my hair, gripping me there as we tongue fuck each other with an intensity that makes me glad he has me completely under his control, lest I fall to the floor in my sexual delirium. Every breath I take fills my lungs with his scent; and I pray to never take a breath alone again. I want him to melt completely into my body; and he begins to. Words alone cannot describe how I am opening to him, how every cell of me is taking him inside, giving him permission to fuse his cells with mine, his breath, his blood, his very life.

"I will take you now, Ben." It is a statement of pure intention and dominance and I am here for it.

"Yes. God, Yes." My legs lift for his access. I am slick with desire to have him enter my body. He does so with grace and speed; and I am suddenly speared by the throbbing snake of Noah as he wriggles into my depths and fills me to bursting. Massive orbs collide with my flesh and pulsate a river of warm sperm that spews into me through the snake that now has reached my stomach. He grows bigger within me, displacing all I had been and replacing me with himself and I am overjoyed. His fullness enters my throat and is in my mouth now, continuing to erupt his seed as it moves toward my lips, forcing them apart and entering the world. Volumes of his essence erupt onto my chin, my chest, my crotch. He has become me in total. I am now his, completely his.

RRRrrriiinnnnnggggg. RRRrrriiinnnnnggggg.

"Hello? It's Noah. Can I come over? I have something important to share."

I glance at my bedside clock. It is 5 in the morning. My body is sweaty, sticky with my release; and I need a shower. "Make it here at 7, Noah. I'll have breakfast ready."

To be continued...