Author: prosaictherapy

[MF] Meeting the girl who [deleted] me on Reddit.

The sun woke me up. Well, actually, I guess you could say it was the breeze that woke me up—it was the breeze that lifted my blind just enough to let the early morning sun into my bedroom. But whether it was the breeze or sun responsible, I was up. I ran my fingers through my tangled brown hair, rubbed my eyes and yawned. I reached to my nightstand and unplugged the phone whose alarm had yet to ring.

*5:45 not bad*, I thought to myself, *thirty minutes ahead of schedule*. I figured this would give me some time for, well, entertainment. After all, I had a mean case of morning wood, and I had been exchanging messages back and forth with a particularly charming young woman recently, so surely there was something in there to push me over the proverbial edge before my morning shower and coffee. The perfect way to start the day.

My fingers unlocked my phone almost automatically—a process I had repeated hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of times—and intuitively swiped left twice and tapped the “Utilities” folder where I kept Reddit hidden, so that my girlfriend wouldn’t stumble upon it on one of the few nights where she wasn’t travelling for work. Read more »

[MF] A classic rear window trope, with less Hitchcock and more of his cock.

Ethan was running late. A month ago it wouldn’t have mattered much, really. But that was before he started falling into something of a routine. He watched at the same time, every day. He knew exactly how each of the shows started and he was often pretty good at deducing how they’d end. Heck, he even had a spot just for watching.

But, if he was going to keep up the new nightly routine, he was going to have to make good time. He thanked the cashier quickly, shook his head at the dollar and seventy-five cents worth of change, stuffed the bread and the eggs and the tomatoes and the bananas and the apples and the barley and the oats and the frozen strawberries and the pasta into a couple bags and made his way towards the exit.

He didn’t run, but he walked with a purpose. His tall, sinewy frame glided across the grocery store tiles with ease, his long legs carrying him quickly towards the crisp autumn air.

Ethan dropped the bags into the passenger seat, started the car and flicked it into drive in what seemed like a singular fluid motion. Read more »

[M4F] Is it bad if your therapist can’t get enough of your cum?

*Forgot to mention in the title that this is Part 5. You can read Part 1* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12jiag2/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_want_to_fuck_your_therapist/)*, Part 2* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12l60tq/mf_is_it_bad_to_tell_your_therapist_that_you_want/), [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12px0qq/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_and_your_therapist_take/) *here and Part 4* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12u1mm7/mf_is_it_bad_to_fuck_your_therapist_part_4/)*.*

Lydia was not actually on the pill.

She wasn’t sure whether to wait for an opportune moment to share this detail or to get it out of the way. Their bodies were, like the Friday afternoon prior, stuck together — both of them spent. She thought about how, in movies and TV shows, the post-coital bliss is usually fleeting, but also easy to deal with, without ever addressing the elephant of a complication in the room — that one party usually had cum leaking out of her, down her thigh, and liable to make quite the mess. That never seemed to be the case on screen, though, actors rolled over onto their side of the bed, whispered I love you to one another, turned off the light and scene — no mess to clean up, no quick trips to the bathroom, no tissues used to dab up the stick white cum, not even a condom thrown into a bedside trash can. Read more »

Published
Categorized as Erotica Tagged

[MF] Is it bad to fuck your therapist? (Part 4)

*Apologies for the repost! There was a formatting error on my part that made it hard to read. You can read Part 1* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12jiag2/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_want_to_fuck_your_therapist/)*, Part 2* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12l60tq/mf_is_it_bad_to_tell_your_therapist_that_you_want/) *and* [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12px0qq/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_and_your_therapist_take/) *here.*

A few minutes went by as they lay there, almost motionless except for the slight heaving of their bodies as they caught their collective breath. It didn’t take long for their breathing to fall in sync, Thomas’ chest — by no means muscular, but comfortably larger than Lydia’s — setting the tempo, pushing Lydia’s upwards and letting it slowly fall back down. His hands, which were by his thighs at first, found her back, timidly caressing it with the tips of his fingers. At first, he was afraid that this would be too much for Lydia, an act of affection when she might see this as a purely sexual transaction, but he felt her relax as his hands touched her skin and could hear what almost resembled the dull purr of a satisfied cat. Read more »

[MF] Is it bad when you and your therapist take turns making each other cum? (Part 3)

*You can read Part 1* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12jiag2/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_want_to_fuck_your_therapist/) *and Part 2* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12l60tq/mf_is_it_bad_to_tell_your_therapist_that_you_want/).

Lydia and Thomas were both nervous as 2 o’clock neared.

After last Friday’s events, Thomas had left Lydia’s office with a smile on his face — so, too, had Lydia. He had insisted on paying for the session, not because he felt he needed to pay for her affection and sexuality, but because he, too, had wanted things to seem above-board should anybody look closely. And a therapist not charging patients was a red flag.

In the week since, Lydia had thought often about what had transpired. She had touched herself to it — her memory was incredibly vivid of that afternoon’s events — but she had made an effort to resist cumming. An effort which she hoped would pay off the next time she saw Thomas, not that she would force anything. Deep down, Lydia was afraid of scaring Thomas off, stirring up guilt that he wouldn’t be able to overlook and would cause him to drop her as his therapist. If he mentioned what had happened, she’d be out of a job. Lydia knew that she was afraid of much more than that, though. She genuinely found Thomas to be intriguing and interesting — she liked listening to him talk and discovering the way he thought. Read more »

[MF] Is it bad to tell your therapist that you want to fuck her? (Part 2)

*For Part 1, click* [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12jiag2/mf_is_it_bad_when_you_want_to_fuck_your_therapist/)*.*

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Thomas liked his Fridays.

He woke up early, at 5, a few hours before Christine would be getting up. In the winter months, he’d start writing almost immediately, after a quick shower and an espresso. In the summer, though, he went cycling, getting 50 miles in his legs before most people were starting their day. He’d come home, shower, have another coffee and then get to writing. At some point between noon and 1, he’d stop and have lunch before leaving for a little walk. He’d take a circuitous route to clear his mind a little bit before ending up at Lydia’s office.

It was five minutes to 2 and Thomas was sitting in the small waiting room on the ground floor of Lydia’s office. There were eight chairs, but Thomas had only ever seen one other person waiting there — Lydia shared the practice with some other therapists, who he’d seen occasionally using a small office on the ground floor. There was another office on the second floor, but it had always been empty when Thomas saw Lydia. Read more »

[MF] Is it bad when you want to fuck your therapist?

*Sometimes the fun is in the buildup… There will be a second part — and maybe more, too.*

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The air was still in the room.

Thomas could feel the sun, shining through the window, on the back of his neck, bathing it in warmth — the kind of warmth that you only really feel in spring, on the first days where the sun is really shining and the air is less cold. He regretted wearing the grey cashmere sweater as he felt the warmth swell down his back and across his chest — it would be a long hour. He crossed his left leg over his right and ran his hand along his thigh, pressing the fabric of his navy blue trousers flat.

It was a small room, with a sloping ceiling, and it made Thomas feel cramped and comically tall, as if his thin 6’3” frame dwarfed the room and everything in it, including the grey couch he was sitting on. Read more »