DREAM JOB – SEX THERAPIST
I was sharing tidbits of my newest book with my writing partner the other day and I told him the hero of the novel was a sex therapist. Now, this isn’t the same as a sexual surrogate (I shall enjoy explaining that difference in just a moment) but it does deal with helping people cope with intimacy issues of all types and variations. His thought was – “Where do I sign up?” It sure beats the heck out of many other kinds of work that you can think of.
Can you imagine what a sex therapist would hear? One repeating theme would be cock size. So many men feel inadequate. Everyone wants to be bigger. They want to please their woman. They want to fill out their jeans, they want to have something to brag about.
Let me tell you something funny. I have this guy friend back home that has a tremendous ego. And I can’t vouch for sure, but I’m told he is more than adequately endowed, a little over 7 inches, which I think is ample – haha!. But he wanted to be ‘optimum’, so he ordered an ANDRO PENIS EXTENDER, which he showed me. It’s basically a torture device that a man wears that stretches his penis a little bit at a time. He wears it so many hours a day and a little bit longer the next day and extends a little bit more and more and more – -OUCH!!!! He was shooting for an extra half inch! What does the Bible say that we can’t add even one inch to our height – I’m sure penis length was included in that ruling – ha!
As the story goes on – my friend – who is a really good looking man, tried to carry on with his life wearing this Spanish Inquisition Device. He had to wear loose athletic pants because his jeans would not accommodate the – extra ‘hardwear’. But the funniest part was the way he walked. Now you really couldn’t see anything, but he walked around like he had a corncob up his bottom or his legs were chapped. No one else knew what was wrong with him, but I did. And I laughed everytime we were together. I’d say – ‘Is it worth it?’ And he’d laugh and say, “Yes!” and make this gesture to show me how well hung he was going to be.
Well, he suffered through it for several months I’ll have to give him that. And I was hoping that he could make it through the process without causing nerve damage to his manhood – but he finally hung up his Andro penis and just went with what God gave him, which (as I understand- ha!) was ample.
But if a man were truly desperate, I’m sure that the possibility of increasing his penis size would be amazing. There are many things a sex therapist can help a client with – premature ejaculation, erectile dysfunction (I feel so smart and clinical saying these big words) and the inability to reach orgasm which is usually a female problem.
Another facet of sexual therapy is sexual surrogacy and that is an amazing idea to me. To think that a service exists that can allow a person who thinks he has no hope to experience intimacy and sexual pleasure to do so, gives me chills. I’ve tried to put myself in the position of having never touched another for pleasure or been touched. I’ve imagined how a man or woman might feel who has never known sex or feels they might never have the hope of know what it’s like. Polio victims. Paralysis victims. And there are others situations, those that have been through trauma or rape. Regardless it is a service of hope unlike any other.
In Finding Dandi, Lucas Dane Wagner is a sexual therapist. He is the one who helped Harley in Burning Love. He knows sex. He’s good at sex. He loves sex. But when faced with the one that excites him like no other, he becomes like any other man – hopelessly at her mercy. I enjoyed taking this guy who thought he knew exactly where he was headed and turn him upside down by a curvy little dancer. It should be a wild ride.
Here’s an excerpt
Meet Lucas Dane Wagner
Lucas at Work
“I am here to help you, Lana. There is no reason you can’t enjoy your sex life.” Leaning back in his leather chair, he studied the pretty blonde woman sitting in front of him, folding and refolding the hem of her skirt. She was so nervous; there was no need to be.
“My husband is getting very put out with me. I love his touch, but it’s a vicious circle. The harder I try to please him, the more frustrated I become. He wants me to have an orgasm, and I just can’t. I’m so afraid he’s going to divorce me.” She began to cry.
This was a sad story Lucas had heard too often. Couples would experience one setback, maybe premature ejaculation or a failure to climax. This disappointment would lead to another episode, and soon the expectation to fail would spiral out of control. “Lana, your husband loves you. He told me so. Let’s get him in here, I have some suggestions for you both that I think will help, I promise.”
He pressed the call button for his secretary and asked her to send Gary Peters in to join his wife. In a few seconds the tall, sandy-haired male came in, looking extremely uncomfortable. No matter how advanced or progressive society became, people always hesitated to discuss or confess their sexual short-comings. Especially men. “Sit, please.” He motioned toward the other large wing-back chair in front of his desk.
Lucas loved sex – he craved it. Bringing a woman to orgasm was the crowning joy in his life. His chosen field of work was meant to help other people learn the satisfaction and fulfillment that only sexual intimacy can bring.
“Hi, Honey,” Lana touched her husband’s hand. He smiled back. Lucas smiled, too. He could help these people.
“Okay, I want to set your minds at ease. We can fix this. You two are very fortunate. There is an abundance of love and desire in your relationship, all we have to do is get you to relax and let it happen.”
“We try . . .” Lana began, but Lucas held up his hand.
“This is what I want you to do tonight.” They both looked at him, anxiously. “I want you to have a relaxing dinner and remind yourself why you fell in love. Laugh together, remember your wedding, or the first time you met. Hold hands on the couch. Gary, give your wife a back rub. Treat one another with respect and flirt a little bit.”
“That doesn’t sound too hard, but will it work?” Lana cut her eyes at her husband, as if asking him to back up her concern. Unfortunately, most people wanted him to prescribe a pill for what ailed them instead of admitting that the problem was one that required a change in behavior or attitude.
“I’m not finished,” he assured them. “When you get ready to go to bed, I want you to try this – Gary you sit up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Spread your legs and let Lana sit in between them with her back against your front.” He knew the more specific his instructions, the more inclined they would be to follow them.
“What?” Lana flushed pink and put her hands over her warm cheeks.
“It’s okay, Darling,” Gary touched her arm. “We need to try.”
“I know, I’m just embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” Lucas sympathized. “This is a common problem, and what I’m asking you to do will work. Gary, Lana’s only role during this exercise is to feel pleasure. And your only role is to give pleasure.” He smiled at the young couple. “Of course, Gary is a man, Lana. Giving you pleasure is going to be a bigger turn-on than anything he has ever experienced.”
“God, that sounds good,” Gary groaned and Lana blushed anew.
Lucas continued with his directions. “While Lana is relaxing against you, Gary, what I want you to do, is to begin to touch her. Rub her shoulders and arms. Kiss her neck, put your hands on her breasts and massage them. Take her nipples between your fingers and play with them.”
“Hell,” Gary groaned. Even Lana leaned forward, hanging on his every word.
“Lana, you turn your head and seek his lips. If something feels good, let him know. Whimpers and moans of pleasure, compliments to one another – all of these things will fuel your desire.”
“Sounds like it.” Gary agreed.
“When Lana is unable to be still in your arms, you’ll know she is aroused. Slip your hand between her legs and massage her vulva. Rub her clit around and around – don’t worry about trying to penetrate her, just focus on making her feel wonderful.” He left it there. If it worked like he thought it would, Lana would be brought to orgasm and beg her husband to make love to her.
“We’ll try it now!” Gary stood up and held out his hand. He was anxious to get home, and from the bloom in Lana’s cheeks – she was anxious to join him. Lucas watched them leave, wishing he had someone waiting at home for him. One day, one day he would.
Pushing up from his chair, he went to the window and looked out at the bustling scene. The view from his office was downtown Little Rock. From where he stood, he could see a panorama of the city – the Clinton Presidential Library, the River Market District and the scenic Arkansas River. The whole area was a happening place full of trendy restaurants, museums, art galleries and expensive boutiques. This town had been good to him, but it was almost time to move on. After graduating from Tulane University in New Orleans, he had performed his residency here at the illustrious Anderson Clinic, renowned for its groundbreaking work in psychiatric care and intimacy issues. But his residency was over. It was time for him to make his mark in the world.
Lucas was pleased with his progress. So far, his life was on schedule. He had many people to thank for that, one man in particular – Dr. Fredrich Solomon. Dr. Solomon had been his favorite professor, and soon would be his business associate, hopefully. If the creek didn’t rise and hell didn’t freeze over, everything was on track for him to be offered a partnership. The only thing holding it up was his meeting with the board on Valentine’s Day, just over two weeks away. They were so impressed with him that they were flying in from various parts of the country to interview him here in Little Rock. Not many young doctors were afforded such an honor.
Dr. Solomon had been his mentor and his inspiration. Lucas had tried to live his life based on his wise friend’s words and example. One lecture had really hit home. “Most people are complicated. They war with themselves. Their hearts and minds are torn in two different directions. Some struggle with who they are and who they wish they were. Others battle disappointment in what they have become and who they used to be. Very few people are simple and straight forward. We all harbor natures we have to tame or tendencies we have to control. I am not necessarily speaking of something as radical as a Jekyll/Hyde syndrome; I’m speaking of the ordinary, everyday task of being the master of our fate and the captain of our soul. Only you can decide who you are and what you want to accomplish in this world. Only you can conquer your demons and move forward in the direction you wish to go.”
He had agreed with every word his mentor said, for he was two people. The first Lucas was the dedicated, determined doctor-to-be. His dream was to be a viable, needed part of a community where he could hold his head up and walk among his neighbors, peers and patients knowing that he was someone they could respect and depend upon.
Turning from the window, he walked to the coffeepot, pouring himself a strong cup of rich brew. The second Lucas was more complicated, he was vulnerable. A scene from his childhood raised its ugly head. “Keep your filthy hands off of me,” his mother had screamed at his poor father. “I’ll go where I please, with whom I please. I’ll sleep where I want to and with who I want to, and you and this worrisome brat can like it or lump it.”
Lucas had neither liked it nor lumped it; he had suffered through it and vowed before God in heaven that his life would be different.
Everyone’s past molds their future. Lucas was no different. Returning to his desk, he opened a drawer, and took out a worn picture of himself and his parents. It was not a formal portrait; there had never been money or opportunity for his small family to visit a real photographer. This casual shot had been taken by his grandmother one Christmas. The man and the woman who tried to smile for the camera only managed to look miserable; and he, sitting between them, had known how unhappy they were. Children always knew. In this photo, he had been seven years old.
Lucas threw the image down on his desk. Memories of coming home to an empty house every day came flooding back. There would be nothing to eat in the refrigerator except ketchup and bread, and he’d have to pick up the liquor bottles and dirty dishes off the kitchen table so he’d have a place to eat his meal and do his homework.
He remembered the arguments and the fights his parents had. He remembered the neighbors standing on their porches to listen and watch the spectacle of Della and Wayne Wagner as they hurled insults and accusations at one another. Sometimes their battles would be played out in the front yard. When they had warred with one another, they hadn’t cared who heard or how their child was affected. Sadly, the accusations they threw at one another were true. His mother was blatantly unfaithful to her husband and his father drank himself to death because of it.
She hadn’t even tried to hide her infidelity, strange men would bring her home night after night and several times he and his dad would be called to come pick her up from strip clubs or bars when she would be stranded and drunk, too broke to call a cab home.
Lucas had survived. He had even thrived, but he had made the decision early that his life would be different. Respectability, stability and tradition would define his world. Never would he allow a child of his to wonder when his mother was coming home or have to defend her reputation to his friends or classmates. His family would be cherished and adored. To make that happen, Lucas intended to marry the perfect woman – a woman who would put home and hearth above all else, a woman with high morals, whose greatest ambition in life was to make a haven for him and their children.
“Lucas, your three o’clock is here.” The voice over the intercom was welcome. He enjoyed his job. In a few moments, he was joined by a young man seeking his help for inadequacy issues, and he was determined to give it.
website – – http://sablehunter.com/
facebook page – https://www.facebook.com/authorsablehunter?ref=hl
My hometown will always be New Orleans. I love the culture of Louisiana and it permeates everything I do. Now, I live in the big state of Texas and like most southern women, I love to cook southern food – especially Cajun and Tex-Mex. I also love to research the supernatural, but don’t tell anyone.
I love intimacy and my favorite erogenous zones are my nipples and the nape of my neck. One of my fantasies is to have my beloved rub an orchid lightly over every part of my body. Hope that’s not too much information – although, I do enjoy giving you ideas. . . . .
About my writing – As most of you know, I write erotic romance. I write what I like to read and enjoy putting my fantasies on paper. My stories are emotional reads where the heroine is faced with challenges; like one of my favorite songs – she’s holding out for a hero – and boy, can I deliver a hero. One of the best compliments that I ever received from a reader was that I write ‘luscious sex’ – my aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and sweat. If I can wring those emotions out of a reader, then I have done my job.
So, please join me in my world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy, to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of my heroines and escape to places where dreams can come true and orgasms only come in multiples.