So there we are, about two weeks later. She couldn’t see me last week because she was still taking care of her mother. She was able to come this week because her mother passed away so she was back to her home, with her husband and children, and needed to see me. *Her words.* She called me last Sunday on my cell phone, which I had given to her the night we had coffee at the coffee shop. You know, the night I went to her mom’s house and jerked off with her hand. Yeah, that’s the night. So, I gave her my number and nearly two weeks later she called me. She could’ve called my secretary like she did last week when she had to reschedule. But she called me on a Sunday evening. I could tell she had been drinking, her words were sliding together. “Dr I know I shouldn’t be calling you like this but my mom. She passed. And I need to talk to you. I need you to see me. I need to see you. Well okay then. I’ll talk to you soon I hope.” She struggled to end the call and that voicemail, I am not ashamed to say, was played many, many times both out loud and later in my mind. Anyway, that’s how we got to the appointment.
She is sitting at my couch, legs crossed at the ankle, wearing a form fitting black mini dress. It has a high neck and long sleeves but hugs her DD tits perfectly and shows off that ample ass of hers. A funeral dress or not, she looks fucking terrific. Her hair is pulled into a low bun behind her head, she is wearing minimal make up and her eyes are red. Her appearance tells me she has come from the funeral. Her body language tells me she is sad. Her facial expression tells me she feels hopeless. *Maybe*, I think to myself, *what she really needs more than my therapy is a good, long, deep sleep*. *Maybe she needs to rest to feel better.* I reasoned with myself that if I helped her get that rest, I’d be helping her more than therapy. Yes, that’s right. *Justify, justify, justify.*
“I am truly saddened to hear that you lost your mother. She must have been a tremendously special person to create a woman like you.” I wondered once it left my lips if it was too complementary or too personal. Her eyes softened momentarily and her cheeks grew rosy. She liked it, I could tell. “Thank you, Dr. And I just wanted to say,” she paused nervously as if summoning courage for the next part. “I never really apologized to you for drinking too much that night. I don’t even remember getting to bed.” She kept her head hung low, telling me she was ashamed. I hopped into the conversation to lighten the mood going forward. “Don’t worry about any of that,” I said, leaning forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my desk. When she came into the office, I was in the process of sifting through the pharmaceuticals the rep had left me. I was actually looking for anything that could be masked as a tranquilizer, to use on her of course. “Its just so strange we happened upon each other that evening, in another town, in a random coffee shop.” She nodded her head, a strand of long dark hair breaking loose from her ear and dangled down by her face. “Strange indeed,” she said, making direct eye contact with me. My heart fluttered. In that brief moment I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered how much she was catching onto. I mean, she falls asleep in my office, week after week. How could she not have another thought? I almost—*almost*—started to feel she was pretty stupid for not wondering. But before I could explore that thought, she spoke again and it clarified my thoughts.
“Do you believe in fate?” she asked, still not breaking eye contact with me. Patients very often became attracted to me and not because I am attractive. I mean, I am a handsome guy but they become attached to me because I listen, I understand and I help. It’s my job but it attracts them to me without them initially even knowing it. And by the time they’ve figured out how they feel, they don’t even care if it’s just because I’m their therapist. They’ve convinced themselves I’m the best man. I’m the listener. I’m different than the rest and if they just *had* me in their lives, they wouldn’t have a worry in the world. Of course, this isn’t true and I made sure to let them know that attachments to mental health professionals were common and that they shouldn’t be embarrassed. In this case, though, I think my best route is to indulge this “fate” fantasy she was telling herself.
“Talk to me about it,” I said, leaning back comfortably in my chair and interlocking my hands in my lap to show her I had time and I was interested. “I was supposed to see two other shrinks. I mean, I cancelled the first appointment with one and then felt too embarrassed to call again so I called another. And then I flaked on that one too. When I called your office, I made the appointment from the parking lot, knowing I wouldn’t back out.” Her eyes were wide with hope and excitement. “And when I’m in here with you, I’m more comfortable than I am at home, talking to my husband. I leave here so relaxed. And I don’t think it’s the heater,” she smiled at me before continuing. “My body is so much more relaxed. My mind is clear. I mean, I don’t sleep well at home but when I’m here I don’t even know I’ve fallen asleep. I vent and I rest and all I can think is that it’s not this place but it’s us. It’s our connection.” Her cheeks were growing rosy. She was embarrassed and it probably took a lot of rehearsing that to get it out. In a way, I was proud of her. She was completely wrong, but I was still proud of her. And I was happy too. She was making this pretty easy.
“I do believe you are right,” I said, keeping my hands interlocked in my lap. Her eyes widened for a moment—she was surprised I agreed. She must’ve thought she would have to battle me on this one. *No, no, my dear, whatever you want to believe to keep you coming here to see me. I’ll go with it.* “But what does that mean to you?” I asked, playing the inquisitive Doctor role. All I really cared about was if she was going to continue coming here to see me. I could start an affair with her, yes, but without the drugging and taking advantage I just didn’t know if I could stay interested.
“I have never felt connected to someone. I have never felt safe with anyone. The ground underneath me is always moving,” she moved to the edge of her chair and leaned in towards the desk. “I feel stable and safe with you. And then at the hardest time of my life, you’re there.” *I knew my stalking would pay off.* “Let’s move to the couch and explore this idea in our session,” I said, standing and motioning her to the couch. My chair was behind the couch still, positioned perfectly to expose myself while she spoke. I wasn’t sure what my plans were for today just yet but I had a nice cocktail ready to go for her. I had injected my own personal mix into the side of a new water bottle and glued the label over the injection site after sealing it with glue. I handed her the bottle as she settled into the couch, resting her head on the pillow. I settled in behind her, scribbling nothing on my pad but scribbling loud enough for her to think I was starting my notes. I heard the seal on the bottle break as she twisted it open and drank it down. It was a small bottle, the kind they pass out to kids at sporting events, so she managed to drink the entire thing in a couple of swallows. I always imagined if she’d swallow me the way she drank her water. The thought had me getting hard.
She began talking about how her husband failed to see her, failed to understand her, I don’t know what else. All I could think is how much easier this was going to be now that I knew she wanted me. She would be eager to come to appointments now. She may even come in sexier clothes and she would be the one searching for me on the internet, not the other way around. She may even try to put a move on me at some point, though I wasn’t sure how I would react to that. But she continued to rattle on until she dozed off. I still couldn’t believe she didn’t understand the dizzy, tired feeling of the narcotics but the less she understood, the better for me.
As soon as she was out for a few minutes I stood up and walked over to her. She was wearing a fuzzy black sweater and a pink pair of chinos. I lifted the sweater up, wondering how I’d ever get her bra off and to my surprise, she wasn’t wearing a bra at all. Her full mounds peered up at me, nipples erect. My dick was hard already. I carefully unbuttoned her pants and slid them down to her thighs. Her underwear was cotton candy colored pink; very innocent looking. Between her thighs the fabric of her underwear was dark. She was wet. Talking to me made her wet. *Holy shit.* I began unzipping my pants immediately. There was something about taking advantage of her while she was unconscious that really made me horny but it was quite another thing to do it when I know she was thinking of me in that way, too.
I got on my knees in front of the couch and pulled her lower half slightly off. I parted her knees and leaned forward, resting my lips against her panties. I slowly let my tongue drag up and down the wet spot on her panties, tasting a mix of fabric softener and her sweet, peachy juices. She remained motionless, telling me I could proceed. I pulled her panties down and exposed a bare, swollen set of lips that begged to be parted. So I did.
I used my tongue to part them and found my way to her clit. Engorged and wet, I traced her clit with my tongue several times before feeling my cock leak pre cum. I imagined her writhing and moaning to my every lick and circle I made. I continued to go down on her and began rubbing my cock against the bottom of the couch. Could she cum while she was unconscious? She got wetter and wetter until I pulled away and slid two fingers deep inside her gap. I probed into her several times with great strength, watching her breasts jiggle and flop. *What would it be like*, I wondered, *to feel my cock inside of her pussy for just a few moments while I grabbed those sweet tits of hers?*
I stood up and pulled her legs back onto the couch, dragged her panties and chinos to her ankles as I did so. I climbed on top of her, my cock sticking out of the zipper of my jeans. I pressed my cock head against her clit and moved circles around it for a moment before pushing myself into her with all my force. Fuck, her pussy was both wet *and* tight. I pumped into her a few times, my intention was to pull out and come somewhere else. I wasn’t usually a two-pump guy. But the fact that I knew she was wet for me, it had me so hard. My cock was oozing precum while I fingered her and now that I was ramming my thick cock into her as she slept soundly? It suddenly became too hard to hold back. I quickened my pumps and without being able to stop myself began moaning loudly as I shot my massive load into her. She twitched a little as I unleashed pump after pump of hot, warm fluid inside of her tight cunt. Fearful of her waking from my moaning and jostling, I pulled my cock out of her and pulled her underwear and pants back up, pulled her sweater down and stood over her. Would my cum ooze out of her all day? I didn’t care. Let her wonder. I was so enjoying raping her and having my way with her that I didn’t even care about what she would think. All I could do is think about how fucking hard I got when I fucked her.
Even though I had just bust a nut, I was still hard. I stood over her face and pushed my cock into her mouth, letting her teeth gently scrape against it. I felt precum ooze out of me again. Her tongue was warm, her mouth was inviting. I slipped a hand under her fuzzy little sweater and squeezed her fat titty hard. It was soft and full, a real breast. I wondered if she didn’t wear a bra because she wanted me to see her rock-hard nipples through her sweater. Little did she know that I had already tasted those sweet titties and put my dick between them. I squeezed her tits for the next few minutes while I forced her unconscious mouth to pleasure me until I was ready to come again. I couldn’t unload in her mouth, she’d choke. This time I tucked my cock down into my boxers right as I was about to cum and unloaded. Cumming in my pants reminded me of when I was younger and things were just so hot I couldn’t help it. That’s how she made me feel. Fucking her was so hot I did things I just couldn’t help.
Before I sat back down in my chair and waited for her to awake, I lifted her sweater one more time and kissed her nipples gently. *This fucking body*, I thought to myself. I couldn’t wait to see her ass. That would take far more planning but I was definitely up for it.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ep9wzc/the_bad_doctor_part_5_nsfw_rape_mf
You mentioned two different outfits for the same appointment