Chapter 4: The Teammate's Curiosity
The afternoon sun hung low over the San Diego Women's Golf Facility, casting long shadows across the pristine putting green. Joanna's cleats clicked against the pavement as she approached, her golf bag slung over one shoulder, her body still humming with a warmth she couldn't quite name. The chlorine-scented air from the nearby pool complex mixed with the smell of fresh-cut grass, and she found herself inhaling deeply, trying to ground herself in the familiar.
She spotted Katie immediately.
Her teammate was sprawled across the practice green like she owned it, one leg bent at the knee, her putter resting across her stomach. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she'd shed her windbreaker, leaving her in just a tank top and golf shorts. A half-empty bottle of electrolyte water sat beside her, condensation beading on the plastic.
"You look like you're sunbathing, not practicing," Joanna called out, dropping her bag onto the grass.
Katie opened one eye, squinting up at her. A slow grin spread across her face. "Look who finally decided to show up. I was starting to think Rachel broke you."
Joanna's stomach did a little flip at the name. She busied herself with pulling out her putter, avoiding Katie's gaze. "I'm not broken. I'm just late."
"Late." Katie sat up, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. "You're never late, Jo. You're the most annoyingly punctual person I've ever met."
Joanna crouched down, lining up a putt. The ball rolled toward the hole, curving slightly, catching the lip and spinning out. She cursed under her breath.
"Interesting," Katie said, drawing the word out. "Your aim's off. That's new."
"Shut up."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"You're thinking it."
Katie's grin widened as she laid back down on the grass, stretching her arms above her head. "So. Are you going to make me ask, or are you going to spontaneously burst into tears and confess every detail?"
Joanna lined up another putt. This one dropped, clean and true. She allowed herself a small nod, then straightened up, finally meeting Katie's eyes.
"I'm not crying. I'm just processing."
"Processing." Katie repeated the word like she was tasting it. She stood up in one fluid motion, brushing grass from her shorts, and wandered over to Joanna. "That's the word you're using? Processing. Tell me, does this 'processing' involve any particular details I should know about?"
Joanna's face flushed. She turned back to the green, setting up another ball. "She was nice. Professional."
"Nice and professional," Katie echoed. "That's the most boring description of an orgasm I've ever heard."
"Katie—"
"Did she use her tongue?"
Joanna choked on air. She coughed, gripping her putter like a lifeline, while Katie stood there with her arms crossed, a satisfied smirk on her face.
"That's a yes, then," Katie said, delighted. "Oh my God. How long did she—"
"I'm not having this conversation in the middle of the putting green."
"Why not? No one's around. Everyone's either in the locker room or at the pool. It's just us." Katie gestured expansively. "This is a safe space, Jo. You can tell me everything."
Joanna looked around. The facility was mostly empty, the practice areas deserted. A few golfers dotted the driving range in the distance, but the putting green was theirs alone. She let out a long breath, leaning on her putter.
"She was..." Joanna trailed off, searching for the right word. "Thorough."
Katie's eyebrows shot up. "Thorough. That's promising." She plopped down on the grass, patting the spot beside her. "Sit. Tell me everything. Wait, no, tell me the important stuff first—did you actually have an orgasm, or did you fake it?"
"I didn't fake it."
"Really?"
"Really. She was really good at, um..." Joanna gestured vaguely at her own back.
"At what? Giving you a massage? Making you feel comfortable? Because I need specifics here, Jo."
Joanna sat down heavily, pulling her knees to her chest. She stared at the manicured grass, at the tiny blades that all seemed to be pointing in the same direction, perfectly aligned. The sun was warm on her shoulders.
"She gave me a massage first," she said slowly. "Worked out all the knots in my back. I didn't realize I was holding that much tension."
"That's the usual opening move," Katie mused. "Then what?"
"Then she..." Joanna hesitated. "She kissed me."
Katie's eyes went wide. "Where?"
"My back. Spine. Shoulders." Joanna's voice dropped. "It was nice. Really nice. And then she asked if she could touch me."
"And you said yes?"
"I said yes."
Katie made a small sound of approval. "Good. That's good. Consent is everything." She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. "And then what?"
Joanna's face was burning now, but the words were coming easier. "She touched me over my underwear first. Just, like, holding me. Then she started moving her fingers in circles, and it felt..."
"Felt what?"
"Like I was going to come apart."
Katie was silent for a moment. Then she reached over and squeezed Joanna's hand, a rare gesture of tenderness from her perpetually brash friend. "That's how it's supposed to feel, Jo. That's the whole point."
"I know," Joanna said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't expect it to be that intense. She had me come twice."
Katie let out a low whistle. "Twice? On the first session? Rachel's got skills."
"Tell me about it." Joanna let out a shaky laugh, finally looking up at Katie. "I feel like I'm walking around in a different body. Everything's more sensitive. The fabric of my shirt feels weird. The air feels different."
"That's the post-orgasm glow," Katie explained matter-of-factly. "It'll fade in a few hours. But the good news is, you get to do it again. Twice a week, for two years."
"I don't know if I can do this twice a week," Joanna admitted. "It's a lot."
Katie tilted her head, studying her. "A lot good, or a lot bad?"
"A lot good," Joanna said slowly. "Which is the weird part. I keep expecting to feel guilty about it, or ashamed, or something. But I don't." She paused, picking at a blade of grass. "Is that normal?"
"Normal?" Katie laughed, running a hand through her ponytail. "Jo, there's no normal when it comes to this stuff. Everyone reacts differently. Some people cry, some people laugh, some people walk out of there like they're floating on a cloud. The important thing is that you're okay and you're ready to try again."
Joanna considered this. The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. She could hear the distant sound of the pool's filter, the steady hum of the sprinklers coming on across the course.
"Did you cry?" she asked quietly.
Katie's expression softened. "First time? Yeah. A little." She shrugged. "It caught me off guard. I'd been so focused on getting through the orgasm, on performing it the right way, that I forgot to actually feel it. When I did feel it—really feel it—it was overwhelming."
"In a good way?"
"In the best way," Katie said firmly. "Because that's when I realized this isn't something I have to perform. It's something I get to experience. And that's been my motto ever since."
Joanna turned the words over in her mind. Experience, not perform. She thought about Rachel's hands on her shoulders, her voice steady and reassuring. There had been no pressure to react a certain way, no expectation to perform. Just patience and warmth and a Tender—deliberate—slowness that had melted something inside her.
"I think I understand," she said finally. "It's not about the destination. It's about..."
"The journey?" Katie offered, grinning.
"God, that's corny."
"Corny but true." Katie nudged her shoulder. "So, are you going to call her later? Rachel? I mean, you can't call her, but you can definitely show up early to your next appointment and have a little extra 'processing' time."
Joanna's flush returned. "I don't even know if she'd be into that."
"She's your therapist, Jo. Her whole job is being into whatever you're into. That's literally what she gets paid for. Well, not literally—the government pays her—but you get my point."
Joanna laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"I'm helpful," Katie corrected. "There's a difference." She stood up, brushing off her shorts, and extended a hand to Joanna. "Come on. Let's do a few more putts before the light's gone. You can tell me more about Rachel while we practice, and I'll pretend I'm not going to bring it up at dinner."
"You're going to bring it up at dinner."
"Obviously. But you'll get to warm up with a little practice first."
Joanna took her hand and let Katie pull her to her feet. She grabbed her putter, rolling the shaft between her palms.
The tension had left her shoulders—completely. The ache that had lived behind her shoulder blades, the one she'd carried through finals and tournaments and every early morning practice, was gone. She felt light, almost floaty, like the ground beneath her feet was sure and steady and entirely real.
She lined up another putt, her eyes on the hole, her breath steady and even.
"It was just the beginning," she thought.
She sank the putt, and the ball disappeared into the cup with a satisfying rattle.
"Nice shot," Katie said.
"Thanks." Joanna straightened up. She looked out across the green, at the flags fluttering in the breeze, at the blue sky and the low clouds rolling in from the coast. For the first time in weeks, months—years maybe—she felt the pure, simple joy of being exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.
She thought about Rachel's hands, her mouth, her steady patience. She thought about the way it felt to let go, to be seen, to be held.
"Hey, Jo?" Katie's voice cut through her thoughts. "You're smiling. Like, actually smiling. It's kind of creepy."
Joanna laughed, the sound surprising her. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something."
"Uh-huh. I bet you were." Katie lined up her own putt, winking at Joanna. "Let's finish this round, and then you can tell me every detail over dinner. I'm craving sushi."
"Sounds good." Joanna stepped up to the ball, her heart light. The sun was setting, gold and pink and warm. She was standing on a familiar green, with her friend, thinking about a woman who had just changed something fundamental about how she saw herself. And for the first time, she didn't want to rush away from that feeling.
She was ready for whatever came next.