“Good morning, Penny.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Davenport.” She usually called me Regina, but I believe her discovery of me in a state of near orgasm must have shocked her into more formality.
“I am surprised to see you so early.”
“My apologies. I wanted to get in early and prepare for the day.”
“Very good. I just didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’ll try to be louder next time,” she offered.
“Good idea,” I added.
“We have a new appointment today. That was the reason I was coming to see you. New client. Will be here at 11:30 AM.” She handed me the tablet that contained the appointments for the day. This appointment hadn’t made my calendar yet.
“Very good. That will keep my mind off of other things,” I said as my cheeks reddened. I handed the tablet back to Penny.
She exited the office, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I would just have to go through the day without the relief of an orgasm.
My day was off to a wonderful start.
* * *
My first two appointments went well. Both comprised an easy hour of checking in, reporting on progress and wins, and then wrapping up with next steps. Paperwork for both was fairly straightforward. Both had made significant progress.
Alicia, a rape survivor who had worked with me for three years, had great news to report. She and her husband had experienced some breakthroughs on the intimacy front and things had been going well for the last three weeks. So well, in fact, that she was pregnant. My work with her wasn’t quite finished, but she felt really confident that we were near the end of a long journey. Her type of case, while not the most financially rewarding, was the most emotionally rewarding for me.
Jacob, a young man with very wealthy parents, had experienced some erectile dysfunction when he was with girls. As an older man, that’s to be expected, but with a twenty-three-year-old, it usually points to other more emotional issues.
He had been masturbating to porn two to three times a day for over a year when he first started seeing me. He could not perform when he met a girl on Tinder. The hookup culture he found himself in put a lot of pressure on him to both talk big to get a girl to meet, but then be able to deliver when they met. He had some family issues going on as well, which contributed to his insecurities.
He had now gone six months without watching porn and had cut down on masturbation. We’d worked through a lot of the family issues and pressures as well and he had been doing much better. He and I decided he was ready to work with a surrogate and we set him up with an appointment with Chastity the next week.
I explained to him that this wasn’t like a hookup. It would be structured time with her, and he’d have to focus on being present with her and paying attention to his body. That didn’t seem to dissuade him in the least.
People often have misconceptions about sex therapy and surrogacy. Sexual issues are often some of the most deep-seated issues a person can deal with, so the work can be very intense and it really takes a lot of bravery and openness on a patient’s part to get the benefit. Some of the wealthy and famous patients of mine don’t really get that. At first.
Once they finally realize I can help them, that it’s going to take work, and they decide they want my help, then we can get down to business.
My afternoon client is one of those. He’d already had five failed relationships by the time he was thirty-three. Fortunately, only one of those, the first, was a marriage and there had been no kids involved. He took two years and after the last two failed relationships; he decided to do the work. His progress was erratic though, so I never knew who would show up in my office for our appointment.
I leaned back in my chair as I finished the admin work for Jacob. The only sound in my office came from the water dribbling softly over the rock surface of the fountain. My mind wandered to Mr. Dark Eyes again, and that tingling feeling between my legs bubbled up like the water in the fountain.
I couldn’t help but cup myself as I took in a deep breath. I hadn’t had sex in about three months before my amateur night performance in the Cherry Pit. Rather than quench any desire that might have been building until that night, I had been abstinent after my last meeting with my firefighter friend.
My time with Mr. Dark Eyes and its memories seemed to have lit a fire in my loins. I so wanted to scratch that itch, but I didn’t want to get caught with my feet up in the air again.
The clock showed 11:15 AM. I double-checked my calendar. My next appointment started at 1:00 PM. Thirty minutes used to be enough time for me to reach an orgasm, but I had to admit I didn’t always follow my own advice.
My clitoris had become a little desensitized because of the constant use of my vibrator. I used it daily as part of my early morning routine or at night before settling down for bed. I had no desire to be beholden to a man to provide my orgasms.
Besides, Ass-Hat had never been good at pleasing me. He could last a good ten minutes, but it was so mechanical for him. Any time I tried to bring up my needs or my sexual expertise, he just blew it off as mumbo-jumbo.
I knew from experience that a woman’s orgasm came with no timetable, but I didn’t seem to think that applied to me. Perhaps it was part of the aging process. All I knew for sure was that I could get off in ten minutes in my twenties, and now it always seemed to take longer than thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was hard to fit in to a professional LA women’s schedule.
So, over time, it took me longer and longer to orgasm and required more and more stimulation. I didn’t think I’d ever have a quick orgasm again.
Until Mr. Dark Eyes and my lovely amateur night performance at My Cherry Pie Gentleman’s Club.
