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“I’m a sex therapist.”
Pork slammed on the brakes, staring straight ahead at the trail. He could feel his heart beating faster, sweat forming on his brow. They were in the middle of the long path headed to the animal sanctuary, so it wasn’t as if they were stopping traffic. But damn if he didn’t want to know more.
“You’re a what?” he asked.
“I-I’m a sex therapist. I help couples, and single people as well, become more comfortable with their bodies. You know, learn to explore and maybe try new things.”
“That’s what I thought you said,” he frowned.
“See, that’s the reaction I get from men. You somehow believe that if we were in a relationship, I would critique your style, your moves, your ability to help me reach orgasm. All of it.”
Pork shook his head, looking down at his lap. He knew his cock had jumped a mile the moment she said orgasm. That beautiful face, those sexy curves, all knowing what was in her head, made his body sizzle.
“That’s not what I thought at all,” he grinned. “You misunderstood my abrupt stop.”
“What did you think?” she asked, staring at him. Her big eyes were filled with genuine emotion and curiosity. Her silver hair flying in the breeze made him want to reach out and touch. “I really want to know.”
“Alright. But remember that you asked me what I thought. I thought maybe this old dog could be taught a few new tricks. Especially by a beautiful woman that I find incredibly attractive and sexy.”
“Oh.” The pink on her face almost illuminated in the late afternoon light. Pork chuckled, shaking his head. “Wh-what about your wife?”
“I don’t have a wife, Katherine.” He took a deep breath and then looked at her again. “I did. Once. Someone who I thought was a friend slept with her many times over. I should rephrase that. It wasn’t one-sided. She definitely slept with him as well. He was a teammate and former commander who turned out to be a very, very bad man.”
“I’m so sorry about that,” she said, touching his arm. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”
“You’re not going to tell me I should have been a better lover, that I should have been home more?” he smirked.
“No. No, not at all. Why would you think that? Listen, Pork… I’m sorry, I really hate that name. Forrest. Listen to me. I counsel men and women who are afraid to use their bodies as intended. They’ve been taught by some nun or priest or other clergy or their puritanical parents that they should make love in the missionary position for the rest of their lives and be happy with it. Women are taught to never ask for what they want, and men are taught to take control, even when they don’t want to. We’re led to believe that what we get is supposedly good enough.
“Sometimes their sex lives are good. They’re happy with that. Other times, they can’t fathom why they’re so unhappy. Many turn to extramarital affairs, some turn to pornography. Others just divorce without a sound reason. They just can’t explain their unhappiness.
“But the thing is, with all of them, if they’d just follow their instincts, done what their gut was telling them, chances are their partners would have welcomed it.”
“So, if I follow my gut right now, you’re not going to slap me?” he asked.
“Wh-what? I-I don’t know what you mean.”
Pork leaned over, gently cupping her jaw as he placed his warm lips against her own. He didn’t pry. He didn’t stick his tongue down her throat. It was one simple, warm, sexy kiss. Pulling back, he smiled at her.
“Well, no slap, so I guess I’m good,” he smirked.
“Yes. You’re very, very good,” she blushed. Pork laughed, shaking his head.
“Honey, your ex-husband must have been awful because I haven’t even begun to be good. When I do start, you’ll recognize what good really is, and you won’t ever have to ask me for a damn thing.”
He took off in the ATV again, parking outside the animal sanctuary. Katherine’s eyes lit up, staring at the menagerie before her.
“Donkeys! Oh, look, llamas!” she said excitedly.
“We have a bit of everything here right now,” said Pork. “Sniff? Lucy? This is Katherine MacAfee. She’s the lady who was sold the dog from the puppy mill. We were hoping to see the batch you got the other day from the family that had to sell their farm and move.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lucy, reaching for her hand. “I’m Lucy Mullins. This is my husband, Alex. The dogs are really all mixed breeds, big breeds, but they’re trained, house-broken, wonderfully obedient.”
They walked toward a large enclosure where the dogs were running around free. There were covered homes for each dog, water bowls, food, shaded areas, and a small man-made pond for them to swim in. This is how dogs should be treated.
“In the winter, they can go into a heated shelter in the barn. When it’s really hot, we can make it air-conditioned. They never stay in the elements if they’re bad,” said Sniff. “Trig. Come, boy.”
A huge dog bounced toward them, his tongue hanging out, making him look as if he were smiling and happy. He stopped beside Sniff, obediently laying his head against his thigh.
