Chapter 3
Today’s dress is shorter than last week’s.
Did I go and buy it specifically for today? Yes. Yes I did. Because there’s something wrong with me and I’m pretty sure therapy is only making it worse.
Yes, I talked to Dr. John more than I meant to. Yes, I told him things that I would much rather keep bottled up. But I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to be having me masturbate while I do that. He’s sure as hell not supposed to tell me that he’ll let me blow him if I have another good session.
I should report him to the board.
But I’m not going to do that.
Because for some reason, I crave what he’s doing to me.
Or else I wouldn’t keep going back. And the dress I bought for today wouldn’t be so short. Or strapless. No bra again. I am wearing underwear, but only because I’m a little afraid of leaking arousal down my legs if I don’t.
Just driving to my appointment turns me on, because I can’t stop imagining how things might go. What he might do.
He might actually touch me this week. If I’m blowing him, he’ll pretty much have to, right? I want him to touch me. Which is humiliating. He’s at least twice my age even if he is a total Zaddy. And he’s my therapist. It’s so fucked up, and that just makes me want it more.
Have I fantasized about blowing him?
Yeah, I have.
I don’t even like giving blowjobs, but it doesn’t matter.
It’s not about that.
What is it about?
I’m not entirely sure. I just know that I want it. Crave it. I want Dr. John’s dick in my mouth. And not just in my mouth, but that’s where I can at least start.
Just like my last two sessions, Dr. John is sitting behind his desk when I come in. He’s not looking up at me. I wonder if I walked in buck-ass naked he would look up. Maybe not, unless he can see me out of the corner of his eye. Besides, I doubt I would get past the receptionist.
Unfortunately.
Just once, it would be nice to get under his skin.
“Good afternoon, Traci, you can go ahead and have a seat.” He gestures at the couch without looking up. I don’t huff this time, I just walk over to the couch and sit down. I’m a little nervous, if I’m being totally honest. Do I want to suck his dick?
Yes.
Am I also freaking out at the idea?
Also yes.
I still want it. Just looking at him now, my tongue moves around inside my mouth, wondering how he’ll taste.
How big he’ll be. I press my legs together as my whole body tingles while I stare at him and he finishes writing whatever he’s working on.
It’s not that he’s ignoring me exactly, it’s that he’s so focused on what he’s doing that there’s none of his attention left for me…
until he looks up and I become the singular point of his focus.
My breath freezes in my lungs as his gaze moves over my body, taking in the strapless top of my dress and the shortness of my skirt. There’s something about him that makes my brain stutter.
He gets to his feet, picking up his clipboard, and moves to his usual seat, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.
There’s a smoothness to the way that he moves that’s almost predatory, and even though there’s still a low coffee table between us, it’s not the same as when he was behind his desk.
The desk was much more of a barrier between us.
“Pull your top down.” The casual way he gives the order, expecting me to do as he says, makes my cheeks flame.
For a brief moment I consider balking, but if I do, maybe I won’t get to suck his dick. If I’m going to see how far he’ll go with this, I have to play the game.
I tug the strapless top of my dress down over my breasts, revealing them to him.
Not that they’re anything new. He’s seen them two weeks in a row now.
Dr. John doesn’t even look at them, his gaze focused on me, watching my face as I expose myself to him for the third week.
It feels like my cheeks are on fire from blushing.
“Pull up your skirt to your waist.”
I wriggle on the couch as I pull the fabric out from under my ass and pull my skirt up.
“Take off the panties.”
I’ve never had anyone boss me around like this before and I sure as hell never expected to like it.
It’s a little awkward, taking them off from a seated position, trying to still look sexy as I do so.
They dangle from my fingers as I pause, unsure of what to do with them.
The crotch is clearly wet from my arousal, which makes me blush even harder.
“Put them on the couch beside you.”
I set them down.
“Now, lean back against the couch with your hands behind your head. Spread your legs open. Wider.” His gaze never leaves my face as he instructs me to take the most humiliating, open position of my life.
My hands behind my head thrust my breasts forward even though I’m leaning back.
The position of my body and how wide apart my legs are mean that my pussy is spread wide as well, giving him a perfect view of my slick folds.
The leather couch feels almost sticky under my slightly damp skin, making it impossible for me to wriggle the way I want to.
“Good girl.”
Heat flushes through me for an entirely different reason than embarrassment. The arousal that curls through my core makes me want to press my legs together to relieve the throbbing between my thighs, but I don’t move.
“Now then,” he says. “Let’s pick up where we left off.”
“Great,” I manage to reply, my voice laced heavily with sarcasm. Because everyone loves re-living their middle school experiences, right?
It is easier to get through it with his gaze occasionally flicking to my breasts and my spread pussy.
Easier for me to sink into a state where I just answer his questions, more focused on my body than on the pathways he’s leading me down.
I don’t care what he wants to talk about, I just want to get to the good part.
Finally he gets that tone in his voice that indicates he’s wrapping up the session. My eyes dart over to the clock. There’s at least fifteen minutes left.
My mouth is suddenly watering.
“I think that’s it for today, Traci.” The edges of Dr. John’s lips curl up in a small, approving smile that makes my whole body tingle.
He twists slightly in his seat, to put his clipboard on the desk, and then faces me again.
“Come here.” I start to get to my feet but he shakes his head and I freeze. “No, crawl to me.”
Crawl to him? Crawl to him? He has to be fucking kidding me.
But he’s not. He’s looking at me just as calmly, just as confident as ever. My heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of my chest from aroused anger. One of his eyebrows raises, waiting to see what I’m going to do.
Fine.
He thinks I’m bluffing? I’m fucking not.
Cheeks aflame again, I lean forward on the couch to get onto my hands and knees on the ground. My breasts hang down beneath me, swaying as I start to crawl to him. My head up, I stare back at him, letting him know he doesn’t cow me, even if I am crawling.
The heat in his eyes sends a matching surge through mine as his smile grows, just a touch more.
He leans back in his chair as I approach, spreading his legs so I can kneel between them.
There’s a massive bulge at the front of his pants and my gaze drops from his face to his erection, and I can’t look away.
“Undo my belt.”
My hands tremble as I reach for the silver buckle, my arms brushing against the throbbing cock beneath the fabric.
“Unbutton my pants. Now the zipper. Take out my cock.”
His voice is so hypnotic, I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, and so it’s almost a shock to feel his hot, hard cock against my palm. He’s big. Bigger than any man I’ve ever been with.
“Worship my cock with your mouth, Traci.”
Heat and need surge in me at his words and I press my legs together.
Bending my head down, I start to lick. He leans back against the chair, so I can’t see his face, like he’s totally relaxed.
The meaty taste of him against my tongue isn’t enough and I move to the head, sliding my lips over the velvet tip and feeling a flutter of excitement as he finally makes a noise of pleasure.
His hands are on the arms of the chair, resting, relaxed. Unlike me. I’m so wound up, I’m squirming as I suck the mushroom head of his dick into my mouth, flicking my tongue against the little opening. The sweet-salt flavor of his precum makes me crave him more.
One hand on the base of his cock, I slide my mouth over him, taking him in deeper. Feeing his length gliding over my tongue. The need pulsing inside me is impossible to ignore and I shove my free hand between my legs. The slick wetness of my pussy coats my fingers.
“No, Traci. Put your other hand on my thigh.”
I whine around his cock. How could he even see what I’d done?
His head is still tipped back, he’s not looking at me, but somehow he knew.
I don’t want him to tell me to stop, so I move my hand to his thigh.
If he’s bothered by feeling the arousal on my fingers now cold and wet against his leg, he doesn’t show it.
I squirm even harder, pressing my thighs together, as I start to bob my head up and down, taking out my sexual frustration on his dick with my mouth. He groans, thrusting up against my hand around his base, trying to get deeper into my mouth. The noise makes me even more determined.
I don’t know if I’m worshipping his cock, but I’m sucking it for all I’m worth, absolutely desperate to pleasure him… to please him. He groans again, his dick flexing against my hand, and I hum around him, using my tongue to the best of my ability.
Then his head lifts up and he sits up enough to take hold of my hair with one hand, holding me in place on his cock as he gets to his feet. Now I’m on my knees, his hand in my hair, and he’s staring down at me with naked lust in his eyes. I almost feel faint under his intense, aroused scrutiny.
My jaw is starting to ache a little, but I don’t care. I whimper around his cock, because he’s holding me in place, not letting me continue.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Traci,” he says. His voice is the same as always, but his eyes are burning hot. “You have my permission to try and get yourself off. But if you’re going to come, you have to do it before I do.”
What the fuck?
But it’s hot as hell.
He nods his head. “Hands down. I just want your mouth now.”
My hand drops away from his cock, and trepidation creeps through me, because I’m not sure how much of his dick I can get in my mouth. Not that I’m getting a choice, really. His hand tightens in my hair and he thrusts forward as he uses my hair to pull me toward him.
The thick length of his cock stretches my jaw open, pushing in far deeper than I’d been going on my own, making me gag as it hits the back of my throat.
My eyes water, but he doesn’t stop, he just pulls halfway out and then thrusts in again, watching me with an almost fierce expression on his face.
I whimper around his dick as he thrusts again, and shudder as my fingers find my pussy.
I have to come before him, if I’m going to come.
The sensation of my fingers rubbing over my clit is electric.
I don’t care that I can barely breathe.
I don’t care that he’s fucking my mouth so hard that my breasts are bouncing.
I don’t care that I’m choking and gagging as he batters the back of my throat with his dick.
All that matters is the need that’s pulsing between my legs, my fingers rubbing against my clit as I try to assuage that need.
Tears are spilling over and rolling down my cheeks, but I’m so caught in a haze of lust that I don’t care.
I’m rubbing harder and harder, becoming more and more dizzy as he forces his dick down my throat over and over again, cutting off my airway each time.
The pleasure is growing higher and higher, and I scream around his cock as my ecstasy peaks. The intensity of my orgasm would have made me fall over without his hand in my hair.
Through the waves of erotic rapture, I can feel his cock thrusting forward, all the way down my throat.
His hand cups over the back of my head, holding me in place and I can feel him pulse against my tongue.
I’m too dazed to try and resist as he begins to come, my throat working automatically to swallow him, because it was that or drown.
His groans drown out my muffled whimpers as I start to fight to pull back, my need for air overcoming my desire to please him.
My hands come up to push against his thighs, but I’m too weak, and he holds me in place for several seconds longer as he finishes emptying himself down my throat.
When he pulls away, my throat feels raw, burning, and my stomach churns as little black spots dance across my vision.
I gasp for breath through swollen lips, swaying slightly on my knees.
It was the most intensely erotic moment of my life so far.
“Not bad,” Dr. John says, reaching down to give my breast a fondle. He tweaks my nipple, which makes me startle and start to come back to myself. Then he pats me on the head before tucking his softening dick back into his pants and beginning to do them back up. “We’ll work on it.”
Shame rushes through me, though it does nothing to dispel the heat.
“No masturbating between now and your next appointment, Traci. I’ll see you next week.”
Jumping to my feet, I yank up the top of my dress to cover my tits, the one that he touched still feeling sensitive and tingly. Without looking at him, I rush for the door.
Once again, I find myself in the bathroom down the hall, rubbing myself to a second orgasm, though it’s not nearly as powerful as the one I had in his office with his cock down my throat. The feeling of shame within me is nearly as intense as the ecstasy.
I stare at myself in the mirror as I wash my hands. My face is flushed. My lips redder than normal. My hair mussed. My hard nipples are visible through the fabric of my dress.
It’s only then that I realize I’ve left my underwear in his office.
I already know I’m not going to go back and ask for them right now.
Maybe I’ll find the courage when I come back next week.