Psychologist Dr. F. already knew, from previous therapy sessions, that I liked to show off for strangers on the web. To have erotic and dirty conversations, to exchange pictures or to share a webcam, all hidden from my wife. I was plagued by a feeling of guilt whenever I thought about this kind of behavior of mine and, to try to ease it, I exposed it with some reluctance to Dr. F. who listened with a professionalism worthy of her reputation. Nothing in her reaction made me predict what would happen next.
Weeks later, we were nearing the end of another session when the unexpected happened.
It was late spring and the weather was already warming up. Dr. F., with dark and long hair by the shoulders and dark eyes behind some light and elegant glasses, was wearing a sober dress with the hem halfway up her thigh, barely low-cut on her chest. For a woman in her late forties, mother of two, she was in excellent shape. Her legs were thin and smooth, well drawn from the ankle to the end of the thigh which was clearly visible because they were crossed. Not being a beautiful woman, she compensated for her physique and style. She was an attractive woman and I had often masturbated with the doctor in my mind.