Victoria Ricco forged a brilliant academic career, achieving a highly regarded international reputation in credential fraud. The commitment to her work allowed the luxury of semi-retirement while continuing her national advocacy and consultancy roles. Her own personal conflict would prove to be her greatest ethical challenge while under the care of Doctor Love.
Thank you, Maddi, for a beautifully written story. I hope it inspires other, shale I say 'mature women,' to have some sexy fun. Dr Victoria Ricco.
Have you ever desired something so much knowing it should never be? The Practice is my mountain too high. Not in a physical sense. I've shattered enough glass ceilings not to be afraid of heights, but professionally and morally. It was the charming and beguiling Doctor Love to be precise that placed me firmly on the horns of a dilemma.
I considered myself fortunate when I discovered the Practice, an exclusive medical centre for women in the historic Park Crescent area. The prestigious address made it the most fashionable and expensive real estate in the city. The interior of the building is just divine. Captivated with the luxurious facilities and pampering services, I registered with the Practice and commenced treatment with Doctor Love.
Could I have met a man more distinguished and attractive for his age? Well, our age actually with use both in our late 50's. What excited me so much about Doctor Love? He's the consummate professional, eminently qualified and, according to my research, accomplished in his field. Handsome looks didn't escape my attention. His warm dreamy eyes and gorgeous smile, a pleasant distraction. He's a gentleman, always impeccably dressed and quite charming. I marvelled at how this man had created such a wonderful place for women. He is my intellectual equal, also having a PhD. How could I not find our discussions so stimulating and enjoy his company under that delightful gaze?
I always looked forward to our sessions and as I discovered, maybe I enjoyed them too much. Everything he did or said played with my emotions. I was increasingly having to reminding myself that he was my doctor and anything more would have been utterly inappropriate. I cancelled my appointments after our last session and haven't been back for almost a month. It wasn't my improper thoughts or eroding self-control that was my concern. There was much more to think about than that.
I'd taken early retirement from the University where I was Head of the Foreign Universities Qualifications Unit for over ten years. An independent woman with a successful academic career, I was proud of my accomplishments but looking forward to the extra time to enjoy the fruits of my labour.
Not entirely a lady of leisure, I still chaired the Government's Skilled Labour Advisory Group. I also retained my panel membership of the Skills Recognition Program, providing consultancy to the Department of Immigration. I was pleased that I could continue my work associated with my PhD in credential fraud in some reduced capacity.
After six months of semi-retirement I felt like a new woman. I joined a gym, started running and my tennis friends thought I'd turned professional. I lost a little weight, felt wonderful and couldn't be happier with my life change and professional arrangements. I've never felt so relaxed, healthy and fit. I looked and felt ten years younger. There was another surprising change, I've never felt so . . . well, aroused sexually. I've never been so horny, to put it crudely.
I'd had a couple of longish relationships but that was in my 20's and since then my professional life just took over. I knew that choosing a career over a personal relationship wasn't going to satisfy all my needs. I didn't need to rely on a man for that and after menopause it just dropped off the radar.
You can imagine my reaction when I became excited at a tight backside passing me on a run or a flexing bicep at the gym. My inquiring mind and aroused body wanted to explore this new phenomenon and so I started seeing Doctor Love at the Practice. I must admit, I was pleased at my renewed interest despite a little frustration for a single woman in my position.
Doctor Love's sessions were wonderful and I found his analysis so enlightening. I'd never known a person with such perception and insight. The change of lifestyle had such a liberating effect on me physically and emotional. My suppressed libido blossomed as the pressures of academia, corporate business and international commitments flowed from me. I had a rediscovered femininity and a remodelled body. A body with a neglected need, denied by my drive and single-minded passion for a career with little concern for any personal relationships.
While I found Doctor Love's intellect fascinating and company charming, my body had another agenda. You can imagine my reaction when he recommended sexual therapy. I was shocked and at a loss for words, my mind in conflict with my bodily needs. How could something so inappropriate be so tempting? Call it what you like. Sexual therapy simply meant having sex with Doctor Love. Not that I hadn't already entertained those taboo thoughts. More than once I had to admonished myself for the lack of self-control.
As I pondered the situation, I came to realise the irony. I'd come to Doctor Love wanting to satisfy an intimate need and he prescribed sexual therapy. I knew it was wrong. It was professional insanity. All my working life, ethics was my middle name. He was my doctor. We had highly regarded professional reputations. Our careers would be in jeopardy. It was wrong for so many reasons. Why then was my mind clinging to the weave of arousal running through my body?
Hours had been invested trying to rationalise what Doctor Love proposed. I'm sure some women would like the opportunity with such a delightful man, looking for some intimate and discreet fun. Was I one of those women? The thought of him thinking I needed him to satisfy me went against everything I stood for. I've never relied on a man for anything.
But women do have needs. Why shouldn't they purchase what they want? It's no different than paying for a massage or having a pedicure. They're all servicing a women's needs. Men have been doing it for centuries. How did I let myself get into this situation? It was too late now, committed and sitting in the park opposite the Practice about to have an appointment. With that prescription still to be filled and a steely resolve, I commenced the short walk to the Practice across the road.
Always intrigued about the Practice, it had become even more of a mystery and also aroused my professional interest. It's a beautifully restored double-story terrace home converted to a medical practice for women. It would certainly capture the imagination of any women with the means to associate with such an exclusive service in the prestigious location.
The medical centre's name was a touch of elegant sophistication while disguising any indication of its purpose. Delivering what the women desired, dreamt about or came to appreciate, was the key to its success. My own experience of the Practice bore testimony to that. I entered through the wrought iron gate, pausing to smile at the brass sign near the front door that simply read '
Doctor Love's Practice
' and the address before ringing the bell on the large stained-glass door.
Maddisyn greeted me with her lovely angelic smile. 'Hello Doctor Ricco. It's lovely to see you again. Please come through to the Sitting Room. Your dress looks gorgeous by the way.'
Maddisyn provided the perfect introduction to the Practice. One of those lovely people that you just instantly liked. When she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle and she was blessed with a smile you couldn't help but return. The philosophy of the Practice was the nurturing of the body, mind and soul through a journey of sensual self-discover and well-being. That journey begun once you met Maddisyn.
Maddisyn did more than manage the Practice. She was your host, further dispelling any preconceptions of your stereotypical medical centre. Calling those that attended as Guests rather than patients was a brilliant idea. I'm sure she knows all the Guests well and makes their visit an enjoyable one. I saw Maddisyn in a new light, previously underestimating her role in making the Practice such a wonderful place for women.
'Thank you,' I replied, aware of her intention of making me feel at home.
I'd taken ages to decide on an outfit to wear and really did appreciate her kind words never-the-less. What do you wear to sexual therapy? Was I expected to dress for a romantic evening? Maybe dressed to create some sexual arousal? Was a short skirt and some revealing cleavage the standard dress? They were some of the many questions I asked the reflection in the mirror as I'd anguished over what to wear.
