by Ws Greer
I’ve always been fairly quiet when having sex. I think a million things, but I don't say much. But, when you're going through a rut sexually, it forces you to reevaluate things a bit. My night has been filled with a million “What ifs,” and now I have a few more to add. What if I told Becky how much I want her? What if I told her how much I adore her and want to please her? What if I told her how obsessed I am with making her happy? Making her satisfied.? What if I told her?
I don't know how sexy that is, but when I informed Dr. Colson what happened when Becky and I had sex on the couch, he praised me for telling Becky that I wanted her to come. Becky didn't seem to mind either, because if I hadn't told her that, she surely would've gotten up and walked away, and we would've been right back to where we were when all this started. Maybe I'm not ready to tell Becky absolutely everything in my head just yet, but this can be a great first step—another breadcrumb left by Dr. Colson that could lead me to where I want to go with Becky.
“I’ve been waiting to come into this room with you all night,” I say into Becky’s ear, testing the waters. I kiss her neck again to let her know that although this is new, I’m serious.
“What?” she replies, taken aback.
“I’ve been waiting to come into this room with you all night long.” I say again, feeling more confident the second time. I realize now, that communicating honestly is the best form of communication, and doing it makes me feel brand new. Nothing gives you confidence in speaking like knowing you're telling the truth.
“You have?” Becky asks. She leans her head to the side, granting me access to her bare neck.
“Yes, I have,” I reply. “You're my everything, Becky. My entire world, and right now, all I want to do is make you feel it. I want you to feel how much I love you, and I don't want to stop until you sense it in the crevices of your toes. I want you. Can I have you?”
I don't even know where the words came from. Maybe it’s all the therapy and having to open up to Dr. Colson these past couple of weeks, but whatever it is, it feels good to speak the truth. Now, all that’s left is waiting for Becky’s response.
I feel Becky pull her body forward, stepping out of my embrace, and my heart gets that sinking feeling like the plunge on a rollercoaster. She steps away, before turning around and looking at me. She has a surprised expression, but I can tell it’s a pleasant surprise. Her mouth is turned into a passionate, eager smile, and to my own surprise, Becky steps forward and kisses me. Her tongue dances across mine before escaping my mouth as she looks at me.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you talk like that before,” she says, still smiling. I smile, too. “Yes, you most definitely can have me. Don't wait another second.”
18
~ Sean ~
I’m not sure what's gotten into me tonight. Maybe it’s just a buildup of everything coming to a head. Maybe it’s Becky’s phone vibrating earlier, and the intense insecurity I felt when I thought it was Dr. Bishop on the other end. It’s the therapy and the emotion and the idea that I could lose Becky because of this. It’s everything all at once, and it multiplies in my stomach, creating a hot lava ready to spew out of my body in the form of raw passion.
Becky and I stand chest to chest and kiss. I feel the heat between us as we breathe into each other’s mouths and let our tongues make love to each other like our bodies will in just a minute. There's nothing but lust and passion in our mouths as we kiss like teenagers. It’s what we need.
After being together for a long time, it’s easy to forget the craving and thirst you once had for each other. Over time, the heat starts to die down between you without anyone noticing, and before you know it, you're not even attracted to each other in the way you once were. You’ve gotten used to each other, and grown complacent. You're roommates instead of an intimate couple. It’s best to allow yourselves to act like teenagers every once in a while, to remind you of what attracted you to your significant other in the first place. Right now, we’re not Becky and Sean, the medical professionals of Bayhealth Hospital. We’re just two people who are hot for each other, and all I want is to keep it going like this forever.
After we kiss, I place my hands on Becky’s hips and spin her around again. She gasps, and I feel a sudden jolt of excitement in knowing I’m doing things that catch her off guard. The way I’m feeling tonight, she’s in for a world of surprise.
I kiss Becky on her neck over and over again, and she switches her hair to one side so I can work my way down. I kiss her shoulder while squeezing her body like a massage. She moans in front of me as I drop to one knee and pull her pants down inch by inch. The more of her skin I see, the hornier I become. I’ve never wanted to please her so much. I’ve never wanted to hear her scream my name more than I do right now.
I pull Becky’s pants down to her knees, and kiss her ass and hips while I pull her panties down to meet her pants. Once they’re down, I push Becky forward towards the bed.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her, although my voice and the words sound like they're coming from someone else. “Get on the bed. On your knees. Let me taste you, baby.”
Becky doesn't speak, she just sucks in a gasp of air again. If I could read minds, I’d bet she’s wondering who’s behind her right now, because this is so obviously not my normal routine. Tonight, I refuse to wonder if she’s thinking about Dr. Bishop. Dr. Colson is right. I can’t control her thoughts. Then again, I can control her thoughts if I fuck her senseless and make sure she’s thinking of only me. How can Becky think of another man if I’m the one fucking her like a porn star, making her scream my name at the top of her lungs?
Becky listens to me and kneels on the bed, and in front of me is her tight little ass and her beautiful wet pussy. My cock is already rock hard, but seeing Becky bent over in front of me with her pants and panties at her knees sends me to another level, and things only get more intense when I lean forward and plunge my tongue into Becky’s pussy. She chirps at the sensation, and I push my way forward, trying to reach as far as I can with my tongue.
“Jesus Christ!” Becky shouts, and I think this might be the first time I’ve heard her scream that. I could burst from all the excitement I feel. I want to tell her how aroused I am by her, but it’s hard to talk with my tongue so deep inside of her.
I move my tongue like I’m using it to search for something I need in my life, and Becky writhes. I have to grab her ass with both hands just to keep her in place. I squeeze her and use the grip to pull her closer to me. My tongue becomes a shovel, digging deeper and deeper into her. I feel her wetness all over my mouth and face, but I’m unbothered because it just tells me how much Becky’s loving what I’m doing. Just like Dr. Colson said, I’m paying attention to Becky’s signs, and I can tell I’m doing it right. Wetness like this can’t be wrong.
“Sean,” Becky calls for me, commanding my attention. “Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me right now.”
There’s no need to say anything. Listening to Becky’s request, I hop to my feet, pull down my pants, revealing the most intense erection of my life. My cock is thick with blood and veins, and I swear it’s like I never masturbated just a few hours ago. When I push my dick into Becky, it feels just as fantastic as it always does, if not better. Both of us gasp this time, amazed at how good it feels.
“Oh my God, Sean,” Becky whispers once I’m fully inserted. “Yeah, give it to me, baby.”
That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I let the pressure and anxiety from the past few weeks explode out of me as I grab Becky’s ass for leverage and begin fucking her. Her body jerks forward with each powerful stroke, and she lets out a small, high-pitched squeal each time I slam into her.
“Oh, God yes!” she exclaims, which only fuels me.
I started off going as deep as I could, but now I choose to change it up. I begin fucking Becky hard. I pound into her like I’m trying to knock any ideas of Dr. Bishop right out of her mind and onto the floor. Our bodies slap together, and I think th
e sound actually echoes off the walls. For the first time in our relationship, I let go of the idea that I have to make love to Becky.
Tonight, I don't want to make love to her. Tonight, I’m fucking her like I don't even love her. I fuck her like we just met and there's nothing but lust between us. I fuck her like I’ll respect her only after it’s over. I fuck Becky like I’m trying to make sure she remembers me forever, because this is a one-night stand. I want her sore tomorrow, to remind her of what I did. When Dr. Bishop walks by, staring at her with his stupid blue eyes, Becky won't think twice about him because every time she moves she’ll be reminded of my dick. If I’ve never fucked before in my life, I’m fucking hard now.
“Rub your clit,” I tell Becky while continuing to slam into her. Sweat beads on my forehead, but I don't feel like I’m going to come if I keep it up. I feel like I’m running the first lap of a marathon. I’m poised and full of energy, thanks to Dr. Colson’s prescription of masturbation. I’m a new man tonight.
“Rub your clit, Becky,” I say again. I slow down my stroke this time so I don't knock Becky over while she reaches between her legs and moves her hand back and forth over her clit. “Yeah, rub it. I want you to come while I fuck you.”
“Oh my God,” is Becky’s only response. I can't see her face while fucking her from behind, so I don't know if her eyes are closed. I don't know if she’s fantasizing about Dr. Bishop or not, but I know she has no reason to. I know she’s rubbing her clit furiously, and I can tell from how tense her muscles are that she’s working towards an orgasm.
Watching Becky, I know what’s about to happen, so I make sure to keep up the pace. I know she’s getting close, and I refuse to have come this far just to watch it all falter right in front of me. My muscles ache and burn from the work I’ve put in, but I swallow down the pain and push past it. I don't care if I sweat a puddle onto the mattress and end up having to throw it out, I refuse to stop. Like a runner, I manage my breathing, alternating my breaths with each stroke of my cock, and after only sixty seconds, I hear Becky’s breathing being drawn into long gasps.
“Oh fucking God!” she bellows as she rubs her clit with one hand while gripping the covers with the other. Becky’s skin shifts to bright red like a chameleon as she comes harder than any time I can remember. Her voice strains as she screams and her abs clench so tightly it’s like she’s doing crunches on her knees. It’s amazing how hard she comes, and watching it sends me over the edge, too.
My orgasm rushes forward, and as it surges, I realize that in the excitement of the night, I never even put on a condom. As I’m rocked by it, I have to pull my dick out of Becky. Just in time, cum shoots from my stiff cock and lands on Becky’s back and ass.
“Holy fucking shit,” Becky blares. “Yes! Come all over me, baby! Yes!”
I never knew she liked the idea of me literally coming all over her, but a reaction like that doesn't lie. So, I stroke my cock vigorously as I come, dripping all over Becky as she waits for it, loving every second. She even turns around to watch me stroke myself, and I’m convinced this is the hottest night our relationship has ever seen.
When it’s all said and done, I give Becky a towel to wipe herself off, while I lay down next to her. Once she’s cleaned up enough, Becky collapses next to me, panting.
“What the fuck?” she says, looking up at the ceiling with a hand on her sweaty forehead.
“What?” I ask.
“Where did that come from?” she says, still breathing hard. “That was amazing. That was fucking amazing. After the day I’ve had, that was exactly what I needed. Holy shit, baby.”
In my twenty-five years of life, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt prouder of myself, and the whole time Becky and I have been together, I know she’s never said that before. She’s come more times than I can count, and we’ve definitely had some great nights, but she’s never told me I was amazing, or that I just gave her exactly what she needed. We crossed into new territory tonight, and now that we have, I can never allow us to go back.
I fucked better than I ever have. I made Becky scream for me. I paid attention to her more than I ever have, and the results were insane. I communicated. Not to mention, I followed Dr. Colson’s golden rule and made sure my woman came before I did. I even found out something about Becky that I didn't know—she likes it when I come on her ass. Never saw that one coming.
Tonight, I blazed a new trail, and I can't wait to tell Dr. Colson the good news. I finally hit it out of the park, and I have Dr. Colson to thank for it. I’m glad I had the courage to seek him out, because Dr. Colson knows exactly what he’s doing.
Good News, Bad News
19
~ Malcolm ~
I have no idea what I’m doing. This situation with Ava is starting to take a turn for the worse, but I find myself conflicted. This may sound shallow, but as much as I’m concerned about Ava’s state of mind, when we fuck, it’s mind-blowing, and that type of sex is hard to say goodbye to.
Nobody would ever be able to tell just from talking to me or passing me in the street, but I crave control when having sex. I don't need it all the time in my everyday life, but when I’m fucking, nothing turns me on more than having full control of a woman. Knowing a woman has given herself to me, allowing me to please her, trusting that I’ll know how to please her—it’s an amazing feeling, and a job I take very seriously.
When a woman, a queen, lets go and asks me to give her everything she needs, it’s a gift of the greatest magnitude. Failure is not an option, and even though I know I’ll succeed, I’m full of pride and joy when I do. Seeing her satisfied and breathless is a daily desire for me. I crave it. Plus, Ava is just so fucking seductive. Her body, her sultry voice when she says yes sir, her face, her hair, her round eyes that lock onto me with lust dripping from them, the noises that escape her throat when she’s being properly fucked—I’m a prisoner to all of it, and Ava knows it.
It’s been a few days since I saw the car sitting outside my house. While I’ve spoken to Ava via text, I was never able to get confirmation that it was her. The vehicle definitely looked like her Nissan, but in the dark, I couldn't really tell the color. I’ve asked Ava multiple times if it was her, and she has denied it over and over again. I want to believe her, but there’s something in me that can't. To be honest, it’s nearly impossible for me to believe Ava with something like this. I know her too well.
Since the night of the incident, I haven't actually seen Ava. She seems to be playing a little game with me, one that I find impossible to tear myself away from. It’s one of those things Ava knows I can't resist, and even though she's manipulating me and I’m falling right into her trap, I can’t end the game because it excites me too much. I guess we all have our weaknesses, even therapists. Some would say especially therapists.
Ava’s game lately is a simple one. It’s masturbation. Since we haven't seen each other in a few days, Ava has been texting me daily, telling me she's about to touch herself. The text usually comes at night when I’m home with a drink in my hand. Who doesn't get a little hornier after having a drink or two? This is how I know Ava is manipulating me, because she knows I like to cap off my night with a drink after a long day of sessions. So, she texts me in the evening when I’m winding down, and tells me she’s thinking about me, and that the thought of me and our sex makes her wet. Seeing her messages is like reading an erotic novel, and while men are visual creatures, we like sexy literature, too. Maybe that's just me, but the thought of Ava rubbing her clit with thoughts of me running through her mind is an aphrodisiac if there ever was one.
Ava texts me that she's dying to rub her pussy while she thinks of me, and asks for my permission. She knows how much I yearn to control her, so she offers me an opportunity, knowing I can't refuse, and sure enough, I give in. I try to fight it away, but if I say no once, she just texts back five minutes later. If I say no again, she sends another text, this time with a picture attached—a picture of her bare, freshly-shaved pussy. O
nce I see that, any semblance of strength that I had crumbles. I end up telling Ava that she’s allowed to touch herself, but that she’s not allowed to come without me being present. She spends the rest of the night texting me about how good it feels and how she wants to come so badly, but needs to do it with me. By the time we’re done texting, I’m on the verge of masturbation myself, although I try to keep that to a minimum. I prefer the real thing if I can help it.
I know this is a bad idea. Ava has broken the rules by staying in my house against my wishes, and I’m certain it was her parked in front of my mailbox, because if it wasn't, then I have an even bigger mystery to solve. With all of that in mind, I know I should back away, but she has her hooks in me.
Maybe we’re dysfunctional, and if a patient told me they were seeing someone who does to them what Ava does to me, I’d tell them to be very careful, and to end it if things get any worse. But we all know doctors make the worst patients.
All things considered, I accept the situation for what it is. I know what I should do, but I’m still looking for that last bit of information to give me the push I need to back away from some amazing sex. I need to get to the bottom of the car outside my house, because once I know for a fact that Ava was essentially stalking me, I’ll know what needs to be done. So, as I sit in my office waiting for my next patient, I take out my phone and try to start the investigative process. I text Ava.
Me: Hey. You busy tonight?
As I expected, it only takes Ava a minute to respond.
Ava: No. I want to see you.
Me: Good. I want to see you, but there's something important we need to discuss. Meet me at Cheddar’s in Camden. Eight o’clock.
