Sex Therapist

Sex Therapist is my first erotic novella. It is a work in progress. I'm excited to say it's closer to completion than I ever imagined!! Because all of my post are excerpts and excessive details are left out I've posted this page to make it easier to follow the story line. Most of the excerpts posted have been added to this page. Also, I want to make it easier for people who want to review previous posts. Enjoy and Happy Reading!

The stigma associated with self-pleasure has long been an attempt to sway our self-interest and ultimate gratification. Even before conception we are drawn to the intense stimulation of masturbation. In the womb, males and females alike are drawn to the pleasures associated with a delicate rubbing or pressing of the genitals.

The vast majority of us explore our sexual desires as teenagers, quickly learning the power of touch and sound. A moan can excites us, while a touch can bring us to near orgasm. We tell ourselves there just isn’t enough time on Earth to explore what we have uncovered. And truth be told, there isn’t.

Only recently has the topic been widely open to discussion, but still many quiet the subject or avoid it all together. Countries have united to encourage masturbation, stating it is a citizen right and it will not be shunned or denied. Even so much as rallying for teenagers to engage in masturbation daily.

We people have progressed so far ahead, becoming so intellectualized we forget our basic needs. The need to orgasm.

I am an advocate for healthy sexual expression not because it is my field of work, but because the sentiment is one I truly believe. It is what makes me the best damn sex therapist in the Los Angeles area. My clients travel near and far, seeking direction and restoration of their sexless marriages.

What the court documents won’t tell you are those “irreconcilable differences” are simply a guise for “he can’t get it up” or “she’s drier than barren wasteland”.

My clients are teetering on the brinks of insanity. That is before they pick up the phone and call my office.

There are no boundaries; there are no exceptions to my job. Excluding of course the obvious, I don’t sleep with my clients. Despite requests from both men and women, it is one of my ultimate rules.  Clients who apprehensively voiced their request were newly acquired clients who thought that by bringing an additional woman in their bedroom their sex life could be restored. They were naïve and ill-informed, poor things. That misconception would be mistake number one.

Bringing a third person in your bedroom only intermittently satisfies the desires of two lovers. It is only passable to bring a third person if the relationship is solid and the sexual desires of both are abundant and fulfilled. Open relationships which have this understanding work exceptionally, however, this is rare. Most people don’t like to share.

Personally, I don’t mind it one bit.

As I pulled up to my office I observed the brightly colored Honda sedan parked in the front lot. Maria, my customer relations associate, had already arrived. Impressive. She wasn’t required to be here for another hour.

Only recently hired last week, she had already began making her imprint on me as well as my staff. She was timely and organized, but most importantly she was charismatic. She had a way with words and she made my clients feel at ease throughout their screening. The last thing they needed was to be interrogated, but the information was needed to better determine if I could help them.

Entering the building, I greeted my receptionist Alisa and proceeded towards my office. Three doors shy of my destination, Maria nearly sent my coffee airborne as she exited the mailroom and ran straight in to me.

“Ms. Kelly,” she stated unnerved, “I apologize. I didn’t see you.”

                “It’s fine,” I reassured.

                “After you,” she motioned.

While her left hand completed the forward gesture her other did something I didn’t expect. As I nodded and stepped forward she placed a hand on my lower back. Correction. It wasn’t my lower back at all, I was extenuating the offense. She touched my ass!

Back in my office, I returned to my article when again I was interrupted.

                “Ms. Kelly,” the voice was becoming undeniably sweet to my ears despite my irritation. The light accent stirred me against my will and brought a slight pulsation between my thighs.

                “Yes?” I replied.

                Maria stepped in my office and continued, “I wanted to speak with you about your 10AM appointment.”

                Motioning her to an open chair I encouraged, “I’m listening.”

                Taking a seat she said, “I know I said that they were a likely candidate and I still believe you can assist them, but I did more research on their case. It seems that the husband, Mr. Ross, had an affair with his secretary about two years ago.”

                I chided, “How could you have missed that Maria?”

                She defended, “As I said, I don’t believe that will negate your ability to help them.  They have seen a marriage counselor and I believe that their troubles are beyond that breach of distrust.”

                Diverting my attention back to the article and away from Maria, I closed the conversation with an indifferent, “Thank you for that information. Will that be all?”

                She failed to respond to my question and the silence was unsettling. Logic reassured me that Maria still remained occupied in the chair across from me but the stillness compelled me to confirm she didn’t mysteriously disappear.

She had waited for me to look up, so that she could speak.

When I looked up, she acknowledged me attentively. She spoke passionately, “Ms. Kelly, have you not felt an attraction so intense that it made you forget logic and reason. While your mind rejects the polluted thought, your body yearns for a touch, a kiss, a stroke from the object of your desire. You feel the pulsation between your thighs when they walk by or the stimulation of your clitoris when they speak. Have you ever felt that tug of sexual longing?” She paused.

Breaking eye contact she fished her thoughts while regarding the coffee cup which stood between us.

                She gnawed at the plumpness of her bottom before she returned her stare towards me and continued, “Mr. Ross gave into temptation and he paid the price. But he’s trying to make amends now to salvage his marriage. They’ve followed all the necessary steps, you are the final phase.”

                The intensity of her brown eyes spoke volume and she defended Mr. Ross with loyalty.

                Though I knew her defense carried subliminal meaning, I replied thoughtful, “I will consider your evaluation.”

The evening neared to an exhausting close as I filed new patient correspondence. I had long abandoned my heels and stood with my weight shifted to my left hip as I organized.  I sighed observing the stacked pile of paperwork on my desk. I had delayed this process too long and now it would be a very long night.

Alisa poked her head in my office and yelled, “Goodnight Ms. Kelly.”

I turned unbalanced and echoed a goodnight as she retreated. She offered to stay later than the two hours she’d already committed, but I insisted she go home. The mess was mine to clean, by result of pure avoidance and procrastination.

I needed a minute to relax my feet, they ached from the constant walking throughout the day and prolonged standing as I organized. I stepped under my office doorframe and yelled, “Hello?”

I waited patiently for a response. Again, I questioned, “Hello.”

Still no one answered.

The coast was clear, I could rest awhile. Sitting in my burgundy leather office chair, I propped my feet atop the desk and reclined. Relaxed and rested I hummed to myself as my thoughts trailed.

Recalling the unpleasant memory of Keith, I searched for happier thoughts and I was surprised at my unconscious selection. Maria. Images of the way she bit her lips teased me. Further enticing was the way her skin felt on mine. She radiated warmth which traveled down between my thighs and caused my clit to throb. Beating like that of a heart, it pulsated aching for me to sooth the sensation.

Soon the tips of my fingers tugged against the button and zipper of my pants. They burrowed underneath my cotton laced thong. The sound of Maria’s voice saying my name made me lick my lips. The warmth between my legs excited me, but when I parted the labia shielding my inner treasure the moisture delivered me to new heights.

Extending my index finger I stroked the summit of my erection before descending deeper into the pool of liberation which saturated my inner thighs. Returning to my summit, I circle its peak. Firmly I pushed against it, stroking the sides and sliding from its top, down to the puddle below and ascending back to its top. I repeated the motion firmer and faster until my breathing paced and my moans escaped.

Heat engulfed me and is I started to orgasm a voice echoed through the hallway.

A shadow neared my office and I rushed to fasten my clothes before their arrival. Entering my office Maria said, “Ms. Kelly I-”

She paused and stared at me curiously. Sidetracked from her intended conversation she questioned, “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” I lied. “Just a little startled, I thought everyone had left for the evening.”

                “Oh?” She pondered. “Well, I’m just finishing up these documents and wanted to review them with you before I add them to our records.”

                “I’m sure they’re fine,” I replied.

                She nodded, “Sure. Okay,” and turned to exit into the narrow hallway. Sensing my uneasiness she turned to regard me once more, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

                “Absolutely,” I smiled.

She returned the expression and added, “Your hair.”

                “My hair?” I questioned.

                She pointed, “It’s sticking up.”

To say that I was slightly discomforted as I parked my drop top convertible would have been severely understated. Vexed by my erotic exhibition the day before, I attempted to regain composure with a healthy dose of meditation. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I inhaled tranquil thoughts, while exhaling my shame.
The recollection was surreal, yet I was confident Maria witnessed my sensual display yesterday.
Looking in my rearview mirror, I noted the bright Honda. She was prompt, just as she had been the entire week.
When I entered my establishment I was immediately greeted by both Alisa and Maria. The fact that I had never once seen them take an interest in each other caught my attention. Alisa occupied her space behind the desk, while Maria leaned casually against it. They both regarded me as I entered.
                “Good Morning,” they harmonized.
                “Morning,” I replied.

To two looked like teenage girls hiding a secret from their mom. The constant glances to the other spoiled their underground intentions.

My expression was one of urgency when Maria took the lead and spoke.
                “The two of us were going to go to the new restaurant on Stevens Creek Boulevard, would you care to join?” The alacrity of her tone was obscure. For reasons I couldn’t identify, despite the directness of the invitation, the tone and uneven smile which permeated at the seam was mischievous.
I replied dubiously, “Maybe. Let me check my schedule.”

Her skeptic grin didn’t waver as she responded, “Well, that’s kind of what we were discussing. Making sure everyone’s schedule coalesced. We were sure to pick a time complimentary to all of our schedules.”

                “Oh?” I deliberated. “Well then, I don’t see why not.”

Clearly pleased with my response she buoyantly ambled to her office three doors down the narrow hallway.

My puzzlement spilled with more judgment than intended when I asked Alisa, “What’s she so happy about?”

                She shrugged identically compressed by her energy, “I have no idea.”

The hours passed slower than usual, but the workload proved constant and heavy. Between two client appointments, the filing that I had avoided the night before and the constant flood of inquiries from both employees and clientele, five hours passed sooner than I had expected. I hadn’t seen Maria since that morning and part of me wondered if our lunch was still intended.

I telephoned the front desk, “Alisa, have you gone to lunch yet?”

                “No, Ms. Kelly,” she replied. “It isn’t yet noon and we’re going together, right?”

                “Yes, yes.” I assured, “I know it isn’t 12, but I just wanted to be sure the time was set.”

                “Oh yes, the time is set unequivocally at noon.”

Despite the fifteen minutes to spare, when I hung up I powered down my laptop and searched for my iPhone. Five missed calls and three texts were all that awaited me, a relief considering the morning I’d had. I was actually relieved to have a moment outside of the office and looked forward to the impromptu lunch date. After grabbing my purse and blazer I was off to lunch with the girls.

Passing by Maria’s office, I was surprised to see that she was less aware of the time than I was. I tapped a polite knock on the door and she spilled in to apologies, “Ms. Kelly, I’m sorry. I really need to get this done. Jim in marketing wanted me to gather some testimonials to place on the website and I have all these submissions and I’ve only made it through half since yesterday…”

She apologized once more and exactly at the moment I knew it was coming she said, “You two go without me. I’ll try and catch up and if not I’ll find some way to make it up to you guys. I’m sorry.”

                Lessening the disappointment I said, “Not a problem. Sometimes things happen that we can’t anticipate.”

                I was set on returning to my desk and settling for the chips I had stowed in my desk, but Alisa caught me as I exited Maria’s office.

                “You ready?” She asked.

                Smiling I replied, “Sure am.”

I typically only engaged in business meetings, anything other than that had a tendency to spill in to my personal life. It was my firm belief that coworkers who invited other coworkers to lunch only wanted to gather information on how they conduct their private affairs. They pounced on the opportunity to gather information, no matter how minimal, so that they could spread toxic truths.

I expected the conversation to be light and awkward. A long hour of artificial smiles and dull conversation, yet it was not.

Alisa worked as my receptionist from day one of my practice launch, nearly two years ago and it was quickly brought to my attention how little I knew about her. I don’t mean in an invasive, tell me your business way, but on a surface level.

In addition to putting in ample hours at my practice she also mentored young girls and boys at a nonprofit lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender organization outside the city. Her golden tone emitted a profound glow when she spoke of them, almost as though they were her own children.

She was originally from Texas, but moved here for school six years ago and never left. She finished her degree a year ago which prompted me to ask, “You have your degree? Why are you still working at the practice?”

It was only after I voiced the question that I realized the mistake in asking. I’m her boss, why would she tell me the truth?

                Her hazel eyes met mine when she replied, “Well, to be honest Ms. Kelly. I like working for you. You trust me and I trust you. You gave me a key to the office my first month here, you trust that I’ll do my job and I trust you’ll keep me until I decide it’s best to pursue other opportunities. You’re a good boss, I have no intentions on leaving.”

                My smile stretched to my temples, “You know, I’ve wanted to get involved with some community work –“

                She interrupted my spoken thoughts as she beamed, broadcasting the cutest dimple, “Ms. Kelly you have to come with me one day! Those kids need a voice like you…”

                Thankful for the compliment, my conscious focused on an element more pressing. Cute dimple?, I thought. My analysis disturbed me. I had not once considered anything about Alisa the least bit attractive. Not to abate her beauty, but the opinion of her attractiveness alarmed me. It forced me to consider my attraction to her, however minimal.

                I agreed, “I will. Sometime soon.”

She continued speaking about the teenagers she counseled and the hardships they faced, being rejected by family and society. I pretended to follow, but I still combed through my thoughts.

                 As her lips coiled over her words, I realized I was overreacting. It is beyond possible to find someone attractive and not lust for them. Alisa was beautiful, equipped with all the physicality’s needed to satiate anyone's sexual desires. I regarded her as attractive, beautiful, yet I craved the touch of another. The realization pulled at the edges of my smile. I craved another woman, I craved Maria. 

When the check came I insisted on paying the bill, but in many respects whether I paid or she paid, the funding was still coming from my bank account somewhere in the hierarchy.