My Therapist

Aya continued staring out through the glass at the pale-yellow daffodils that drooped, lifeless, from their pot on the windowsill, evidently having suffered weeks, maybe months, of neglect. 

“Aya?” 

Dr Shepherd’s voice resonated through the small, dimly-lit room, making her body twitch slightly in response, snapping her back to reality. She shifted in her seat, readjusting the cushion behind her so that it fit comfortably against the small of her back. 

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat, her voice having become hoarse in the moments since she had last spoken.  “What was the question?”

As often happened, Aya’s mind had wandered off, one thought snowballing into the next until it was almost as though she had been transported to another world, lost in a sea of thoughts and indecipherable feelings.

“I said, do you feel like we’re nearing the real issue that’s causing you distress, that you’ve eluded to before?”

Although his voice was soft and unthreatening, Dr Shepherd emphasized the words slowly and deliberately, his brown eyes boring into hers, into her soul, Aya felt. 

She knew what he meant. This was now Aya’s tenth session with Dr Shepherd, and both he and the small room of his fourth-floor office, which overlooked a small river on the outskirts of the city, had grown to feel surprisingly familiar to her. They had discussed a lot of things in their previous nine hours together. Aya’s difficulties in her romantic relationships, her unresolved feelings towards her absent father and distant mother, her self-described commitment issues, and her unpredictable self-esteem of undefeatable highs and crippling lows. But since day one she had spoken obscurely of what she felt was a more worrying issue than all the rest, one that absorbed her everyday and filled her with mixed emotions of shame, doubt, desire and, at times, exhilaration. She had never before felt able to say it aloud, to anyone, out of embarrassment or fear of rejection, she wasn’t sure. But today felt different. She finally felt ready to share her most inner thoughts. 

Dr Shepherd continued, filling the silence that once again had engulfed the room.

“You’ve said that you’ve been feeling a growing ability to be open and honest with me in our past few sessions.”

He paused, as if waiting for her permission to go on, but she continued to stare back at him, silently, waiting to hear what he would say.

“I’m getting the sense that you might be ready to tell me what you’ve struggled to say this far. You’ve told me that there is a deeper issue that you really want my help with, but which you have a lot of reservations about sharing.” 

He paused again, raising one eyebrow inquisitively.

“How are you feeling right now?” 

His voice was gentle and calming, and a brief silence followed. 

“I’m feeling brave.”  

Aya was surprised at her own voice, at its steadiness and its conviction. Something, again she wasn’t sure what, had evoked an old familiar feeling of fierce self-assurance in that moment, one she hadn’t felt in a long time, and the voice inside her head told her that she should grab it and run with it. 

Dr Shepherd’s reaction to her response was subtle and hard to read. It was always difficult to know what he was thinking, something Aya attributed to his years of practice as a trained listener, but she could have sworn that a fleeting moment of pleasure had flashed across his face, a momentary glint in his eyes and a slight upward twitch of one corner of his mouth. 

Aya’s eyes scanned the room, for what felt like the one-hundredth time.

It was plain but cosy, the decor somewhat masculine. The two black leather armchairs on which they sat faced each other by the small, curtained window, separated by a rectangular mahogany coffee table, on which there was always placed a jug of water and two highball glasses. A long wooden bookcase housed a variety of books, from fictional classics that Aya recognised to thick textbooks on cognitive psychology and therapeutic practices. A single potted olive tree sat in the corner and various antique-looking lamps lit up the otherwise dim room. The dark crimson walls were bare except for several framed academic certificates and two large abstract paintings, which Aya had carefully researched after her first visit and found to be the work of Hans Hoffmann. Rather expensive and impressive pieces for an office, she had thought. 

“Aya?” 

Dr Shepherd’s voice resounded through the room once more, and Aya took this as a request to go on. 

“I think I’m a sex addict.” 

She blurted the words out quickly, before she had lost the confidence to do so. This time she was sure. What could only be described as a smirk beamed across his face, if only for a nanosecond. But Aya had caught it, and she felt her cheeks burning. 

“OK”, was all Dr Shepherd said in response. 

A long silence followed, what felt like an eternity to Aya. Dr Shepherd shuffled himself in his seat, uncrossing his top leg and recrossing the other. 

“Let me ask you this” he said matter-of-factly. “That is if you don’t mind me asking” he added. 

“How many people have you had sex with, do you know?” 

Aya thought for a moment, although of course she knew the answer straight away. She had been with her ex-boyfriend, Sam, for eight years, a relationship which had only ended three months ago after he proposed on her 27th birthday. It was the moment she had fully realised that she was not ready for a real commitment. Before him there had been only one other guy at school, whom she had spent several months with before moving across the country for university. Those were the two guys. The only two guys. And yet… 

She caught herself again drifting into thought, and snapped her mind back to focus. Her response was quiet but she spoke clearly. 

“Two.” 

Dr Shepherd removed his glasses and cleaned them with a corner of his white shirt before replacing them, all the while watching Aya closely, who was now looking down at her hands while fiddling with a button on her blouse. 

“What makes you say you’re a sex addict, Aya?” 

She loved when he used her name. He had a great voice, deep and powerful yet quiet, and he pronounced her name perfectly, something not everyone did, and made it sound pretty, musical even. 

“I know it sounds silly” she began. “A sex addict who has only ever had sex with two people. But you don’t understand. I think about sex all the time. I always have done. When I was with Sam, I fantasized about other people constantly. Although I never did anything, the thoughts were still there. When I was alone, when I with Sam, even when we were having sex.  Strangers on a train, passersby on the street, my colleagues, my friends, Sam’s friends, even Sam’s brother. No one and no moment seems off limits for my brain. And now that I’m not with Sam anymore, I think it’s getting worse.”

Aya stopped to catch her breath. She had been talking fast and her heart was racing, her breathing fast and her cheeks flushed. She hadn’t expected all those words to just spill out of her, but once she had started they had kept coming, unable to control or limit all the truths that she was confessing. She looked at Dr Shepherd and it seemed as though he, too, was flushed. He looked slightly uncomfortable even, on edge almost? She couldn’t quite make sense of it. 

“What do you mean when you say you think it’s getting worse?” he asked. 

She paused and thought, scanning the room around her, as if she’d find inspiration for the answer from something her gaze met. 

“I guess it’s because there’s nothing holding me back anymore, since I’m no longer with Sam. There’s no reason not to fulfill my fantasies now. And it’s like my brain knows that, and so it’s pushing me harder than ever to act out on my impulses, on my desires… sometimes I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Aya’s face was slightly contorted, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed, so that it was clear she didn’t think fondly of the words she was speaking. 

“Do you think it would help at all if you told me one of your fantasies?” Dr Shepherd asked, one eyebrow raised again. “As a way to release the pressure, perhaps… without acting out on it.” 

Aya couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. She never before could have even imagined being able to have such an intimate discussion about her sex life and her libido with another man she barely knew. And yet here she was, discussing it, and if anything her boldness was growing by the minute, spurred on by every confession she made, ready to be yet more courageous. 

“Well…” she began, “there’s a sort of generic one I have quite a lot, with attractive strangers. ” She paused in thought. “Say for example I’m on the train, and I catch a stranger’s eye. He maybe smiles slightly and I smile back. I’m sitting down and he’s standing up, maybe leant against the wall of the carriage…” 

Aya was absorbed in her own story at this point, vividly imagining the narrative she had gone through in her mind many times before, now able to quickly whittle off the details. 

“We look at one another for a long time, and he comes and sits down next to me, all the while maintaining eye contact. In my fantasy I’m wearing a skirt. It’s late at night so there’s hardly anyone there.”

At this point she briefly hesitated, unsure about the words she was about to speak.

“He’s able to part my legs with one hand and he finds that I’m not wearing any underwear. He gives me a knowing smile and slowly slides his fingers inside of me…” 

Aya quickly caught herself, lost in the moment, and blushed a deep red. 

“I guess it escalates from there ” she trailed off. 

A silence followed, but only for a brief moment this time. 

“Is it usually strangers that spark your fantasies?” Dr Shepherd inquired. 

“No” she answered surprisingly quickly. 

She thought for a second. 

“I mean, I feel like I fantasise about everyone, all the time. But the fantasies with strangers aren’t nearly as exhilarating as the ones…” she trailed off again. 

“As the ones…?” Dr Shepherd seemed unusually eager for her to continue. 

But Aya wasn’t sure whether she should continue. She still felt that new-found confidence, spurring her on, but something told her this was totally inappropriate to be saying to a man she knew all of 10 weeks. 

“I guess… I guess men who I feel like I know, on some personal basis, can excite me on a whole other level than handsome strangers.” 

“Go on…” Dr Shepherd urged her gently. 

“I guess I feel like the sex would be so much more intimate. A lot more passionate.” 

Dr Shepherd’s face had taken on a light shade of pink, as though he were very slightly warm, although Aya wasn’t sure whether she was imagining it. 

“So, someone you know personally? ”

“Well, yes” Aya responded. “Especially someone intelligent and accomplished, confident but who’s also caring with a softer side… with whom I feel a connection.”

Dr Shepherd didn’t leave room for any silence this time. “Have you ever felt about me that way?” 

Fuck. He could see right through her. Of course she had been thinking about him in that moment, when she was describing someone strong and impressive, yet gentle. But she had thought she was hiding it well, keeping things generic in order to remain subtle. 

Although, maybe she didn’t want to be subtle? On some level, Aya knew, she wanted Dr Shepherd to know how she felt. She wanted him to know that she ached for him, more than anyone she’d ever ached for, that her whole body craved him from head to toe, something that manifested in a real and physical feeling as she sat here across from him. She wanted him to know that what she desired, more than anything, was to leap out of her seat across to where he sat, wrap her legs around him and place her mouth on his for a long, passionate kiss. 

It was almost as though Dr Shepherd could hear her thoughts, or at least read them through her body language and the fierce heat that coursed through her in that moment, because what he asked next was even bolder than his previous question. 

“Do you fantasise about having sex with me, Aya?” 

Although his words were daring, his voice and demeanour were still completely professional. He stood up, brushing his shirt with two hands as though to iron out the wrinkles.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

Aya couldn’t think straight. She gazed at his hands. She had always had a thing about hands, ones that looked strong and masculine with long fingers and short, well-kept nails. 

“Do you want me, Aya?” His voice was louder and rougher now, almost impatient. 

All Aya could manage was a nod, barely imperceptible. 

Before she knew what was happening, Dr Shepherd had come round to her chair, scooped her up effortlessly and placed her down on her back on the large coffee table. The jug of water and glasses fell to the carpeted floor, but Dr Shepherd didn’t flinch, his full attention on what he was doing. He undid the first couple of buttons of her blouse, slowly and deliberately, all the while his brown eyes never leaving hers. 

“You know I’m not as soft and gentle as you may think” he said with a smirk. Aya couldn’t help feeling a shiver down her spine at the sound of his voice, deep and sexy. 

With that he pulled on either side of her blouse so that the remaining buttons flew off and the blouse fell to her sides, the sound of tearing fabric making her wild with excitement.

As she wasn’t wearing a bra, her supple breasts were laid bare for him to see, her chest heaving with each breath. He grabbed at one breast with his hand and gently massaged it, while bending down to kiss the other. His tongue swirled around her hardened nipple and sent a shiver down her entire body. With one hand he pushed her skirt up to her waist and pulled her pink lacy thong to one side. Gently  pushing one long finger inside her, he could feel that she was dripping wet and he let out a groan of pleasure. 

Aya had never seen him like this before, his professional demeanour long gone now. He had a hazy look on his face of almost deliria, his eyes raw with animalistic desire. He removed his finger from inside of her and grabbed her slip-on shoes off of her feet, throwing them to one side. Then he took both sides of her skirt and thong to pull them off, raising her legs and gliding them down until they fell to the ground, stopping only to bite one toe as her feet grazed by his head. Aya let out a yelp of pain and pleasure.

He lifted up her legs and squeezed her smooth ass, pulling her towards him so that her soaking wet pussy was at the very edge of the coffee table, her legs spread wide for him and her feet dangling gracefully to the floor. He bent his head down to her pussy so that he could smell her wonderful scent. 

Slowly and deliberately, he ran his tongue along her slit, starting from the very bottom and all the way up, finishing with a few playful flicks at her clit. He began kissing her inner lips passionately, licking up all the juices that dripped from her trembling pussy. His hands on her curved waist, he sucked gently on her clit until she was shaking, all the while deep and husky moans slipped from his mouth, letting her know that he was enjoying it as much as she was. This is all I’ve ever fantasised about and more, Aya thought. 

As she could feel herself getting closer to the point of release, Dr Shepherd stopped and pulled her up to sit. He undid the buttons of his shirt, gazing into her eyes as he did so. As he took off his shirt, Aya inhaled sharply. His torso was beautiful, his olive-toned skin slightly tanned with muscular pecs and strong, broad shoulders. He removed his belt and undid the button of his trousers. 

As he reached for the zipper Aya’s hands stopped him. She wanted to do this part. She had fantasised about this moment so many times. She placed his arms by his sides and gazing up at him with wide eyes, rubbed her hands on the outside of his trousers. His bulge was large and rock hard, and she could feel her pussy pulsing in longing response. She slowly pulled the zipper down and reached her hand inside his boxers, pulling him outside of his trousers until his long, erect cock stared her straight in the face. She licked her lips in anticipation and began kissing up and down his length, her fingers gripped at the base. He threw his head back, looking up toward the ceiling and letting out a long groan. 

Aya loved seeing him like this, powerful yet vulnerable in his position. She used her tongue to play with the tip of his shaft, teasing him by licking all the right places, making him groan ever louder. Not able herself to wait any longer, she wrapped her whole mouth around his large girth and began very slowly to move up and down his whole length. She took him all the way in her mouth to the base of his cock, slowly sliding back up along his shaft and finishing each time with a wet lick at his tip, glancing up to see his face twisted in writhing ecstasy. Her desire for him was completely overwhelming, she loved each moment of it and as she got more and more turned on she began moving faster, passionately sucking his cock. “Fuck” Aya heard him whisper. His hands stroked at her hair in a frenzy, trying to contain his explosive pleasure. As she cupped his balls gently with her hand, she could feel they were tense and ready to erupt. 

At that moment he moved her gently away, pushing her backwards until again she lay down before him, her naked body sprawled on top of the coffee table. The cool feeling of the wood against her bare skin intensified the euphoria that raged through her body. 

Dr Shepherd finished undressing himself so that he too was naked, and once more bent down to Aya’s pulsating lips. As he kissed her stomach, he slid one finger inside of her, slowly massaging her most sensitive spot, making her cry in delight. Pushing another finger inside, he slowly began moving his hand in and out of her. She found her hips raising off the coffee table, tensely expectant, willing him to go deeper inside. Responding to each of her groans but knowingly teasing her, he continued withdrawing his fingers with a careful stroke of her swollen clit, and entering again until she was ready to explode. 

She reached for him, trying to pull him up towards her, but pushing her hands away, he whispered, “Not yet, Aya”. He waited for her to come, euphoric tremors surging through her body. 

With his fingers still inside her and his other arm lifting her off the table, he swung her round to lay her down on the soft rug below him. Moving up so that his face was directly above hers, the smell of his aftershave driving her crazy with hunger for him, he kissed her passionately, pushing his tongue deep inside her mouth. Then turning her over, he pulled her onto his lap so that her back lay against his chest. He continued stroking her, the mini after-tremors of her last climax causing her to still teeter on the edge, her legs restlessly shaking beyond her control. He grabbed her breast with his other hand and lightly pinched her nipple, all the while kissing the back of her shoulders. She clenched and released in pleasure as another orgasm shuddered through her, her whole body trembling. 

With his hands on her ass he moved her forward until she was bent on all fours in front of him. He moved to his knees and lowered his head right down between her legs, so that his tongue could just reach the cum dripping from her. He playfully bit the soft cheek of her ass, and though it was hard enough to make her body twitch slightly from the pain, her cry was of pure elation. 

The sound of rustling made her turn her head around to see Dr Shepherd removing a condom from its packet, and she was surprised to see his preparedness. An unsettling thought quickly ran through her mind. Had he been assuming this would happen? Was he anticipating sleeping with her? She expected to be outraged but instead she felt even more turned on. 

Grinning at her with the sexy crooked smile that sent Aya melting, he effortlessly rolled the condom on and moved his body toward her. Bent over behind her, he played with the tip of his cock at her entrance, teasing her relentlessly. 

“Please” Aya heard herself whisper. He obeyed and thrust himself inside of her. She squealed in pure pleasure. The entirety of his cock filled her up inside, and she closed her eyes as she moaned with each in and out motion, listening joyously to his groans as he began to move faster and faster. Aya had never been this wet before, and despite his generous proportions he slid smoothly in and out of her. 

Aya turned around to lie on her back, desperately wanting to see him as he came. She wrapped her legs around his back and pulled his face close to hers, hungrily kissing him as the desire between them grew to a pinnacle. He kissed her breasts again and pulled himself back slightly so that they could stare straight into each other’s eyes. “Oh fuck” he groaned as he sped up faster, his thrusts now reaching deeper and deeper inside of her. When she could see that he was about to orgasm, she was so aroused, so full of her desire for him, that she climaxed again, clutching him closer as they shook together. 

When they had both stopped trembling, Dr Shepherd lay down on top of her, his head on her chest. A satisfied grin on her face, Aya couldn’t help thinking to herself…This was the best therapy she could have ever hoped for. 

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sxqinn/my_therapist

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