“Evelyn ”, Richard said as he opened the door, I walked from the waiting room to his office. I walked in, instantly facing the walls made of widows, sun was shining through on a cold, winter day. I took off my jacket, laid it on the couch, while I heard Richard close his office door behind me. Before I could turn to take a seat on his leather couch, he pulled me into him, embracing me from behind. He had a bundle of my hair in the grasp of his hands, tugging it, tilting my head slightly back, while he breathed down my neck, and slowly nibbled my shoulder. He then whispered, “ we are going to try something different today.”
He kept one hand interwoven between my red locks tightly, while the other I felt moving under my dress, gliding against my thigh, slowly to its destination. Then two fingers slipped in my thong, and into my wet pussy. I took a huge breath, as I often forget to breathe around him. Richard slowly moved his fingers in and out of my body, every time they entered me, it was faster and harder. I started to moan. “Evelyn , I want to introduce you to exposure therapy. I feel this might help with past traumatic events.” Before I could ask how him fingering me was related to my therapy, he whispered, “Trust me.”
Richard pulled his fingers out with such force, took his pussy, soaked hand, and I could hear his belt coming undone, followed by his pant zipper pulled down. He let go of my hair, pushed me hard onto the couch. I felt the room spinning. I was lying flat along the couch, my face on the pillow, as Richard hovered over me. He leaned into my ear, and asked, “ you were raped, yes?”, the question took me off guard. “What?!”, I replied. He grabbed my hair again, pulling my head next to his, “ I won’t ask again, yes or no?” With no hesitation, I replied with a yes. This was not usually how our sexual sessions went. They were always so sensual, although I always liked it a little rough. “ How many men raped you”, Richard asked. Once again, I spit out the words, “3 men.” He lifted up my dress, slipped my panties down my legs, and threw them on the floor. “Good girl. Now, how did they do it?” I had talked to Richard about this in one of our sessions, but we both knew that I was drunk that night, and had barely no memory of what happened. Just that three guys were there. Richard slapped my ass, aggressively whispering, “Remember.” I felt a feeling of dread, panic… I don’t know if I liked this. I tried to get up, make sense of what was going on, but he shoved my face in the pillow, and held me down. “Remember!”, Richard hissed. I whimpered, “ no, please don’t.” “How?”, he hissed again. “From behind”. The words just slid out, and all of a sudden, images I had no memory of, flashed in my mind. “Perfect”, he arrogantly said.
Richard raised my hips up to him, I could feel his hard cock, stroking my ass, up and down, back and forth, he stroked. Is this what he meant by exposure therapy? Reenact the event? “Richard, no, I can’t do this”. All I could see were blurry faces of the three boys, while each took their turn with me. “Trust me”, he reassured. I did, I did trust him, I was not saying no to him, I could never. How I crave his thick, dick. His smooth fingers, cupping my breast, or rubbing my clit, until I came. It was the people he was portraying, the memories that I had suppressed, flooding my memory bank. Before I could process any further, I moaned, Richard had just thrusted inside me. He held onto my hair with his one hand still, his other hand grasped the back of my neck, pushing my face into the pillow, while he picked up momentum. Not the usual, sensual fuck, he was fucking me hard. Banging so hard, my ass clapped. I bit the pillow, and squeeze the couch cushions. Finally he slowed down, relaxed his grasp around my neck, allowing me to breathe. I felt him lean down again, whispering in my ear, “ remember anything?”, “yes”, I forced out. “Tell me more, what else happened?”
“ At one point, they had me on my back, they each took turns fucking me, while the other two would bite my breasts, and rub their dicks across my face.” Richard flipped me on my back, and pound his cock inside me, so hard it hurt. He threw my legs straight up in the air, and bit my thigh. I screeched. He let my legs fall, spread them, and as he thrusted as hard as he could, his long body, lean down into my breast, and he took a bite at one. I tried to push him away, but his 6’8, muscular stature, was too much for me. I’m sure he wanted me to feel this way. I laid there defeated, then he asked, “What else do you remember?”, “nothing”, I said surprisingly sad. “ They had to have drugged me, because besides those recent memories, all I remember is being dropped off at my dorm, and waking up the next night naked.”
Richard stopped, got off of me, and went and sat in his therapy chair. My head was spinning. I didn’t want him to stop. Yes, the trauma he brought up, made the sex painful, but I craved him. “ Why did you stop?!”, I hissed. “ Exposure therapy”, he smirked. “ Try to recreate an incident, put you under pressure, to recover memories, and make you stronger by being able to relive it.” “How do feel?”, he asked so calmly. “ I feel pissed off, at those men for raping me, and you for blue balling me.” Richard chuckled. “However, I have never been able to recover any memories of that night, nor talk about it, so I guess your unconventional method worked. “Success”, he said with a big grin. “Now, we need to increase your dopamine levels, but the homeopathic way.” “Whatever the doctor says”, as I bit my lower lip.
Richard got up from his psychologist throne, walked over to me and picked me up, placing me right on his cock, while my legs wrapped around his hips. My chest against his. I moaned repeatedly, as he stood there and thrusted inside me. I ran my nails up his back, leaving red marks. It’s just a rough session today. He groaned, slid me down his legs to the floor, where he joined me. He spread my legs, looked up at me, his head resting on my stomach, smiled that grin, and then his tongue met my clit. He brought one hand up to squeeze my left breast, and with his free hand, stuck his two longest fingers deep inside me. “ I want to cum, then fucked you hard from behind again”. It didn’t take long, until I was holding my breath, from the explosion that was about to happen. “Cum for me”, he demanded. “ Ahhhhhh”, I moaned. “ Fuck!”
Richard grabbed my waist, flipped me over onto my knees, and immediately, his dick filled my soaking, wet pussy. Although, we did this just moments before, during, “exposure therapy”, this time felt so much better. He slapped my ass, and I just wanted more. I could feel him embrace me harder, his body grew more and more tense, until I felt one final thrust. “Oh fuck!”, he shouted. He pulled out, cum dripping from me, rolling onto his back. I flipped myself on top of him, hovering over his legs. I looked at my watch, “ 10 minutes left, one more round?” He smiled, and before he could agree, I had my lips pursed around his dick. Deep throated it, as he let out a giant moan.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/p0qazp/sex_therapy_with_my_psychologist_mf_heterosexual