Well, there are definitely two fantasies here for me. Therapy at my house and therapy at T's house.

Fantasy #1.
Therapy at T's House
I show up before he even gets home and get rid of the wife. No one will notice she's gone. Then I hide in the bushes til T comes home. Then I ring the doorbell and he answers it with the most pleasant smile ever, and invites me in. We immediately go into his study (assuming he has one) which is filled with every interesting book imaginable. He brings me coffee (doesn't have to ask how I like it-- he just knows). We hang out in his study for hours and talk about everything. As a service, I go into his closet and get rid of any ugly shirts that he may own. While he's in the bathroom, I go through his underwear drawer to put a rest to the question we have all been burning to know. We move the livingroom. We sit on the couch. He lets me put my head on his shoulder.

Fantasy #2
Therapy at My House
My house is fairly clean and neat so I wouldn't have to do much cleaning up. I would make sure to put my most intelligent and best books on the shelf in the livingroom. I would have classical music playing in the background, but not from one of the composers he has given me-- something different-- something a bit more rare so that he would have to say, "What's this?" and I could tell him about it. Hubby would get kicked out of the house for awhile. As soon as T came over I would have to introduce him to the birds because I know he'd be excited to meet them. That's when things would begin to go downhill. My birds are the sweetest most amazing creatures, but they are not the biggest fans of strangers, especially Kiwi. Kiwi would begin to scream in his loudest voice possible. This would get the other birds going. They would be running back and forth in their cages. I would take one of the birds out to show T how tame he is and as soon as T made a move towards the bird he would probably jump and scare the hell outta T. T would run downstairs in a hysterical fit of fear with a bird attached to his back. He would never come back again.

I would much rather have therapy at T's house.