Free Goody Two Shoes by Laura Cooper Page A

people, Tara.  I’d like to know what interests you .”
    Vagina has a list and she’s waving her paper in the air frantically.  I ignore her.
    I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair, “So I’m to be broken and rebuilt in order to make myself successful and happy?”
    Jonathon’s small laugh crackles, “Darling, if you still believe that is it in a nutshell when this is over then I’m a miserable failure.”  His face becomes deadpan serious, “Your previous concepts regarding your body will be transformed; things you believe are taboo will become second nature.  You will become so utterly confident in your every action that everyone around you will sense your power.  They’ll want to emulate your kindness and control.  My job is to start you on this path.  To begin this process with you if you choose?”
    “And you believe that the restraints of society keep people from succeeding?  Excuse me for saying so, Jonathon, but the news is full of folks who break free from society and succeed.  It’s not exactly a novel concept!”
    “Right, that’s exactly what I mean.  Those people have found the key they need to break free of what society tells them they can accomplish.  I’m telling you that I have the key to what is restraining your marriage, and I’d like to give it to you.”
    I grin, “I’m sure you would!”
    Jonathon grins, tolerating me, “You are quite charming Mrs. Townsend; it’s evil of you truly.  But let’s move to brass tacks.  When is the last time you made love to your husband?”
    This is fairly personal information and I don’t like to express my failures, yet something in his demeanor eliminates my wall of insecurity.  I sigh, “Almost a year.”
    “He isn’t very sexual?”
    “I wouldn’t say that,” I quickly respond.  “For years he commented about wanting me to be more sexual.  At the time I felt he was being insensitive.  I was raising toddlers, heading to the PTA, and washing snot out of pajama sleeves.  Trust me, it’s hard to feel sexy when you have throw up on your breasts.”
    His blue eyes shoot sparks of sincere interest, “And you’ve considered an affair?”
    I’m not proud of my answer.  “Yes… I have.”  I’m kind of considering it right now.  “But honestly, I’m a middle aged woman.  Who would want me?  It isn’t like I can go clubbing anymore.  Hell I might run into my kids!”
    He smiles indulgently, “You can trust me when I say you are far from unattractive.”  He shifts in his seat so that I can see hardness beneath the pressed khaki of his slacks.  He reaches towards a tray and pours two glasses of what looks like might be Kentucky bourbon, ignoring the fact that I have a Red Bull and Vodka in front of me.
    Sliding one towards me on the desk he smiles, “Okay.  If you are interested, I think we can move forward.  However, you need to be aware that once we start the training we don’t want you having sexual relations with your husband.  We find the lessons move faster that way.”
    “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
    “Alright then, anything else?”
    “Okay.  Lemme see if I understand this… Your club is about teaching me to overcome whatever notions I have about what is sexually normal.  I’m going to get in touch with my sexuality, minus guilt?  And you accomplish this by treating me like a slut?”  I knew I was stalling; terror was written on my face.
    “See, there you go.  The word slut is another negative connotation promoted by people who don’t know better.  This is about breaking down your inhibitions, allowing you to fully enjoy sexuality without guilt.  This is about pleasure, and finding pleasure in everything you do.  The training is a little more than most women can handle at first.  That’s why your sponsor, in your case Patty, will be nearby to ensure your comfort level.  If at any time you want out, you simply tell her so.  I’ll warn you that you are going to sign a very