"That's it, Michael! I can't take this anymore!"
Cheryl threw a pillow against the wall and rolled off the bed. Michael could hear her incensed breathing as she reached for her clothes.
"You really need fucking help." After a pause, Cheryl added, "And I mean that literally. Fucking help!"
Michael didn't even watch her finish dressing. He stared out the bedroom window, acknowledging the truthfulness of everything she ranted about. He could feel his limp cock weakly lying between his legs while the most beautiful woman he knew pulled up her jeans and stormed out of the bedroom...for the last time.
The third time was the charm. Oh, she could make him cum by sucking on his cock even though it never reached full rigidity. But every time she wanted him inside her, he couldn't do it. Nothing worked. And at age 34, she expected, and deserved, better from him. Cheryl would find it somewhere else.
Michael realized it was time to do something. As hard as it would be on his ego and wallet, he had to do something. Quick.
###
Emma struggled to hold back the tears she could feel welling up in her eyes.
"What do you think about during sex, Emma?"
The monotone voice of the old man in the chair across from her always disturbed Emma. Today it was bordering on anger.
"Sex," she replied defiantly.
"With whom?"
"Usually anybody except the guy I'm with."
Dr. Schmidt peered over his reading glasses at the young woman. He had found her extremely attractive from the first day they met and now looked at her again to help determine just how a beautiful woman in her early thirties could find it so difficult to complete a simple sex act. The more they talked the more he was convinced it was truly in her head. This was not a physical problem.
"Are the men you date unattractive to you, Emma?"
She took that one as a personal affront. "No! I mean, I date good looking guys. They may be jerks, but they're good looking and usually hun..., I mean, uh, they are well endowed."
"At what point do you start to realize you may not cum?" Dr. Schmidt asked without acknowledging her last answer.
"The moment we're naked."
The doctor squinted across the room at Emma.
"Then why do you do it?" he asked.
"They expect it. Sex, I mean. And I may want to see him again," Emma said timidly. "I may not want to lose him the first time we're together."
Dr. Schmidt scribbled notes. "Are you a lesbian?"
"I am NOT! I used to cum with guys in high school. It's just been, well, the last couple years...," she said and paused. "I am NOT into women."
The doctor took a deep breath and gazed into Emma's blue eyes. He imagined himself, or any man, watching her strip off her clothes prior to sex. The blouses she wore to counseling were always a little too tight and always unbuttoned one button too far. The smooth, tan skin around her cleavage, her blonde hair, and stunning eyes had his cock twitching in just the brief time he paused to scrutinize her.
He suspected her breasts were round and firm, not overly large but exceedingly tempting. The nipples that always pressed against her blouse were hard. Her stomach was flat and her waist small, leading down to rounded hips and a luscious ass.
She was nearly a perfect package, but couldn't orgasm during sex.
"What do you think we need to do, Emma?"
She shrugged. Then, as if she had been waiting for a chance to say it, she added, "I think I need a reason to have sex with a guy. I mean, a reason besides him wanting to fuck me. Does that make sense."
Dr. Schmidt grinned. "It does. Go on."
Emma hadn't expected that request. She thought for a moment. "I fantasize about being some type of a sexual aide for a guy, or whatever the word would be. A woman who was there to have sex with somebody and accomplish something at the same time. I want to make a man cum and feel good about it. Like it helped him or something. If I did that, I bet I could have orgasms all day. Geez, I'm rambling and making no sense whatsoever, aren't I?"
Emma saw the doctor sit up straight in his chair with a look of excitement on his face for the very first time.
###
"God, I don't know," Michael groaned. "I guess I think about how I'm probably not going to be able to be hard enough to have sex and how she's going to react and how shitty I'm going to feel afterwards."
Dr. Schmidt listened to his new patient intently. So far, nothing unusual had been disclosed about Michael. It rarely happened in the first couple sessions. But he pushed this patient a little harder than most, partly because of Michael's young age and apparent desire for a quick cure.
"What kind of women do you have sex with, Michael?"
"Desperate women," he said with a straight face before looking at the doctor and smiling. He got a small grin in return.
"What kind of women do you WANT to have sex with? What kind of woman would make you hard?"
Michael looked down at the floor. "A woman who seemed to care. One that cared about ME. How I felt. What I needed."
###
In all his years in practice, Dr. Schmidt never used one patient to cure another, and in the process cure both of them. But he'd never had two patients at the same time like Emma and Michael.
Emma needed a purpose for sex. Michael needed more than a living, breathing sex doll.
It would be risky, but he intended to bring the two of them together, in his office. It wouldn't be the first time sex ever occurred under his watchful eye. He'd had a couple female patients over the years who willingly accepted his 'treatment.' But this would be the first time he teamed one patient with another.
Dr. Schmidt often allowed graduate students at the local university to observe and listen to his sessions behind a two-way mirror. This time, he intended to be the interested observer. If his plan backfired, he would be close-by to address it. If his plan worked...; well, he'd be close-by to 'observe.'
His office purposely looked much like a counselor's office portrayed in the movies or on TV. Yes, there was a large couch. And a big chair for the doctor, coffee tables, dark bookshelves and dark wood on the walls. It was all a deliberate attempt to comfort new patients by enclosing them in a warm, homey setting.
It was NOT designed as a sex playground, but Dr. Schmidt hoped Emma and Michael would make do.
He talked to Emma first. He explained her function in meeting Michael, with Dr. Schmidt in the room, and how she would be asked to play the role of sexual healer. Dr. Schmidt emphasized that actual sex would not necessarily have to occur in the first encounter; that getting an erection out of Michael would be considered progress. Emma seemed genuinely excited.
He then met with Michael and explained to him that Emma would be there only because of Michael and sex might, or might not, happen. Dr. Schmidt assured Michael that neither of them was under any obligation whatsoever, but that Emma really wanted to help.
With both patients in agreement, Dr. Schmidt set up the time for the appointment. Emma was probably the most optimistic that it would work. Michael was willing to try anything. The doctor just didn't want the whole thing to blow up in his face.
On the fateful day, Emma arrived first. She wore her customary blouse and dress slacks, with perhaps a touch more makeup than she normally had on. In any case, Dr. Schmidt found her as attractive as always.
Michael arrived soon afterwards and the patients met for the first time. Both were pleasantly surprised that they were within a year or two of the same age. Dr. Schmidt had been intentionally vague in his descriptions of the two participants and they were relieved that at least there was a physical appeal at first sight.
Michael had an athletic body with the muscular arms that Emma favored. He was tanned with dark hair and eyes, although you'd never find him on the cover of GQ. She loved small asses on men, and he fit the bill.
All three sat in the office and chatted for more than fifteen minutes. They laughed often and Dr. Schmidt interpreted the patients' body language as beginning to show some comfort.
When he felt the time was right, Dr. Schmidt said, "I think we should begin, if we may. I'd like you both to stand and strip down to your underwear."
Once the shock of the statement wore off, Michael rose from his chair. Emma followed a second or two later. They stood about five feet apart, not quite facing each other. Michael began to remove his shirt. Emma unbuttoned her blouse.
Dr. Schmidt watched with interest as the pair undressed. Michael was pulling down his pants before Emma had her blouse off. Dr. Schmidt saw Michael's eyes gravitate to her larger-than-expected breasts hidden behind her sheer bra and, likewise, Emma sneaked a glance at the cock inside Michael's shorts as she removed her pants.
With the outer clothes removed, Dr. Schmidt said, "Sit together on the couch, please."
Emma and Michael sat side-by-side, nowhere near touching each other. The doctor smiled to himself, believing they had cleared the first big hurdle. Emma crossed her long legs and struggled with where to put her hands. Michael struggled with everything involved in the exercise, including when and how to look at Emma.
They both managed to get the initial, awkward glance in without incident. Then Dr. Schmidt re-started the casual conversation as if nothing had happened. Soon, he noticed near normal hand gestures and postures that indicated continued progress. Emma and Michael began to frequently look at each other and even joke about their 'attire.'
"Emma, move closer to Michael," Dr. Schmidt said. "Put your hand on his leg."
