The Art of Compassion
Our world is fragmented by sex. Some see sex as a taboo, for others it is a tool, yet others see sex as a weapon, an excuse to subjugate and even kill for family honor. Sex can be frightening in some ways for all of us. My character Amber Lloyd uses her compassion for people to treat the sexual dysfunction she finds in her fellow man, or men as was the case with her five House Mother partners.
Some of the people in her story are on the outer fringe of their particular sexual issue, but we have all been there to a lesser degree and have all known people, friends, relatives and neighbors whose lives were a torment because of sexual frustration. From the housewife who is lured into an affair because of physical or emotional abuse or even boredom, to the single man or woman afraid to commit to a loving relationship, we have all known their fears, and we have all felt their pain.
Amber sees life through a lens of empathy and tries to fix the people she helps with her own brand of sexual therapy. Sometimes it works and sometimes it goes very wrong, but her motives are always pure, and even when her process fails she manages to turn her good intentions into something positive.
This novel is the first in a trilogy and the beginning of Amber's journey into the world of sexual surrogacy.
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Blurb:
But as Amber quickly finds out, a young woman making it alone in a new city is much more expensive than she initially thought, and with no work experience, her options are limited. When an unusual job offer presents itself, Amber is hesitant, but her financial situation leaves her with few other choices.
Amber soon finds herself living the life of luxury as House Mother to five middle-aged men, but what initially seemed to be a straightforward contract turns out to be more complicated than she bargained for as each of the men comes with his own set of sexual problems. Is Amber in over her head or has she found her true calling?
House Mother is a crazy ride into the world of sexual dysfunction told first-person by a woman with compassion and empathy for her clients. Some are more damaged than others, but they all have one thing in common - they all need the unique services provided by the House Mother.
“I think you have the wrong idea about me. I’m not what you think I am. Contract aside, I’m not a woman of loose moral character.”
“But you agreed to have sex with us.”
“Yes, I did, but only with the five of you—no one else. I’m not for sale. I don’t screw around. I was married, and before this week the only man I agreed to have sex with was my husband.”
“Jason told us.”
“Did he tell you my husband was mentally abusive? That he made me feel worthless, and that I believed I was worthless. When you guys made me this crazy offer, I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to put me up in an apartment like this and treat me like a queen. Who would want to do that for a worthless nobody like me? You guys made me feel wanted, loved even, and I like it. I don’t want to be your whore. I’d rather be your friend.”
“But you agree to have sex with us.”
“Yes. Is that what you want, Al? Just sex? If that’s all there is in it for you, I’ll take off this dress and you can bend me over the dining room table and have at it. Is that what you want?” I undid the top of my dress.
“No, it’s not what I want.”
“What then, Al? You wrote up the contract. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know what I want from you,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“I want to be someone you care about. Someone who makes love to you. Someone who makes you feel good about yourself and someone you can be yourself with—no pretenses. That’s what I want.”
“That’s asking a lot.”
“I know it is,” I said, standing and moving to the couch next to him.
“Would you like to kiss me?”
“Is that part of the deal?”
“Al—fuck the deal and kiss me,” I demanded.
He reached toward me tentatively, and I took his face in my hands and gave him an open mouth suck his breath away tongue lashing wet one. Al stiffened up and pulled back like I was trying to rape him. I took his hand and put it to my chest, and he left it there lifeless. I reached back and undid the clasp holding the top of my dress together. When it was undone I let it fall from the front of me, baring my breasts to my wide eyed Jewish attorney.
Al snatched his hand back and looked at my bare breasts like they were one eyed alien creatures come to enslave and destroy mankind. This was feeling too much like work, and I was hoping once I had Al’s cock in my mouth he would loosen up a little.
I reached for his belt buckle and he protested. “No please,” he said, pushing my hands away. I was determined to fix this repressed man, and I got his belt undone, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. I reached into his shorts and grabbed hold of his well-proportioned circumcised penis—I was right! Then, just as I was about to go down on him with my hungry mouth, his cum shot up and spattered across my face. My left eye had a sticky veil of white goo across it. His second spurt went right up my nose. His third jet caught me above my forehead and landed mostly in my hair. This guy could sure come a lot. I never imagined so much stuff coming out of a single set of balls.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, wiping the cum from my eye with his monogrammed silk hankie. He was beside himself and almost in tears.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he kept saying.
“It’s okay, Al. You did nothing wrong.”
Author bio:
Amber Lloyd is my pen name but for me it's much more than that. It's often hard to separate the author Amber Lloyd from the character I write about in my books. My life is so different from Amber's that when I was asked to produce a Bio for my books I was torn between the one I created for my alter ego and my real life. When I compared the two I realized that no one would be the least bit interested in the one over the other so I wrote what you see below. I will let you decide which one you think I chose.
I was born and raised in a small town in upstate New York called Monticello. It's mostly a farm community and if you didn't know the true latitude, you would think you were somewhere in the deep south. The city is a bastion of country western music complete with men in cowboy hats and women wearing jeans and shit kicking boots.
I was a gawky kid who loved climbing trees and riding horses. My parents were not country people. They lived in the city and worked as marketing specialists. My dad groomed me to join them in their business and convinced me to pursue a college course that would introduce me to the world of marketing. They wanted me to stay close by and apply to SUNY at New Paltz but I had a different idea. I chose the only college a good distance away from Hee Haw New York that would accept my less than stellar high school grades and SAT scores.
The College I chose was in Kansas where I met my husband. Ron was a year ahead of me and when he graduated, he convinced me to move to Oklahoma and become his wife. The marriage didn't work out for either of us. Unlike the character in my book, Ron is a good guy, but I don't think I ever loved him. We had very different ideas about life and love and it was more my faults and issues than his that destroyed our relationship.
My move to Florida was not as much an escape as a running home to my parents who had moved from New York to Clearwater. My tom-boy youth took over and I got a job as a deputy Sheriff. I lived with my parents for several years until I could get my own place. I manage to sprinkle some of my law enforcement experience into my books and base some of my characters on people I met or had to deal with on the job. My descriptions of Amber's escape and the rest of the story is my fictional account of what I imagined would have happened if I was her, but alas I am me, and all I get to do is write about her exciting life as the House Mother.
You can find me at: http://amberlloyd.com
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