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It was desire that moved us. It motivated us. And gave us direction. And in that desire, there was purpose, one not always met with meaning.
Yet the yearning, that burning sensation, that thirst for fulfillment, could oftentimes become consuming and overwhelming.
Oh, yes. Desire.
It could be dirty. It could be sinful. It could be as painful as it was pleasurable.
And Dr. Dangerfield knew that, in excess, desire could ultimately become greed. And greed (the pursuit of new desires) was destructive. It was insatiable. It was damaging to any relationship—healthy or not—if not tempered by self-restraint and boundaries. It prevented partners from enjoying one another, fully, wholly, without limits, without shame, without regret.
It was greed that kept partners lying and scheming and cheating on one another. And it was repressed urges that kept men and women hiding behind masks, living double lives.
Not all. Many.
Dr. Dangerfield believed that sometimes you had to surrender to your desires. Indulge yourself. With the one you loved, the one you committed yourself to.
What healthy relationships needed was for both parties to be the object of their partner’s desires. Sadly, most weren’t. Most were distracted by the yearnings for everything else except for what was already standing before them—their partners.
And, today, Dr. Dangerfield planned to explore the innermost desires of the women. If they were ready and able to be honest—first, with themselves; and then here—then they could work toward being more open and honest with their husbands about what their sexual needs were. What they desired most.
Dr. Dangerfield didn’t believe women should have to sublimate their desire, their pleasure to the pleasures of the men in their lives.
No. A woman’s desires were real. They were alive. And they evolved.
Sadly, many women didn’t know what they truly desired . . . for themselves.
She took in the three women seated in the four-chair circle. The room was alit with coconut-scented candles. The atmosphere was relaxed, for the moment. But Dr. Dangerfield was no fool. She knew all too well that today’s session could evoke defenses and flare tempers. Someone was bound to become judgmental and/or belligerent. Someone always did.
“I wish this island had better cell service,” Brenda randomly stated.
Dr. Dangerfield nodded, knowingly. Having a weak signal meant being forced to focus on their partners and their marriages more than making phone calls or connecting on social media. It was by design. The whole point of being on a remote island was to get away from day-to-day stressors and distractions.
LaQuandra laughed. “Hell, I’m glad there’s shitty service. That makes it harder for Isaiah’s trifling-ass baby mother to reach him.”
Brenda laughed along. “Girrrl. I’m so glad I don’t have one of those to deal with.”
“Lucky you,” LaQuandra stated flatly. “That bitch irks my soul.”
“Ladies,” Dr. Dangerfield said gently. “Let’s refrain from using the B-word, especially when referring to another woman.”
LaQuandra rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s what she is. But okay.”
Dr. Dangerfield forced a smile. She wanted to find something likeable about this woman, but so far the only thing she liked was the silver cuff bracelet on her wrist.
“I’ll thank you now for your efforts,” Dr. Dangerfield said to LaQuandra. She shifted in her seat, then crossed her right leg over her left. “Today, the focus is on each of you. I want to tap into your desires. Hidden or not. They can be as filthy or as slutty as you want them to be. The purpose here is to get you talking about them, without shame, without guilt, without ridicule. To embrace your sexual desires, own them, without justification.”
Dr. Dangerfield glanced around the small circle of women taking in their facial expressions. Krista met her gaze with a blank look on her face, while Brenda and LaQuandra looked eager to share.
“How about we start with you, Mrs. Woods?” she suggested.
Brenda smiled. Good. She couldn’t wait to share one of her sexual fantasies. She was in touch with her wants and needs and desires, so sharing was fine with her.
She’d indulged in a ménage à trois, once. She’d offered Roselle another woman in their bed—a sexy Latina with big, bouncy tits and thick hips, who’d done nasty things to the both of them with her tongue.
She wanted more. More tongues. More hands. More fingers.
“I fantasize about being in an orgy,” Brenda shared.
“Okay,” Dr. Dangerfield said. “Tell us what is happening in this orgy.”
