My Therapist pt 3
Introduction:
“session’s over. feel like a shower?”
“if you like, we can decompress this way,” she said to me, smiling. “you can be the cuddler this time.”
I didn’t wait too long. I hopped over the back of the couch like some parkour junkie, plopping down behind her. She laughed, popping up into the air for a second. I put my arm around her, feeling a little confident in myself. I did sweet, little things like kiss her shoulder and her neck a few times. Patch looked back at me, giggled, and nuzzled with me.
“we’re being sweet, aren’t we?” patch asked, kissing me softly. She grabbed my arm by the wrist and moved it south on her person. Essentially, she let me give her the same treatment she had given me the day before, and she had been eager to do so.
The following day, Patch had called me and asked if I felt like having a free session. that usually meant that she just wanted to hang out. I eagerly drove over, wanting to possibly have a chance to get more serious in this scandalous web we were weaving. As I walked through the door, a girl was leaving. She stopped me, looking back at Patch. “So this is the MAN you were with? hmm? you’re a sloppy slut, you know that?”
Instantly, my old fashioned ways were shown in the best caliber they could. I puffed out my chest and looked at the girl. “don’t call my friend a slut. I won’t hit a woman, but I’ll smack a frigid bitch if she’s insulting my friend!”
Patch smiled a little. The girl in front of me, named lala, looked back in my direction.
“This one has a mouth!”
patch just yawned, hands on her hips. “he’s got a lot more than that.” She started, her heels clicking off the floor as she walked toward us. She shooed lala away, pulling me into the living room. Little did I know I’d meet lala again in a few days.
Patch and I sat down and talked about what had been going on between us. we called the two things “the shit and the taboo shit.” Sadly, patch couldn’t stay my therapist if our sexual meetings got serious. she said she could tell me what I could do, but it wasn’t something I could show a doctor or something like that. I told her if she wanted to let things get serious, it was her call.
After out little talk I went to cook some dinner for the two of us. She toyed with me at the stove, grinding against me as much as she could without making me burn myself. After I was done and we ate, Patch said she felt like taking a shower.
“feel free to join me if you like.” she said, looking back at me at her table. I thought about it for a minute.
“you don’t wanna. I’ll be alright.”
When she finally made it upstairs and shut her room door, I bolted down the hall, up her stairs, and into her room. There were clothes on the floor already. Damn, she was fast…
I walked into her bathroom, seeing her through the frosted glass just barely. When I opened it, she was wearing a one-piece bathing suit.
“Ha! I knew you’d come up,” she said, looking at me. “swimsuits only!”
“I don’t have a swimsuit…” I said.
“you have underwear on, silly boy…”
my clothes were off. I stripped down to my boxer briefs and stepped into the shower, pushing patch against the wall. See, I’m not a fan of bikinis. A girl in a bikini leaves nothing to the imagination. a one piece suit is mysterious. it means I get to strip it off.
“hey, slow down tiger,” she said, running her tongue against my bottom lip. “this thing is a size or two too small…it’s a little tight in places…” Patch turned the hot water on, locking lips with mine.
She had planned all this. Maybe I was scaring her straight? I wasn’t sure at the time. the only thing I knew was that there was a red-headed woman bucking under me, wanting me to try to convince her that guys aren’t all terrible. I played with a nipple as I kissed her, feeling it pop against my finger through the material of her swimsuit. she pushed me away, moving me against a wall in her shower. she grabbed the waist of my undies and pulled down.
“wow…I mean I felt it but…damn kin, look at that thing.” She said to me. I had said in an earlier story that I’m pretty average in the length department, but patch had never seen a man’s manhood outside of a sex flick. She stroked it a few times before she grinned and took me into her mouth.
the only words I could get out right away were “holy” and “fuck”. Patch had a small mouth and had never done something like this, but there was something passionate in her trying. that passionate something felt waaaay too good. I barely made it four minutes before her tongue moved in, wrapping around my member slowly, sensually flicking against the head of my manhood a few times as she’d take it in and out of her mouth. She took me as far in as she could, gagging suddenly. I felt terrible when I climaxed right after she had gagged. She looked up at me as if I had done something bad, but took the head of my manhood between her lips. I watched her try again, her throat bulging as I felt my hot seed slip between the space I took up in her throat. I literally buckled when she let me go, sitting in her shower.
“that was…,” she started, looking at me with those eyes “…your thing tastes good, kin.”
We both laughed a little before she laid on her stomach, watching me. “kin, come here. play with me.”
she climbed up on me, strategically putting my hand between her legs. She grinded on the heel of my hand for something like twenty minutes as she stroked my recovering member, letting me peel her top down just enough to let me wrap my tongue around her nipples for a little while. I learned that patch could very vocal. She would moan loudly in my ear, telling me not to stop or that it was too good. besides the shower, I could feel fluid gathering between her legs. I moved my hand away, then pushed hers from my member. I moved my shaft against the swollen labias that were pushing against her one piece suit. at first, she seemed a little confused, but as soon as she bit my ear and said not to stop I knew she was liking it a bit too much.
Breathlessly, patch spoke into my ear. “Kin, I don’t want to go…that far just yet.” This was followed by an aggressive “fuck” escaping her throat.
“it’s alright.” I said. I wasn’t heartbroken, but it would’ve been nice to culminate all of this by her and I having some hot, angry “not thinking”. We laid on the shower floor, fondling each other, kissing from time to time.
part of me wants to keep doing this. The other part of me wants it to stop so I can keep getting help. I’ll tell you about black Friday in the next one.
