Before CE O : Includes the Complete CE O Trilogy

by MT Stone

  “I’m thinking that I can fix girls like that. Show them what they’re actually looking for, then maybe they can teach the next guy in their life a thing or two,” he says with a wink. “I don’t think most guys my age have any clue how to please a woman.”

  “It’s not just the guys and it’s not just the ones your age,” I reply with a laugh. “Most people are relatively clueless when it comes to sex, because everyone is so reluctant to talk about it. I’m not sure why there is such a stigma when it comes to sexuality.”

  “It’s not an easy topic to talk about,” he says, drawing a deep breath. “Take us for example.”

  “What about us?” I ask, knowing damn well that he’s referring to the tension that has hung in the air between us since the moment our first session began. As the adult, I know I should take the lead in the discussion, but I’m interested to see how he handles this. It will be a good indicator of whether or not I can trust him with a client.

  “I really have a thing for short dresses and sexy legs,” he says, his eyes panning mine. “And you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t get you out of my head after the last time I saw you. I know you’re friends with my mom, but no one since Teresa has turned me on the way you do.” He shifts in his seat and adjusts himself, the same way as he did last time.

  “I’m flattered, but don’t you think part of it is the fact that we both know that nothing can happen between us?” I ask, a feeling of sadness washing through me. “I mean… I could lose my license for fraternizing with any client, much less one your age. Not to mention what Margie would do to me.”

  “Oh, I’ve thought about that, but the basic fact is that I’m drawn to you in a way that makes me feel a little crazy,” he says with complete sincerity. “I would give anything to feel you in my arms and show you my talents first hand.”

  “Okay.” I pop to my feet and take a few steps toward my desk before realizing that I’m actually fleeing. “This is why it’s difficult to talk about. Because there is usually a one-sided component involved, so one or the other tends to feel uncomfortable or hurt.” I walk back to my chair and sit back down, knowing that I’m going to have to wear long pants to our next session. “Believe me. I’m extremely flattered that you find me attractive, even though I’m just a few years younger than your mother. But nothing is ever going to happen between us.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted me to be honest with you,” he says, looking away.

  “I did. I wanted to see if you were capable of talking about sexuality and your feelings, because most people have a very hard time with it.”

  “Most people didn’t grow up with a sex therapist, who has no filter, as a mother,” he says shaking his head. “I used to get embarrassed, but she would just ignore it and keep talking about it anyway. I think I became immune by the time I was eighteen.”

  “That’s actually a gift and probably explains why you’re so good with women,” I tell him, still feeling my heartbeat in my neck. That’s something else that hasn’t happened in a long, long time. He makes me feel like a schoolgirl or something. “Do you have an intuitive feel for what a woman likes or do you verbalize?”

  “I’ve learned to watch for clues. If they have a sensitive neck, then I spend some time nibbling in that area. If they have sensitive nipples, then I know that after a few minutes of playing and sucking on them, I’ll find them nice and wet when I slip my finger between their lips,” he explains, causing me to experience the effects he’s describing.

  “I can tell that you have a sensitive neck,” he says with a smirk, glancing at my hard nipples before reestablishing eye contact. “Just one more reason I find you so damn irresistible.”

  “Nothing is going to happen between us, regardless of how much you tease me,” I reiterate, trying to convince myself that I’m completely off limits.

  “That’s okay, but I’m going to continue to tease you, session after session.” A devilish look flashes in his eyes. “It took me two weeks to coax Teresa into bed, but it only took one night to show her what she had been missing.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “I miss her body, but I was never convinced that she was the one for me,” he says with a shrug. “I knew who she was and how she acted after I was hurt only confirmed it. It was kind of like giving up an addiction, but I’m glad I’m not wasting any more time with someone like that.”

  “That’s very mature of you. Most people have a hard time walking away from a relationship where the sex is great, even if they know it’s toxic,” I reply, making a note in his file.

  “Great sex is replaceable. You and I would be incredible together, for example.” He shifts in his chair once again, his bulge visibly straining against his jeans. “But there are lots of women who have sensitive nipples. Even more who respond to having their clit sucked while massaging their G-spot,” he says, emulating the motion with his long, slender middle finger.

  “It’s pretty amazing how you’re able to get my body to react using only words.” I cross my arms, embarrassed by the fact that my nipples are protruding again. “I’ll tell you what. I understand that you want to be a gigolo instead of a sex surrogate, because you think there will be too much bullshit involved. But I want you take the certification course anyway. Just for my own peace of mind. I need to be able to trust you with my clients.”

  “Trust me?” he asks with a scowl.

  “Those are probably the wrong words. I need to be able to refer clients to you and know that you’ve had proper training,” I clarify. “That’s assuming you’re interested in going forward with it.”

  “I’m interested,” he shrugs again. “A hundred-hour course is nothing. If I don’t like it, I don’t have to keep doing it. But for a thousand bucks a shot, it’s worth giving it a try.”

  “You’ll start out at a much lower rate than that,” I tell him, not wanting to set false expectations. “Two fifty to five hundred per session is where most new surrogates start out.”

  “I’m not going to be the average surrogate, so I won’t be making that for long,” he says rubbing the razor stubble on his chin. “A thousand bucks a day is my first goal.”

  “That’s a good goal,” I agree. “There is one opening left in the next certification class, which begins next week. Do you want me to refer you?”

  “Sure,” he replies with a glimmer in his eye. “Are you sure you don’t need to sample the merchandise first? Just to make sure I’m a good candidate.”

  “I’m sure,” I reply, shaking my head. “Although I do appreciate your persistence. Half of the time great orgasms are a result of sheer persistence. I can see you have that trait covered.”

  “Persistence has always been one of my best qualities.” He gets up from his chair and stretches, showcasing that very impressive bulge which is now at eye level.

  “I’ll submit the referral and contact you once your class time has been confirmed,” I tell him, turning and rising from chair as if I didn’t notice the obvious lump in his pant leg. “Tell your mother hello from me. Are you going to tell her about your plan for certification?”

  “I’ll probably wait until after I’m done with the class,” he says scrunching his face. “If she gives me any shit about it, I’m going to blame it on all her sex talk. Fuck it, who cares. Either I’ll like it or I won’t. Maybe I’ll make sure I like the work before I say anything. I don’t see her very often anyway.”

  “You’re not living at home?”

  “God no. As soon as I was done with therapy, I got a place downtown. I was depressed enough without living with them for Christ sake.” He steps in front of me and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight. “Thanks for all the help. I’m excited to see how this goes. My apartment is expensive as hell, so I was wondering how I was going to consistently make the rent.”

  “You’re welcome, Rex,” I reply, feeling a smile emerge as I stand there looking up at his handsome face. “I think you’re using this as an
excuse to cop a feel aren’t you?”

  “Hey, I was kind of hoping you weren’t as firm as you look,” he replies with a tilt of his head. “Unfortunately, your body is just as rockin’ as I expected.” He steps back shaking his head. “I can only hope to find a chick who’s half as hot as you at forty.”

  “Thirty-nine.” I give him the stink eye. “Don’t ever round up when you’re talking to a woman. You’re be much better off rounding down to thirty-five.”

  He bursts out laughing. “Mom still claims that she’s thirty-nine. I told her that she can’t do that anymore since that would make my sister only thirteen years younger than her.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  “What sister? You don’t have a sister.” He continues to shake his head as he heads for the door. I’m sure he’s already seen through the fact that I’m a little older than thirty-nine myself. Where the hell does all the time go?

  Chapter 4

  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 ke
ep 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.