therapy chapter 1

never thought it would happen to me. My wife and I have been married for 12 years, and all in all it's been a happy marriage -- at least up until several months ago.

Nothing happened to cause "our problem", as we referred to it -- at least nothing that we could identify. It's just that all of the sudden, I lost my ability to get an erection.

We read books on male sexual dysfunction, and we tried every exercise we could, but nothing seemed to work. A urinolgist pronounced me and my sexual equipment to be in complete working order, so the next step was for me to see a sex therapist.

By this time, my wife was pretty adamant that I seek help, and she even made an appointment for me with a sex therapist in our area. This therapist, a woman as it turned out, had a very good reputation and came highly recommended from several different sources.

I was very scared and nervous when I showed up at my first appointment. The receptionist was an attractive woman in her early twenties, and this made me all the more anxious. It really hurt my male ego for a sexy young lady to know that I was having sexual problems. She was gentle and sensitive, but this didn't do much to help my anxiety. I was convinced that her attitude was one of condescending pity.

After I filled out a few forms, the receptionist pointed out the door to the therapist's office and told me to go inside and sit on the couch. She explained that the therapist would be there shortly. I followed her instructions and sat down where she had indicated. The office was comfortable, and gave me a feeling of well-being. There was only one other seat in the office: a large, overstuffed chair several feet in front of the couch where the doctor would no doubt be sitting.

A minute or two later, the rear door to the office opened up. I wasn't prepared for what happened next: in walked the most gorgeous, sexy woman I had seen in a long time. She was maybe in her mid-thirties, and she exuded sex from every pore. She lithely slithered into the chair in front of me and said in a kind, gentle, professional tone of voice, "Hello. You must be Mark. I'm Stephany."

I was uncomfortable with the attractive receptionist, but I was downright flabbergasted at the sight of this woman. Right then and there I decided that I wasn't going to go through with this. I had expected an older, woman -- someone more like Ruth Westheimer. My male ego couldn't stand to have such a desirable woman know all about my painful problems.

I fidgeted on the couch and tried to figure out a diplomatic way to tell the doctor that I wanted to leave. But before I could say anything, she smiled and spoke to me again in that same reassuring tone of voice: "I can see that you're quite nervous, Mark. And I think I can guess why. You seem surprised and uncomfortable that I'm so young."

She gave me a look that seemed to say, "... and so beautiful."

"Well ... yes, I guess I have to admit that I ... well, I expected someone older and more ... um ..."

"And more experienced?" she offered.

I blushed. "Well, please forgive me, but ... well, to be honest, I have to admit that's just what I was thinking. I guess I was expecting someone more like ... well, more like Ruth Westheimer or something," I chuckled nervously.

She smiled calmly and said, "That's understandable, and I'm not the slightest bit offended, I assure you. You'd be surprised at how many of my clients expect Dr. Ruth." She then added, "But I also want to assure you that I'm _very_ experienced."

She gave me a look that almost appeared to be a sultry, flirty gaze, but I just assumed that this was in my imagination.

She told me that my wife had informed her about "what you think is a dysfunction," as she put it, and that she has a very high success rate with men like me. She went on to explain the way she works: she recommended I see her once or preferably twice a week. After a few weeks of her familiarizing herself with my situation, she would begin the "program", as she called it. After asking me a few embarrassing questions about my problem, she gave me some literature for my wife and me to read, and she told me to schedule an appointment for later in the week.

I almost told her I didn't want to continue, but something about her manner made me feel that I should. She seemed competent and sure of herself, and when she looked at me and spoke to me, I got a strange feeling that she understood me in a way that no one ever has.

So I decided to give her a try -- at least for a few weeks -- and I scheduled my next appointment with the receptionist.