And What Has It Gotten Me

Chapter 7

It's warm, not at all what she expected. The walls are painted with warm earth tones, the flooring made of some sort of composite material, probably a recycled cork-plastic mix. There's nothing remotely clinical about this place, if not for the receptionist this place could pass for a bar lounge. Olivia sits in the waiting of the surrogate clinic fighting the urge to run for the nearest exit. What is she thinking? This is not her. Despite all her defiant talk of late, the prim and proper Olivia of old is battling to usurp the new and improved version. The waiting room is empty except for her and one other woman. They exchange polite glances while they wait. The other woman is older, probably in her fifties. She's voluptuous, maybe a tad heavyset, not unattractive, dressed in tailored clothing accented with modest yet expensive jewelry. Olivia can tell the woman is accomplished. The older woman across from her nervously flips through the pages of a year-old Bon Appetite' magazine. The woman tosses the magazine on the empty chair next to her before heading over to the table next to Olivia to sift through the clinic's other dated publications. The woman looks at Olivia, her brow furrows in curiosity. After a few minutes the woman's curiosity gets the better of her, she has to know why Olivia is seeing sex surrogate.

"Excuse me honey, I don't mean to be forward, I get why I'm here. I'm 55, a virgin, and if I don't do this, I've made up my mind to head over to the convent on Vignes. But you…I don't get it. Why are you here? You are absolutely gorgeous. I mean if you get rid of that tight ass bun you're wearing and let your hair down you could be a model."

"Pardon me," Olivia replies bluntly.

"Look I'm no rubbernecking head turning beauty, I have no problem admitting it. I accept the cards I've been dealt. No one really wants to test drive an overweight, over 40, mid-level administrator but you exude grace, confidence and sex appeal. Why on earth do you need a surrogate? Are you transitioning, you know going from male to female. Not sure of how the mechanics work on the other side?" The woman's voice and demeanor are sincere, brimming with empathy. She's honestly mystified by Olivia's presence.

Olivia on the other hand, taken aback looks at the woman suspiciously. Isn't obvious why I'm here? I'm here for the same reason you're here she thinks to herself? Why is she asking me this question? Isn't therapy a private matter? Does she really expect me to discuss my issues with a stranger in a public waiting room?

"Ms. Dandridge," the receptionist calls. Olivia opens her mouth but only manages a smile before the woman disappears behind the thick paneled doors.

Maybe Abby is right. Maybe I haven't thought this through. Olivia huffs softly. I can ring her neck. She's the one who suggested this option now she's got me questioning my decision. Last night we were on the same page, this morning she's lobbing uncertainty balls at my head.

"Liv you sure you want to go through with this?" Having had more time to think about her proposal Abby wants to make sure Olivia is completely onboard with the surrogate idea.

"Abby, I think this is the safest most practical way. No entanglement, no pressure, pure and simple clinical detachment."

"Liv, the whole point is not detachment, it's about being open to emotional and physical intimacy. Sexual intercourse is a component, the end result of discovering who you are and how to be open with another person."

"Understood, I'm just nervous, I don't know what I'm saying."

Checking her watch, she notes the time and pulls out her phone. Abby's late and her appointment is in fifteen minutes.

Suddenly environmental conditions in the waiting room become stifling. Olivia feels the walls closing in on her. She needs fresh air quick, fast and in a hurry.

"Uhm…I'm going to step outside for moment. I'll be right outside the door, she tells the receptionist."

Where is she? I thought I could do this on my own, now I'm not sure, I need moral support. She sends Abby a text.

OP: Abby, where are you? My appointment is in a few minutes!

AW: Calm down, parking the car. Be there in 3.

Minutes later and the receptionist steps out into the corridor. "Olivia, the doctor is wrapping up, you should probably come in now."

"Uh, sure thing, I'll be right in, I just need to make another quick call."

Olivia taps redial on her phone. "Abby you said three minutes, that was ten minutes ago. They've already called my name once. I'm not going in there by myself."

"Geez woman, I'm getting off the elevator, go back in, I'm right behind you."

Olivia breathes a sigh of relief, then opens the clinic door. Not looking up as she puts her cell phone back in her purse, she bumps into someone exiting. A pair of sunglasses hit the floor shattering the lenses, followed by a large thick white envelope. I cannot believe I've done this again.

"Pardon me, I'm so, so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. She drops to her knees to pick up the broken sunglasses and envelope. She places the lens pieces atop the envelope and hands them to the unfortunate stranger, again not looking up.

"Please allow me to pay you to replace the glasses. Fumbling for her wallet she hands over $100. "Is this enough", she asks finally looking up.

Vibrant blue eyes and warm smile greet her. "Why do you insist on knocking my belongings and papers from my hands whenever we meet?"

Olivia is dumbstruck. It's him. Wait, is he a surrogate or a client?

Taking a moment to recover, she quips, "Well, I could ask why you insist on plowing through doors you apparently know I'm on the other side of?"

"Hmm, that implies I'm familiar with your comings and goings."

"Or the universe may be trying to tell us something?" Olivia suggests smiling and coyly tilting her head. What's happening? This is completely out of character for me. Am I actually flirting?

"Okay, I'm here, let's do this", Abby huffs winded from her hurried walk from the parking garage.

Both Fitz and Olivia's smiles fade. Their moment interrupted.

The door opens hitting Fitz in the back. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did I injure you?

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I can take a look at your back, you know make sure the knob didn't cut or bruise you skin." The receptionist grins unashamedly. From the first day he entered the clinic she's wanted to show and do things to him no surrogate dare attempt. If it weren't for the clinic policy prohibiting dating clients, she'd be all over Mr. Jeremy West.

Looking past Fitz, the receptionist informs Olivia, "It's time."

"Thank you we're coming."

"Here, the glasses are inexpensive and insured." He hands Olivia back the cash.

"No, I insist, for the inconvenience." She tries to force the money into his hand.

Their eager hands partially lock, the money prevents a full grasp but the skin that does touch is enough to send desire's charge between them. Looking into each other's eyes, no words are necessary, each knows a real connection has been made. Both are thinking, no yearning for the same thing, a long passionate kiss with delving tongues and groping hands. Eyes and hands willingly linger until Abby tugs at Olivia's arm.

"Keep it, next time we bump into one another I'll expect coffee or a meal as compensation." His deep baritone voice sends a shiver down Olivia's spine.

'Sorry kids, playdate is over, she has an appointment." Abby pulls Olivia away before she has a chance to respond to Fitz.

"Abby that was rude."

"Look you made this appointment, we're here for you not me. You can call Mr. Orgasa-maker later. Honestly, if you have access to someone like him why are we here? Wait, why is he here? OMG do you think he's a surrogate? How do you know him? Why have you kept him a secret from me?

"Abby, I don't even know the man's name. We've literally just bumped into each other twice. Once at a coffee shop and now here."

"Could have fooled me, that man wants you Liv and you obviously want him."

"What? Abby he's a stranger. I know absolutely nothing about him."

"Liv, lust does not require a resumé."

"Abigail I am not lusting after a complete stranger."

"Seems I've struck a nerve. You only call me Abigail when our conversations move onto personal topics, you're not ready to address."

Olivia leans back in her chair staring straight ahead. Abby is right, she's not ready to discuss her lust for her mystery man. This last encounter has her rattled. She can't stop thinking about him. Her head is filled with images of him doing all the naughty things she's seen in porn videos. His luring lips covering her mouth, his tongue gently probing her mouth after they've consumed a bottle of expensive wine. His taste, his sweet heady taste, the feel of his tastebuds brushing against her own. His large hand squeezing her breast, his thumb stimulating her nipple to pebble hardness. Olivia lost her fantasy, doesn't her the receptionist call her name.

"Liv, Liv, are you okay. They're ready for you." Abby asks observing her nervous friend.

Flush, breathing deeply, Olivia grabs Abby's hand. "Everything has been theoretical up to this point. Now that I'm here reality is hitting me square in the face. Come in with me."

"Olivia," the receptionist calls again.


"Olivia", the woman extends her hand. I'm Dr. Ward. And you are?" Switching to shake Abby's hand.

"Abby."

"Are you Olivia's partner?"

"A friend."

"I see normally I meet one on one with the patient. Are you here as a friend or partner friend?"

Olivia quickly replies friend at the same time Abby says partner.

"Which is it?"

"Friend wanting more", Abby offers with Olivia looking on uneasily.

"I see. Well Olivia it's up to you whether Abby stays. Our approach to treatment is quite different for couples."

"We're not a couple, Abby is a good friend who knows I'm extremely nervous and is here to support me."

"I see. I suspected as much. Olivia you have no reason to trust me having just met me, but I'm here to help you, to bring you to place where you're comfortable with your sexuality, sex and intimacy. However, in order to help you I need you to be completely honest and forthcoming. If Abby being here hinders your ability to do so in any way, I recommend she wait in the reception area. Therapy is an extremely personal and emotional experience. It requires openness. If there are issues, you're not ready to share with your friend I think..."

"Liv, I'm going to step away. I'll be right outside if you need me. This is something you need to decide for yourself. You know you can count on me over a cliff."

Olivia wipes a tear from her eye. "Okay", she whispers. The therapy hasn't even started and she feels an emotional wreck.

The doctor hands Olivia a box of tissue.

"Olivia this session is designed to discover the type of therapy you really need. Believe it or not every potential client needs sex therapy or a surrogate."

"Really?"

"Yes, underlying issues may point to a different problem. Sexual dysfunction may be a symptom of a deeper psychological trauma."

"I'll be conducting your evaluation this morning."

"Evaluation? I already know why I am the way I am. I'm not interested in undergoing tests to come to the same conclusion."

"Think of today as an intake session. We begin by discussing your goal, hopes, and what you think is the problem. Afterwards I'll ask you a series of questions. The questions are designed to discover or unearth so to speak the real reason you decided to pursue this form of therapy and whether this is the type of therapy you truly need."

"Some questions are simple, others mind expanding. From your responses we will develop your personal change map or actual treatment goals. We're here to guide you Olivia, provide you with insight into what really is hindering you and equip you with the appropriate problem-solving skills."

"If you're committed and honest, positive change will occur, meaning you will have confidence in your relationships and the freedom to experience, express and share intimacy with another person. Do you want to proceed? After this session we expect you to take a few days to mull over what transpires here today. No pressure, you are always in complete control of your therapy."

Olivia relaxes a little. Her shoulders lower, her breathing is less shallow but her hands remain locked resting on her lap.

"Okay, I'm here, you're here, the session is paid for, might else well continue."

The doctor was hoping for a more enthusiastic response but hesitation is normal for first timers contemplating any type of therapy but sex therapy especially.

"Olivia, have ever seen a counselor or sought therapy before?"

"No."

"Why have you chosen to seek therapy at this point in your life?"

"I can't pull myself out of this black hole I find myself in."

"Can you describe this black hole?"

"I feel like I'm in a place where no light can reach me, a bottomless pit with no escape. I'm over thirty, a virgin and feel all the experiences I should have had by now are missing in my life because I'm trapped in this dark place."

"Do you know what's keeping you in this dark place?"

"My issues all revolve around sex or the lack thereof. I have intimacy issues, or at least I think I do. I feel if I don't have sex soon, I never will or will become an octogenarian nursing home whore."

"Can you explain what you mean by issues?"

"I've never been intimate with another person. My only experience in closeness was a mediocre kiss."

"Why do you feel it was mediocre?"

"Because I felt nothing and from what I've observed from friends and strangers alike my experience was a cartoonish version at best."

"Did something more physical occur before or after this kiss?"

"No."

"Do you think your intimacy problem stems from this kiss?"

"No."

"Olivia, feelings are neither right or wrong, nor are they good or bad, every problem has a way of making us feel one way or another. How does this problem with intimacy typically make you feel? Do you feel sad, mad, hopeless, stuck or what?"

"I'm tired, frustrated and bitter and feel like I've been duped."

"What do feel is the cause of your intimacy problem?"

"God."

Dr. Ward stops writing. "I see, care to elaborate."

Olivia goes on the explain her upbringing, church expectations, how she believes she followed all the rules and never reaped the promises. She also shares how she feels god is capricious and vindictive.

"Have you ever had a period in your life outside your childhood, where these strong feelings did not exist?"

"Yes, when I was completely consumed with serving in the church and ignored my own wants and desires."

"Was there any activity, or coping tool you employed in the past to dispel these feelings?"

"The feelings developed over time and I ignored them mostly, believing they would pass. Then I realized god had marked me a chosen vessel of suffering and that as long as I stayed in the church, under his rules, hurt and pain would be a regular part of my life. All I had ever done was serve, emulate and practice the tenets of the church, yet the very things the church promises and extols were denied to me. Even sitting here now, thinking about the years I wasted serving a god who never cared about me, I feel enraged."

Tears stream down Olivia's cheeks. Her pain and disappoint are both visceral and palpable. Dr. Ward can feel Olivia's hurt. Faith in whatever form, be it in a higher being or oneself, it is the one constant which sustains a person. A loss of faith is soul crushing. It undermines a person's relationship with others and self. Faith is a bulwark, an absolute, and without it everything in life comes into question.

Dr. Ward hands over the tissue box. Olivia snatches a few to dry her eyes and cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually a crier."

"Crying is good for the psyche Olivia. It's the mind's natural emotional release mechanism which helps us cope with grief, alleviate stress and deal with an array of other issues. Therapy often involves crying on a regular basis. We have tear ducts for a reason. Do you believe crying is a sign of weakness or instability?"

"No, not necessarily. My mother believes crying shows a lack of faith. True faith means you have implicit trust in god, you have no doubt every problem has a solution and will resolve itself according to god's plan; even if you don't understand the plan. You trust in the higher purpose and are content to find out why you endured suffering on the other side."

"I take it you don't agree with your mother's perception of god."

"No, I don't, at least not anymore. A god cannot claim omnipotence, speak of his incomprehensible love, and when the going gets tough get a pass for being an ineffectual powerless bystander. If I hear, his ways are not our ways and his thoughts are higher than our thoughts, one more time I'll scream. At this point in my life god is in the same category as Santa Claus."

"Olivia, if I could give you a magic wand, what positive changes would you make in your life? What would make you happy?"

Olivia remains quiet for a full three minutes. I want to give a thoughtful response, but these questions have me thinking about more than I anticipated. Will having sex make me happy? Is my real issue my anger and loss of faith?

"I guess I would erase my prior notion of who god is and adopt a more collective universal spirit belief, you know like Hinduism or Buddhism. I'd not base potential romantic relationships on a Christian checklist no one adheres to or really cares about. I'd be more free spirited, less ridged. I'd be more open to new experiences, but not reckless. I'd allow myself to enjoy the secular world without judgment or guilt."

"And where does sex play a role?"

"I lump sex in with romantic relationships and enjoying the secular world without judgment or guilt."

"I notice you didn't mention dispelling your anger and having a better relationship with your mother. Do you feel your mother has disappointed you more than god? Is you father alive? How is your relationship with him?"

Olivia looks away, the doctor is verbalizing her thoughts. Tears once again gather and stream. She realizes she's lost faith in god and her parents. Shaken to her core, she wipes her eyes and stands abruptly. Dr. Ward stands too.

"Olivia, I understand losing your foundation makes you feel vulnerable and lost. Our faith and family are important elements in defining who we are. Finding out these elements are not or never were what we believed them to be is shattering. However, if you take a step back, take a moment to really exam these new truths, you can not only learn who you really are as a person but grow, reconcile and if you want reintegrate a more realistic view of your relationship to faith and your parents into your life."

Olivia stays statue still.

"You do have issues with intimacy Olivia but before you can be open to a romantic relationship or relational intimacy you need to deal openly and honestly with your core being. Who is Olivia now? Who does Olivia want to be? What does Olivia want? What roles do faith and parental influence play? After you work on answering these questions, we can re-evaluate whether sex therapy is something you need."

Olivia's chest heaves, her lips roll inward and her free hand taps her the side of her leg. "Okay", she whispers and sits down. For the next week, Olivia vents like Mt. Vesuvius, does her emotional homework, reveals her Achilles heel and works on moving past blaming god and her parents. It feels good to talk about things she's held in for years with an actual person instead of on her knees during one-sided prayer. She feels mentally lighter, happier and more in tune with herself. Two hours a day in therapy has been well worth the cost. Abby and her associates at work have noticed the difference too.


Chairs screech across the tile floor, orders for lattes, double shot expressos, flavor blends of all types and the names of caffeine addicted patrons resound within the confines of the coffee house as people cram in for their morning jumpstart dispensed in a white insulated paper cup. Instead of seeking the quiet solemnity found in a church sanctuary, Father Fitzgerald Grant chooses the boisterous setting at More Than Coffee as his place to contemplate his future and reflect on this life to date. Reflecting with the apostles and Mary looking down him and in the shadow of Christ's passion he'll never gain true perspective within the environment he now questions. Honest introspection has to be performed in surroundings outside the church walls.

He's decides to use his vacation to tackle or rather dissect his motivation in choosing the ordained life, a career in family counseling, and foregoing a family. Today he's thinking on why he became a priest. Was he truly called to the priesthood or did he do choose this life to emulate the men he respected and appreciated the most? Bishop Primrose encouraged him to use his time off to search his heart and remember the reasons he became priest.

The bishop reached for doorknob to leave, but turned abruptly and asked, "My son why did you become a priest?"

At first Fitz hesitates to answer, the question came out of the blue and he wonders if the question part of an informal evaluation. "My mom was a devout catholic.She wasn't a fanatic by any means but she practiced what the church preached. My father was the polar opposite. He'd attend church on important holidays to avoid looking like a complete heathen and during election season to drum up votes.

"For my thirteenth birthday he promised to take me to dinner, just us two. My mom dropped me off at his office around seven on my birthday. Everyone had gone home; the office was empty or so we thought. Mom was about to knock on his door when we heard a woman scream. I burst into his office only to catch him with his pants down thrusting into his secretary who was bent over his desk. She kept screaming so I began yelling at him to stop hurting her. Stunned and hurt my mother initially didn't react. When she finally did, she screamed my father's name covered my eyes and pulled me out the room. Later that night he came to my room and tried to explain how men have urges requiring satisfaction outside marriage. I was confused, until he told he was going buy my other something expensive to smooth things over. Then I knew for sure what he was doing was wrong."

"My mother knew all about my father's infidelity, yet she stayed because she made sacred vows."

"That day I decided I did not want to be anything like my father and told him as much. From that point on he distanced himself from me and the only positive male role models in my life were priests."

No sooner does he finish his thought a familiar breath of fresh air enters the coffee house. He can't believe his luck. He actually pinches himself to make sure he's not dreaming. Pain registers, skin reddens, a slight throb develops; yep he's definitely not dreaming. She's here and he's here, they're in the same place at the same time sharing the same air. He scooches further over in the booth, not wanting her to see him just yet. In their last two encounters her hair was in a tight bun. Today it's down, shoulder length softly framing her captivating features. God she's beautiful.

He watches her place her coffee order. Even the way she pulls cash from her wallet to pay the barista is enchanting to him. She extends hand palm up for her change, he images her hand is warm and soft as a baby skin. She drops the bills and change into the tip jar- "she's always generous" he whispers. Staring at her, his mind plays out a scenario where they're both naked, making love with ocean waves crashing in the distance. He wants her in a way he's never wanted anything. Before her service and prayer were enough to fulfill his needs. Not any longer, he needs and wants more. Maybe she's a test? The question is whether she's a test from God or the devil.

The time he spent with his surrogate was a clinical experience. He was doing research and treated it as such. Gaining perspective to better understand the couples he counsels is how he justified breaking his celibacy vow. But did he really break it? He didn't have sex to satisfy lustful feelings, he had sex to become a better counselor, someone who could truly relate experientially. Celibacy denied him the physical pleasure associated with sexual desire, so to better understand the compulsion to seek extramarital sex he needed to experience the same arousal and technics practiced by the couples he serves. Surrogacy opened his mind to the dangers and pitfalls of pious sex. Human beings need variety to thrive and grow. That need does not stop at the bedroom door, if anything it's important to a healthy relationship to explore each partner's desires, to share intimate wants with the person you've chosen to love and spend your life with free from judgement.

For the first time since taking his final vows, Fitz questions his life path. Looking at her, her innate attraction, sparkling eyes, her caressible russet brown skin, her pouty full lips and her silken hair speak to him in a way scripture never has. Her presence brings a tranquility he had no idea he was missing. He needs more of her plain and simple. She engenders thoughts of another life, a life where he's the mayor of a small town and she's an entrepreneur, a maker of jams and jellies and they have four precocious kids. Silly as it sounds, it is what he sees when he sees her, a normal life.

"Olivia," the barista calls out. Olivia, what a beautiful name. It fits her. Olivia, Livvie...Liv.

Olivia pulls her purse up on her should and picks up two large cups. She scans the cafe for an empty table.

No, it's no possible. The only open table is next him. He turns away pretending to search for something in his messenger bag hoping to be inconspicuous. Olivia focused on finding a table, doesn't notice him except for him being a body occupying the next booth.

Shortly after Olivia sits, she stands to wave over the recipient of the second cup of coffee.

"Hey Liv, sorry I'm late. I ran into an old friend last night and spent the entire night catching up."

"This wasn't an old friend with benefits?"

"Olivia Pope, I think you parents are right, I'm definitely having a corrupting effect on you."

Fitz slides over a little closer. He has her name, Olivia Pope. Temptation thy name is Pope. Why is her last name Pope? It's a sign, but Fitz isn't ready to assign a positive or negative connotation just yet. He chuckles at the irony of her last name.

"It was Stephen."

"Stephen who?"

"Stephen from law school."

"You're kidding. Oh my gosh, how is he doing? Where did you run into him? What's it been, seven, eight years?"

"Eight and he's doing well. Gave up law four years ago after he inherited his hippie uncle's ashram in Kauai."

"You're kidding, Stephen is the most driven person I know. He is worse than me."

"I know can you believe it. Apparently, his favorite uncle guilted him into staying with him a couple of months before he passed. He managed to set our friend on the path to a life of simplicity, wholeness and get this deep relational connection by tapping into his sensual chakra energy."

Abby sips her coffee, "Oh, this good, just the way I like it, thanks Liv."

"Anything for you my friend. I can't believe Stephen who complained dorms should have room service is living a simplistic life."

"He's gone all metaphysics, earth moon child on me. He runs a, I can't believe I'm saying this, a tantra yoga retreat for individuals and couples seeking deeper emotional connection and a deeper sexual experience through sensate intimacy."

"What? If memory serves, Stephen is the most uninhibited, oversexed, commitment-phobic person I ever met, aside from you of course. No offense."

"None taken. I'm not ashamed of having possibly been around the block more times than a postal worker. I like sex...scratch that, I like good sex."

Fitz takes a sip of his steaming brew, he's curious, does Olivia Pope like good sex?

"I know, who woulda thunk Stephen capable of pursuing anything spiritual. I mean he's a great friend, someone you can count on to have your back, but he's never been one for emotional intimacy or a committed relationship."

"I'd love to see him, how long is he in town?"

"He's leaving in a couple of hours and get this he's extended an invitation for us to attend an upcoming retreat. I know you have reservations about the surrogacy option, I get it. Having sex with someone whose job it is to have sex with you, and other people and paying for it seems like ..."

"Prostitution in a clinical form. Sitting each day talking with Dr. Ward I kept thinking, people pay prostitutes for sex but also to listen to their problems. The difference with surrogacy is I get a team to listen to my problems and man to have sex with I'm pretty sure is disease free. I can't reconcile being intimate with someone who basically gets paid to have sex with me under the auspices of supposedly teaching me how to connect with another person. The irony is we're both supposed to remain emotionally detached. They can spin the surrogacy sex therapy anyway they want but in my mind it's clinical prostitution. The surrogate is going take my virginity Abs, my virginity. Not in love, maybe not even in like, but I'm paying for a stranger to deflower me. I can't do it. I don't want to look back on my first time as a clinical or financial transaction.

Fitz falls back against the booth cushion in shock. How is it possible this gorgeous woman has never had sex? Now thoroughly intrigued, he continues listening, moving a little closer to the booth edge.

"Liv I can see the change in you. The therapy is working and whether or not to take the next step is entirely your decision. You don't have to characterize it in transactional terms, maybe a more appropriate description is a carefully orchestrated introduction into sexual intimacy under controlled conditions designed to provide you a positive experience. Trust me, a lot of women would love to erase the memory of their first time. Liv I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat. I told you how awful my first time was. I swear if I ever see Bryan Atwater again, I'll cut off his equipment put it in a blender, mix it with concrete and make it into a paver so I can step on it every time I walk into my house."

"Yes, you told me it was awful, although you never really provided any details."

"It's embarrassing Liv. Jer, that's what he preferred to be called was seventeen, outgoing, star tennis player and hiding a big secret. I was sixteen completely enamored with him. We started dating and six months in we decide it was time to do the do. We were both virgins and thought it be romantic to be each other's first. So, one night he sneaks into my basement after my parents go to bed. Our foreplay got hot and heavy quick, I don't even remember taking our clothes off. Just as were about to go completely nude he stops to turn off the lights. I'm thinking he's shy or something, so I tell him size doesn't matter to me.

"It's not that Abby, I don't want to shock you. My penis is different from other guys."

"Different how? Is it bent, unusually large or deformed in some way?"

"No, nothing like that. Um..um… I was born with diphallia."

"Di-whata?"

"Diphallia, a condition affecting my reproductive organ. It's rare, affecting one in every 5.5 million male births. I'm sorry if I sound like a medical documentary."

"Jer, it's okay. I promise, I won't flinch or gasp."

Abby takes a slow sip from her cup. She shakes her head as she recalls the memory from that night.

"Well, Olivia whines impatient?"

Abby leans forward across the table, signaling Olivia to join her. Olivia looks around to see if anyone is listening, before she huddles with Abby. Looking Olivia straight in the eyes Abby reveals Bryan's secret.

"He had two dicks, two full size functioning dicks. Ergo, di…phall…ia, she sings."

"Impossible! Two penises, Olivia squeals."

Half the heads in the café turn in their direction and Fitz nearly falls out his booth.

"Geez woman keep it down."

"Abby you're kidding, spell it." Olivia pulls out her phone and googles diphallia.

"You're not kidding." Abby raises an eyebrow giving Olivia an I told you so smirk.

"How did you…which one did he…?"

"He used both of them. After he broke my hymen with the first, he kept rotating because he didn't ejaculate. Ten painful minutes later he finally blows his load. He apologizes for using both but he said he wanted to make sure they both worked. He was a complete jerk, he never asked if I was alright or how I felt."

"How long did you stay a couple?"

"Long enough for him to get dressed. The perv had the nerve to ask me if I had a friend who would be interested in a threesome. He wanted see if his double dicks would work at the same. I kicked his ass to the curb and never spoke to him again."

Olivia takes Abby by the hand. "He was definitely an asshole. Want me to find him so you can kick in the balls? I'll hold his arms behind his back and let you work him over." The two friends break into a fit of laughter.

When the giggles subside, Olivia asks, "Question, …uhm did he have two or four balls?" They laugh even harder drawing more attention from curious café onlookers.

"Okay back to you. Given the fact you are apprehensive about the surrogate, I propose an alternative. Stephen's next retreat is in a week, I think learning and approaching intimacy through a carefully crafted meditative relational connection process is what you want. You've watched all the instructional porn videos so you know the mechanics, I think the retreat offers the missing link. Sex is sex, you can hook up with anybody, but you want intimacy and sensuality with an emotional connection, real communication and shared awareness."

"Yes, yes, yes, exactly."

"At the retreat you'll be with like-minded seekers. Stephen says there's a vetting process that groups the singles based on common interests, expectations, goals etc. Don't worry I'll go with you. I'll even be your partner if necessary." Olivia eyes turn saucer wide.

"Look, I just want you to have the option of experiencing the program with someone you know and trust. If the prospect of me massaging your naked oil covered body makes you uncomfortable, I'll understand."

Why did she say that? Fitz' mind automatically goes there. Olivia naked, sprawled across a blanket lying next to a fireplace. Her oily buttocks glisten from the flames. He's on his knees astride her, massaging her shoulders working out her kinks, slowly and methodically working his way down her sultry body. She moans softly, her whole body relaxes deriving pleasure from his touch. His penis slides up and down her oil slick back as he moves down her body. His hands cover her firm backside, spending extra time massaging each glute cheek. Her moans grow louder, more sensual. Fitz feels himself stiffening, he grabs his coffee and gulps it down without regard to the temperature. He needs the pain to disrupt the effects from his waking fantasy.

"Do you think it might be weird between us afterward? I mean you've barely seen me in my slip and bra.

"Uhm, maybe. You've seen me dance around my house butt-naked with my tatas jiggling freestyle and you haven't weirded out yet." They both laugh way too loud, not caring about the attention they're attracting.

"Look if we get there and you manage to get paired with a hunky hung specimen great. If not, I'll be your fallback." Abby extends her hand, "deal". Olivia shakes Abby's hand, "deal".

"You know if my parents ever find out about this, you'll be dead in a week."

"My lips are sealed and I have no doubt you'll take the details of this vacation to the grave. They'll never find out."

"You're right, I'm the only person they know who would go the something like this. My crisis of faith obviously makes me susceptible to this sort of carnal activity."

Did he I hear her right? She's having a crisis of faith too. Is god testing him? "Temptation thy name is definitely Olivia Pope", he signs wistfully.

Fitz decides in the moment he has to go after Olivia. But how, the only information he has is the retreat is run by someone named Stephen, it's on the island of Kauai, and it involves yoga.

"What's the retreat called?" Olivia asks.

"Tantric Meditation the Pathway to Meaningful Sensuality and Relational Transformation. Here, he gave me a few brochures. We're booked for the 19th, which means you have a week to tie up loose ends at work."

Fitz jots down the information.

Olivia flips through the glossy six-page brochure. "Wow, this place is beautiful. Abby the retreat is two to four weeks long. I'm not sure I can take off for two weeks. I'm working on several high-profile cases.

"Calm down Wendy Worrier. Cyrus had your secretary clear your schedule."

"What! You told Cyrus about this? Are you insane? Abby ..."

"Seriously Olivia, I'm insulted. Do you take me for an idiot? Have I ever betrayed your confidence? Have I've disclosed one tidbit of anything you've shared with?"

"No... I'm sorry Abs. Cyrus has noticed the change in me and I'm not ready to subject myself to his cross-examination thinly veiled as a mentor's concern. Abs you are my dearest friend, even closer than a sister. Please forgive me. Pretty please with a man covered in sugar on top."

"Olivia you really hurt my feelings. I'm extremely sensitive when it comes to you." Abby feigns offense. "Yes, we are closer than sisters. I have two, trust me I wouldn't share a stick of gum with those twits."

"What did you tell Cyrus?"

"I didn't lie."

"Abigail!"

"Calm down. I merely told him a friend we haven't seen in years invited us to a mini reunion in Hawaii."

"That's it. That's all you said."

"For the most part, yes."

"Abby, spill it all."

Waving her hand dismissively, "I may have mentioned Stephen inherited his uncle's sizable estate and I may have intimated Stephen was looking for a new law firm to represent him and I may have causally mentioned he was footing the entire bill for our little getaway."

"Well played Ms. Whelan, well played. Cyrus the cheapest man I know and he's always looking for an angle to bag a new client. The minute you mentioned sizeable estate, all expenses paid I bet he started salivating. Emphasizing 'sizable' was brilliant."

"Olivia Cyrus considers you the daughter he never had. The man will do anything for you and you know it; he wants you to be happy. He was happy to do this since you rarely take off and because you always give a 150 percent to the job."

"You're right he is my office father. Two weeks away should not be a problem."

Abby decides to wait and tell Olivia later Cyrus had her secretary clear her calendar for a month.

"Oh no look at the time I need to get to the office. You still coming over tonight?

"Do I ever miss lasagna night? I'll bring dessert."

The two friends quickly gather their belongs, hug and leave the coffee shop. Olivia in a rush to leave inadvertently leaves the brochure on the table. Fitz on his way out notices it on the table and picks it up. Smiling to himself, he whispers, "Temptation I will see you on the 19th."


AN- Finally, I hope it was worth the wait. Olivia has undergone some therapy and is less repressed, more open. She feels a connection to her mystery man but wonders where he is a patient or a working surrogate.

Father Fitz now has the name of his mystery woman. Do you think he'll be paired with his temptation at the retreat? How do think Olivia will react to seeing him there? How will he explain his presence? Will he attend the retreat as Fitz Grant or Jeremy West?

And yes, diphallia is a real condition. You know me I tend to find at least one interesting or bizarre fact to incorporate into my stories.

Thanks for sticking with me, reviewing, favoriting and following. If you've never left a review, I'd love to hear from you.

Next up, the retreat. Will Olivia end up with Fitz, Abby or someone else? Hey put down the pitchforks it was just a question. LOL

A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy Blessed Abundant New Year to you and your family. Have great week my friends.