Teddy Visits A Therapist

This story concerns the further adventures of Teddy (who is above the age of 18) attending Templeton College. However, you really don't need to read earlier stories concerning Teddy to follow or enjoy the current study. This story is relatively long, but there are clear breaks (designated by dashes) identifying separate sections that can be read in turn. It also starts a bit slow but doesn't stay that way. In any case, I do hope you enjoy it!

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It was a long time coming. No, more accurately, that was the problem, or at least he was worried that it was a problem. The problem was that it wasn't taking a long time cumming; it was at times taking no time at all to cum. It was a long time coming that he finally decided to seek professional consultation for his short time cumming.

Fortunately, Templeton College did have counseling services. It wasn't a particularly large clinic, but Templeton was not a particularly large college. It was a small private college, with quite traditional values. The boys had to wear white shirts, black slacks and jackets, black ties, and black dress shoes. The girls of Templeton wore the matching uniform of a white blouse, plaid skirt, black tie, white socks, and black Mary Janes. But, this story doesn't involve any of the girls of Templeton. It concerns Teddy.

It wasn't hard for a story at Templeton to involve Teddy. Teddy seemed to get himself into quite a few predicaments, many of them quite embarrassing (see The Lessons, Chapters 2 or 12). It's not that he didn't have his good times. His life with Penny was quite good indeed (see The Lessons, Chapters 6 and 10), but that was now in fact part of the problem. It had become so good that he was becoming a little trigger happy, resulting in some embarrassing moments in what was suppose to be good times.

It was particularly embarrassing for him with Penny. He wanted to please Penny so much. She worked so hard to please him. She wanted him to be happy, to be happy with her. It didn't bother her when he came fast. To her this just showed how much she had excited him. In fact, a couple of times she had tried to make him shoot real, real fast.

He came particularly fast when they did it; when they went all the way; when he put his thing inside of her. It was just so intense that way. It was like every single nerve of his penis was being stimulated at once, wrapped tightly in her rippled, soft, wet sheath. When he started sliding in and out, the engorged head of his cock pushing through her hot, squishy tightness, he would just lose control and started squirting.

She didn't mind.

But, he did. He knew he wasn't lasting long enough to make her happy.

He could make her happy other ways. He didn't mind doing that. On the contrary, he loved doing it, as she loved him for doing it.

But, he wanted to make her happy the usual way, the normal way, and so many times he just couldn't stop himself. Even if they did it a second time, he would still cum too quickly. And, he tried all sorts of things. He tried masturbating before he picked her up for their date. Didn't work. He tried Woody Allen's tactic of thinking about baseball games. Didn't work. He tried wearing a condom, even two condoms. Didn't work.

So, he bit the bullet and sought professional help.

He was very embarrassed about doing so. He certainly didn't tell his parents, or any of his friends, nor even Penny. He knew that she would be understanding. She was understanding about so many things. But, it was just too embarrassing for him. He felt it questioned his very masculinity, his ability to be a man. And, besides, he hoped to get over the problem on his own. It was kind of like secretly learning to dance, and then surprising your girlfriend at the prom with all your cool new moves. He hoped that it would be something like that.

So, he took a deep breath and went to the college counseling center, and man, it wasn't easy. They did try to make it easy for you, but it was still difficult. The first person he had to talk to was this pretty student receptionist who might have even been younger than him (he was 18 years old). The clinic assistants were mostly undergraduates: volunteer psychology majors trying to get at least some exposure to the life of a clinical psychologist. She was herself 18, but she certainly didn't look it.

At least he didn't have to explain his problem to her, out loud and in front of other people. He just had to fill out an intake form. But, still, he had to give it back to her. She would read it. She was very friendly and considerate about it, but he couldn't help but feel rather inadequate when he handed the form to her. He looked away as soon as she took it, imagining her giggling as she read "premature ejaculation" in the section for his "Incoming complaint."

She then gave him a whole stack of questionnaires to fill out. They were really weird. They were all full of questions about whether or not he was crazy, a drug user, suicidal, and so forth. He actually didn't answer all of them honestly. He wouldn't admit to all of the sexual stuff he had been doing. He sure as heck wasn't going to tell anyone about the time with Miss Harding. Frankly, that was nobody's business (but, for your interest, see The Lessons, Chapter 10), and if anyone found out it would probably get him in trouble. He decided not to even tell anyone about the other stuff with her (see The Lessons, Chapters 2 and 6) as these things would probably get her in trouble as well.

But, he did wonder if that was perhaps part of the problem. It was perhaps no coincidence that he was seeking sexual therapy and yet wouldn't talk about his sex life. That didn't sound too good. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with him?

In any case, when he completed the questionnaires the receptionist told him that someone would call him within 48 hours to set up an appointment. The professional staff would want to review his test results to determine the best possible therapist for his particular problem. If he felt that he needed to see someone sooner, she would set up an appointment right away.

He said fine. He would wait for their call. He was just glad to get out of there.

Frankly, he wouldn't have minded if nobody called him. He would probably just grow out of it. That must be true in most cases. But, what if it didn't go away? He wished he had taken Mr. Baldwin's Abnormal Psychology class. It would probably have been all explained there. He considered asking Mr. Baldwin about his problem, but he knew that Mr. Baldwin would just refer him back to the counseling center.

They did call.

He was assigned to see Dr. Susan Lowenstein.

That didn't mean anything to him at all.

Actually, it did. She was a woman. He was assigned to see a woman. He was suppose to talk to a woman about premature ejaculation? No way!

But, then, when he thought about it, it actually seemed better that way. He sure as heck didn't want to explain to some stud male that he spilled his milk, or to some old guy who reminded him of his father. He had never talked to his father about any of this sort of stuff. His father had just given him a book to read. He wasn't about to tell his dad that he was having trouble keeping his gun from going off. He knew that the therapist wouldn't be his father, but he just couldn't talk to an old guy about that sort of thing. Heck, the guy would probably tell him that he shouldn't be having any sex anyway. That was certainly the policy of Templeton, as well as his dad. It was in fact even within the student code that sexual fraternization was not condoned on campus. If the Student Disciplinary Board found out about Penny and him in the library; well, man, that would be terrible. No, he was not about to talk about this sort of stuff with some authoritative, judgmental old man. So, it might be actually good it was going to be a woman.

But, maybe he was just trying to boost his own courage. A woman could be even worse. It would be like his mother. If he couldn't talk about this sort of thing with his father, how could he do it with his mother? His mother would be far more disapproving than his father. She would probably tell him to take more cold showers, that he was having self-control problems because he was too young to be doing this anyway. It was his body telling him that he was doing something wrong, spilling his seed upon the ground.

He was not looking forward to this at all. He kept thinking of excuses for not going to his appointment.

But, for the sake of his relationship with Penny, he would go through with it. He would try at least one session. If it wasn't helpful, if he didn't like it, he wouldn't go back. They couldn't turn him in or anything. It wasn't like they could force him into treatment.

Could they?

No, they couldn't do that. They could only do that if he was hearing voices or threatening to kill someone, or kill himself. He would have to make sure he didn't say anything dramatic like that.

He arrived only minutes before the appointment. Psychotherapists at least didn't have you arrive a half hour early like real doctors, and then have you wait in a second room for another half hour for the doctor to finally show up, to spend only five minutes with you. In fact, the receptionist didn't even scold him for arriving just minutes before his appointment. She just smiled sweetly, asked him to sign in, and sent him to room 5A to see Dr. Lowenstein.

When he arrived at her door, he quietly, timidly, knocked.

"Come in." He heard her voice. It was a nice voice. A friendly voice. It also didn't sound like his mother's voice.

He opened the door.

Dr. Lowenstein was not his mother; right away he could see that was true. His mother was never as pretty as this, or at least as far as he could remember.

Dr. Lowenstein was, well, he just had to acknowledge it, she was really very attractive.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but she reminded him of someone. He kept staring at her face, trying to get the name. Was it someone he knew?

She had absolutely gorgeous big grey eyes, dark lashes, long wavy auburn hair, sweet red lips, and a delicate, thin nose. And, oh yes, a lovely, incandescent smile. For a brief moment, he had the thought of Julia Roberts, with spectacles, smiling at him. "Peter? Peter?" Dr. Lowenstein was trying to get his attention, as he was just standing in the doorway, staring at her, deep in thought.

"Oh, yes, sorry doctor. I was, um, confused, by, something." He wondered if it would have been better if the doctor had reminded him of his mother, rather than a sexy, very sexy, movie star. Just thinking about talking about sex with Julia Roberts was giving him a hard-on.

She smiled sweetly at him from behind her desk. As she stood up, he could tell that she even had Julia Robert's long, shapely legs, stretching out from her tight, short business skirt. She moved around the desk to set in her easy chair, next to a couch, her skirt rising up her thighs. She gestured to him to sit down on the couch.

It was a rather peculiar couch. It had no back to it. You couldn't lean back in it. It actually looked more like a bed, a single bed, but unlike a bed it rose up a bit at the head, for the head. But, rather than a pillow, there was just this white cloth. She explained it to him as he sat down.

"I know the couch looks a little peculiar, Teddy. It's a traditional analytic couch. I don't, however, practice traditional psychoanalysis. I use Interpretive Sensate Focus Therapy that is informed by psychodynamic theory. Are you familiar with this approach, Teddy?"

"A little, ma'am. I haven't taken abnormal psychology yet, but I have taken intro psych."

"Well, that's fine, Teddy. You don't really have to know about it to be helped by it. It is basically a cognitive-behavioral approach, with a bit of interpretive exploration."

This explanation was as much Greek to him as the name.

"It is a systematic desensitization approach. We will establish a hierarchy of your problem, from the simplest to the most difficult, and will work our way up, step by step."

This was now beginning to ring a bell. "Oh, you mean like Baby Steps, in that movie with Bill Murray?"

"'What about Bob?'"

"Yea, that's it."

Dr. Lowenstein smiled patiently. "Well, in a sense, yes, Teddy, but that was, of course, a fictional portrayal that really lacked the depth and the detail, although it does give a nice sense of the idea of working our way, step by step. Basically, we first master the problem where it is easiest, and then work our way up each step, one step at a time. You'll find that each new step is not much more difficult than the previous one, and, slowly but surely, you will overcome the problem."

"The longest journey begins with just one step."

"Yes, very good, Teddy, although you will in fact find that this journey is unlikely to really be that long. I have reviewed your intake material and I am confident that this will be a rather straightforward treatment."

Teddy was relieved to hear this. It is always so nice to have the doctor reassure you early in the treatment that the problem is solvable.

"As I said, my approach does also use a bit of interpretive exploration. We won't be searching through your childhood history or interpreting any dreams, but we will use techniques to uncover problematic beliefs, cognitions, schemas, that are interfering with your ability to function sexually."

"Sure, that's fine, doctor." This was the first time she had even referred to sex, and he immediately felt a bit anxious.

"For example, Teddy, I noticed that when you first came into the room, you hesitated, as if you were lost in some thought."

"Yes ma'am." He wasn't surprised that the psychologist had noticed this. After all, this is what they are good at, reading your behavior and mind.

"What were you thinking?"

Teddy wasn't sure he wanted to tell her, and Dr. Lowenstein noticed this as well.

"You're uncomfortable telling me, aren't you, Teddy."

"A little bit, ma'am, yes."

She leaned forward in her chair, placed a reassuring hand on his knee, and smiled at him through her spectacles with her lovely grey eyes. "Now, Teddy, an important part of my sensate focus approach is for you to tell me whatever you're thinking, at any particular point in time. I want to reassure you that nothing you say will shock me, or will make me think poorly of you. We must get at these thoughts if we are to overcome them."

"Oh, ma'am, I wasn't thinking about anything sexual." He was embarrassed to think that she might believe that the first thing he thought about when he saw her was some sort of perverted sexual fantasy. But, still, he was in fact thinking about something sexual.

"Even if you were, Teddy, that wouldn't matter." She patted him on his knee and said, "Now, be a good patient and tell the doctor everything."

"Well, ma'am, I was, um, when I first saw you, you made me think of." This felt so embarrassing to admit, "Julia Roberts."

Dr. Lowenstein smiled. She had never heard that before. Thoughts of one's mother were much more common. "Very good, Teddy, thank you for sharing that with me. Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Actually, he was feeling a bit hard, as the thought of sharing his sexual feelings and fantasies with Julia Roberts again slipped into his head. For the first time, he smiled back at Dr. Lowenstein. "No, ma'am, I mean, doctor."

"Very good, Teddy." Dr. Lowenstein then sat back in her chair, brought out her pad, and said, "Alright then, Teddy, why don't you take your penis out and we can take a look at the problem."

Panic swept over Teddy. "What?" was all he could say. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Dr. Lowenstein smiled reassuringly. "Perhaps I did use a poor choice of words. I didn't mean that your penis was itself the problem. I'm sure it's a very fine penis."

That really wasn't just the problem. Yes, he would be a bit, actually, a lot, self-conscious about showing his penis to Dr. Lowenstein. It would be hard not to think about how it measured up to her. She was a mature, professional, and even a very attractive woman. She had surely seen many penises in her life, many erect cocks, and probably many that were much better, much bigger, than his own. He knew full well that he would not measure up. But, more importantly, more fundamentally, even if he had a cock that any guy would be proud of, he wasn't expecting that he would be showing it to her. Why on the earth for? "Do you really need to see it?"

"Oh my goodness, yes, Teddy. Sensate focus therapy is a behavioral method. This isn't just talking therapy. Optimal sexual functioning is like any other skill; it's something you must learn and practice. In sensate focus we will work you through each step. You know, like the baby steps."

"But, with you, right here, in front of you?"

"Now don't be shy, Teddy. I am a sex therapist. I have worked with many young men and women before." Actually, her words did not convey the most accurate description of her clinical expertise. Dr. Lowenstein was indeed a skilled therapist. That was certainly true. She had been practicing for quite a number of years. However, she had only just recently learned about the treatment of sexual dysfunctions through a one-week continuing education workshop that she had attended last summer. She was quite anxious to expand her practice to include sexual dysfunction. She supposed that she could have told Teddy how inexperienced she really was with respect to sex therapy. He was in fact her first sexual dysfunction patient. But, research has indicated that a patient's confidence in the skills and expertise of the therapist is itself important and useful to recovery. And, besides, she really hadn't said a falsehood. She had worked with many young men and women before, and she could now call herself a sex therapist, having been certified through the workshop.

She continued to explain the rationale for her approach. "Part of learning healthy sexual functioning is to become comfortable with it, to be able to do it, as well as to talk about it. Of course, the actual skill techniques you will be practicing at home, with your partner. We will want you to develop the skills in vivo. Right now, though, I just need to get a baseline assessment of the problem. Now, let's see that merry little man."

Teddy was really confused. He knew his face was beet red. He could feel perspiration forming on his brow, and even running down beneath his arms. His heart was pounding. "But, ma'am, I'm afraid that, well, um."

Dr. Lowenstein had worked with enough young men to know what his problem was. She could see it in his face, as well as in his pants. As young men explored their fantasies on her couch, with her sitting behind them, she had seen quite a number of bulges developing in their pants. She again leaned forward and placed her hand on his thigh. "Teddy, are you concerned that you have an erection?"

Teddy looked away. That was certainly a lot of it. Apparently, he wasn't going to be able to hide anything from this doctor, figuratively or literally. He answered quietly, "Yes ma'am."

"Well, Teddy, that's excellent! That's what we precisely need. I'm so glad!" She leaned in even closer, the scent of her sweet perfume drifting through the air, her quite prominent breasts just inches away, her cleavage opening up to his eyes. "You're going to be an excellent patient, Teddy. Now, here, let's not have any more of this silly inhibition." She reached for the crotch of his pants and began undoing his slacks.

"Dr. Lowenstein!" Teddy said in shock, but he didn't try to stop her; after all, she was the doctor. He leaned back on the couch, his back resting against the wall. He gripped the seat to steady himself as she worked at his zipper, belt, and clasp. He was reminded of his mother taking his pants off for a bath.