by Anita Cox
Reaching inside my panties, I let my index finger roll back and forth over my clit, which was swelling and hardening as it welcomed the attention. After years of masturbation, this didn’t feel as satisfactory as it once had, so I grabbed my little silver buddy, turned it on and let it do the gliding over my clit. Involuntary moans escaped me.
I planted my stick-able dildo on the table and eased myself onto it. It felt less foreign this time. I watched as this woman, still tied to the bed got a pounding from behind. She moaned and screamed in pleasure and I fucked my dildo for all it was worth. Reaching up, I cupped my breast and twisted my nipple slightly. The sensation traveled straight to the depth of my pussy and I bucked as an unexpected orgasm came swiftly.
It was a glorious end to a crazy day. I wanted more, but worried that over-doing it would reduce the effects. I began to wonder if one could over-masturbate? The goal was not to have to masturbate.
I pulled the card out Stacy had handed to me. The card looked professional enough, as if you could make any decisions based on a business card. What did a sex therapist do exactly? Was there something wrong with me?
I was sitting on my couch, dripping wet and sore from riding the hell out of a dildo that had its own suction cup wondering if something was wrong with me. Of course there was something wrong with me. Alone and horny is a big problem.
The type of loneliness I felt wasn’t the sort where I wanted to find a boyfriend. The only benefit a boyfriend would bring was a constant sex partner. After being with the same man, the wrong man, for far too many years, I wanted choices. I wanted flavor. I wanted to fuck men and women. I wanted to try it all.
I was calling the therapist in the morning.
****
It took a week for me to get into her office. Every night I considered cancelling the appointment and every day, I sat wondering what it would do for me. It was finally time. I was in her waiting area, my heart pounding.
I trusted Stacy and she felt this woman could help me.
“Candy?” A silky voice came from behind me.
“That’s me,” I said standing, smoothing my shirt, or maybe I was drying the sweat off my palms?
“Come on in,” she said.
I shook as I took a seat in her small room. It looked somewhat like a library with a fainting couch. Yep, it look exactly like what I thought a therapists room should look like.
“My name is Linda. So why don’t we start by telling me why you’re here.” She leaned back and crossed her legs. There was no notepad in her hand, no recorder. She took a cup of coffee and sipped while staring at me with her crystal blue eyes.
“My friend thought you could help me.” I gulped.
She smiled and put her cup down on the table next to her. “No, that’s not what I mean. How can I help you? What brings you to my office?”
I fidgeted with my skirt, looking down to avoid eye contact.
“Candy,” she said softly, “if you don’t speak, I can’t help. This is a safe room. You can talk about whatever you want to in here. Only then, can I decide how to help you.”
I stared at her, having no idea what to say.
“Okay. I’m a sex therapist. So why don’t we talk about sex? When is the last time you had any?” she asked.
“With myself, or another human?” I chuckled. My face burned red hot.
“Masturbation is a form of sex.”
“Last night.” I answered.
“And when was the last time you had sex with someone other than yourself?”
“Can I have coffee or something? If you have some vodka that would be great.”
Linda walked over to a desk in the corner that held a tray with coffee. She poured a cup, adding a healthy dose of Irish Cream. She handed me the cup.
“Now, let’s have it. When’s the last time you fucked?”
My jaw dropped at her profanity. It didn’t seem very professional.
“A year and a half. I think. But I only had sex with my husband. Ex-husband. He was my first and my last and he was lousy. I’m so inexperienced and uneducated. My girlfriend had a toy party with a demonstration that totally blew my mind and then she gave me a porno and dildos and I really need to get laid but right now, I just had my first real orgasm and I’m totally fucking lost and horny and alone and I definitely don’t want a relationship. I just want to fuck like a rabbit and be left alone.”
I couldn’t believe the words that had just flown out of my mouth. I covered my mouth with my right hand for a split second, then removed it, sipping at my coffee, which seemed like a more natural thing to do.
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere.” Linda nodded.
I spent the next fifteen minutes admitting that I’d never even received oral sex let alone anything beyond missionary position was not in my repertoire.
Linda walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a disclaimer.
“Read it. Read the whole thing. It says you agree to be touched, fucked, manipulated and evaluated. If you agree to this, I can help you.”
“I thought you were a shrink?” I said in astonishment.
“I do not appreciate that word. I am a certified and licensed therapist, but I’ve concentrated my practice solely to sexuality and problems revolving around sexuality. I do a little therapy, sometimes I am a sexual surrogate, but mostly, I do whatever it takes to help people become sexually free.” Linda stood, looking down at me. “I’m going to give you ten minutes to read that document. I will be back. If you sign it, I’ll give you further instructions. If you don’t, today’s session is free and we shall part ways. Do not skip the non-disclosure section. It’s important for you to remember not to discuss our sessions.”
She didn’t wait for questions, she simply left.
I stared at the paper for a moment considering if I wanted her help or not, and wondering what that might entail. I read the document. I read it a second time. I thought about Stacy and she had my trust. Holding my breath, I signed it.
Linda reentered the room after a few more minutes, scooped up the document, tearing a copy off for me to keep.
“Very well then,” she handed me an envelope. “Be here tomorrow at six in the evening. Don’t be late. The instructions for you are in there. Do not read it until you get home.”
She held out her hand to shake mine. I took it.
“Tomorrow then,” she said.
“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Arriving at the office late wasn’t something my company usually accepted. If it wasn’t for my impeccable record, I’d have been fired.
Olivia, my new assistant followed me into my office. She handed me a stack of messages and a fresh cup of coffee. I loved her already.
“Dude! If you’re going to be late, just let me know. I’ve been fielding messages from your douchebag boss all morning. I told him you had an appointment.”
“What did he say?” I asked, skimming through messages.
“He kept asking questions, so I told him you had a girlie appointment.”
I looked up at her. You could have parked a semi in my mouth. “You didn’t!”
“I did. He didn’t ask any more questions after that!” she laughed. “Hey,” she said looking at the horrific expression cemented on my face, “don’t fret. Answers like that to a man will stop questions every time. He doesn’t want to hear it and he knows he can’t tell you to make those appointments on your own time.”
“Uh, thanks.” My knees felt weak.
“No problem. Next time you’re going to be late just send me text so I can cover.” She scooped up my blackberry off the desk and programmed her cell phone number in my phone, sending herself a text from it so she’d have my personal number.
I wanted to protest.
“Now, I finished that proposal that was on my desk. It’s in your inbox. Take a peek and let me know what you think. I can make any changes you need. And if I haven’t said so, thank you. It feels awesome to be working again and so far, I’m r
eally digging this job.”
“I uh, had a personal thing this morning.” I didn’t know what else to say and clearly, I wasn’t going to tell her the truth.
“Just put “yoga” in your calendar. I’ll know that means to cover for you. Does that work?” She was serious. The look on her face said as much. She was all business.
“Since I don’t take yoga, that will work.” I took a deep breath. I really adored her so much more than the last assistant. “Thank you so much for covering for me.”
She grinned, gave me a wave and went back to her desk.
I finally had a moment to myself. I gazed out the window to the city below. There had to be a lot of fuckable people down there and I was stuck here. Marketing wasn’t sexy. A job, wasn’t sexy. I wasn’t sexy.
Totally unable to quash my curiosity, I opened the envelope. The paper inside contained very specific instructions: 1. Be certain your genitalia is clean shaven or waxed. 2. Be willing to speak open sexually. 3. Be willing and ready to have sex. 4. Do not discuss the meetings as per the non-disclosure statement. 5. Get plenty of rest the night before.
My mind could not absorb the words on the paper. I retreated to the coffee room. What had I just signed myself up for? I wanted to call Stacy and interrogate her, but I’d just signed a legal document stating I would not discuss it.
I picked at a muffin, my mind lost in thought.
“Hey, Candy?” Olivia was standing in the doorway to the coffee room.
“Olivia, I’m sorry, do you need me?” I tossed the muffin in the garbage. I didn’t like poppy seeds anyway.
“Do you want to grab a drink after work?”
Her face showed signs of concern. Her brow was wrinkled and her eyes were partially squinted, but there was a hopeful tone in her voice. I didn’t have any other plans on a Friday night.
“Sure. Why not?” I offered a weak smile and headed back to my office.
My mind so full, it seemed like only minutes before Olivia was knocking on my door.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Ready?”
“Drinks? You and me? Work is over.” She pointed at her watch.
“Damn. Where did the day go?” I asked standing up and closing my laptop. Slinging my purse over my shoulder I looked up at Oliva. She had changed into jeans. “Uh, I’m a little overdressed. I don’t really carry a change of clothes around.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind. We can go wherever you want. If they don’t like my jeans, they can kiss my ass.” She giggled and walked over, hooking my arm and pulling me. “Let’s go wherever you go.”
I submitted, taking her to my favorite martini bar.
“Holy shit! I can see why you like to come here. The bartender is fucking hot!” She pushed her boobs up in her shirt and sashayed up to the bar.
“I’m Olivia,” she said with an enormous smile.
“Enrique. What can I get for you Olivia?”
She turned to me red faced and mouthed, “oh my fucking god!”
“Hi, Enrique! Two Espresso Martinis please.” I slid my card to him. “Can I run a tab tonight please?”
“Your will, my hand, gorgeous.” He gave his million dollar obligatory smile and put my card by the register.
“You don’t have to do that.” Olivia pouted.
“Come on, you’ve been on unemployment forever and have yet to get your first check. It’s my pleasure. Besides, you haven’t lived until you’ve had one of Enrique’s Espresso Martinis.”
“They’re dangerous, Miss Olivia, caffeine and alcohol. My limit is four. After that, you’ll have to convince a different bartender to serve you.” He slid the cocktails to us.
“Oh my fucking GOD!” Olivia said after a sip. “These are downright fabulous.”
“At twelve bucks a pop they’d better be!” I laughed.
“Holy shit!” She slid the drink away from her. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Yes you can, now drink the damn martini!” I laughed again. The day had gotten to me. I had the giggles.
“Yes ma’am.” She smiled. She had a great smile. I was jealous.
“Don’t let Enrique fool you. He’s sexy as hell but he’s also gay as the day is long.” I sipped at my drink while I watched the disappointed look on her face.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve met his boyfriend. I saw them kissing in the alley one time when I had one too many. He’s still nice to look at.”
“Okay, I’m almost done with my first drink. These are dangerous.”
“Yes they are!” I waved at Enrique for more drinks.
“So,” Olivia said leaning in, “Linda, huh?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“You’re seeing Linda?” She gulped down the last of her glass. “I recognized the paper on your desk. She’s fabulous.”
“You… you’ve seen her?” I was caught between bashing her over the head for being in my office when I wasn’t or begging her for information. Curiosity won over violence.
“Sure have. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
Nearly two minutes of silence went by as I waited for Enrique to deliver our drinks before I started discussing anything. I was relieved when he slid the drinks over with an obligatory wink.
“Okay, spill. What the fuck am I in for?” I asked.
She looked relieved that I spoke again. “Depends on why you’re going to see her.”
Making circles with the bottom of my martini glass, I contemplated how to address this or if it was even appropriate. The non-disclosure did release you to discuss with other patients of Linda’s if patients was even the proper term.
“I’m a little repressed, uneducated, inexperienced and well, frustrated.” I admitted with nearly a whisper.
“Then you’re in the right hands. I would expect that another person would be there. Probably another patient. You’ll get educated on what you like, what you need and how to achieve sexual freedom.”
“So she watches while I have sex with a total stranger?” My eyes must have been the size of Buick hubcaps.
“Yes, but more than that. She talks you through it. She touches you too. Sometimes has you do things to her, to teach you how. It all depends on what you like and what you need.”
“What the fuck!” I slammed my second martini and waved for another round.
“Slow down there tiger. Just because you look like a vixen now, doesn’t mean you’re impervious to bullets or anything.” Enrique’s brow furrowed as he slid a glass of ice water my way while he mixed two more drinks.
“Don’t freak. This is probably why you don’t get a rundown before you go in. But let me tell you, you’ll reach places you never knew imaginable.” Olivia winked. “We’re talking about epic orgasms, the ability to find partners and let your hair down.”
“I could use some of that.”
“I can see that. You’re wound a little tight.”
“Can I trust you to get me home tonight?” I asked.
“Can I sleep on your couch? I mean, I am a heavy drinker and with the two of us I feel safe and confident to get you to your home, but I don’t want to go back out on my own. If I can sleep it off on your couch, go ahead and get drunk as fuck and I’ll get you home. Deal?”
“You’re not a serial killer or anything are you?” I teased.
“I like to bite a little,” she teased back.
“Good. I need to get good and drunk. Too much. It’s all too much at once. I’m freaking the fuck out.”
“Don’t freak out. Linda will take it slow. She’s a professional. Just relax and trust that. I promise. She never hurt me or scared me at all. And now, I can just get my needs fulfilled and move on.”
“So you don’t have a boyfriend?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t do boys anymore, but I do have girlfriends from time to time. The best part is now I know I don’t need a relationship to make me whole.” She giggled and tossed back the drink in her hand. “Sometimes yo
u just need a good fucking.”
My brain was about to melt. She was a lesbian. I didn’t see that. But then again, it wasn’t like I walked around looking for lesbians.
“But you were all hot for Enrique?”
“Oh, I fuck guys from time to time, especially really hot ones. But for the most part, I don’t really like men and I don’t want a relationship with one.”
“So, what does that make you?”
“Smart,” Olivia laughed and waved Enrique over. “Have you ever been not gay?” she asked him.
Clearly the alcohol was taking affect.
“I had a few girlfriends early on. But after my first man, I was changed forever.” He smiled. “Tony is the love of my life. Sorry girl.”
“What was that?” I asked.
“An education for you. Do you see? He had to experiment to get where he is. He is sexy, happy and confident. Not to mention that he’s in love with a lucky bastard named Tony. Linda will help you be as confident as he is. Do you know why Enrique is so fucking hot?”
I looked him over. “Because his hair is impeccable, his skin is flawless and his smile is worth a million bucks?”
“Well, yeah, all that too. But he’s confident. He’s not looking. He ain’t desperate. He gets to go home and get satisfied his way.” She looked around the bar. “I need a fucking cigarette. Will you step outside with me?”
“I need one too.” I’d done really well quitting, except when I drank. I still craved them like a starving person craves food.
Enrique agreed to save our seats while we stepped outside. Outside was cooler, less noisy and the cigarette was the one thing I needed. I took a long drag, closing my eyes and tilting my head back, holding in the first drag. I finally let it out.
“So you’re saying that Linda will help me and not to be afraid. But I have to tell you, I’m terrified.”
Olivia giggled and leaned against the building. “Listen, Candy. I know it’s scary—doing something new like this at our age. I mean we’re in our mid-thirties. But two years ago I was mousy and quiet and all I really needed was to find myself sexually. You’ll find your groove. Don’t sweat it. And if you don’t like Linda’s therapy, you don’t have to continue.”
