5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
D r. D must be thinking the same thing. His voice is overly loud in the small space. “You two are doing great,” he encourages. “Let’s not lose this momentum. Help each other take off your clothes.”
Neither of us reacts to his request. Instead, we eye each other warily. Tension rises, broken when T flicks his eyes to the speaker in the wall. “Can we—uh—can we like dim the lights or something? It’s kinda bright in here.”
He’s right, of course. It’s like a thousand suns shine down on us, with all the fluorescent lights recessed into the ceiling. It gives the room a clinical, hospital feel. Not exactly something that sparks romance.
Dr. D sounds apologetic when he responds with a hurried, “Oh! Of course. Here you go.” The lights dim, settle down to a glow. Shadows soften enough that I let my arms drop. I reach down for the zipper on my skirt, but strong fingers beat me there.
“Here.” T’s voice is husky and low. “Let me help.” There’s something sensual about how slowly he unzips me, about how he helps to shimmy my skirt over my hips and down to my ankles. I step out of it and stand only in my boots and fishnet stockings. No underwear.
T licks his lips. Unblinking, he stares at me with his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I think I dreamed about this once,” he murmurs. His voice is distant, like he’s slipped into a trance.
There’s no change in his expression or the way his eyes explore my body when I unbutton his pants and unzip him. Before I can pull them down, he knocks my hand away. Staring at the ground, his jaw tense, T mumbles, “I don’t want you to be turned off. I’m kinda big. My wife says it’s too much, that it’s…unnatural.”
A semihysterical laugh climbs my throat along with 500 sarcastic comments, but I swallow them down. He’s serious about this, insecure about his body. A tiny flare of anger lights in my chest at this unknown woman—his wife—who planted this doubt in his mind.
I hook my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tug him toward the bed. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Walking backward, I tow him along until the back of my legs hits the edge of the bed. I sit, my face at the level of his stomach. Tilting my head up to stare into T’s eyes, I pull his pants down to his knees. His erection springs free. I can see it in my peripheral vision, but I don’t look at it. Without taking my eyes off him, I lean down and take him into my mouth. T’s eyes go round with shock, then slide closed as his chest heaves. He groans, deep and guttural. That sound travels straight to my core, where wetness pools.
I have a few things I pride myself on. Singing the alphabet backward, getting a perfect score on the verbal section of the SAT, and giving mind-bending blow jobs. Even my shittiest of boyfriends have commented on how I give the best head. Full of my own confidence, I take T deep, choking a bit because, although he’s not the biggest I’ve ever had, he’s definitely in the top three. I curl my lips over my teeth so I don’t hurt him and bob up and down on his cock, letting it slide down the back of my throat with every dip of my head.
“Holy fuck.” T winds his fingers into my hair, clasping my head as I work. I brace myself, waiting for him to force me deeper, to shove my face against his nuts like so many men have done in the past, but he doesn’t. He just cups my head and brushes his thumbs over my temples in slow circles. I close my fist around his shaft and squeeze gently while my other hand comes up to cup his balls. T groans again, his body tensing like he’s close to coming. I ready myself to swallow but don’t get the chance because that’s when Dr. D interrupts.
“Let’s move on from oral sex,” he says, almost like he’s bored. “I want this session to focus on penetration as the vehicle that leads to orgasm. You’ve both reported that as your greatest challenge. Please finish undressing and then I’d like you to get in bed together.”