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Saturday at the sexual therapy lab (fm:voyeurism, 4103 words)

Author: Prybar
Added: Apr 24 2024Views / Reads: 1326 / 1053 [79%]Story vote: 9.80 (5 votes)
This is what I get when I don't lock the front door. I watch people having sex for my living, but this was my day off.
 


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I get the generation ABC's confused. Gen X, Gen Z whatever. None of this has any relevance to me except when somebody tried to assign characteristics to an entire generation based solely upon when they were born. Apparently, some folks believe you can predict behavior by the times influencing people as they grow up. My parents, for instance, told me that they hesitated to hire Gen Z folks at their store, because they have no work ethic. That seemed a little weird to me until I hired the first year college student, Sunshine, "call me Sun" for short. Sunshine is pure Gen Z. This was the third Saturday in a row where she "failed" to bother to clean my lab and do the laundry. I was in my office catching up on patient records that morning, and when she didn't show I figured I'd be washing and folding sheets and vacuuming the place when I got done. Somebody has to do it. The buck stops with the boss, me.

I'd been in the lab since 7 that morning, hoping to finish up early so I could have a weekend. Needing to do Sunshine's job again wasn't sitting well.

The lab is actually converted from a 40 year old house set high in the hills above Berkeley. I had it remodeled to serve my patients. What was a living room and dining area now serves as a reception room, with comfortable chairs and a couch, and an alcove that holds a small desk and patient records storage. I don't have a receptionist, but the appearance that I could increases credibility. My clients often arrive in a bit of an uncomfortable state, and some professionalism helps calm them. I frequently do initial consults here rather than in my office for this reason. Soft music from various genres softens the mood and the sounds of splashing water from the tiny waterfall hanging on one wall is comforting. Lots of plants, some paintings, and a reproduction of that photo of a sailer kissing a woman in Times Square at the end of WWII.

Once the house had three bedrooms. One is now my office. I took out a wall so the other two are now one rather large bedroom. The bed in there is a California King, so plenty of room. A box of "toys" sits on the headboard, fur gloves for back rubs, various sizes and shapes of vibrators, various size and shapes of dildos, cock rings..... you know, the usual. The couch is spacious and comfortable. The wet bar is well stocked as is the wine cooler. Only the best Champagne, for instance. The long wall is mostly window overlooking San Francisco Bay and two bridges. That's the view from the bed. The large flat screen TV for videos can been seen both from the bed and the couch.

The bath has a big jetted tub and the large open shower stall has two heads. Next to the full length mirror are wall hooks with fluffy bathrobes and shelves with towels. Twin sinks of course, a hair dryer, padded chairs to aid in dressing and undressing, with a fainting couch for discarded clothes to be tossed. A small open box with toothpaste, brushes, mouthwash, and discreetly available condoms. The lighting and music are adjustable.

It's pretty comfortable, and the view through the two way mirror from my office takes in every inch, so I can observe everything.

Oh, did I mention who I am? Dr. Frank Cummings. That's PhD not medical. I'm a sex therapist, and I see clients in this lab for both talk therapy and the more practical exercises. I help people who have issues with sex, so I work with individuals and couples mostly, but heck....it's California so sometimes more than one couple at a time.

I use surrogates when appropriate when working with individuals or couples, a male and female who are both bi comfortable, because I can accomplish just so much with only talk therapy.

I have both video and audio recording for the reception area, my office, and of course the bedroom. I was transcribing some of the audio, coordinating with my in person written observations, questions, future plans etc for the patients I had seen over the last week, when the chime rang. Someone had opened the front door. I had turned off the burglar alarm when I arrived, but the cameras are always on, inside and outside the building, for security reasons, for this is California after all. I flipped on the video monitor to see what was going on in reception. Lo and behold, Sunshine came through the door. She was two hours late for her job, but what the hell, she was there. She had added

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Email: frnkcmmngs@gmail.com
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