Rex

I continue seeing Cindy twice a week while finishing up my college credits and simultaneously completing the one hundred hours of coursework needed to become a Certified Sex Surrogate. Most of it’s common sense. Things like being sensitive to the clients needs, going at the clients pace and always being mindful that it’s a healing process instead of a casual sexual encounter. By the end of the course I’ve confirmed the feeling that I’d rather be a gigolo than an actual surrogate. Maybe it’s my age or lack of relationship experience, but it seems that most of what I can offer a woman lies in the physical realm as opposed to the emotional one.

“I’m impressed,” Cindy says glancing down at my test results. “You breezed right through it. So what’s the plan from here?”

“I was thinking that you could refer me a client and I’ll see if this is something I can actually do,” I reply with a shrug. “I haven’t told Mom any of this and she’s the only other therapist I know who works with sexual dysfunction.”

“Your mother will probably never be a great referral source,” she says with a laugh. “I’m a little nervous about being one myself.”

“A referral source or a client?” I ask, always looking to get a rise out of her.

“Whether you believe it or not, I’m not in need of your services,” she says in an unconvincing manner. “It may have been a while, but I’m good in that department.”

“That’s too bad, because I think you would be the perfect first client for me,” I counter, attempting to turn our conversation into a logical argument. “Since you understand how all of this works, it could be part of my learning process.”

“If you want to role play, we can do that,” she says, inspiring a ray of hope. The thought of being with her has been driving me crazy for weeks. “But there will be no sexual contact. It would violate even ethical boundaries now, since I’m your sponsoring therapist.”

“Ah, more rules.” I shake my head, disappointed by more roadblocks being thrown onto the path. “You’re probably right to keep me at arm’s length though. I wouldn’t want you blowing your entire paycheck on my services.” I give her my best devilish grin, accompanied by fuck me eyes which I recently read about somewhere. It said that if you want to get a woman into bed you mentally project, I want to fuck you, while looking at them and they can see it in your eyes. I can’t tell if it’s working on Cindy or not.

“Okay,” she says, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “I do have one particular client in mind. She’s twenty-six and has always had issues with intimacy. She was recently dumped by her boyfriend for being too frigid, which seems to be a familiar cycle that keeps repeating. Can I trust you to be a gentleman?”

“Of course, I’ll be a gentleman,” I scoff, thinking that she should know me well enough by now. “I’ve always treated women with respect and let them set the pace.”

“I would’ve thought so, but then again, you’ve been causing me a bit of consternation during our sessions.” She crosses her arms and delivers an indignant glare.

“I just enjoy seeing how well you handle it,” I tell her honestly. “It’s pretty cool that I can make you blush. I’ve known all along that nothing was going to happen between us. That’s what made it so much fun,” I add, using a little reverse psychology.

“Seriously? So, you’re implying that you’ve just been messing with me?” she asks, her eyes growing dark.

“I’ve been messing with you, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t based in truth,” I reply, getting up from my chair and walking over to her. I lean down, placing a hand on each of her arm rests and look her directly in the eyes. “Under different circumstances, I would pursue you until I broke you.” The tension between us becomes almost palpable as she turns her focus to my lips. “I would love to spend an entire evening exploring your body with these lips. Caressing and kneading every sensitive spot I come upon.” I pause moving within millimeters of her lips. “Unfortunately, because of my mother and your code of ethics, that won’t be possible.” I pause briefly before pulling back and rising back up. “I’ll play it as slow as anyone needs to go.”

Cindy clears her throat and adjusts her blouse as if my words have knocked something out of place. Maybe she’s just a little steamed up under the collar. “Her name is Sammy Renshaw and she’s from Linwood. I have a session with her tomorrow, so I’ll ask her if she’s ready to take the next step.”

“I’ve been thinking about the whole process,” I tell her, still not wanting to be a sex therapist. “I don’t think I’m cut out for all that emotional stuff. I don’t want to talk to people about their hang-ups and feelings. I’ve always been more interested in physical therapy, if you know what I mean.”

Cindy smiles and shakes her head. “All you need to do is provide the perfect boyfriend experience. Take her out, let her talk and actually listen. You aren’t qualified to give any advice or do any form of counseling anyway, that’s my job. Your role is to be the perfect date. Show her it’s possible and see if she’ll open up for you.”

“How many times will we go out?” I ask, still not really understanding the length of my commitment.

“As many times as she needs,” she replies, looking up at me with a motherly glare. “Maybe you can work your magic in one or two sessions, but it may take several. You’ll make two-fifty per session and twice that for any sessions that become intimate. You’ll also be reimbursed for all expenses, such as taking her out for dinner.”

“Two hundred and fifty bucks just for going on a date? Plus, she’s billed for dinner. That’s a pretty sweet gig,” I reply, thinking that maybe I’ve been reading too much into this. “So basically, I just have to be nice and let her talk about whatever’s on her mind?”

“And be impartial. No judgment.” She continues to glare intently, emphasizing the seriousness of what she is saying. “The goal is to get her to open up, so you’ll have to be accepting of whatever she has to say.”

“Hey, I have no problem with that. I don’t even know her, so why would I judge her?” I ask, not understanding why there would be any conflict.

“If you can be impartial, then we can help lots of women working together.” She makes a note, slips her pen into the folder and sets it aside. “Will this coming Friday work for you?”

“Sure. I could use some extra cash. I haven’t worked much since I got hurt.” It’s been another source of frustration for me. I’ve always earned my own money ever since I got my first paper route in junior high. “Not being able to work and being behind in school have been almost as frustrating as not being able to play football.”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate and I think you’ve handled it well,” she says with a subtle smile. “Have you ever thought about why your mother sent you to see me? Since depression really isn’t one of my specialties.”

“She thought you were someone I’d be able to talk to and I think she was right. I really didn’t want to be analyzed by some shrink,” I say, revealing my true feelings about psychotherapy. “I think she knew I’d keep coming back to see more of you.” I return to my devilish grin, glancing down at her gorgeous legs.

“You’ll never stop, will you?”

“Probably not. There’s always a chance I’ll catch you at a weak moment.” I give her a wink before rising from my chair.

“God, I hope that never happens.” She giggles, showing me to the door. “I’ll let you know about Friday night.”

Cindy

The following day, Rex is still in the back of my mind as I begin Sammy’s session. If I were a weaker woman, I might just throw caution in the wind and keep him for myself. Believe me, I’ve thought about it quite a bit the past few weeks. The kid is gorgeous and judging by the bulge he displays nearly every session; he’s packing a serious tool. I’m surprised to find myself a bit reluctant to turn him over to another woman. I clear the ridiculous notion from my head and push forward, wanting to help Sammy find a solution to her lingering problems.

“Rehashing this stuff every week doesn’t really seem to be helping me much,” she says, probably noticing that I’m a bit distracted.

“I know, Sammy.” I try to smile, even though I’m feeling anything but happy about setting her up with Rex. “What you need is the perfect boyfriend experience. To go out and have fun, without pressure or expectations of any kind.”

“Yeah, like finding the perfect boyfriend is totally realistic.” Her eyes widen as she bursts into a belly laugh. “You got one for me?”

“I do actually. This is Rex.” I pull his profile picture from the folder and hand it to her.

“Good one. This guy looks like a Calvin Klein model,” she replies with a snarl. “Is the plan to roofie him or what?”

“He just completed the coursework to become a certified sex surrogate. I thought it might be a good way to help you reset after the experiences you’ve had in the past. Go out, have some fun and there will be no false pretenses,” I explain, watching fear blossom in her eyes.

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head violently, pushing back in the chair. “I’ve always had bad experiences with guys who look like that. I end up falling for them and in the end, all they’re really after is my father’s money.”

“Sweetie. I think you just illustrated the root of your problem.” I make a note in her folder. “You’re a beautiful, young woman. There’s no reason to tell them who your father is, at least not until you want them to meet him.”

“Beautiful? Really? I’m sorry, but I’ve had Facebook for over a year and the only pictures I can get myself to post are the ones of my cat. I look like a fucking dork compared to everyone else on there.” She crosses her arms and scowls. “At least on MySpace everyone used caricatures.”

“Social media is going to be a problem for lots of people,” I tell her, knowing full well how it feels to look through everyone else’s perfect life while being stuck in a personalized version of hell. “I’m honestly glad that crap wasn’t around when I was growing up.”

“So… why would I want to go out with a sex surrogate anyway?” Her arms remain crossed as she glares at me looking for answers.

“To see how a woman should be treated. To catch a glimpse of how it could be to find the right guy. Maybe just to try to find out what you really want,” I reply, hoping something will resonate with her. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know. Just to have a relationship that doesn’t totally suck I guess.” Her glare drops back to the floor between us. Rex has his work cut out for him on this one. It will be a true test for him on his first time out.

“I want you to go out with Rex on Friday night. Just dress how you normally dress and don’t cake on a bunch of makeup. Just be you and let’s see how it goes,” I suggest trying to draw her attention back to me. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Just go out and be my homely self, huh? That sounds like fun.” She continues to sulk.

“Or if you’d rather, maybe we could meet for lunch on Friday and I’ll help you pick out an outfit for the special occasion. We could have lunch at Sandy’s downtown and there’s that cute little shop next door,” I offer, drawing a smile out of her.

“You would do that for me?” I witness the first twinkle I’ve ever seen in her eyes.

“You’ve been coming to me on and off for four years. It’s about time we go have lunch and do a little shopping. I’ll meet you there at eleven thirty on Friday,” I reply, suddenly feeling more like a mother than a therapist. “I would be happy to do it since I know your mother hasn’t been able to do a lot of those things for you.”

“Thank you,” she replies with tears popping into the corners of her eyes. I think I just witnessed a crack in that tough outer shell that she has always had. Her mother was diagnosed with MS when she was ten years old and over the next half dozen years their roles completely reversed. Her father seems to think that throwing money at her would ensure happiness, but in reality all she wants is his love and approval. That’s why there are big gaps in her emotional development, but it shouldn’t result in her not finding true love and fulfillment. Hopefully helping her prepare for her date will be the first step in the right direction.

I have to talk to Rex about her to make sure he realizes the extent of her fragile ego. She needs someone who will build up her confidence, someone who makes her feel like a beautiful young woman. After all, she is just that. She doesn’t need to use her father’s status to elevate her own. That behavior is causing her to attract the wrong type of guys.