"So tell me, Suzanne, What kind of work do you do?" The question was cordial small talk, the conversation light and easy amongst newly acquainted women.
The cocktail party was lively, especially considering that it was a weeknight. Since the hosts lived only a block and a half away, Suzanne had decided to walk, which gave her more latitude on how much wine she might drink.
Nearing the end of her second glass of Chardonnay, Suzanne offered a playful, if not shocking response to the question. "You might say that I'm a sex worker." Then she paused to let that sink in. She took a sip of wine, a mischievous smile growing on her face in contrast to the uncomfortable surprise of the two women she was talking with.
Breaking the silence, she laughed, "Actually, to be more specific, I counsel married couples who are having challenges... in the bedroom."
She paused again for emphasis. The conversation then proceeded, with the women now interested in hearing more. This is how most discussions of her career unfolded.
In hindsight, Suzanne never expected sex to be the way she earned a living.
She'd had no idea what she would do with a college degree in Human Relations. So her journey to establishing her now successful couples sex therapy practice was as much an accident as it was a happy ending. She loved that metaphor.
Professionally, she referred to her business as intimacy counseling. But in actuality, her work was about helping established couples get back to the important business of fucking one another.
Her approach to helping couples rekindle their sex life was based on homo sapiens' innate capacity for desire. While that part was simple enough, her approach was both unique and, compared to others in the field, potentially controversial.
During an initial consultation with a new client couple, Suzanne would first validate that both parties were sincerely looking to improve their sex life together, that this was not a one-sided effort. If yes, she would explain her process to them in detail, gain their written consent to participate and sign an iron-clad non-disclosure agreement.
After the legal parts were formalized, she would schedule a series of sessions, usually 4 or 5, designed to gradually build anticipation and desire between them. The controversial part was that the sessions were to take place in her office, on consecutive days, and under her direct supervision.
In the first session, she would have her clients simply remove their shoes and comfortably sit on the floor, close to and facing one another. With their eyes closed, they were instructed to take turns touching each other's hands, arms, and face and then, towards the end of the allotted time, lightly caressing their partner's genital area, all while still clothed.
Regardless of whether they were aroused or not, they were admonished not to engage in any sexual activity outside of her office.
During the coming days, she instructed the couples in progressively more erotic actions; light kissing, then touching while only wearing their undergarments, and sometimes mutual masturbation. Then, in a final session, she would give her clients the green light to get down to business and make the beast with two backs.
Her methodology was foolproof. By the time her clients had reached the final session, they could not wait to fuck each other senseless. Referrals had become her main source of new clients, a testimony to the success of the methodology.
Once she had refined the approach and found success with it, she abandoned having official licensing, knowing that the regulatory agencies would hang her out to dry if they found out how she was getting results.
Suzanne's own sex life, in contrast, looked more like a slow motion train wreck.
She was married with two college-aged children, and had a historically positive and loving relationship with her husband. His career had long required extensive travel, often over weekends, which had increased over the years as he moved up the corporate ladder.
Their time apart became a bigger challenge when he accepted a major promotion that required him to work full time at a corporate office, a seven hour drive away.
With her therapy business doing well financially, they agreed that he would rent an apartment, she would remain with their then high school-aged children in their home city, and he would commute on weekends.
That was seven years ago.
Eventually, every weekend became every third or fourth, and the weekends that included sex had become even fewer than that. When they discussed their unintended abstinence, her husband blamed the stress of work and his long drive each way to get home. Suzanne was suspicious that he had found a mistress.
She was mirroring her clients' plight in her own marriage and considered suggesting her own therapy methods to their situation. However, her husband, while supportive of her professional success, had long before expressed his non-interest in the topic of sex therapy. He said it was too touchy-feely for his taste. She simply assessed him as being too closed minded; and not only about sex but about many things.
Now, living alone for the most part, she longed for a sweaty romp between the sheets. Her only options were her favorite rabbit and a paid porn site subscription. She considered posting a hook-up ad but was too concerned that a friend, client, or someone else close would discover her.
Her sexual frustration had built to the point that she would often masturbate with abandon following a client session, which never lifted her spirit. She was miserable with her situation.
###
Suzanne arrived at her office Tuesday morning a little late, but was relieved to see an email message from her newest client that they were running behind schedule and that they would arrive an hour late. Lucky for them, she had a lighter schedule and responded that it would be ok.
The change gave her time to catch up on some billing matters, which left her feeling relaxed and unrushed. After clearing up some pending invoices, she sat back in her office chair, checking her notes on the client couple she would be seeing shortly.
Meredith and Charles, both in their 40's, had been referred by another couple she had seen the year prior. Her initial phone meeting with them had not revealed anything unique or challenging to work through. Like most of her clients, they had simply lost the sexual spark but cared enough for each other to try to find it.
It had been a frank discussion between Meredith and her female friend, Suzanne's former client, that led to them reaching out for counseling. It was almost always this way; wives taking the initiative to fix the problem. Husbands were more likely to pout or sulk about it, by her observation.
