The First Session | NC17 | Prime
Title: The First Session
Prompt: subtext between the two characters
Fandom: Lisa/Rafi, Prime
Requested by: kitnkabootle
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 1306
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: You know, the movie Prime is eight thousand times better when you fast forward to all the parts with Meryl. The scenes with Rafi and Dave are just boring…the real chemistry is between therapist and patient. I was begged to write this, so I hope it fulfilled what was wanted! Sorry if it's out of character…I've only seen the movie one and a half times because, when Meryl's not on screen, it's crap. Hope you like it anyway!
-
Rafi has no idea how, after so many years of therapy, she never managed to stumble across the fact that she likes women. She likes men too, but this? Right now, with her lips fastened to Lisa's collarbone and her hands fumbling beneath her blouse?
Very much into women.
She keeps telling herself that this is wrong, that this is not what she wanted when she came to see Lisa. She tries to tell herself that she meant for nothing inappropriate to happen. She just wanted to talk…
Rafi paced back and forth in front of the door. She had nearly lost her nerve on three different occasions but, after taking a fortifying breath, decided that she had nothing left to lose. When Lisa Metzger opened the door, her mouth formed a perfect "O" as she stared in bewildered surprise.
"You're not Sarah Smith."
"No…um…I didn't know if you'd see me so I sort of…"
"Lied?"
Rafi shrugged helplessly.
"Of course I'd have seen you," Lisa said, hugging Rafi to her reassuringly. Her hands awkwardly rubbed Rafi's back and Rafi had been unable to ignore the delight that warmed her body at the contact. "You look great."
Rafi's delight is blinding now, her body singing as Lisa shifts beneath her on the comfortable purple sofa. Lisa's glasses have been knocked carelessly to the side of the couch and Rafi pauses for a moment, folding the stems and placing them carefully on the table beside the couch.
She lowers her face, kissing Lisa once more. She doesn't know how she's ever lived without this.
Lisa takes Rafi's face in her hands, as she did that last day in the kitchen, and holds her close as her lips timidly move against hers. Rafi wonders if she's pushing Lisa into this, if it's her own wants that are controlling the situation, but Lisa sighs contentedly against her. Lisa's leg shifts, hooks around Rafi's hips, and pulls her closer.
The couch, the site of her former refuge, was uncomfortable when Rafi first took her seat. She stared at Lisa, seated across from her in her brown armchair. They regarded each other warily, staring for several minutes with polite smiles plastered to their faces, before Lisa held out the bowl of candy from the small table beside her chair. Rafi declined and Lisa tapped her fingers upon the glass before setting it down.
"What have you been doing with yourself all this time?"
Rafi chewed the soft flesh of her inner cheek, looking at the familiar furniture in the room. "Work's been great. No trouble with the ex. Parents are fine. Sister is a pain." She smiled helplessly. "It's been more or less the same."
"Do you feel fulfilled?"
Rafi suspects that something inside of her is waking up when she molds her hand around Lisa's cotton-encased breast, her body tingling when she feels Lisa's nipple pebbling against her palm. Something inside of her rejoices, an "I did this!" urging her forward. Her confidence, which has been waning significantly over the past year, is expanding and taking hold of her once again.
Even in her excessive, endless fantasizing, she'd never have imagined that her conservative Jewish therapist would harbor such a passionate disposition. Lisa sucks at the curve of her throat and Rafi hisses and moans.
She's never felt like this before, not even with Dave…
No.
She will not compare the two. She would do them each a disservice to judge mother and son against each other.
However, she can't help but revel in the heat of Lisa's core as it presses against her stomach.
"And how's your love life been? Have you been…seeing anyone?"
"I'd been seeing someone for a while. After Dave, I mean. I didn't work out. I just…I haven't found what I've been looking for. I've been lonely. I have someone on my mind and no matter how many dates I go on, it always comes back to someone else."
Lisa had shifted uncomfortably. "This loneliness, this…other person: is it David?"
"No. And I didn't come back here to talk about him."
"Why did you come back, Rafi?"
"Because of you."
Fastening her mouth around one taut nipple, Rafi hums in exquisite pleasure. Lisa shifts and squirms beneath her, holding her shirt up to allow for Rafi's enthusiastic ministrations. She cups the back of Rafi's head, her fingers scratching at her scalp as she emits soft sighs and whimpers and begs for her to continue.
Rafi is nothing if not compliant. She doesn't think she could stop if she tried.
The soft swell of Lisa's breast rubs against her cheek and she moans, pushing aside her own inhibitions. Rafi decides that, if she's going to do this, she's going to do it wholeheartedly.
She casts a glance up and is rendered breathless at what she sees. Lisa's head is thrown back, her rich brown hair mussed against the arm of the sofa. Her lips are parted, emitting silent cries of shocked pleasure.
Rafi has wanted to do this since before she sat in the Metzger kitchen. Now that she has her here, splayed beneath her, Rafi never wants her to leave.
"I'm afraid I'm not following."
"I didn't come back specifically to have you…therapize me."
"You're not here for therapy?"
"Not exactly."
"I'm afraid I'm not following," Lisa repeated.
"I needed to talk to you because…because no one else knows me like you do. And I have these…feelings."
"Feelings."
"Yes," Rafi said, tearing her gaze away from the clasped hands in her lap. "Feelings."
Lisa's eyes, always so expressive, slowly evolved from inquisitive to shocked. True to form, Lisa's intuition eased her mind in the direction that Rafi had so ineloquently tried to make apparent.
"Rafi, I…I don't know that these are the sorts of things we should be discussing."
"Why not?"
"Wouldn't you say that it's rather…unprofessional?"
"I would think it's just as unprofessional to neglect to inform a patient that she's dating her therapist's son. That never stopped you."
Lisa opened her mouth to speak but closed it, a color rising to her cheeks. "All right, Rafi. Explain your feelings to me."
Words are complicated for Rafi. She hasn't spent years in therapy because she's good at expressing herself verbally. If she were, she wouldn't have spent nearly as much time or money on sessions to get to the core of what's troubling her.
In this instance, actions are speaking so much louder than words.
When she slowly slides her fingers into Lisa's surprisingly tight, warm center, the therapist arches her back and stares unblinking at the ceiling. Lisa is quiet save for her breathy sighs and snorts of air. Rafi holds her breath and stills her hand, allowing Lisa to stretch around her long fingers. She worries that Lisa is regretting their actions, worries that Lisa is unhappy or displeased, and wonders if she's hurt her.
She prepares to pull out.
And then, without warning, Lisa's walls begin to clamp around her, contracting in quick spasms that seem to last for hours. Lisa's mouth is open and no sound escapes.
Rafi can't believe she's just made Lisa come with so little effort. Not wanting to admit that it's over, she begins to move again, twisting and curling her fingers slowly inside of her. Lisa does not climax so soon this time and, when she does, her groan is muffled into the back of her wrist.
"This is so unethical, Rafi…"
"Let's not worry so much about ethics. Let's worry about us for once, okay?"
As Lisa eases back into the cushions of the couch, her breath coming back to her body, Rafi stares in complete adoration. Today, for the first time, she's held herself accountable for how she feels. She's gone after what she wants without shame.
She feels like a whole person.
---