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Christy, The Sex Therapist

flatiron

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Thanks to @Fortheloveofmen18. I mentioned this in a conversation and he suggested I write it. So here’s the first chapter.

1

Marcus checked the address on his phone and knew he was walking in the right direction. He found the building, entered the elevator, and exited a few seconds later. He stepped out into the small atrium on the 10th floor. He turned left, then left again, and found the room he needed.

He opened the thick glass door and entered the waiting room. The walls were painted a light, pastel blue. There were five or six chairs, but Marcus was the only person in the room. Faint strains of classical music streamed from a seemingly-forgotten transistor radio. Freshly cut flowers were vased on a table in the corner of the room. Some innocuous glossy magazines collected dust on another small table. Marcus guessed the magazines would’ve been about travel or architecture. They usually were. He couldn’t be bothered to check.

There were three consultation rooms leading off from the waiting room. One of them had a sign on the door which read “THERAPY IN PROGRESS. DO NOT ENTER FOR ANY REASON UNLESS THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE.” Marcus suspected this was where the really serious headcases went to get fixed up, perhaps patients who were beyond the reach of regular psychology.

He was waiting to meet a sex therapist.

Was Marcus a headcase? He wasn’t sure.

As he waited, his mind reached back five years when the relationship he was in at the time hit some serious waves. His girlfriend at the time started withdrawing from the relationship, and Marcus couldn’t work out why. He also felt that if he pressed the issue with her, he’d push her further away. They’d been together for about nine years and, only a year and a half earlier, they’d bought their dream home together. Mortgages are the modern-day marriage, right? Marcus thought they’d be together forever.

About two months before the relationship finally died, his girlfriend moved out of their dream home. Temporarily. Her investment property was between tenants, and she said she needed to do some minor repairs while it was unoccupied. Marcus offered to help but his girlfriend said no – she had it under control, she said, and besides, it would give her some space and time to do some thinking. She said she would come back after two or three weeks, once she had a new tenant lined up. Marcus wasn’t sure exactly what was on her mind, but he suspected it was something about their relationship.

Through their mutual circle of friends, Marcus began learning about how his girlfriend was accumulating furniture in her investment property, and how she started hosting parties to which Marcus wasn’t invited. It sounded like she was getting pretty settled under a new roof. He felt paralysed and unsure. He felt relationship doom was just around the corner, but there were nothing but question marks in his head.

Needless to say, she didn’t come back. She rang Marcus one night and suggested it would be good if she came over for dinner. Marcus cooked her favourite meal. After they’d eaten, she broke Marcus’s heart. She said she wasn’t coming back, and she needed to be ‘by herself’ for a while. She told Marcus there was no need to move out of their home any time soon, but the walls were decorated with art, photos and memories of their time together. He couldn’t look at it. Any of it. He had to get away. He found a rental property near his work building, and in a thick fog of depression, he borrowed a car from a friend, and moved his personal belongings out of his abandoned dream home to his new rental.

Marcus was suicidal. He spoke to his doctor, he cried in the office, she prescribed him some medication and suggested a psychologist he should see. Two weeks later (he’ll never quite know how he stayed alive), he was in the psychologist’s consultation rooms. Over time, and with a lot of hard work on Marcus’s part, the psychologist helped him to get his life and his emotional state back into some kind of balance. Eventually, his ex-girlfriend was more or less forgotten, and it was only their overlapping circle of friends that kept reminding him of her.

If Marcus had to live through this hellish period of his life, he wanted to learn something from it. He wanted to learn more about himself. It wasn’t enough for him to be able to function in society again, he wanted to know what made him tick. He wanted to know what made him human. He wanted to know what made Marcus Marcus.

The first thing Marcus accepted was that he was bisexual. He didn’t need any psychological assistance to reach this conclusion; to Marcus it was already self-evident. Marcus was at a low point in his life, the absolute lowest he’d ever felt, and there seemed no point denying truth to himself anymore. He’d never been in a relationship with a man, and he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t avoid the fact that in the later years of his relationship with his ex, he began gravitating more and more towards gay porn, and away from straight porn. Firm tits and wet pussies still got him hard, and he already suspected that glossy thick red lipstick would be his kryptonite for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t deny that he loved cock, too. He couldn’t deny that he checked out guys at the gym and wondered what it’d feel like to be bent over and dominated. He even jerked off at night imagining hot scenarios in the locker room, spraying his cum all over the bedsheets. He’d never admited any of this to anyone before. At all. But he now admitted it to himself. He owned his bisexuality, and the relief he felt within himself was indescribable.

Over the course of a few years, Marcus talked with his psychologist about many things. They talked about friendships, relationships, emotional connection, and personal motivation. They talked about travel, culture, art and history. They talked about diet, exercise, alcohol and drugs. Marcus learned a great deal about himself. He’d moved a million miles away from thoughts of suicide. While he hoped he’d never again live through an experience as raw or as scarring as the relationship breakup, and he was self-aware enough to recognise he’d built emotional ‘walls’ to protect him from future pain, in some ways he was glad of the experience. He believed he was a better, more mature and more connected person because of what he’d been through, and he was able to see, with the clarity of 20-20 hindsight, that his ex wasn’t right for him. He knew he was better off without her.

But he wasn’t perfect, right? Nobody ever knows absolutely everything about themselves, do they? Even though Marcus could see so much more of the submerged part of his personal iceberg than before, he knew he’d never see it all.

Marcus and his psychologist also talked about sex. At one session, his psych asked Marcus how often he and his ex had sex. Marcus replied that they started off having sex maybe 3 times a week or so, but the frequency eventually dwindled until they stopped having sex altogether.

“Why’d you stop having sex with her?”, the psych asked. “Did you lose interest? Do you think she did? Were you just too busy?”. He put his reading glasses on and began taking some notes on a notepad.

“Probably a bit of all three”, Marcus replied. “She had a busy job, probably 60 or 70 hours a week, and towards the end, there wasn’t much time for me in it.”

“Yeah I get that. But were you still attracted to her?”

“Absolutely I was, but I probably didn’t let her know that often enough. Maybe when we stopped having sex, she might’ve thought I’d gone off her, or something. Nine years is a long time. I never cheated on her, and to the best of my knowledge she didn’t cheat on me. Maybe we could’ve been more adventurous. Maybe we should’ve just fucking talked to each other.”

“What would you have said to her? I mean, if you could wind back the clock?”, the psych asked.

Marcus paused to think. “I’m not sure. I mean, it isn’t enough to say to someone ‘I love you, and I think you’re hot’, but then not want to fuck them, is it?”

The psychologist tapped his pen on his notepad. “Why didn’t you want to have intercourse with her, Marcus?” Psychologists like to probe, don’t they.

“I mean, it’s normal, isn’t it, for the fire to go out? I mean, eventually, that is? You move into a phase where you mature together and prepare to put down roots and grow old together. You can’t always be on fire in the sack. But it’s true to say I stopped trying, but then again, so did she. Later in our relationship, she never came home from work and clawed me like she used to do. She was just so preoccupied with work, and I felt crowded out. But I never lost my sex drive. My libido is quite healthy.”

“How do you know that?”

“I masturbate. Probably a bit more than most people. Three or four times a day, usually. I watch a lot of porn.”

Of course, the psych picked up on the porn angle. He cleared his throat. “Do you think you substituted porn for sex?”

Marcus paused again. This was a challenging conversation, but he was learning a lot about himself. There was no point being in this room if he wasn’t prepared to be honest with himself. “Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, masturbating is easier, right? You only have to look after yourself. Maybe that’s selfish. The other thing is, my ex’s blowjobs were terrible and she wasn’t interested in anal. In contrast, porn looks perfect.”

Marcus looked out the window and noticed a pair of birds perched on the telegraph line outside the psych’s office. He continued.

“I remember one day when she went out to buy the week’s groceries. As soon as the car pulled out of the drive, the laptop was on and my pants were around my ankles. I thought to myself I’ve got a good hour here, so go nuts. I was jerking off watching a chick with massive tits getting railed in the ass. I was just about to cum when I heard the key turning in the front door half an hour earlier than I anticipated. I was quick enough to pull my pants up and to shut the laptop, but the unmistakable noises of porn kept coming out of the speaker. And because I was right on the brink, I came. She could see the tent in my pants. There was no hiding it. So she clearly knew I wasn’t asexual, and that I hadn’t lost my drive, but that my drive had been … shall we say … redirected.”

“What happened? How did she react?”

“She looked down, saw my pants, and without any emotion at all, she said ‘the groceries are in the car, help me bring them inside’.”

The psych took all of this in. “Do you think she might have felt something at this point? Even though she gave you no clues at all, what do you think she might have been feeling?”

“Surprise. Perhaps rejection. Sexual rejection. I guess. But in my own mind, I never sexually rejected her. She was always sexy as fuck to me. But if she did feel rejection, I can see why. Having said that, I felt pretty sexually rejected too, and maybe that’s why I started watching so much porn. I guess the fire went out for both of us, but just because the sex disappears, does that mean the relationship has to?”

“No, of course not”, the psych responded. “Plenty of people are in sexless relationships. They either enjoy it, accept it, tolerate it, or they find sexual outlets elsewhere. Or the relationship ends, and it sounds like this is what happened in your case. Do you regret not having a conversation about this?”

Marcus reached for the tissues. “Yes, of course I do.” He blew his nose. “But I never would’ve known where to start. She was pretty conservative in bed, but she couldn’t possibly have thought the same about me. I wonder if she has similar regrets about not talking to me. Probably not. But in any case, it was hard to find the right environment to have a conversation about this anyway. She’d ‘temporarily’ moved out.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes. I wanted to be with her forever.”

“Even though you didn’t have sex with her.”

“Well, yeah. I thought there might be a way to make it work. And until she ‘temporarily’ moved out, I thought this was what we *both* wanted. It didn’t seem like an issue for her, she didn’t mention anything to me, so I didn’t want to rock the boat by bringing something up that didn’t need to be brought up.”

The psych took his reading glasses off and looked directly at Marcus. “Do you see where I’m going here?”

Marcus wasn’t sure. He waited.

The psych continued: “I wonder if you loved her so much, you couldn’t have sex with her.”

A bomb went off in the back row of Marcus’s brain.

*

At their next session, the psych returned to this theme. They talked more, and Marcus wondered if there could be some truth to what his psych said. Maybe he can’t have sex with people he loves. But why?

Marcus pushed forward on his quest for knowledge about himself. The question was worth pursuing. If this was true, then *why* was it true?

The psych turned to his laptop and pulled up a website. “Here you go, Marcus. I recommend you go and see Christy. She’s a specialist in a range of psychological issues around sex. If you really want to dig into this issue, I think she’d be a really good person for you to meet. Her rooms are not too far from here. I’ll print off her details. You don’t need a letter of recommendation from me, you can just make an appointment on her website.”

At the end of the session, Marcus settled his bill with the sexy trans receptionist. He imagined her bent over, leaning on the desk, her dress hiked up, and his cock buried way deep in her asspussy. He imagined pulling out at the very last minute and coating her face with his seed.

Nup, there was nothing wrong with his sex drive.

He continued waiting in the waiting room. Classical music, pale blue walls, freshly cut flowers. Christy was running a little bit late for their first appointment. They’d never met each other. Neither of them knew what the other looked like.
 
Last edited:

flatiron

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50% Straight, 50% Gay
Gender
Male
2

The elevator dinged, and Marcus heard the sound of the doors opening. Footsteps. Someone was approaching. The glass door swung open.

She spoke. “Hi … umm … Marcus?”

Marcus stood up and nodded. They shook hands, and Marcus felt Christy’s long red fingernails scrape lightly across his palm.

“I’m so sorry I’m a little bit late. Come through.”

Christy’s room afforded a beautiful view of a distant mountain range to the south of the city. There was a small desk with a computer on it, a small bookshelf, and two couches that faced each other. The walls were painted that same calming meaningless insanely bullshit pastel blue.

“Nice to meet you, Marcus”.

“Thanks, yeah, you too.”

Marcus looked at Christy. She was in her early 30s, he guessed. Long black hair, in ringlets. Deep, clear blue eyes. Massive breasts – surely those tits couldn’t possibly be real – and a fat ass that would send men to their deaths. Christy had a tattoo sleeve on one arm that went all the way up to the side of her neck, she wore a short black leather skirt which was straining at the seams to contain her incredible ass, and her lips were painted with the thickest, glossiest, red lipstick Marcus had ever seen. There was a small tattoo of a heart underneath her left eye.

Christy looked at Marcus. She didn’t see anything especially attractive, but she didn’t see anything that repelled her either. She noted his loose-fitting t-shirt, his shorts that covered his knees, his long goth socks, his Doc Marten boots and the thick tattoo of a brick wall on his left forearm. She noticed that he was a little bit chubby, but she didn’t care. Christy was a professional. Her job was to provide counsel and advice. Fucking her clients was out of the question.

Marcus was here to learn about himself. This experience was nothing to do with his body, this was all about his mind and his soul. Having said that, there was no denying that his therapist was incredibly fucking hot. Given he wasn’t here for anything other than to engage in therapy, it might’ve been better for him if his therapist was a 70 year old man wearing beige and grey.

Christy invited Marcus to get comfortable on one of the couches. Christy herself sat on the other. She crossed her legs, cleared her throat and began to speak.

“Can I get you anything before we get started, Marcus? Would you like some water, perhaps?”

Marcus had brought a bottle of water with him in his backpack. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” Looking at Christy, he felt a little parched. He pulled the water bottle out of his pack and took a swig. He rested the bottle on the small table next to the couch, he might need it again. He wasn’t sure how this next hour would play out, but he assumed Christy had been around this particular block hundreds of times before.

Christy had a form that she asked clients to fill in on their first visit. She took a copy of it, attached it to a clipboard, produced a pen and gave the information combination to Marcus. “Could you please fill this in for me, Marcus?”. It was basic stuff – name, address, date of birth, and so on. There were questions about marital and relationship history. It was the kind of information any doctor would collect about a patient. Marcus took his time and made sure to write legibly and clearly. Once the assignment was complete, he tucked the pen inside the clip of the clipboard and returned the form to Christy.

Christy looked over the form and rested the clipboard on her lap. “Thank you, Marcus, I appreciate that. So, before we get started, I just wanted to ask, do you feel comfortable?”

Marcus was in no doubt. “Yep, I’m totally comfortable. I want to learn as much as I can about myself with you, including about my sexuality and how it connects to my libido. I’m really hoping you can help me with this.”

Christy shifted. “Yes, I think I can. I mean, we haven’t discussed why you’re here yet, but if it’s related to sex, then that’s what I get paid for, right?”. Despite her appearance, she was completely professional. “You know, some people can find this experience unnerving and difficult. I understand that, but I want you to know you’ll only get out of this experience what you’re willing to put in.”

Marcus agreed completely. He took another sip of water.

The conversation started. Christy asked Marcus about his upbringing, his parents and siblings, about school, about higher education and about his career. She asked about his friends and his hobbies. She asked about his relationship history, and she asked whether he was in a relationship right now. “No, I’m not”, replied Marcus. “At the moment, I’m just looking after myself.”

Christy made a note on the clipboard. They started talking. “So there’s one thing I don’t ask on the form, because it makes some people feel a bit uncomfortable, but it’s a question that will help immeasurably. Can I ask, what’s your orientation?”

Marcus knew exactly what she meant. “I’m bisexual.”

Christy responded immediately. “So am I. What makes *you* bisexual?”

Markus responded. “Well, I don’t know, maybe that’s part of the reason I’m here. When I was at school, I always lusted after the popular hot chicks and I jerked off every night wondering what it’d be like to fuck ‘em, but I also watched football practice. I remember thinking at the time ‘is this normal?’ and so I stopped watching football practice because I thought that’s what society wanted me to do. But it didn’t stop me cumming to the thought of dicks in my face and it didn’t stop me eating my own cum imagining it belonged to the football team captain. And nowadays I watch a lot of porn. Straight porn, but also gay porn. For a long time I thought something was wrong with me, but now I know there isn’t.”

Christy leaned forward. “Yeah, being bisexual is totally normal. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to have sexual experiences with both men and women. But are you worried there might be something else ‘wrong’ with you, Marcus?”. She actually used the air-quotes. Marcus wasn’t sure what was being implied.

Marcus responded. “So why are *you* bisexual?”. He didn’t feel familiar enough with Christy to call her by her name. And he wasn’t meaning to pry, he was really just trying to anchor his own position.

“I think I’ve always been bisexual. I’m married to a muscly guy with broad shoulders and a thick dick, and I get so wet when I suck him off, but I also like sucking on a pair of fat titties and eating a wet cunt. But you know what else? Nobody kisses women better than other women. Kissing another chick is the hottest thing fucking ever.”

Marcus shifted on the couch at the thought of Christy’s red lips kissing another woman. He wondered what they’d feel like wrapped around his own cock.

*

Marcus and Christy had a long conversation, but eventually, his time was up. He settled the bill and re-emerged at ground floor, but he knew there was so much more to explore and unpack. He was already looking forward to his next appointment with Christy next month.
 

flatiron

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3

A month later, Marcus rocked up to the 10th floor. He took his earbuds out in the lift, and the sounds of shredding death metal riffs gave way to silence. The waiting room felt like it had been surgically cleaned. Everything seemed to be in exactly the same place as it was a month before. It even felt like the same piece of classical music was playing in the background. He was no student of classical – it wasn’t music if it wasn’t fucking loud – but his sense of déjà vu was undeniable. Again, he was the only person in the waiting room.

He’d been thinking quite a lot about the proposition his psychologist had put to him. Was it really impossible for him to fuck people he loved? He wanted to explore this some more. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to find an answer, and he wasn’t even sure if there was an answer to find anyway.

Christy opened the door to her office and Marcus entered. She was wearing the same tight leather skirt she wore last month. Well, Marcus *thought* it was the same skirt – maybe she had a collection. Christy’s pout was emphasised by bright pink lipstick.

After a few pleasantries, they sat on the couches and got down to business. Christy crossed her legs and rested her clipboard on her lap. She asked Marcus how, in sexual terms, he’d spent the last month.

“Pretty normal, I think”, said Marcus. “Well, normal for me, I guess. Jerking off most days, probably about 3 times a day, and watching lots of porn.”

“Have you had sex with anyone else?”, Christy inquired.

“Yeah. I actually had sex with a man for the first time. I set up an account on Grindr. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, and it took me a while to work out that most of the responses I was getting were coming from bots.”

Christy laughed. “Pain in the ass. OK, so what happened? How did it go? How did it feel?”

“Well, so I got talking to a guy. It was only about two nights after my first session with you, actually. He was a bit younger than me. He had short blond hair and blue eyes. Really cute. I asked if he could send me a pic of his cock. It looked pretty good for someone like me who’s inexperienced. It wasn’t too big or too thick. We kept talking for a while until he asked if I was doing anything that night. I said I wasn’t, and he suggested he could drive over to my place and we could hang out – that is, if I wouldn’t mind some company and if I was comfortable giving him my address. I was just about to finish off a bottle of wine, so I was probably a little uninhibited. I gave him my address and he said he’d be over in about 20 minutes. He messaged me when he arrived. I messaged back giving him instructions for how to find my apartment from the carpark. Half a minute later, my intercom buzzed and I let him up.”

Christy was very interested. “What happened next?”

“The obvious, Sherlock – he knocked on the door and I opened it. I can see why you get paid so well!”. Christy laughed.

Marcus continued. “I invited him in, and we sat on the couch for a few minutes introducing ourselves, making small talk. I offered him some wine, but he asked for water – he was driving. I think I was the one to change gears. I reached over and dropped my hand in his lap. I’m actually not that forward normally, but I knew why he was here and I knew what we were about to do. I’d never touched another man’s dick before. I felt it move.”

Christy nodded. She parted her lips slightly. Marcus continued.

“I kissed him on the lips. I felt his tongue in my mouth and I felt the stubble on his chin. Again, this was all completely new to me. I mean, women don’t have stubbly chins! I took his shirt off and kissed his nipples just for a second. I should’ve taken more time, given I really love sucking breasts and because I hoped this would be an event to remember. But to be honest, all I wanted in that moment was to put his dick in my mouth as quickly as possible. So I pulled his pants down, and I looked at his crotch. He was a bit hairier than in the pic he sent, but it didn’t matter. I remember saying to him, ‘I’ve never done this before, so I’m sorry if I’m not good at it’. I must’ve been OK, only once did he say ‘teeth! teeth!’. After a while I felt his breathing deepen, and he sank back on the couch as I jerked his dick and sucked it. He’d brought poppers with him. I’d heard of them, but I’d never used them before. He offered them to me, but I said no. My senses were overloaded enough already. He also asked if he could fuck me. Again, I said no – this was already too much to take in for one night.”

Christy prompted Marcus to continue his story. “So, you kept sucking him? How was it?”

“Oh my god, Christy, I loved it. He was actually really considerate, too. He told me when he was getting close, and asked me if I wanted him to cum in my mouth or not. Again, first time, too much. I took him out of my mouth and jerked him off. His cum looked delicious and thick. I didn’t taste it, but I loved the feeling of it pooling around my fist and around his crotch. It felt so warm. After a few minutes, he said he really enjoyed the blowjob, but he had to work early in the morning. He asked if he could take a quick shower, so I got him a fresh towel. He dried himself off, got dressed again, and we hugged. He left, and I presume he drove home and went to sleep.”

Christy asked the missing question. “What was his name?”

Marcus furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. I mean, I think he told me, but I can’t remember. I forget. It doesn’t matter. We messaged a little more over the next few days, but I know I’ve only just started on this journey. I denied a lot of things in this first encounter. I said no to poppers, I said no to anal and I said no to letting him cum in my mouth, but all of these things are going to be on the menu for me soon.” He felt the need to make up for lost time. He was hoping to discover a stream of nameless dicks in future, maybe even faceless dicks if he could summon up the courage to visit a gloryhole. But that was all in the future.

Christy turned the conversation to safe sex practices. “Did you use a condom?”

“Nah”, replied Marcus. “It was only a blowjob, and I didn’t swallow.”

“OK”, countered Christy, “but let’s say you let him fuck you. Would you have used a condom?”

“Yeah, absolutely I would. I don’t want to catch anything.”

“So let’s try something out, then”, Christy said. “Just humour me for a second. I want to see how you put a condom on.”

Marcus wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Was Christy suggesting Marcus pull his pants down, get hard, and roll one on? His mind *definitely* went there. Christy deflated Marcus’s hopes by producing a wooden model of a penis. The wooden penis was about 6 and a half inches long, cut, and very smooth. It curved slightly upwards. It would’ve made an excellent dildo, Marcus noted. She also produced a condom from a small basket of what he assumed were free samples. Perks of the trade, maybe.

“Show me how you’d roll this on.”

Marcus wrestled with the packaging. Like many men, he was familiar with the frustration of wanting to tear the package open as quickly as possible, and the droopy feeling that sometimes comes when it takes too long. But there was no performance pressure this time. This was for exhibition purposes only. He ripped one of the sides of the square package, and gingerly extracted the condom from its pouch. Placing the condom at the top of the wooden penis, he made sure to squeeze the reservoir, and he rolled it on. Right way, first time. High five!

“Well done, Marcus, good job. There’s actually another way to put a condom on a penis, you know. Want me to show you?”

Of course Marcus did. But only because he wanted to see Christy do it.

Christy pulled another condom out of the basket and removed it from its packaging. She licked her pouty pink lips. She put the condom in her mouth, and in a single move, leaned forward and rolled it down the full length of the wooden penis. Her mouth stayed buried at the base of the wooden penis for a few seconds. She took the wooden penis out of her mouth. The condom was perfectly in place, and there were traces of pink lipstick residue at the base. He noticed how her tongue stayed in contact with the head of the wooden dick until she pulled off.

She looked at Marcus with a grin that could kill. Marcus was hard as steel, but he retained his composure. “Yeah, I see what you mean. More than one way to skin a cat, they say.”

Christy smiled at him. That smile could melt butter. “OK, your turn buddy. Here’s a fresh rubber.” She lobbed another pouch at him. The basket seemed like it contained an endless supply of semen-catchers.

“All right, let’s see how this goes.” Marcus fretted less about ripping the packaging this time. He methodically pulled the sheath out of its pouch and tried to remember what Christy did a few minutes ago. He was still fairly hard. He went to put the rolled-up condom in his mouth but he wasn’t sure which way. He wasn’t sure what to do with it once it was in his mouth either. What Christy did a few minutes ago looked like sexual magic and he was pretty sure he couldn’t replicate her, but he was willing to try.

Marcus put the condom in his mouth and approached the wooden penis. His first attempt was an abject failure. The rubber actually fell out of his mouth completely as he leaned forward. “Hold it gently”, coached Christy.

The second time was slightly more of a success. Nowhere near as expert as Christy’s effort, but he managed to get it on … to some extent. It was the right way around, but he couldn’t roll it all the way to the base, and he gagged quite a lot. His eyes watered and he coughed. “Ta daaaaa!”, joked Marcus. He bowed.

Christy smiled. Her heart warmed. So did her crotch. Fuck. That was hot.

*

Marcus and Christy resumed their positions on the couches and kept talking. Marcus could still taste the chemical sterileness of the condom in his mouth, but he knew Christy would be tasting the same thing. Though Marcus was eager to accumulate as many sexual escapades as possible to unpack with Christy, he only had the one to relate at this session. However, he was also very curious about Christy’s own sex life. Christy normally found her clients to be only interested in themselves or their partners, and there was nothing wrong with that. Clients paid for her expert advice, and if conversations were endless one-way streets, well that was her job.

Marcus asked, “So have you had sex this month?”

“Yeah, definitely. My husband and I fucked quite a few times, and I also got myself off quite a few times with toys. I’m really getting into audio porn lately. I close my eyes, fire up a toy, and let my imagination run wild.”

Marcus blurted out his response. “Shit, that’s so fuckin’ hot.” He immediately regretted it, but Christy laughed.

“Rule 101: masturbation is healthy”, replied Christy. “But so too is sex. My husband and I fuck, and we love each other.”

“But last month you said you were bi, how does that work when you’re married?”

“Well, I made a commitment to be physically committed to him, but it doesn’t stop me getting off to thoughts and images and videos of sexy women. In my line of work, I see lots of couples who have a sex life that doesn’t completely fulfil them, and for them, I recommend an agreement in which they write down what they want from their partner and what they hope to get from others outside the relationship. We can get into that later, but it doesn’t matter right now for you because you’re single. For now, I just want you to know that my husband and I have a very healthy sex life, and we love each other.”

Marcus couldn’t help wondering how Christy’s husband felt when she went down on him. He couldn’t stop replaying the mental footage of Christy rolling a condom onto a wooden penis with her mouth, and he imagined her doing that to her husband’s engorged real-life flesh-and-blood cock. Marcus had a small tent in his pants. Christy noticed.

Soon, their time was up. Marcus paid his bill and caught the elevator back to earth. So it was possible to fuck people you love, Christy was evidence of this. Marcus still didn’t really understand how … or why. Or even if he wanted to.
 

flatiron

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Marcus came back for his next appointment with Christy a month later. He stepped out of the lift and you already know what the waiting room looked like. This time, he couldn’t fucking stand the sound of the soothing classical music on the radio. He left his earbuds in for a continued Sepultura assault. It was early in the afternoon and Christy was a little late coming back from lunch. Marcus didn’t mind waiting, and spent the time trying to imagine what she might be wearing today.

Of course, her wardrobe was hot. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, tight top that highlighted her massive fuckable tits, a short tartan skirt, fishnet stockings, and a pair of sexy fuck-me boots. Her lipstick was a thick bright red. Marcus looked her up and down. He knew that even if absolutely nothing was said or done for the next hour, at least he’d enjoy the view.

Marcus took his earbuds out. Christy unlocked the door to her office and welcomed Marcus in. They sat opposite each other on the couches, and Christy retrieved her clipboard and notes.

“So, how have you been this last month, Marcus? Get lucky with anyone?”

“Yeah”, replied Marcus. “An Asian dude. A little bit shorter than me, and a fair bit skinnier than me. Apart from his head and his pubes, he was absolutely hairless. Definitely not effeminate. I think he said he was learning how to box. I could tell he was working on his pecs and biceps. We talked for a while and swapped some pics, and he arranged to come over to my apartment one afternoon after he’d finished work for the day. He came in, I offered him some water, and we sat on the couch. After a bit of small talk, he noticed the tattoo on my left arm.” Marcus showed Christy his tattoo of a brick wall. She’d already noticed it. “He asked me about my tattoo and whether there was a story behind it. While I was telling him my story, he was lightly stroking my tattoo. That got me hard.”

Christy was eager to hear more. “What happened next, Marcus?”

“I leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away. It was strange that he was stroking my arm but he didn’t want to kiss me. So I pulled his pants down and got my first look at his penis. It was fun size! I could barely even wrap my fist around it. At least I knew I’d be able to get this dick pretty deep in my mouth. I got a condom because I wanted to try rolling it onto his dick with my mouth like you showed me last month. I kind of did it, but it was a bit messy. So I pulled the condom down as much as I could with my hands and then started sucking him, but I didn’t really like the taste of the rubber in my mouth. I asked him if it’d be OK if I took it off, and he couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. I kept sucking and stroking, and eventually he told me he was gonna cum. That was my opportunity to take his dick out of my mouth if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. I felt his hips thrust forward and he came in my mouth. I loved it.”

Christy looked at him with pride. “Your first load, I’m happy for you!”

Marcus continued. “Yeah, I swallowed it. The only other cum I’ve ever tasted was my own, and I think his tasted almost the same as mine”. He paused for a second. “He wasn’t done, though.”

“What happened next then?”

“He asked if he could fuck me. I was like ‘fuck yeah’. He was pretty sexy, and I thought it’d be good for my first time to take a smallish dick. So yeah, I lost my cherry. I mean, I’ve fucked myself in the ass before, but this was my first real-life dick. So he took my hand and led me towards my own bed. I thought that was a pretty sexy move.”

Christy uncrossed and recrossed her legs and waited for more details.

Marcus kept going. “OK so this time there was no question that he was gonna wear a condom. I insisted, but this time I rolled it on with my hands just to make sure it was on properly. And then he put me on my back and rested his dick against my anus. I opened my legs, tried to relax, and he pushed it in. It felt great. I looked up at his sweaty face and his sexy hairless chest as he fucked me. He wouldn’t kiss me but I didn’t care. It felt awesome. I knew I was just a hole to him. After about 5 minutes he grunted and thrust his dick way forward, and I knew without asking him that he’d cum.”

Christy had a question. “Did you cum, Marcus?”

“I didn’t. I guess I was just concentrating on the feeling of being filled up. Even though his dick wasn’t big, I still felt full. He showered and left, and I had a pretty good fap once he’d left.”

Christy felt happy for Marcus. “I’m just really glad you’re starting to have the sexual experiences you’ve been wanting to have. I’m also really glad that you’re safe when it comes to anal. That’s really important.”

“Yeah, I’m happy about it too. I feel like I’m making up for lost time.” Marcus wasn’t sure whether to broach the next subject on his mind. “Hey, Christy, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“What is it, Marcus? You know, you can ask me anything in these sessions”, Christy said.

“Well, I really want to get better at rolling a condom on with my mouth. Could you show me again what you did last month?” Marcus would’ve been happy enough with an exact repeat performance of her rolling the rubber onto the wooden penis that he assumed was somewhere in the office. It would’ve gone into his wankbank for all time …

Christy had a better idea. “Yeah, OK. I’ll show you. I mean, it definitely takes some practice to be able to do this well.” She got up from the couch and took a condom out of her basket. She took the condom out. “Stand up, Marcus.”

Marcus stood up. Christy stepped forward and unbuckled his belt. “Hey, what …?”

“Shhhhhh. Part of learning is feeling. And I want you to feel this.” Christy sunk to her knees. She lowered Marcus’s pants and, in one swift, smooth motion, rolled the condom onto his penis with her mouth.

Every nerve-ending in Marcus’s body fired at once. He closed his eyes in total pleasure, and the next time he opened them, he saw Christy’s thick red lips wrapped around his dick. “Oh my fucking god Christy … that feels incredible …”

Christy took Marcus’s dick out of her mouth and gave it a few strokes. “I know, baby. Did you like the way it felt when I put the condom on you with my mouth? I wanted to show you.”

Marcus could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I … well … I’ve never felt anything … like that ever …”

“OK, babe”, Christy cooed. “You don’t have to talk. But I’m pretty sure this’ll feel even better”. She swallowed his cock again, right to the base, swirling her tongue around the tip of his dick and across the underside of his shaft. His breathing was jagged and uneven. His knees were weak. Christy kept sucking and stroking.

It didn’t take long for Marcus to roar. He violently fired sperm into Christy’s mouth, but she couldn’t taste it because he was still wearing a condom. She had no doubt that he was cumming, though – the feeling of his dick twitching and spasming in her mouth and the sight of his trembling knees were both unmistakable.

Very carefully and methodically, Christy removed the condom from Marcus’s dick. His pants were still around his ankles as he flopped back down onto the couch, completely spent. “Look at this mess, Marcus”, Christy scolded. She held the spent rubber up in front of Marcus and he could see the huge load of semen she’d coaxed out of him. “What a mess you’ve made. It’s a good thing I put this thing on you, or you would’ve cum all in my mouth or on my face. You would’ve ruined my makeup and lipstick for the rest of the day and that would’ve been completely unacceptable. I’m not sure what my next client might’ve thought if I opened the door with your sticky jizz all over my face.”

Marcus’s mind was such a complete blur, he couldn’t tell whether Christy was serious or not. His doubts were erased when Christy upended the contents of the condom onto her fat tongue. She savoured the taste and then swallowed, with a very satisfied ‘ahhh!’. “You taste good”, she said.

Marcus was still catching his breath and waiting for the synapses in his brain to rearrange themselves. “I’m loving these sessions so fucking much, Christy. I’m so glad I started seeing you.” He vaguely remembered that he first came to Christy to talk about how difficult he found it to fuck people he loved, but with his dick still echoing faint spasms after what was probably the best blowjob of his life, he quite literally couldn’t give a fuck.

Christy stood back up and looked Marcus directly in the eye. She could still taste his cum. Marcus could smell it on her breath. “From now on, it’s Miss Christy.”

Marcus gulped and nodded. “Yes, Miss Christy.”

Marcus had no idea how he’d last four infinitely long weeks before his next appointment. He’d never wanted to fuck someone so badly in his life.
 

flatiron

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Marcus could barely sleep the night before his next appointment with Christy. Are you fucking surprised? He jerked off pretty hard before he went to sleep, but he was still a nervous bundle of sexual energy. He lay awake in bed, trying to piece together those four or five minutes last month when Christy put his penis in her mouth and made him cum. He had no idea that this was part of ‘sex therapy’. He remembered, through a thick fog of post-cum bliss how she squeezed his semen out of the rubber, swirled it around her mouth, and swallowed it. It was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He knew the only way he was going to be able to get some sleep was to masturbate again.

His laptop was resting on the floor next to his bed, but he didn’t need porn tonight. All he needed right now was the electricity of anticipation that was already coursing through his blood. He touched his cock. He started wondering what Christy might be wearing tomorrow. He imagined a wide variety of long sexy boots, short skirts and tight tops, but when he imagined her showing up to their session topless, his dick fired ropes of cum all over his chest and all over his bed sheet. He cleaned himself up with the box of tissues on his bedside table. His bed linen soaked up the remainder.

He slept for about an hour and a half, but it was a restless sleep. He woke up with a massive erection that demanded immediate attention. He thought of Christy again, and precum oozed out of his cock. He remembered his last appointment when Christy got up off her knees after swallowing his seed from the condom, and he remembered her telling Marcus that from now on, she was MISS Christy. He lost his shit again. Ropes of cum drenched his torso and crotch. The box of tissues was called into action again. His bedroom probably reeked of cum, but he didn’t care.

He'd cum three times in a matter of hours. He was pretty sure he could cum again, but he had no idea what tomorrow had in store. He wanted to make sure his balls weren’t completely empty. Just in case.

He drifted off to a shallowly anxious sleep, remembering that Christy had said she was happily married and that she had a fulfilling sex life. Marcus knew he wasn’t ugly, but he knew he wasn’t top of the manpile either. ‘Sounds like she’s got good dick on tap, so why did she suck *my* dick?’ It was a question with no immediate obvious answer.
 

flatiron

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Marcus made his way into the city for his next sex therapy appointment. His earbuds were destroying his eardrums with Ministry’s ‘Psalm 69’. At this rate, he’d be deaf next week.

As he approached the building, he saw Christy in the square outside. She had a takeaway coffee in her hand. Marcus assumed she was finishing her lunch break, and that Marcus would be her first appointment of the afternoon. He noticed her wardrobe, and it was pretty much as he imagined the night before, except for the topless part (obviously). Christy was wearing a tight black top under an unbuttoned denim jacket. He immediately wondered what it’d be like to fuck her huge tits and to leave thick stains on the fabric.

Chicks wearing denim got him *so* fucking hot. He stared.

Christy caught him staring.

She winked.

Marcus’s jaw dropped.

He went into the building, caught the elevator to the 10th, and waited. A few minutes later, he heard the elevator ‘ding’, and Christy appeared. She walked over to Marcus and gave him a cute peck on the cheek. She left a light smudge of lipstick on his cheek.

Marcus had no idea what was in store for him over the next hour, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

Christy was wearing glasses today. He hadn’t known there was anything wrong with her eyesight. He was curious. “Hello, Christy. It’s great to see you again. I noticed you’re wearing glasses today? I didn’t know you wore them.”

Christy didn’t immediately respond to the question. She raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Marcus. Very nice to see you again too. Do you remember what we agreed at the end of our last session?”

Marcus tried hard to remember. The imagery of Christy emptying his sperm out of a condom into her mouth was his first recollection. As long as he lived, that memory would be tattooed onto his brain. “I can’t remember what you might be referring to.” He worried he was failing some kind of memory recall test.

Christy looked stern. “We agreed that from now on, you will refer to me as Miss Christy. Do you remember now?”

Marcus remembered. “Yes, Miss Christy. I remember.”

“OK then. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted out.” Christy continued. She shifted in her seat. Marcus noticed, but his mind was preoccupied on the present conversation. “So what were you asking me again?”

Marcus rephrased his question with the correct salutation. “I was wondering, Miss Christy, about your glasses. I don’t remember you ever wearing them before.”

Christy’s explanation was simple. “You definitely haven’t seen me wearing glasses before, Marcus, your memory isn’t defective.” Marcus wasn’t sure whether this was a reference to his memory lapse from a moment earlier. “I usually wear contacts, but I felt like giving my eyeballs a bit of a break today.”

Marcus fished for a compliment. “They suit you, Miss Christy. They make you look intelligent. Like, um, a sexy librarian.” (Marcus probably watched too much unimaginative porn.)

“Thank you very much, Marcus,” said Christy. “That’s sweet of you to say. But I don’t think I’m especially sexy.”

MARCUS BEGGED TO FUCKING DIFFER.

Marcus gulped. “I think you are, Miss Christy. And you’re clearly very intelligent. I noticed your diploma on the wall on my first visit.” He looked up at the wall, and there it was – a graduate diploma in sexual therapy. He wondered what types of things students would learn on a course like that.

“Thank you again, Marcus. That’s nice to hear.” Christy shifted again in her position on the couch.

Christy asked what Marcus’s sex life had been like since they last met. Marcus didn’t think he had any interesting tales to tell. Sure, he’d hooked up and gotten off, but there wasn’t anything especially juicy.

Christy wanted something to work with. “You don’t have anything you want to share with me? You know, Marcus, you only get out of therapy what you’re prepared to put in, and the same applies to sex therapy.” Marcus already knew what he wanted to put in, and he knew where he wanted to put it, but he also knew this wasn’t the thrust of Christy’s statement.

“OK so I met up with a guy who was into massage. I think he was a professional masseur, or was studying to become one. In any event, he really seemed to love his job, because after we got talking for a while, he said he takes every opportunity to practice his skill and hone his technique, and he suggested that since we were both horny, maybe he could give me a massage. I offered to give him a massage in return, but I told him I had almost no idea what I was doing. He responded with something like ‘hahaha ok dude whatevs give me your address’, and we set up a time and place for him to come over. It didn’t seem to matter at all to him that I was completely incompetent, but whatever.”

Christy took her glasses off. She was lost in thought. She put one of the temple tips into her mouth and gently sucked on it. She shifted in her seat again. Marcus was starting to worry. Christy seemed to be shifting from sitting to the right, to sitting to the left, and back again.

Marcus kept going. “Imagine my surprise when he shows up at my apartment building, at the agreed time, with a fucking massage table under his arm and with a sports bag slung over one shoulder. We greeted each other, but to be honest I was staggered that he seemed to have brought half of his home-office with him. He obviously wasn’t kidding about getting some practice in. I took the sports bag off his shoulder, we managed to get the massage table in the lift, and I opened the door to my apartment. We introduced ourselves. He was a bear of a man Stocky build, beautiful beard, thick ass thighs, sexy as fuck. He was pretty eager to get started. We moved my dining table out of the way and we set the massage table up in its place. I asked him what was in his sports bag and he opened it. I’d never seen so many different bottles of massage oils and lubricants in my life.”

Christy kept listening but she continued shifting in her seat. Marcus wondered if she was feeling at ease. She took notes.

“Are you OK for me to continue, Miss Christy? You seem a bit distracted.”

“No, I’m good,” replied Christy. “Please keep going.”

“We tossed a coin to see who’d get the first massage. I lost the toss, and I was very happy. I really wanted to get my hands on his chunky body. So he climbed onto the table face down. He was fully naked but I was still wearing my briefs. I can’t remember why I wasn’t also naked. He put his head in the little hole on the massage table, face downwards. I picked a bottle out of his sports bag and squirted some of the liquid onto my hands. I started rubbing his shoulders and back. I literally had no idea what I was doing. I know I get knots in my shoulders and back sometimes, so I know how awesome a good back massage can feel, but I don’t really know much about where the muscles are or how they connect or whatever. So I just rubbed, and I hoped he liked it. He seemed to like it a lot. I squirted some more oil into my hands and started rubbing the backs of his legs. I went down to his feet and I could feel tension in the soles of his feet, so I tried to massage that away. After that, I went to the backs of his calves and made my way up to his thick, meaty thighs. I massaged the fuck out of those thick chunks of flesh. I could’ve massaged them forever, but there was something else I wanted to massage.”

Christy squirmed again.

“I squirted some more oil onto my hands and started massaging his thick ass cheeks. He moaned. Very slowly, my hands moved closer and closer together until they eventually met in the middle. I put a finger in his ass and he sighed. I noticed he was starting to look really uncomfortable lying on his stomach, and I had a pretty good idea why. I told him to roll over and I found I was correct. Seven fat inches of dick stood upright, and there was a small puddle of precum on the massage table from where his cock was. I got some more oil and I massaged his chest and sucked on his nipples. I could’ve sucked on those mantits for a fucking week. I massaged his neck and he loved it. But I knew what this all led to. And you do too. Don’t you, Miss Christy?”

Christy shifted again. She looked really unsettled. She was still taking notes, but perhaps less diligently than required. Marcus was on a roll with his tale.

“I didn’t put any oil on his cock or his balls, because I had my own lubrication. I licked the tip of his dick and it twitched. He was already pre-cumming pretty hard. I spat on his dick and sucked him into my mouth. He gasped. I must’ve been doing a good job. The feeling of his warm, juicy meat on my tongue drove me wild. It didn’t take long for him to cum. I don’t think I’m especially good at blowjobs, but maybe I’m a bit better at giving a sensuous massage than I thought. He shot his load in my mouth and it was delicious. It tasted almost sweet. Almost. I’d definitely suck his dick again.”

Christy uncrossed her legs. “I’m really glad to know you had that experience, Marcus. Did anything happen after that?”

“Fuck yeah.” Marcus couldn’t wait to continue. “Now it was my turn. I took my underpants off and got on the table. I was so fucking horny. I didn’t care about the massage. All I wanted was for him to fucking get me off. I lay face down and he rubbed my back and my shoulders and my feet and my cheeks. I’m sure it would’ve all felt unbelievable if I was patient enough to relax and enjoy it because the man obviously knew his craft well, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t wait to be asked to roll over, I just did it. My dick was in front of his face and he swallowed it whole.”

Christy *really* seemed uncomfortable now. Marcus was mystified. Was she unwell? She’d stopped taking notes well before now, so he was a little bit concerned. She lifted her ass off the couch and sat back down again, and Marcus noticed her eyes roll back.

“Should I keep going, Miss Christy? Are you OK?”

“Yes, Marcus”, she replied. “Might’ve been something I ate at lunch. Please keep going. This information is most useful.” He noticed she wasn’t shifting left and right so much anymore, but up and down.

Marcus waited a beat, then continued. “There isn’t much left to tell, Miss Christy. I looked down at him and saw my dick in his mouth. I could feel his beard on my upper thighs, his hands on my legs, and his tongue swirling around the head of my cock. I couldn’t hold myself back, Miss Christy. I tried so hard but I couldn’t. When I looked down at him, I thought of my last therapy session with you when you made me cum in your mouth. I was lying on my back and I felt absolutely helpless. He sucked all of my hot semen out. He showed it to me, and then he swallowed it.”

Christy took in a deep breath and adjusted her posture again. “What happened next, Marcus?”

“Well, Miss Christy”, Marcus continued, “he asked me for a glass of water. I stood up and went to the kitchen and poured him some. We hugged. He folded up his table, I helped him repack his sports bag of oils, and I took him back downstairs. He drove off. I tried contacting him once or twice afterwards to say ‘hey that was so fucking awesome can we do it again sometime’ but he hasn’t responded. And so now I’m wondering if I did something wrong. It felt so good, but do you think I might have offended him somehow?”

Marcus looked genuinely concerned. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt someone’s feelings.

Christy thought hard. “It’s possible you might’ve upset him, Marcus, even though I’m sure you would never have meant to.”

“How? What did I do?”

Christy returned to her incoherent notes. “I noted down that you massaged his ass and you put your finger in his asshole, but then you asked him to flip over.”

“Yes, Miss Christy, I did. I asked him to flip over because he looked uncomfortable lying on his stomach, and I suspected it was because his cock was so hard. He was nearly fucking the massage table and I wanted to see if I could get him off”, was Marcus’s immediate reply.

“Maybe he wanted you to fuck him.” The air in the room was deathly still.

“Yeah. Maybe, Miss Christy. Maybe he did”, said Marcus.

Christy was silent for a moment, just to let the thought settle.

“Have you ever fucked a chick in the ass, Marcus?”

OK, we’re going there, thought Marcus. “No. Never. I mean, I’ve always wanted to. I love anal porn. There aren’t many things hotter than seeing a dick sink into an asshole.”

Marcus had no idea what to expect as a response, but as far as Christy was concerned, the game was up. The look on her face was pure lust. She stood up, removed her skirt, and pointed her ass at Marcus’s face.

Marcus now knew why Christy had looked so uncomfortable while she was sitting down. She’d had a fat vibrating buttplug buried in her rectum the whole time they’d been talking.

Christy knew exactly what Marcus felt like when he was lying on the massage table. She needed to get herself off. Immediately. Locking eyes with Marcus, and with the buttplug still deep inside her, she mashed her clit and sprayed the room.

After she stopped screaming from her violent climax (would anyone in the quiet adjoining waiting room have heard her?), she stood up. She approached Marcus where he was sitting on the opposite couch. She grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and yanked him to his feet. “So, you’ve never fucked a chick in the ass, have you? Well, today’s your lucky fucking day.”

Marcus was unable to process. “I’m sorry, Miss Christy, what do you mean?”

Christy was blunt. “Take this fucking buttplug out of my ass and bury your cock in me. Now.”

Marcus had never put a buttplug into anyone’s ass, so he wasn’t quite sure how to take Christy’s one out. He eventually got there, and he marvelled at how wide it was, and how Christy had had this beast inside her during their entire session so far. Christy gasped as it exited her sphincter.

Marcus had the perfect view of his sex therapist’s dilated anus. Christy had one hand on each ass cheek, spreading herself as wide as she possibly could. Marcus was hard as an iron bar. He wasn’t sure whether to put a condom on or not, but he wasn’t in the headspace to engage with the relevant issues. All he wanted was to feel his cock inside Christy’s warm asshole.

“I’ll get a condom out of the basket, shall I, Miss Christy?”, probed Marcus.

“Hurry the fuck up,” was the blunt response. “Get inside me. I really need you to fuck me in the ass.” Christy bent over to give Marcus easier access.

Marcus retrieved a condom from the basket, but this time he felt none of the performance anxiety or droopiness that many men associate with the life-or-death struggle with a condom wrapper. It wasn’t possible for a man to droop when an ass like Christy’s was waving in front of your face with an open invitation to bury yourself in it.

Marcus rolled it on and sank inside. Christy’s response was immediate. She touched her clit and came again, this time drenching the carpet. “You don’t get my pussy, Marcus. You don’t ever get my pussy. My cunt is only ever for my husband. My vagina is off limits. We love each other. We have an incredible sex life. But my ass is important in terms of therapy. Fuck my ass, Marcus. Keep fucking my ass. Are you learning anything, right now, Marcus?”

All Marcus was ‘learning’, if you want to call it that, was how much he loved sex therapy. He originally came to see Christy to try to understand why he couldn’t seem to fuck the people he loved, and now, months later, he finds his heavy balls smashing into the ass cheeks of his therapist. He was nowhere closer to answering his initial question, but he couldn’t give a shit.

As far as Marcus was concerned, Christy was sex on legs, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he was currently fucking her in the ass. He was determined to last as long as he possibly could. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Her poopshute wasn’t exactly tight, it had been dilated for the best part of an hour at least, but it was snug, tight and warm.

He turned into a human jackhammer. Christy flicked her bean and she came again. And again. The carpet was soaked with her spray. He flipped her over and fucked her ass missionary. He watched her face writhe in lust and she watched his mouth gape as he fired into her asshole. As his cock twitched inside her, she came again, this time faintly, as she felt her ass contract around his spasming cock.

As they caught their breath, Marcus was first to speak. “I’m not sure yet what I learned today, Miss Christy, other than how much I loved fucking your ass.”. His fat cock was still inside his therapist’s asshole.

Christy was quick. “Wait. Marcus. We’re not done yet.” She reached down to her asshole and made sure that when Marcus pulled out, the condom stayed on his cock. Although she was completely satisfied, she still wanted her prize. Marcus’s dick felt unbelievably sensitive as his dick exited the sexiest hole he’d ever been inside. Once he was out, Christy expertly removed the sheath from his cock.

Marcus watched, but he couldn’t put any words to his thoughts. Again, Christy poured his warm semen out of the spent condom and into her hungry mouth. She’d only just had lunch, but Marcus’s sperm was a rich dessert. There were faint shitmarks on the outside of the condom which in some strange way made it even hotter for Marcus to watch. The cum he’d shot in her asshole was now in her mouth. Christy swallowed.

Marcus valiantly tried to put the pieces together. He initially showed up today with very little to say. If pressed, he would’ve said he’d been jerking off for a month to the thought of Christy sucking him off, but never in a million years would he have thought that his therapist was buttplugged during their conversation, or that he’d end up fucking her in the ass.

This was all absolutely insane.

Christy reminded Marcus of the time. “Unfortunately, Marcus, we have to finish now. I hope you found this session to be of some benefit. I look forward to seeing you next month.” She hugged Marcus, and kissed him on the cheek.

Marcus settled his bill and confirmed his appointment for next month.
 

flatiron

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If Marcus had told anyone he was undergoing sex therapy with one of the sexiest women he’d ever laid eyes on, and that as part of ‘therapy’ she’d sucked him off and let him fuck her ass, nobody would’ve believed him – yet it had definitely happened and this wasn’t a dream. He was meant to be getting a deeper understanding of why he found it so hard to have sex with people he truly loved, and while he was no closer to that goal, he couldn’t have cared less right now. As part of his therapy, he’d experienced some of the best sex in his life.

A week after his last session with Christy, he received a short email from her.

“Hey Marcus. Hope you’re doing well and getting something solid out of our therapy. For our next session, I was wondering if you’d be able to come to my house. Our next session might work better if we held it outside my consultation rooms. Would that be OK? Christy”

Christy went on to give Marcus her address, and to remind him of the time and date of his next scheduled appointment. She ended with a lipstick emoji and Marcus felt his dick twitch.

Marcus knew he was definitely getting something ‘solid’ out of therapy – a solid rock hard dick.

“Hey Miss Christy, great to hear from you. Ummm yeah that sounds good to me. I’m really getting a lot out of our sessions. I’ll be there. Marcus.” He wanted to add “I literally can’t fucking wait to see what you’ve got in store”, but refrained.

The weeks dragged. Marcus went to work, he socialised with his friends and he was happy enough, but Miss Christy was constantly on his mind. He frequently found himself daydreaming about her, wondering what she was up to. He thought about her wet mouth and her sweet ass, sometimes finding himself popping a boner on the bus ride home from work.

Three days before his scheduled appointment, he received another email from Christy.

“Hey Marcus. I hope you’re doing well and looking forward to your next appointment with me. I wanted to make a slight change. My husband will be working from home while you’re here for our next session, and I wanted to make sure you’re OK with it. Can you let me know please? If you think you might be uncomfortable with him being here, or if you think you might not get the full benefit from our session, please let me know and we can reschedule. OK thanks babe xxx – Christy”.

Marcus strongly suspected that this would mean no practical demonstrations would take place at their next meeting, and that his dick would be staying in his pants. On balance, he thought that might be a good thing. At least he could try to make some headway on the key question that he wanted answers to.

“Hey Miss Christy. I think that will be OK. No problem at my end. See you in a few days. Marcus”.

Three nights passed, and Marcus found himself on the way to Christy’s house for his appointment. He wasn’t familiar with this part of town, and he had to research the public transport options to make his journey as efficiently as possible. Compared to where he lived, he noticed the houses were a little bit bigger, the gardens were a little bit tidier and the roads were a little bit wider. Soon enough, he found the house matching the address Christy had given him. He walked up the front path and rang the bell.

The door opened. “Hi Marcus, welcome to my home, come in.”

“Thank you, Miss Christy.” Marcus noticed, for the first time, Christy’s wardrobe was nothing special. He guessed that when you’re working from home, there’s nobody to impress. He remembered that on the odd occasion when he worked from home, he barely even bothered getting dressed, and he silently wished Miss Christy had the same idea. But no – she was definitely dressed, even if not spectacularly so.

Marcus stepped inside and noticed, in a distant room, which was probably a home-office, a man typing away on a keyboard. He was casually dressed. Christy’s husband, he assumed.

He noticed the man stand up and walk towards Christy and himself. The man extended an muscled arm. “Hey, man. Nice to meet you. I’m Christy’s husband. Name’s Alex”.

Marcus was confused. Why was Christy’s husband introducing himself to him? He had absolutely no idea, but he did what was expected and shook Alex’s hand. “I’m Marcus.”

Christy looked at Marcus and studied his face. She noticed his confusion. She looked back at her husband and they shared a sly smile that Marcus couldn’t see. Christy wondered what Marcus might’ve thought of Alex.

“OK, I’ll let you two get to it. Nice meeting you, Marcus.” Alex winked. He turned around and walked back towards his home-office.

Christy turned back towards Marcus and led him into her study. The room looked similar to her office in the city. They each took a seat, and Marcus wondered if Christy was plugged like last time.

Christy spoke first. “How’ve you been this last month, Marcus? Any sexual experiences or encounters you’d like to share?”

Marcus had absolutely nothing to put on the table. “Can I be honest with you, Miss Christy?”

“Of course you can, Marcus”, was Christy’s immediate response. “Honesty is crucial in therapy, otherwise it’s just a waste of time for everyone. Please be as honest as you can with me.”

“OK, Miss Christy. The truth is I haven’t had sex with anyone since our last session. I haven’t wanted to, and I haven’t looked for it. All I’ve wanted to do this past month is jerk off. I think about your mouth and I get hard. I think about your ass and I get hard. And then I jerk off. I haven’t felt this horny in years. A couple of times I even took care of business in a cubicle at work because there was no other way for me to get my concentration back.”

Christy looked pleased, almost as if this was exactly what she expected him to say. She paused for a moment, and then said “Marcus, you’ve just given me an idea. Stay here for a second.” She stood up and left the room. He heard her heels clicking on the hard wooden floorboards as she walked away.

She returned a minute later. “Marcus, I think today’s session needs to be about observation.”

“Observation, Miss Christy?”

“Yes, Marcus. Observation. You will observe.”

Marcus was confused. “I don’t think I understand, Miss Christy. What will I be observing?”

Christy looked him dead in the eyes. “You’ll be observing me. You’ll be watching me get fucked.”

The door opened, and Alex entered the room.
 

flatiron

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7 (continued)

The first thing Marcus noticed was that Alex was seriously fucking built. He had muscly arms, broad shoulders, thick thighs and big feet. And you know what they say about guys with big feet.

Alex said hello to Marcus again, ostensibly to acknowledge his presence. Marcus nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say or do, but he knew his role was to observe. He thought it best to remain quiet He wasn’t sure if he needed a pad and pencil to take notes, or even to try to draw what he saw. The situation was entirely new to him – other than watching porn, he’d never ‘observed’ people having sex.

Alex and Christy moved towards each other. Neither of them said anything. They kissed deeply, tongues dancing against each other, and Marcus was already semi-hard. Christy unbuttoned Alex’s shirt and began kissing his chest. She continued sinking further south and it was pretty clear to Marcus what her target was.

Christy unzipped Alex’s pants, and eight inches of thick meat fell out. Marcus actually gasped. This was so fucking hot already, and they hadn’t even started. Christy’s hands were massaging Alex’s shaft, and Marcus’s eyes widened as he noticed Alex’s cock grow a little more. Probably about eight and a half inches by now. Maybe even nine.

Christy got on her knees and started sucking, but a blowjob was not to be the main event.

Alex returned the favour. Christy got undressed and Alex lapped at her sweet, wet cunt. Before too long, Alex had Christy moaning and squirming, finding her clit with his tongue. Alex sank two of his fingers into Christy’s puss and he let his thumb pass lightly across her anus. Christy came, and Alex’s chin was glistening with her nectar.

Alex lay Christy on the floor and drove himself into her, missionary style. She came again, feeling his fat meat splitting her open. She looked at Marcus. “What are you seeing, Marcus? Are you observing?”

Marcus’s cock was straining against the fabric of his pants and he was pretty sure there was a puddle of pre-cum in his undies. “Well, Miss Christy, I don’t have a pen so I can’t take notes, but I’m watching you … have sex.”

Christy picked up on Marcus’s choice of words. “Having sex, Marcus? Feels to me like I’m getting railed by my hunk of a man and his thick cock. Wouldn’t you agree, Marcus?”

Alex was pounding her like a jackhammer. Christy was trying to provide her therapy service to Marcus, but it wasn’t an easy task while she was on her back with her husband’s cock in her.

“Well, yes, Miss Christy. You’re getting railed by a big dick. This is really fucking hot to watch.”

“Is there anything you’d like to do while you observe, Marcus?”

Marcus was hard as a rock. “I think I need to take my dick out, Miss Christy. It’s pretty hard right now. Would that be OK?”

Christy looked at Alex as if to say “OK with you?”. Alex looked at Christy as if to say “yeah, no problem with me”.

Christy gave permission. “Yes, Marcus, it’s OK if you’d like to get your penis out. It’s also completely OK if you want to masturbate while you’re observing.”

She came hard as Alex pistoned in and out of her.

Alex was getting close, and with a mighty alpha roar, he unloaded inside Christy’s wet pussy.

Marcus’s breathing got shallow. “Miss Christy, ummm I think I’m gonna cum… I can’t hold it in”. He hadn’t stroked his dick at all. All he’d done was take it out of his pants. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt quite this hard, or this desperate to cum.

Christy, the therapist of many talents, positioned herself so she could take Marcus’s dick into her mouth while Alex was still unloading, balls-deep in her snatch. Marcus came instantly, flooding Christy’s wet mouth with his warm jizz. Christy ran her tongue over the ultra-sensitive head of Marcus’s cock and he nearly exploded. Christy let Marcus’s dick fall out of her mouth and she swallowed his load. She pivoted back towards Alex and kissed him.

Marcus knew that even though Christy had swallowed, some of his sperm was now probably inside Alex’s mouth.

He had absolutely no idea what today’s lesson was, but he’d had his cock inside Christy’s mouth again, even just for a few seconds, and it was like heaven.
 

flatiron

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8

Marcus left his most recent sex therapy session with Christy feeling intellectually confused, probably because he’d just had one of the most intense sexual experiences of his life. Watching Christy get pounded by a well-built man – her husband – with a thick, fat cock, while he just sat there ‘observing’, was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He thought he probably would’ve climaxed even without touching himself, just from the sexual energy in the room, but as soon as Christy wrapped her lips around his dick, it was game over.

Marcus realised they hadn’t made an appointment for next month. His brain was too scrambled at the time he left Christy’s house to think straight. He wondered if Christy had noticed.

He put his earbuds in, cranked some death metal, and caught the bus home. He walked to the back of the bus and took a seat. He quickly got lost in thoughts about where he’d been in life, and where he currently was. He remembered being suicidal not so long ago; the mental repercussions of a relationship ending unilaterally still echoed within him. He remembered his first few meetings with the psych who helped him deal with his emotions, and he remembered his psych’s suggestion that he see a sex therapist.

He remembered how she looked when he arrived for his first appointment. He remembered Christy’s long black hair and her deep blue eyes. He remembered her massive breasts, and her fat ass. He remembered the short black leather skirt she wore the first day they met, and he remembered her lips were painted with the thickest, glossiest, red lipstick Marcus had ever seen.

His dick had since been inside that mouth. Twice. And once, inside her ass.

Sitting at the back of the bus, he boned up again. He felt like jerking off and spraying a thick load of semen all over the seat in front of him.

There were so many questions building up inside him. He emailed her a few days later.

“Hey Miss Christy, I hope you had a good weekend. So I was wondering. I’ve never seen a sex therapist before, so I didn’t have any preconceptions of what to expect when I came to see you. I thought we’d talk about sex things, but I never thought we’d actually undress. I thought therapy would be about thoughts rather than actions. I never thought you and I would engage in any sexual acts. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving our sessions, they just aren’t what I expected. While we were talking in our first session there was a moment when I watched your lips and tongue move and I completely lost track of what you were saying because I was imagining what it might feel like to put my dick in your mouth. I remember thinking ‘I bet sex therapists give the best head’. I *really* wanted to fuck your mouth. I hope that’s OK to say. But I honest to god never thought I’d actually feel your lips and tongue on my penis in real life, it was just a momentary fantasy, and I *definitely* never thought we’d have … anal sex … in your office. I know this question is a bit forward, and it might mean you don’t want me to see you anymore, but I’m just curious. Is this normal? Is this what sex therapists do? Is this what sex therapy is? If it is, I’m enjoying it immensely. I’m already looking forward to our next session, even though it’s almost a month away. I assume we’re good for next month? We didn’t set a date. – Marcus”

Christy responded the next day.

“Hi Marcus. Thanks for getting in touch with me and for showing an intellectual interest in my profession. To be honest, most of my clients are middle aged or even quite elderly. I’m happy to just talk with them, to share experiences, and to discuss sexual inhibitions and so on. Generally, that’s all they need. Most of these people were sexually active in a pre-porn era where religion distorted everything beautiful about sex, where the sexual act was primarily about procreation, and where you only ever had sex with your spouse. I spend my time with these clients talking about the freedom of sex and the joy people can get from sex, without hinting about how much time they’ve lost. You’re different. You’re young. I don’t have many young clients. And you’re actually the opposite of these people – they only have sex with people they love, but you came to me because you said you could only have sex with people you *didn’t* love.

You probably don’t know this, but I look forward to our monthly sessions with anticipation. If you’re wondering if you’re special to me, you are. I’ve actually only ever fucked one other client before, but that was a few years ago, before I got married, and he doesn’t see me anymore. Let’s not go there. It’s true to say you’re my only current client that I’ve sucked off, and you’re the only client I’ve ever had that’s fucked me in the ass.

Hey, your cum is really tasty, by the way. Has anyone ever told you that? Tastes so much better straight from the tap instead of from the dam – xx Miss Christy

PS you’ve got a really nice dick. You’re not huge, but huge isn’t everything, especially when it comes to anal. You felt really nice in my ass. You stretched me out nice, even though you weren’t inside me for very long. Maybe we can return to that one day. For therapy-related reasons, that is.”

See you in a month.”
Christy specified the date and time.

Marcus’s brain caught fire. As soon as he finished reading Miss Christy’s email, he yanked his pants down. You know what happened next – he came everywhere. Some of his cum volleyed off Christy’s email on his laptop screen. He licked it off.

Days passed. Suns rose and fell. Marcus went to work, and Christy saw her boring elderly clients.

Marcus emailed Christy two weeks out from their next appointment.

“Hi Miss Christy. I’ve been thinking about you and I’m really looking forward to our next session.”

It was an unspecific, innocuous, completely pointless email. Emails don’t get much vaguer than this. Even spam is more useful than this. Marcus didn’t even expect a response – seconds after he pressed enter, he regretted sending it.

Christy responded two nights later. For Marcus, it felt like two weeks. “That’s nice, Marcus. What have you been thinking about? – xxx Miss Christy”.

Marcus responded straight away without noticing the time. “How honest can I be with you, Miss Christy?” Marcus hit enter, then looked at the clock. Late. 2am. Christy probably had a full day of work ahead of her tomorrow, and Marcus did too, yet here he was, emailing her at bullshit o’clock.

Despite the hour, Christy’s response arrived instantaneously. “As honest as you feel comfortable being with me, Marcus. You know that. You’ve already been honest. You already told me how you wanted to ‘fuck my mouth’. That’s a pretty bold thing to tell your therapist.”

Marcus didn’t reply. He felt guilty for emailing Christy so late at night. He logged off and went to sleep, but when he checked his emails next morning, he noticed Christy had followed up with this:

“What comes after observation, Marcus? Action.

You know we’re going to fuck, don’t you, Marcus? You *know* we are.

Sleep well. --- xxx Miss Christy”


Lipstick emoji.

Eggplant emoji.

Splash emoji.

It was a good thing Marcus read this email before he got dressed for work. He shot ropes all over the bathroom mirror.