by Luke Young
“What?” He opened his eyes.
“Let’s try this.” She pulled away from him then laid on her back and spread her legs. Her rounded belly bulged attractively on her tiny frame. Brian carefully positioned himself at her entrance and slipped inside.
“How’s that?” He gave her a hesitant look. “Better?”
“Good. Yeah, this is good.”
He slowly thrust into her using his hands to support his weight. Looking into his eyes, she ran her fingertips gently over his thighs, giving him an encouraging smile. He groaned in delight as he pumped away.
Closing his eyes, he flexed the muscles in his upper body and she brought one hand up to feel his firm chest as he moved faster and faster. Suddenly he breathed out deeply, smacking her in the face with semi-deadly morning breath. She convulsed and a wave of nausea washed over her.
She covered her mouth with both hands and her eyes watered as she hoped he would finish soon. He groaned and looked to the ceiling with his jaw hanging open, oblivious to her current condition and apparently in some super-focused state.
He pumped harder then looked down catching sight of her hands covering her mouth, her eyes watering, and the look of absolute discomfort on her face. “Are you… okay?” He struggled to say while his thrusts slowed.
Still distressed, she nodded quickly. “Mm-hm.”
“Are you sure?” he asked with growing concern.
She dry heaved and he stopped moving. “You’re not okay.” He climbed off her and she took off toward the bathroom and slammed the door.
When she returned a few minutes later, her face was still a little pale. She found him sitting up against the headboard under the covers. She sighed. “I was good for a while, but then…”
“That’s okay.” He laughed. “I was used to women looking up at me like that during sex when I was in college, but not really since then.”
She slipped in bed next to him, held her hand over her mouth, and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t worry about it.”
“Are you okay?” She pulled the covers off him and glanced at his still hard penis. “Did you finish?”
“No.”
“I don’t think I can do it now.” She gave him a sorrowful look. “You can do yourself if you want.”
“Maybe later.” He shrugged. “You want me to rub your feet or something?”
“No, I’m okay. I just need to lay here for a while.”
“You want a cup of tea?” He placed a hand on her arm.
“That would be nice.” She smiled. “I think tea might help.”
“Good.” He stood up and his erection was showing no signs of calming down.
She pointed to it. “Really you can take care of that now if you want. I can wait for my tea.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, baby. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I love you.” He headed toward the bathroom.
“I love you too. But hey.”
“What?” He turned back.
“Just don’t leave a big mess in the sink,” she said in a parental tone.
“I never do.”
She returned a skeptical look.
“Okay, I’ll be more careful.” He turned and headed off, his swaying erection seemingly guiding him to the privacy of the bathroom.
7
In Victoria’s backyard, Jillian headed past the pool toward the combined guesthouse and office. The structure was large and featured separate entrances for the guest and office sides. She knocked on the partially open office door. “Victoria?”
“Come in,” Victoria called back.
“Jim said you were back here.” Jillian stepped into the newly decorated waiting area and glanced around the room. “This looks nice.”
“I love how it turned out.” Victoria finished adjusting the pillows on the dark gray loveseat. Motioning with her head toward the wall, she shrugged. “What do you think of the paint color?”
Nodding, Jillian walked over to the wall. “I like it. Is it just white?”
“It’s called Drifting Snow. It has a touch of gray in it. Can you tell?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I thought it might be too light.” Victoria frowned. “I’ve really got to stop picking paint colors purely because they have pretty names.”
“No, I like it. You can tell it’s got a gray tinge to it. It really works with the sofa.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah,” Jillian began. “I mean, it’s such a small space that you don’t want to go too dark.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Did you do all this yourself?”
“I picked everything out, but I didn’t paint. My contractor had his guys paint.” Victoria wrapped her hand around her wrist and made a face. “Last time I did some painting I couldn’t give Jim a handjob for a couple of weeks.”
Jillian sighed. “That’s more than I needed to know, but thanks for sharing.”
“What?” Victoria shot her an insulted look. “I can’t tell you things anymore?”
“You can.”
“You know how much the Nash boys enjoy a handjob.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s all men.” Jillian raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Victoria said then the two friends shared a chuckle. “Hey, let me show you my new rooms.”
Victoria opened the door to a short hallway, which included three doors. She pointed to the left. “My office is still the same, but we took over some of the space from the guest side to expand one room and add another.”
She opened the first door on the right and stepped into a small room about the size of a powder room, which contained only a desk and two chairs. On one wall was a huge glass window that featured a view into a tastefully decorated bedroom containing a king-size bed.
“What is this?”
“This is the observation room. I read about a therapist in the UK who has a setup like this so I decided to put one in.”
Jillian moved to the glass and peered into the room. “Is this a one-way mirror?”
“Exactly.”
“So you watch couples have sex?” Jillian turned to her in mild shock.
“Only when the situation calls for it. I’ve had four couples use it so far and only two required observation. I also had a sex surrogate in here last week who worked with a client.”
“Interesting.”
“You know, we really needed a setup like this when I was working with you and Brian.”
“First, I wouldn’t call that… whatever the hell that was…” Jillian made quote marks with her fingers, “… working with us and second I was really high at the time.”
“But I thought I really helped you both.” Victoria frowned.
Jillian scoffed. “You mostly made inappropriate comments and pretended to make notes for some fake assignment.”
“Yeah, but I did help you both. Before I got my hands on you, neither of you had any idea how to do anal.”
“Um, I think I would have survived without that knowledge.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Plus your hands were part of the problem. Did you really need to help Brian with the condom?”
“Probably not, but I was new to all this, also high and obviously unaware of the boundaries,” Victoria said while wearing an uneasy smile.
“Apparently.” Jillian held back a laugh. “Please tell me you don’t give your clients a hand now or smoke pot in here or make inappropriate comments while you’re watching them.”
“No.” Victoria held her head high. “I don’t do any of that. I’m a professional now.”
“Good.”
“I mean, occasionally I do think of inappropriate things I want to say, but I don’t say them out loud.”
“Who doesn’t do that?” Pausing, Jillian ran her finger over the glass then said, “I couldn’t imagine watching people have sex. That would be weird. Don’t you get all, you know, worked up?�
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“Parts of it can be stimulating sometimes. But let’s just say that the couples I see have… issues and watching them work through these issues can be sometimes more cringe-worthy than erotic.”
“That makes sense.”
“The therapist I was telling you about in the UK— she has sex with some of her patients.”
“Please tell me you’re not considering doing that?” Jillian winced.
“Oh, no. I don’t think I could do that. Plus I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve.” Victoria headed out of the observation room and into the bedroom.
“You think!” Bugging out her eyes, Jillian followed her over. “So couples feel comfortable with you watching them?”
“Yes, this room provides a safe environment to explore solutions to their sexual problems— sort of like going to a hotel.”
“Yeah, hotel sex can be amazing.” Jillian looked into the big mirror situated right in front of the bed. “I don’t like watching myself while I do it.”
“Really?” Victoria gave her a look. “I love doing that.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You should learn to love your body.”
“Oh, I love my body. I just don’t want to watch myself while I’m having sex.”
“Some people find it erotic and you could learn a lot.”
“What could I learn?” Jillian gave her a skeptical look.
“Um, you could find your clitoris.”
“Found it decades ago.”
Victoria shot her a frown.
“Okay,” Jillian grumbled. “Maybe I only found it a few years ago, but I know exactly where it is now.”
“Well, you could learn…” Victoria paused looking to the ceiling. “Ah hell… Maybe you can’t learn anything, but it is pretty sexy.”
The two friends shared a laugh.
8
A few days later Victoria was meeting with a new client named Peter. He was a tall, slightly overweight, thirty-eight-year-old man who had been living with his mother continuously until her death the previous year. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, although he could probably use both a new wardrobe and a lot more confidence.
He confessed that his mother coddled him and ruled his life. That she had always told him that women were ‘no good’. He told Victoria that he’d only had two girlfriends during his life—the first one during his senior year of college. It was a girl who took his virginity and mocked him when he could not maintain an erection. His erectile issues occurred during that first time and virtually all their other attempts during their four-month relationship. With his confidence lacking and his mother’s smothering, he didn’t date again until a few months after his mother’s passing.
“I met a new woman, Karen, about five months ago and after a few weeks, things became physical. I, um…” Peter looked away. “I found myself having the same exact problems keeping it, you know, hard after we’d start.”
“How did Karen react?”
“She didn’t make fun of me like the other one, but I could tell she was not happy.”
“Was it just during intercourse that you lost your erections or was it during oral or hand manipulation also?”
“You mean, like… blowjobs?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, we never did anything like that.”
“Okay.” Victoria gave him a compassionate look. “And are you still seeing Karen?”
“No, she told me she met someone else and that she didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“That’s too bad. Do you have any difficulties maintaining an erection when masturbating?”
“I don’t do that.” Peter shook his head. “My mother always said that touching yourself in that way is like inviting Satan into your life.”
“Oh…” She looked at him a little shocked. “Masturbation is an important part of our sexuality. It not only helps us explore what we like in bed, it flushes toxins out of the body, making men who ejaculate frequently a third less likely to develop prostate cancer. It has other health benefits as well. Like lowering blood pressure and producing endorphins. Those are the chemicals responsible for easing stress and helping us to relax.”
“Oh, Doctor Nash, I don’t think I could ever do that. In remembrance of my mother, I don’t think I could.”
“I understand completely.” She picked up a pad and wrote a few words. “The first thing we need to do is identify whether your problem is physiological or psychological in nature.”
She looked him over. “Carrying excess weight can lead to erection problems and although you appear to be a few pounds overweight, I don’t think at your age that could be the issue. If you’re not getting at least three hours a week of moderate exercise, I would start that as soon as possible. Even a brisk walk every day or every other day would suffice.”
“Okay.”
“Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“Are you on any medication?”
“No.”
“Any history of heart disease or diabetes?”
“No.”
She made notes on her pad. “How many alcoholic drinks would you say you have in a week?”
“I don’t drink.”
“Okay.” She rubbed her chin. “I would like to send you to your doctor for a complete physical including a testosterone test. Low testosterone can be a serious factor in erectile problems.”
“All right.”
“Once we rule out all physiological factors, we can focus on the psychological ones. Our brain can put so much pressure on our body that we cannot function. If it is your brain that is causing the erectile dysfunction, then we can employ a variety of methods to attempt to treat it.”
“Like what?”
“If you were currently in a relationship, I would give you exercises to try with your partner.”
“Since I don’t have anyone, what can we do?” he asked.
“In situations such as this, there are options like utilizing the services of a sexual surrogate.”
“A woman paid to have sex with me.” He cringed. “Isn’t that like going to a prostitute?”
“No, Peter. It is nothing like that. A sexual surrogate is a trained professional who is there to help treat your problems. And if your problems are, indeed, psychological in nature a sex surrogate may just be the best option.”
“Okay, but Doctor Nash I’m anxious to get started. I’ve met a woman who I’m very much attracted to, but I haven’t yet asked out. She seems to be interested in me also. But I’m hesitant to pursue her since I don’t want to have it end in disaster and once again ruin my chances.”
“That is understandable. There is no reason we cannot get started as soon as the test results from the physical are in. How’s that sound?”
“Great. I really appreciate it.”
“Peter, I promise I will do everything in my power to help you.”
9
Brian entered the house and the smell of delicious Italian food filled his nostrils. Smiling, he walked into the kitchen and found the table set and Jillian gazing at him wearing a sheer blouse and sexy elastic waist maternity miniskirt.
“You look adorable. Is that new?”
“It is. I saw it online. They’re making such cute maternity clothes now.” Moving to the sink, she shook a colander full of spaghetti to drain the water.
“You seem…” he curled his lip pensively, “… like you’re in a really good mood.”
“I am.” She dumped the pasta in a big bowl then spread a ladle full of sauce over it. “I was writing today and found myself craving two things.”
He moved in behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her neck. “Let me guess Italian food is one.”
“Uh-huh.” She leaned her head to one side then reached back to grab his rear end. “And you’re the other.”
“I was hoping you were going to say that.” He nibbled on her neck some more then breathed in her scent. “You smell amazing.”
“I jus
t took a bath.”
“Oh my God. I feel like skipping the Italian food and just eating you instead.” Slipping down to his knees, he lifted her miniskirt up uncovering her tiny black thong. “Wow, you’re even thonging it up.”
Leaning forward, she gave him better access to her. “You like.”
He placed a gentle kiss on one of her cheeks. “I do.”
“You don’t think my rear end is getting too big do you?”
“Wait, this isn’t a test is it?” Be pulled back from her.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember Vegas?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m just asking.”
“Okay.” He kissed her again. “It’s perfect. It looks exactly the same.”
“You’re crazy. It’s definitely bigger.”
He pressed his lips on her other cheek then after placing a kiss on her lower back, he licked the top of her cleft. She shuddered then reached back and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.” She moaned in frustration. “But the food’s getting cold.”
“You sure…” He spread her cheeks apart a bit then licked her just above her spot. He moved back and said in a slow suggestive voice, “… you don’t want to eat later.”
“My stomach is going kuc kuc kuc.”
“Okay,” he whined then rose to his feet. “The food looks almost as good as you do.”
“I know, right?”
She opened up the oven and pulled out eggplant parmesan.
“You didn’t tell me you made eggplant.” His jaw fell open.
“What would that have mattered?”
“No offense, but I wouldn’t have been lifting up your skirt. I would have been taking my seat at the table.”
“Really?” She looked at him with mocked insult.
“As much as I like spending time with your gorgeous ass, yes, I like your eggplant parm just a little more.” He carried the bowl of pasta to the table and sat.
Frowning, she carried the pan to the table and placed it on top of a potholder. “That’s disappointing.”
“I must say that it’s close though. Your eggplant just barely beats out your ass.” He held his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “Just barely.”
