Sabrina's Surrender (A New Journey) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 New Beginnings

  Chapter 2 Reflections

  Chapter 3 Back In School

  Chapter 4 The Day Before Our Meeting

  Chapter 5 The Appointment With My Professor

  Sabrina's Surrender

  by Laura Westor

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Laura Westor

  Copyright © 2012

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  About the Author

  Laura Westor enjoys writing about relationships and exploring the feminine and masculine psychology involved in intimacy.

  Chapter 1 New Beginnings

  Since my divorce, I've felt lost. The marriage lasted five years and the last three years were very lifeless for me. My ex-husband, Joey, became so predictable to me. I knew what he'd say as we watched various tv shows, how he'd react to the comments of the judges on American Idol, what he'd order when we went out to the Chestnut Diner for a weekend meal and exactly the way he'd cut off the phone calls with his mom abruptly. I hated to see him as mechanical, but he appeared that way to me. I also know that I had my own boring routines, mannerisms and habitual forms of behavior. But, that was only in rare moments of self-honesty. Generally, I blamed him for why our lives were dull and I thought Joey was very inflexible. Why did he get so tired after work all the time? Couldn't we at least get to a Starbucks or cafe during the week?

  We were only in our twenties, but I was worried that we'd be buried alive by our repeated patterns. Sure, we jogged and we didn't use walkers, but I felt that we were similar to my Aunt Ray and Uncle Tom who were in their 80s. How could our lives have become so encrusted? I was able to mentally anticipate how Joey would answer most things I asked him. I grew tired of our love making during last three years because each time was so similar. We would try to spice things up at times. It didn't seem to help, because despite all the variations, my heart was not in it. I was adding lingerie, changing fragrances and using new toys but things were still flat. The passion wasn't there for me and using candles, perfumes and wine wasn't the answer. Passion can't be stimulated by something external but has to flow from the magical connection between two people.

  The spark wasn't really very strong between us even at the beginning when I was twenty and Joey was twenty four. I was very security focused and Joey helped me to feel safe. He had his own business where he would repair computers and had no financial stress. People freak out when there are problems with the computer due to viruses or adware. Joey could fix the problems that appeared due to teenagers picking up malware when surfing game sites or someone in the family watching porn. He helped me financially with my tuition for my last two years of college. My parents felt that my brother and I should put ourselves through college on our own and I wouldn't have finished my education otherwise. This really is awful, to want security at such a young age. I know it wasn't fair to him, since he was a nice guy. I knew financial stability was not a good reason to stay married, but I was scared.

  I felt guilty because I had some fantasies about my creative writing professor during the first year Joey paid for my schooling. I had an appointment with my teacher to review my short story and I kept imaging that his thumb was caressing my clit. My professor, Dr. Raskin, was in his forties and was not being flirtatious. But, the mastery of his words and his gentle guidance created an inner craving inside me. This surprised me because guys in their forties usually seemed too old for me. Nothing romantic happened between us, but I felt a joy inside that my life could have vibrancy once again.

  I wasn't frozen, but just in a rut. The command of language, his ability to refine and improve my writing and the intelligence was such a turn on. I didn't feel around Joey that I could rely on him for this type of intellectual and creative connection. My sexuality then went underground and was repressed again, but I knew that the seed was planted there and could be reactivated . This meeting with Dr. Raskin happened after things were deteriorating with Joey. But, I buried that strong arousal and continued in my lifeless marriage a bit longer. At the time, I knew that Dr. Raskin's touch would send me soaring and beyond my ordinary boundaries.

  Now, the divorce was finalized and I kept wondering why my life was in this predicament. What happened to my sexuality? I was always flirtatious when I was younger. But, during the last few years of my marriage, I seemed to only think about balancing the checkbook, planning my teaching lessons and food shopping. My whole life just seemed to be preparing for something else. But what was the point of always preparing? It was only getting ready for something else I didn't really want to do. Would I always be trying to "get ready" and never actually live? Even during the weekends I was not "living". I was thinking about the lunch to pack on Monday, calls I had to return and supplies needed to supplement the classroom due to budget cuts. Each day had so many requirements just to live. I was choking with all that needed to be done from pumping gas to paying the electric bill to picking up my dry cleaning. I felt that I was missing out on the deep bliss I knew I could feel with a man.

  I enjoy teaching third grade, but feared I would always stay single and end up like Mrs. Stone. Mrs. Stone taught fifth grade and had also divorced in her twenties. She was now fifty two and she has not found another significant relationship. On the weekends she'd meet her best friend for dinner at the Olive Garden or a different Italian restaurant on Friday nights. On Saturday nights Mrs. Stone would go to the movies, play or concert with a second friend that was widowed. It wasn't a completely empty life, but there was something dead about it to me. Was that going to be my future? Would I just be pretending to enjoy myself while yearning for a real man?

  During the lunch break Wednesday at the school where I teach, I had a recollection that I had forgotten about for years. In the summer before 9th grade, I was changing to a new school. I begged my mom to let me wear one of the dresses we bought in early August in preparation for the new semester because we were going to a party for my cousin's birthday. I felt great in this dress and my confidence was so high. My cousin's neighbor, Steven, who was around 18 or 19 years old checked me out and I liked knowing that I had some power over a guy. I was shy, but I kept physically placing my body near his so that he'd see my budding breasts and smell my shampoo.

  I asked Steven to explain a news story that was on my phone which was over my head. I knew my strength was in having a man feel his own strength and my dependency on him. And I was really soft and helpless inside, even though I also manipulated things. I liked my femininity and the way that he was in a teacher mode. We only saw each other that one time, but I fantasized that night mentally about him in my bed. I was too afraid to touch my own body. I didn't want my mom to abruptly come into my room and catch me. She had the habit of just bursting into my room to tell me something. But it was still erotic to me to go into the fantasy mentally, though my fingers were too shy to move.

  I pictured myself asking Steven to explain how to change a flat tire. I knew that he had just done that on his own car. He told me that you have to first lift the car up with a jack and then loosen the lug nuts with a wrench. I asked him if I would have the strength to do that. He then squeeze my bicep muscles to test them. As he did that, I felt a little pulse in my clitoris. It was so warm and I was craving for his touch. I imagined him telling me that my arms could be too weak to turn the wrench. Then I felt his hands graze across my sweate
r and touch my small breasts. I felt myself lean towards him as I yearned for his hands to cup my breasts. He stroked my right cheek with his index finger and gently kissed my lips as he firmly touched my breasts through my dress. He was experienced with cars and I knew he'd understand my body in the same way. I also knew that boys my own age would just fumble around with the female body and be too childish. "Did you take my black shirt again?" My mom had burst into my room and my fantasy ended abruptly. I was startled by her and felt violated by the intrusion. Why did she make my dream go away?

  I never did see Steven again as his family moved out of state. But, I had variations of this fantasy over the years. The man was always instructing me about something and older. He'd have knowledge and I'd look up to him. I would be very shy, but also naughty by trying to distract him with a view of part of my breast or the outline of my butt in a short and tight skirt. I didn't know if I was innocent or a slut and I had no one to ask that question to.

  I wasn't sure why this came back into my consciousness now. Was it a reaction to thinking about Mrs. Stone's fate? Could I feel again? Would I be able to keep the sizzle with a man? Maybe this was a sign that I was thawing out and I wouldn't be condemned to the life that I saw ahead of me.

  Chapter 2 Reflections

  Why do I feel like such a failure about my divorce? We just weren't compatible. Did I sell my soul to have a reliable man who could earn a living? None of the surrender fantasies I had were ever played out in our intimate couplings. Joey was not someone that I could elevate and be overwhelmed by sexually. He was really my security blanket. There wasn't a strong masculinity about him and he was good at his computer business, but didn't have the depth I was seeking.

  Maybe it is really guilt and not failure. I didn't suggest marriage counseling when things were falling apart. I just allowed us to continue to keep drifting. Joey looked up to me for my intellectual abilities. Maybe the lack of reciprocal respect was what was missing. With Professor Raskin, I knew I could really give myself fully. Is that the classical father figure syndrome? Joey was good with computers, but I just didn't feel I could ever melt into him.

  But, I'd be nervous to be with a man like Professor Raskin. Even if he was single. I crave to be vulnerable with a man, but fear it too. He would feel my pulse. He would know that he has control despite my facade of inner strength at managing each day. I don't want a man to feel my trembling, my cravings and my sense of powerlessness. But without that, could I really live? Will I always keep living the lie and appear to be the person who is confident about herself? I was sick of fooling people with this. I wanted a man to take me and take me hard.

  I went jogging to clear my head and was surprised to see that so many of the leaves were orange and brown. Wow, I really had gotten lost this autumn and lost my sense of time. It was November and it seems I missed the last few months of seasonal changes. I had mechanically bought the Halloween candy, but was living with a membrane. I was thinking about whether I should return to college in January part-time. Though my undergraduate degree was completed and my teaching job fairly secure, I was thinking of getting my master's degree in literature. This would enable me to teach at a community college or online. I could start with one class in the winter semester and then expand. I felt a wave of hope, but also some concerns because the other students would be younger than me a bit. But, there was a sense of something new emerging and I liked that.

  I was jogging in a country road in the town of Setauket on Long Island in Suffolk County. I lived in Port Washington which was nearby. It's very close to the state university where excellent classes are offered. It was good feeling the energy of students also running in the neighborhood. The routine of work and my divorce reflections has pulled me down lately. I only ran for thirty minutes and then stopped to stretch. I did a few yoga sun salutations which gave me a sense of gratitude. It is an awesome sequence as the spine gets to complete forward, backward and side stretches. I felt that my attitude shifted when I jogged and stretched. Maybe this year will let me take a new leap. Taking a course could also be a way to get out of my social isolation. But, I never did well with female friends. There was always a lot of jealousy and tension.

  Chapter 3 Back In School

  I enrolled at the local college for an English class that would start in the winter semester. There was an adjunct professor named Dr. Sherin who was teaching Popular Literature which included both 19th and 20th century works. Some of the authors in the curriculum were D.H. Lawrence , Scott Fitzgerald, Jane Austen and Emily Bronte. It was a small class and the professor was very cute. He was in his forties and had beautiful hair. I liked the way he listened to students. The level of attention was strong and he had a way of making each person feel special. We were assigned to do a mid-term paper and I decided to make an appointment with him to review my idea. I enjoyed Scott Fitzgerald and wanted to write about the Great Gatsby .

  I felt a bit intimidated by him but also excited about our meeting. Dr. Sherin was very good looking but did not seem to have the ego that often went along with that. He was a bit of a hippy, with hair longer than other professors and a disheveled look that was hot. I don't like arrogance in a man, but am intrigued when someone is reflective, caring and of course hot. Still, I have always been cursed by my shyness. I think I like professors because many of them can understand how boring life is that consists of going to the mall, being on social media all day, reading popular magazines and having banal talks. I love the depth that is possible with intellectual conversations. They like the academic world and the protection it provides. This was sorely lacking in my marriage with Joey and of course with the 3rd graders at my job.

  I was trying to figure out what to wear to the appointment with Dr. Sherin. I had an old bra that would show my nipples through my blue thin blouse. Would that be too much? I didn't want him to see me as shallow, but I wanted to be able to read his response to me. I decided on a bra that was less revealing and would wear a pink sweater with a short black skirt, very sheer stockings and black shoes with two inch thin heels. I could never wear that outfit at my job and I hadn't dressed up in months.

  Was he married , divorced or single? He did not disclose anything about his personal life in the lectures. He smiled when I entered his office and I sat across from him at his messy desk. There were no family pictures on his desk, but he had some photographs of Cape Cod on his wall.

  I told him I brought my rough draft of the Great Gatsby and was hoping he would review it. He seemed to not want to jump right away into reading it and asked me if I was enjoying the class. I said, "Yes, it is opening up my mind to new ways of interpreting books I've loved for years." Dr. Sherin seemed pleased by that and asked me if I was also working. He could tell I was a bit older than the other students. I told him that I liked teaching young children, but missed reflective talks about life as well as the university atmosphere.

  I had my feet crossed at the ankles and uncrossed them. Why was I so nervous around him? He glanced down and gave me a look of approval. Why I am so happy when I get a look of approval from an older man? Did he see how much this fulfilled me? He asked me if I also had children I was raising. Was he fishing to see about my marital situation? I told him that I was divorced and with no children. Again, he half-smiled and I felt his satisfaction. He still did not disclose anything about himself, but had no wedding ring on and when I glanced around the office could find no wall pictures or photos aside from the Cape Cod paintings.

  His attention was fully on me and I liked that. I told him that I recently saw the Woody Allen, "Midnight in Paris" and was fascinated by the Fitzgeralds. "But I would never try to jump into the Seine river, " I blurted out. Then I turned red. Dr. Sherin said, "I can see you are not an impulsive person, Sabrina, but you do find Zelda fascinating, I believe." I got more nervous, but tried to act in control. I loved the way he said my name. I pictured him whispering, "Sabrina, Sabrina, Sabrina," and slowly removing my bra. A text beep interrupted his penetratin
g glance into me and he looked down at his phone. I tried to remember to slow down my breathing and appear calm.

  He frowned and said, "Damn, my mom's car stalled and I need to help her out. Can we reschedule our appointment for Friday? My last class ends at 3:30." I said that I could be there by 4 and slowly stood up. There was an electricity I felt for the first time in months. He put his palm on my shoulder and I felt my body completely relax under his touch. His masculinity was so strong because he wasn't just good with his hands, but his mind was introspective and deep. None of the men I had known before had this synthesis. I knew he was looking at me as I left his office and felt wrapped up in warmth.

  I floated to my car and felt a deep peace inside. It was a harmonious feeling that had been missing in my life. I knew that if he controlled me I'd finally be free paradoxically.

  Chapter 4 The Day Before Our Meeting

  The next day at work I felt lighter, but also dreamier. It was Thursday and my appointment with Dr. Sherin was getting closer. I was truly shy, but somehow had an aggressive fantasy that ran through my mind about our upcoming meeting. First of all, I had decided I was going to wear the old bra that showed my nipples through my blouse. I wanted to please him and not disappoint him. Was this being passive-aggressive? I would look innocent at the same time. But, it really wasn't just an act. I was really scared. Was I shy or a whore? Could I be both? I felt very timid, but also could see walking over and unbuttoning his shirt when he was reading my paper.

  "Sabrina, don't overthink this," I told myself.

  It was supposed to be warm on Friday so I thought I'd wear shorts that hugged my butt very tightly. I had a necklace that would hang right at the top of my cleavage and move as I naturally adjusted my body in conversation. Each time I would lean forward he would follow it and be drawn to my breasts. I knew I couldn't really orchestrate how things would go. Heck, I didn't even know if anything would happen. Maybe he would just see me as too old and dead inside.