Used by my Therapist #2
"Jennie gave you a safe space to heal, Alice. My goal is to help you grow. To challenge you. To find out what’s hiding beneath all these quiet, protective layers."
His words carried a heavy, unspoken weight that made Alice’s breath completely catch in her throat.
Her pussy gave a sudden, sharp throb inside her cotton underwear—a hot, melting sensation she had never experienced in a therapy session before.
She looked up, her hazel eyes locking into his dark, intense gaze.
There was a sudden, suffocating layer of tension in the room, thick and magnetic, completely unbefitting of a traditional doctor-patient dynamic.
For the rest of the hour, Jonathan effortlessly guided the conversation, his charm and absolute competence slowly melting away her rigid defense mechanisms.
He didn't push her too hard, but his questions were sharp, focused, and deeply personal.
Every time his deep baritone rumbled through the quiet room, Alice felt herself warming up to him, her shyness slowly giving way to a dangerous, intoxicating obsession with the older man sitting across from her.
"Well, Alice," Jonathan said softly as the clock on his desk chimed eight. He closed his notebook and stood up, his towering frame looming over her. "That’s our time for tonight. You did exceptionally well."
Alice stood up, her legs feeling strangely weak. "Thank you, Dr. Vance. I... I actually look forward to next week."
"As do I," Jonathan murmured, his eyes darkening as they raked slowly down her proper outfit before returning to her flushed face. "Drive safe in the rain, Alice. I'll see you next Thursday."
The rain that had started as a gentle patter during Alice’s session had evolved into a violent, torrential downpour by eight o'clock. Sheet after sheet of heavy water slammed against the glass windows of the clinic, obscuring the streetlamps outside into blurry smears of yellow light.
Alice stepped out of the clinic’s front awning, pulling her heavy wool coat tightly around her shoulders.
She ran through the cold, driving deluge toward her old, beat-up sedan parked at the far end of the gravel lot.
By the time she pulled open the driver’s side door and slid onto the worn fabric seat, her chestnut hair was damp and flat against her cheeks, and the hem of her long pleated skirt was entirely soaked.
Shivering, she jammed her key into the ignition and turned it.
The engine let out a pathetic, metallic click, followed by a low, dying whine. It didn't catch. Alice’s stomach dropped. She turned the key again, pumping her foot on the gas pedal. Click. Click. Whirr. Nothing. The dashboard lights flickered weakly and died. Her battery was completely dead.
"No, no, please," Alice whispered, her hands shaking as she gripped the steering wheel. She was trapped in the dark, the windows rapidly fogging up from her breath, with the rain drumming a deafening, terrifying rhythm on the metal roof. She had no one to call.
Suddenly, a bright beam of light cut through the dark lot as the clinic’s heavy oak back door swung open.
A tall, powerful silhouette stepped out into the storm, shielded only by a large black umbrella.
It was Jonathan. He had changed out of his suit jacket, now wearing just his fitted charcoal vest over his white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal thick, hairy forearms.
He walked purposefully across the gravel, his heavy leather dress shoes splashing through the deep puddles. He tapped firmly on her driver’s side window.
Alice rolled it down a few inches, the cold rain instantly blowing into her face. "Dr. Vance," she stammered, her teeth chattering from a mix of cold and sudden, intense nerves. "My... my car won't start. I think the battery is dead."
Jonathan leaned down, his face inches from hers through the gap.
The umbrella offered little protection from the swirling wind; his dark hair was slicked back with water, droplets running down the sharp, rugged planes of his jawline and catching in his thick stubble.
His white shirt was already damp, clinging to the broad, heavy muscles of his chest.
"Pop the hood, Alice," his deep baritone rumbled, commanding and steady against the roar of the thunder overhead. "Let me take a look."
Alice fumbled in the dark, pulling the release lever.
Jonathan walked to the front of the sedan, lifting the heavy metal hood.
He worked quickly, his powerful frame bending over the engine bay as the rain drenched his back, making the thin white fabric of his dress shirt completely translucent.
Through the glass, Alice stared at him, her throat tight.
The wet cloth outlined the massive, defined contours of his back muscles and the broad expanse of his shoulders.
Her pussy gave a sharp, painful twitch inside her damp panties.
After a few minutes, Jonathan lowered the hood with a heavy thud. He walked back to her window, his dark eyes burning with a sudden, intense focus.
"The alternator belt is snapped, Alice. You're not going anywhere in this tonight," he said, his voice dropping an octave. He wiped a stream of water from his eye with his thick forearm. "Come back inside. It’s freezing out here, and you're soaking wet. You can call a tow truck from my desk."
"I don't want to trouble you, Dr. Vance," she whispered, her heart hammering violently.
"It’s no trouble. Get out of the car, Alice." It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.
Alice opened the door, stepping out into the driving rain.
Before her feet could even hit the gravel, Jonathan stepped in close, pulling her under the shelter of his large umbrella.
His massive, warm hand came around her waist, gripping her hip tightly to guide her across the slippery lot.
The physical proximity was overwhelming.
Her side was pressed entirely against his heavy, solid chest.
She could feel the intense, radiating heat of his body through his wet shirt, smelling the intoxicating mix of rain, leather, and his musky masculine cologne.
They burst through the clinic doors, dripping wet, and Jonathan locked the heavy deadbolt behind them. The silence of the indoor hallway was immediate, punctuated only by their heavy breathing.
"In here," Jonathan murmured, leading her back into his dimly lit office.
The warm amber glow of the lamps welcomed them, but the atmosphere had completely shifted from a professional office to a high-voltage trap.
Jonathan dropped his umbrella and immediately unbuttoned his soaked charcoal vest, tossing it onto his desk.
His white shirt was completely see-through now, plastered to his skin, exposing the dark hair on his chest and the thick, sculpted lines of his abdomen.
Alice stood in the center of the room, shivering violently, her hands clutching her wet coat. Her chest was heaving.
Jonathan walked over to her, his dark eyes locked onto her face with an absolute, predatory intensity. He stopped just inches away, his massive frame towering over her, completely cutting off the rest of the room. He reached out, his large, warm fingers wrapping around the wet collar of her coat.
"Let’s get this wet coat off you before you catch a cold," he murmured, his deep voice thick, vibrating right through her core.
He slowly slid the heavy wool coat off her shoulders, his knuckles deliberately brushing against the sides of her neck.
Alice let out a soft, breathy gasp, her hazel eyes locking into his dark, obsessed gaze.
They stood frozen, staring at each other in the low, golden light, the sexual tension in the room expanding until it was suffocating.
Jonathan’s eyes dropped to her lips, his jaw clenching as his breath hit her flushed cheeks.
Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.
The unspoken obsession between doctor and patient had just ignited into a roaring, uncontrollable flame, and the professional boundaries holding them apart were beginning to melt away.
By the time the next Thursday evening rolled around, the heavy, unspoken tension from the night in the rain had completely consumed Alice’s thoughts.
She hadn't slept a full night all week. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the burning imprint of Jonathan’s hand on her waist and saw the way his wet white shirt had clung to his heavy, muscular chest.
A quiet, desperate rebellion had taken root inside her. The good girl from Ohio was tired of hiding.
Standing in front of her closet, Alice deliberately bypassed her usual oversized cardigans and long wool skirts.
Instead, she selected a outfit designed to push Jonathan to his absolute limit.
She slid into a tight, silk button-down blouse in an emerald-green shade that made her hazel eyes pop.
She purposefully left the top three buttons undone, exposing a provocative glimpse of her smooth collarbones and the swelling, pale curve of her breasts.
She didn't wear a bra underneath; the fine silk brushed directly against her bare skin.
Next, she pulled on a black leather pencil skirt that hugged her hips snugly and ended well above her knees, leaving her slender, bare legs completely exposed.
She let her long chestnut hair fall completely loose, cascading over her shoulders in wild, soft waves.
When she arrived at the clinic at seven o'clock, the storm outside had cleared, leaving the night quiet, dark, and heavy. She turned the brass knob and stepped into the office without knocking.
Jonathan was sitting behind his mahogany desk, reviewing a file.
He wore a sharp, midnight blue three piece suit, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket perfectly.
But the moment Alice stepped into the warm amber glow of the room, he froze.
His dark eyes snapped up from the paperwork, and his breath audibly caught in his throat.
His gaze raked slowly, deliberately down her body.
He stared at her loose, tumbling hair, lingered heavily on the deep V of her unbuttoned green blouse where her nipples were already hardening against the sheer silk, and traced the line of her leather skirt down to her bare thighs.
Alice felt her face flush a burning, deep crimson, but she didn't shrink back.
She stood her ground, her heart hammering wildly.