Table of Contents
Psychiatrist
The interview
Shower scene
Pack, ready to go
Jordan White
The Hit
Psychiatrist
Clarissa smiled as Doctor Brett Levinson tapped his notepad with his pen, obviously deep in thought. He lifted his eyes and studied Clarissa over his bifocals. “How long has this behavior been manifesting itself, Miss Craig?”
Levinson was cute. He had salt-and pepper dark hair, greying at the temples, steel-grey eyes and strong hands. Oh shit, here we go again. Clarissa squirmed in her chair and crossed her legs as she felt the all-too-familiar tingling sensation between her legs.
She shrugged. “Since I’ve had tits, I guess.”
Levinson frowned. “Since puberty, then?”
Clarissa pursed her lips and nodded, trying to ignore the sweet sensations Levinson was stirring in her insides. “I guess.”
“Do you smoke?” Levinson asked.
Clarissa shook her head. “Never tried, never will.”
“Alcohol?” Levinson asked, glancing up from his furious scribbling.
“I have an occasional drink, but only a couple.”
Levinson put down his pen, then sat up in his chair. He studied her for a while, then said, “I need you to be brutally honest with me, Miss Craig.” He leaned forward, emphasizing his point. “Do you use drugs? I could send you for blood tests to confirm my suspicions.”
Clarissa snorted. “Drugs? C’mon doc, I need treatment for my sexual addiction, not for drugs.”
Levinson nodded slowly. “Interesting,” he said, and scribbled some more. He pressed the button on an intercom on his table. “Jess, please hold all my appointments for the next couple of hours.”
“But Mrs. Rabinovich is already here, Doctor,” came the concerned reply.
“Hold them, Jessica,” Levinson said firmly, then released the button.
Clarissa stared at Levinson, a concerned frown on her forehead. “Is it that bad, Doctor?”
Levinson smiled. “No, no. Not at all.” He slid open a drawer and dumped the notepad and pen inside. “Usually, sexual addiction is tied to other pharmaceutical dependencies, the person having an addictive personality.”
Levinson flipped opened a file on his desk and scanned the contents, slowly turning the pages as he spoke. “You exhibit no symptoms of the classical sexual addict such as voyeurism, addiction to porn, excessive masturbation...,”
“I do masturbate, Doctor,” Clarissa interrupted him.
Levinson sat back and smirked. “Everyone masturbates, miss Craig.” He leaned back in his chair. “The keyword is excessive.”
Levinson drummed his fingers on the table, studying Clarissa with a feint smile. “Your grades are excellent, you display normal social behavior,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re an interesting case.”
Clarissa sighed. “So how do I get treated for this,...problem?”
Levinson grinned. “There is no problem, Miss Craig. You’re a perfectly normal young woman with a voracious sexual appetite.” He shrugged. “As long as your actions are between two consenting adults, I see no problem.”
Clarissa raised her eyebrow. “No problem?”
Levinson nodded firmly. “Absolutely none.”
In that case, she guessed she would have to show him why she was here. Clarissa stood up and walked behind the desk, swiveling Levinson’s chair towards her. She hitched up her skirt, then straddled Levinson in his chair. “You’re so damn hot,” she said huskily.
“Miss Craig, wait...,” Levinson protested.
Clarissa removed his glasses, placed them on the table, then ran her hands through his hair. “We’ve got some time, your other appointments have been placed on hold, remember?”
Clarissa undid his zip, and his manhood bounced out eagerly. She pulled her panties to the side, then slipped his cock into her wetness, the chair creaking as she rode him slowly, gyrating her hips forward and back.
Levinson gasped, then raised himself from the chair, Clarissa clinging to him. He carried her to a leather sofa, then dropped her on top. “So that’s how you want to play the game?” he said with a grin. “Turn around, girl.”
She did as she was ordered, and leaned forward balancing with her arms on the side of the chair. Levinson lifted her dress, then tore her panties off with a quick jerk. Clarissa swallowed, lifting her bottom in eager anticipation.
Levinson dropped his pants, then pulled her toward him by her hips. She groaned as he slipped his cock back inside her. She hadn’t been with someone for close to a week, and she was wet and ready to explode. Clarissa moaned pleasurably as the Doctor pounded her shaven slit. He flicked her clit with his thumb, then massaged it as he pushed himself in deep. She came instantly, her entire body convulsing in rapturous ecstasy.
She looked back as he pulled his throbbing cock from her pussy. “On the ground like a dog, bitch.”
She kneeled on all fours, and Levinson guided his cock into her wet folds. He pushed hard and she felt her pussy pull tight as he jammed his girth inside her. She rested her head on her arms as Levinson rammed her from behind, and again she felt the familiar heat in her abdomen as her insides clamped down onto his cock. She came again, shivering as the pleasurable wave surged through her body.
Levinson pulled his cock from her, holding his throbbing manhood in his hand. “Finish me off, girl.”
She took his rod in her mouth, sucking in her cheeks, she took all of him inside, then slowly drew back, massaging his cock with her hand. Levinson grabbed the back of her head and forced himself in deeper, ramming his cock in and out faster until he groaned and the warm cum filled her mouth. He pulled his rod from her mouth as it grew limp.
“Swallow,” he ordered, pulling up his pants.
She did as she was told. She thought she was falling in love. He nodded and picked up her panties. “I’ll keep these as a momento,” he said and stuffed them inside his pocket. He strode to his desk and flopped down into the chair, then pressed the intercom buzzer. “Jess, tell Mrs. Rabinovich I’m ready for her.”
He glanced up at Clarissa. “Thank you, Miss Craig, that will be all.”
Clarissa nodded, pulling a hand through her disheveled black hair. “When is my next appointment, Doctor?” she asked with a seductive smile.
Levinson leaned back in his chair. “Oh, I don’t think you need any more, Miss Craig.” He chuckled and closed her file. “I think you’re cured.”
The interview
“Next please,” the pretty red-haired receptionist called with a smile.
The girls looked up in unison. Clarissa stood up and straightened her short pencil skirt, then stepped up to the glass door marked ‘Richard Davenport, Deputy Editor’ sandblasted into the glass.
The receptionist nodded encouragingly at Clarissa as the twenty-odd girls in the seats behind her shifted up to fill her vacancy, one tiny step closer to fulfilling their lifelong ambition of working for a major newspaper in a major city meeting super-cool people and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.
Clarissa wasn’t one of these. Sure, it would be cool to meet the rich and famous. But she wanted to screw them. Screw their brains out.
The large glass door sucked closed behind her as she strode through. A tail man with a crewcut stood up from behind a large mahogany desk and waved her forward with a smile. Clarissa walked purposefully, admiring the view over Central Park through the large glass wall behind his desk.
She strode up to the Deputy Editor of the New York Daily Tribune, and firmly shook his hand. “Pleased
to meet you, mister Davenport,” she said with a curt nod.
The man held onto her hand for a moment, examining her face, then smiled. “The pleasure is all mine, miss Craig.” He gestured towards a chair. “Please, have a seat.”
Clarissa sat down and hitched her dress a couple of inches, then folded a perfectly formed leg over the other, revealing a frilly garter strap. Works every time.
She glanced furtively around the large office. Classical music played softly in the background, and large bookshelves lined two of the walls, stacked to the brim with hundreds of books of all shapes. Some were pulled out and then haphazardly placed back on top of the others. A large Henry Moore print of three men draped in cloaks had been mounted against a wall, and a bronze bust of Mozart stood on a white pedestal next to it. There were no photos on the walls or his desk. The office felt bare.
She looked back up at Davenport and found him sitting casually on his desk, scrutinizing her, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Like what you see?”
He had piercing blue eyes and a day old stubble on his face. He wore a white, loose fitting cotton shirt and jeans, the top of the shirt unbuttoned, revealing a smooth chest.
“Definitely,” she answered without hesitation.
Davenport grinned, fine crow’s feet appearing next to his eyes as the smile spread across his face. “Good answer.”
Clarissa pouted her lips seductively, then handed a leather-bound folder to him. “My CV and portfolio of work.”
Davenport held up his hand and said, “Not necessary, you’re already hired.”
Clarissa’s head jerked up from the folder to meet his amused gaze. “But what about all the other girls?” she asked with a frown. This was new, she hadn’t flashed him a panty yet.
He shrugged. “They’re applying for a different position altogether.”
He slid off the table and ambled behind it, then pulled open a drawer and fumbled through the contents for a while. “Ah, here it is,” he said and pushed a sheet of paper across the table towards her.
She picked it up and skimmed the contents with a trained eye. Davenport had scribbled a hand-written contract, scrawled in a barely legible cursive. She swallowed and glanced up in shock, then back to the contract. Davenport was offering her a post at the paper’s financial desk. As the fucking editor.
She shook her head, unable to comprehend the words on the piece of paper. “But how...,” she stammered.
She had expected to be interviewed for a junior reporting position, a mere greenhorn, poised to fight her way up the corporate ladder. And now she was being offered a position which would have taken her years of hard work to achieve. She sat back, casting him a suspicious frown. “What’s the catch?”
Davenport leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, seemingly enjoying her confused stare. “When I saw your CV on my table, I decided you were the right person for the job.”
He leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of him, a determined look on his face. “Your article exposing the scholarship fraud was brilliant.” He grinned. “So I followed up on it and it made headline news.”
Clarissa looked up in surprise. “I thought Dan Bishop, the editor, ran with the piece.”
Davenport pursed his lips, then slowly shook his head. “That dickhead?” he said with a derisive snort. “I made the story work.” He shrugged. “And then I received a promotion from the financial desk to Deputy Editor.” His chair squeaked as he leaned back, gripping the armrests as if feeling the plush leather for the first time. “Do you want it, or not?”
Clarissa swallowed and tucked her dark fringe behind her ear. “Yes, yes, definitely...,” she stammered, trying to find the right words. “But I have no experience in any of this...,”
Davenport bounced up and extended his hand. “Then we have a deal. Don’t worry about the experience thing, I’m here to show you the ropes,” he said, then winked. “Besides, you have more talent in your left pinky than Bishop has in his entire over-inflated ego.”
“But sir, how will I...,” she said, taking his hand.
Davenport squeezed gently, then placed his other hand on top of hers. “Clarissa, I’ve seen your grades. You’re the best Princeton has to offer. You’re perfect for this job.” He leaned forward. “And you’ve got talent, I’ve read your stuff, it’s brilliant.”
She knew she was good, she refused to screw any professors for better grades. Well, not often. Clarissa swallowed and blinked twice. She didn’t even have to screw the man. “Okay, when do I start?” she asked hesitantly.
Davenport let go of her hand and smiled. “Today,” he said and marched to the door, grabbing a leather jacket from a coat stand on his way. “Follow me, I’ll give you a tour.”
Clarissa gulped, then grabbed her leather folder and trotted behind Davenport to catch up.
Shower scene
Clarissa closed her eyes and tilted her head back, allowing the water to cascade over her face and hair. Jordan was greeting the last group of friends, and she had excused herself. She was dog tired. The farewell party had been fun and Jordan had a couple of cute friends, but now she needed to feel him deep inside her.
She was glad the year was done. She had followed a grueling schedule, and she put in a lot of hard work.
And it had paid off. She had graduated summa cum laude at Princeton, top of her class. Jordan had kept her fit. He was a jock, waking her up at 5AM, three days a week for a four mile jog. Afterward they would burn more calories in bed, then off to classes. She was going to miss him and the routine she had become used to, but she had bigger fish to fry. And more men to screw.
She heard the shower door open and spun around. Jordan stood naked in the door, a boyish grin plastered on his face. “Boo.”
She punched his shoulder playfully. “You startled me.”
He was damn sexy. He didn’t have a bodybuilder’s body, but he was captain of the university water polo team, and hours of training had left him broad-shouldered and ripped.
He held up his hands in a defensive gesture, then moved closer and started kissing her shoulder, making his way down her breast. Cupping her boob, he flicked his tongue over her nipple, then nibbled it softly.
She moaned as he gave the other breast the same treatment. The warm water heated their bodies, a feint smell of sandalwood and pine needles drifting up from his skin. Clarissa shivered as she felt her nipples tighten beneath his probing tongue.
He stood up and gazed down at her for a moment, his green eyes searching her face. “I want you,” he said to her, then he slowly kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers, then gently biting her lower lip with his teeth. “Don’t go,” he mumbled, letting her lip go reluctantly.
She looked up at him, wrapping her arm around his neck and placing one hand on his face and kissed him passionately. She wanted him too and began to feel a gentle tingle between her legs as her desire for him grew. They pulled each other in tightly, opening their mouths longingly and aggressively receiving each other’s tongues.
Clarissa gently fondled him, massaging his sack and then knelt down in front of him, and flicked her tongue over his head. His cock grew as she took his shaft completely into her mouth. Jordan groaned as she hollowed her cheeks and slowly drew his length through her lips, then sucked him back in. His hips moved with the motion of her head, first slowly and gently, then more firmly as he held the back of her head with both hands.
Clarissa allowed his shaft to slide in and out of her mouth, massaging his sack with her one hand as she yanked his cock rhythmically with the other. He started ramming his hips forward, fucking her mouth urgently, tremors running down his legs.
“Shit Clarissa, wait, not yet...,” he groaned.
She glanced up at him and grinned, then blew softly on his swollen head.
He smiled back and gently pulled her up. “Your turn.”
Jordan bent down and gave her a long lick from the bottom of her shaven slit,
his tongue probing, pleasurably darting in and out of her folds and circling her clit. She shuddered and groaned, grabbing his hair. “Oh, don’t stop,” she gasped.
She let out a sharp moan as he licked again, and she lifted her leg as he pulled it over his shoulder to give him full access. He sucked on her and flicked his tongue around her clit, then slid two fingers inside her and pushed his tongue down hard on her pleasure point. She couldn’t bear it any longer. “I need you to fuck me now,” she said, shivering in anticipation.
“Turn around,” he said huskily, standing up, his erect cock bouncing up and down as the blood throbbed through it.
She felt Jordan’s hands on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and smiled as he pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently kissing her on the shoulder, massaging her buttocks with his erect manhood, teasing her by pushing it between the cleft of her buttocks, rubbing it up and down.
Comforting steam billowed around them as he reached over her shoulder for a bottle of oil warmed up from the heat of the shower. He moved behind her again as she closed her eyes and tilted her head forward.
He delicately pushed her hair to the side as he poured warm oil down her back and massaged it in, rubbing her back and shoulders tenderly. His hands traced their way down her spine and he slid one hand along her lower back, over her bottom and then down between her legs. He massaged her, working his fingers in and out of her as she moaned with pleasure.
“Oh, fuck me Jordan,” Clarissa groaned. “I need you inside me.”
“Relax,” he breathed, his voice deep and passionate.
Jordan wrapped his arm around her waist and the other was fondling her, deep inside. She leaned back on to his shoulder, turning her head to the side, opening her mouth to kiss him. She felt his stiff manhood bulge against her buttocks, only increasing her desire for him.
“Must you leave?” he asked softly, gently kissing her.
Clarissa swallowed hard. “Make love to me,” she whispered, urging him, almost whimpering. “Please make love to me,” she pleaded. Her insides were now throbbing, and she was unable to bear the urgent need she felt for him. She leaned forward, placed her hands flat against the tiled wall, shifted her feet apart and lifted her bottom, inviting him in.
Expose - Episode 1 (Adult Erotic Romance and Sex) Page 1
