Therapy at its finest (CLOSED)

Emma chewed on her pen cap again while staring at her planner. She watched out of the corner of her eye as a man in the waiting room with her played with his phone. She hoped he hadn't noticed she had yet to write anything down yet. She checked the clock. 11.55 just 5 more minutes and it would be time for her appointment.

She gave up trying to write and threw the pen in her purse. It didn't match her current outfit. She had work out gear on a skin tight tank top and yoga pants. She crossed her legs and dangled her feet as she fidgeted in her work out gear. She was tiny 5'4 and just over 115 small breasted but a lean frame with strong muscular legs and back side. She took an hr and a half lunch every day at work. Before deciding to go to therapy she was working out nearly 6 days a week. Working out seemed to be the only thing keeping her libido in check.

Then, just like everything else in her life, it got ruined by sex. She had slept with a beautiful red head in her spin class, tiffany, and tiffany wasn't getting the hint that Emma was done with her. Emma rarely played with woman but red hair was new.... and Emma loved new things.

Half the time Emma couldn't figure out if she was addicted to sex or just adrenaline in general. She had set up a therapy appointment after Tiffany had become stalkerish and had shown up at her law firm. So far Emma had been able to keep her sexual addiction from impeding on her work. Minus a judge...... and that court reporter...... and the security guard.

The sudden realization of how many coworkers she had slept with hit Emma hard. She let out a slight groan. She tied her dirty blond hair back into a pony tail and stared at the door willing her therapist to come out. She had never shared her secrets with anyone but she knew it was long past time to get help and willed him to be on time.

55 minute's, twice a week, was his recommendation when she said she was a sex addict. She was surprised it would be that often he said it could be more or less but that they would discuss it further. Emma closed her eyes thinking about Tiffany screaming her love for her in their lobby. With Emma's fucked up life she'd be stunned if he didn't request they meet even more often.

OOC: Dr. Ronald Benton, licensed therapist, specializing in sexual dysfunction, 51, single (well, divorced for 10 years after finding his wife in the family pool with their neighbor, not just chatting over the back fence). Has developed a busy practice in the city; his devotion to developing the practice was a contributing factor in his wife feeling ignored.

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Picking up the phone and getting the attention of his executive assistant, "Please send Emma in; I have all the info I need for the appointment."

Standing up and walking around mu desk, my usual approach to patients, hopefully breaking thru some of the attention the comes with a first appointment with the "sex doctor", my usual title in rumor circles.

"Good afternoon, Emma. Please have a seat over here (indicating a pair of comfortable chairs in a corner of my office). I prefer to sit here rather than having that big desk between us."

As you walk toward the chair, I take a physical inventory; she is short, tiny, and obviously works out regularly, a fact I glean from her tight body and her attire for the appointment.

"Before we get started, I do have a form for each of us to sign. Since you work for a law firm, I assume you will want to read the form; basically, it says that anything you share with me will be held in the strictest confidence, and will not be shared with anyone, not even my colleagues, without your permission."

Giving you a couple of minutes to look over the form, you hand two signed copies to me; I sign one and return it to you.

"Would you like water, coffee, anything before we begin?"

I'm thrown off how formal everything feels. I barely read what's handed to me. I know I have no legal standing with this guy. I know its his integrity at stake if he starts blabbing my secrets. His word against mine in court, I like my odds. I catch him giving me a quick once over and I regret not having my heels, I hate being so short.

I sit where he gestures me to and I keep my back straight and stiff. I motion to my work out clothes "My coworkers think I'm working out. I appreciate the discretion I don't want anyone knowing i'm in therapy let alone with the." I pause giving my air quotes "Sex Doctor."

I give a weak smile and mull over what to say next. "No water or anything, thank you." I study the room feeling anxious. "I know couples come to you for help because their sex life sucks but how many people come to you because they cant stop having sex."

My voice catches in my throat. I've never said that out loud before. I manage to look at Ronald "Sex is destroying my life Dr. Benton." I swallow realizing it really was and I stare him down almost daring him to laugh at me. I feel like I might cry but I remain composed hoping he will know how to start the session better then me.

"Emma, you might be surprised at the number of my patients who need help with this issue, particularly couples where one of the partners is more demanding than the other can provide; they want a solution, other than divorce. Although most people would think this as a male-only issue, there are a number of females whom I see."

Taking a breath before proceeding, "As you probably expect, I will be taking some notes as we talk; my notes are only to help me with suggestions as we go forward. Primarily, at least at the outset, I am here to listen, to hear your story, why you feel there is an issue . . . and then I will respond with my thoughts . . . possible solutions."

Emma has already broken the ice; she feels she is having too much sex . . . need her to get to the point of admitting that this is probably an addiction. "I don't really have any idea of where you should start, so I'm just going to listen and have you tell me why you are here and what think you need help with."

I listen and nod as he writes. He could write a book for all I care if it helps me. "Tiffany." I smirk thinking about the limber soccer mom "she was sort of the straw that broke the camel's bad." I pause waving my hands "I'm not gay. I mean I am. I mean I'm openly bi sexual so it's not like I'm here to see you because I'm ashamed."


I blow my breath out after my mini tangent "I'm sorry it's just not really something I talk about. It's just something I do." I stare at my perfectly manicured fingers and sigh "she was fun, it wasn't the sex that was the problem. The sex is always fun. It's after that's the problem it's when they want to connect or do something other then sex. She's a mom for God sake I figured it was just fun then she'd go back to making cookies!"

I realize I'm getting flustered as my hands flail about so I sit on them and slow my speech "we slept together and I ended it after a few times and she didn't like it. She showed up at my work." I give a half shrug then mess with imaginary dust on my pants " I made a joke with my coworkers. Something like, don't you hate when that happens."

I wince and wrap my arms around myself "they looked at me like I was crazy. Like that wasn't an ok thing. It's not like I can control other people's emotions!" I half mumble "I guess I'm here because what I thought was normal might not be so normal.....or healthy.

Needing to let you talk, but still need to 'dig' inside you a bit for more info. "Emma, let's just focus on your interactions with Tiffany today. Tell me about it. How did it start? How long did it last? Tell me exactly what happened . . . and where it all took place. If I am going to be able to help you, and to offer suggestions, the more information I have , , , the better."

Being a therapist with a degree in counselling, I have, obviously, an ability to read people, at least to a certain extent . . . and right now, I get the distinct impression that you really want to talk about your addiction, even if you haven't used that word yet.

I need to be able to determine if you want help with you issue, or if you get an inner thrill, almost an orgasm, from sharing the details of your sexual activities. Only time will tell.