She nodded and looked down at the carpet between us. I wanted to ask her what she wanted from me. I needed to know if she was looking for me to fuck her like the scenes she's read about in books, but the words wouldn't form.
"Is that how it will be with me … if you have sex with me?"
I wanted to tell her no. The things I wanted to do to her were nothing like what I had done with other clients. Just the thought of fucking her made a drop of precome exit my body. But I couldn't fuck her like that for so many reasons. "Yes. It has to be. It is unethical for a therapist to have a relationship beyond treatment with a patient. And for that reason, it must be clinical. It must be done for the purpose of treatment, and not for any other reason. If we were to engage in that aspect and it were anything beyond clinical, it would mean a breach of my authority over your wellbeing." I recited the words that I knew verbatim, but I didn't want to follow them any longer. I wanted to stick my aching dick that was dripping with precome inside of her.
"Then how will I know if I am capable of having that kind of sex. The kind that I read about? What if you say I'm ready and I go for it, but something happens?" She sounded genuinely scared as she asked me that question. Her voice held no confidence, and I wanted to change that.
"You'll be fine. I don't have to fuck you in order to know when you're ready. But one thing that you do need to work on is growing comfortable with being touched. And that starts with yourself. You need to explore your body-touch it, feel it, become comfortable with it."
"I don't … don't know if I can."
I grabbed her hand and placed it on her thigh, holding it there with mine. Her breathing grew heavy as she stared at our hands as if they were repulsive, mine on top of hers, unmoving on her leg. "Look at me, Ivy," I instructed her. I waited for what seemed like long minutes before her eyes met mine; uncertainty swirled within them. "Just focus on me. Take deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, just like you had me do yesterday. You're okay. You're in control, no one else." I began to move her hand farther up her thigh, refusing to let her remove her eyes from mine.
"Cade," she whispered.
I hadn't realized it, but my face had grown even closer to hers. It wasn't until I felt her warm breath on my lips before I noticed how close we actually were. I should have backed away, but I didn't want to. I could feel her give in to me and didn't want to stop what I excused as progress.
"All you need to do is feel it, Ivy. Feel your hand; it's only your hand." I pulled my hand away, showing her that I was no longer touching her. "You're doing great; keep moving it higher." I flicked my eyes to her leg, watching her hand move closer and closer to her cunt.
"What am I supposed to do with it?"
Holy fucking shit, why did she have to go and ask me that?
"Only hold your hand there for now. Right now, all you need to do is realize that it's okay to touch yourself. Find comfort in that. Once you can do this without my help and without fearing it, try it without the jeans. Baby steps, Ivy. And then after you're comfortable with that, try it without the underwear. All you need to do is simply place your hand there; you don't need to do anything else, unless you want to." I backed away when I found the urge to touch her too strong to ignore any longer. "We'll discuss more then."
I had a raging hard-on the entire ride home from Ivy's apartment.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the only number I knew that could alleviate my pain. I wasn't sure if she'd answer my call, but she told me earlier that she would so I had to try. It rang twice before I heard her voice, and hope set in as my dick throbbed painfully.
"That was fast. I wasn't expecting you to call so soon," she said as a way of answering the phone.
"I know. I wasn't planning on it either, but I need you. Do you think you could come by in about thirty minutes?" I knew I was asking a lot of her, especially after what went down the last time she was there. I couldn't help it, though. I needed her. Well, I needed Ivy, and that's exactly why I needed Alyssa.
"To talk?"
"No. To fuck."
She exhaled over the line. "Cade, I don't know. After the other night-"
"That was a mistake; I told you that. I've never done that before and I'm not angry tonight. I swear it. My mind isn't somewhere else and the only mood I'm in is horny. Please come by. I'll make it worth your while, I promise. I'll make up for what happened last time. You won't even remember it by time I get done with you."
I had expected her to hesitate but she didn't. She sighed as she agreed to be over within the hour. I knew it would only be half that time, but I guess she felt better making up her own time. I allowed that and didn't argue. The important thing was that I wouldn't be going to bed with blue balls.
Waiting for Alyssa to get there was torture. She did in fact make me wait an additional thirty minutes. I didn't think my dick could take much more. It needed something and I was dangerously close to taking care of it myself. I, of course, didn't want that. That's not what I craved. I wanted it to be taken care of by a warm pussy, but I could only handle so much torture.
Alyssa walked through the door with familiarity as soon as I opened it and made her way to the couch in the family room. I followed her without saying a word. She didn't do her typical teasing by touching me or flirting. There were no sexual innuendos or even any removal of clothes. She just walked to the couch on the backside of the kitchen bar and sat down. I was puzzled and stood there, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"Before we do anything, I think we should talk," she said, looking right at me.
We need to talk is never good to hear. It never leads to anything good, and at that moment, I needed something good. My dick needed something good. Not a talk. Unless the talk involved outlining the sensual things she planned to do to me that evening, but I was sure that wasn't what she had in mind. Fuck!
I sighed audibly as I sat on the ottoman in front of her, facing her and waiting for her to continue.
"After the last time-"
"I told you already, Alyssa, that was a mistake. How many times are we going to bring this up? We've talked about it. I explained to you what happened. I promised I would never let that happen again," I interrupted her.
"Will you let me finish?" she asked with a raised voice and I nodded for her to continue. "Okay, so after the last time, I think we should set some rules. We've already established that we won't engage in sex if you're in a mood or if your mind is anywhere other than what we're doing. But in the event your mind drifts off while we are in the act, I think we should have a safe word."
"A safe word?" I scoffed. "Alyssa, I know I can be intense, but I'm not into the BSMD shit."
She laughed and held her hand over her face. "Cade, it's BDSM."
"I don't give a shit what it's called, I don't do it. Why do we need a safe word? It's not like I'm tying you up and beating the shit out of you. I don't understand why you can't just tell me to stop. Why make up a stupid word that would mean the same thing?"
"What if I'm saying ‘don't stop'? That could get confusing. That's why it's easier to have a word like meatloaf or something that would never be said during sex. That way there won't be any confusion if I have to use it."
"Fine. Meatloaf it is. Can we also have a rule that when you come over to fuck we don't have these chats? I don't think I could get any softer." I was no longer in the mood to entertain Alyssa. The hard-on I was once sporting was suddenly gone with her need to talk.
"One more rule."
I let out an exaggerated breath and dropped my head to my hands.
"I know you're a very aggressive guy and I like that, but what if I don't want to be so passive? I think you should let me exert some kind of aggression, too."
"Wait, are you trying to tell me something here with the damn safe word and now this? If you have some kind of kinky fantasy to dominate a man, you're at the wrong house. I don't do that shit."
Alyssa laughed again. "No. I'm not talking about that."
"Then what are you talking about?" I asked, completely thrown off by what she was trying to say.
"As much as I love choking on your dick, sometimes I want to sit on your face."
And he was up. "Sit on my face? That's it? By all means, Alyssa, sit on my fucking face."
I leaned forward until I had my grip around the waistband of her pants. I yanked them off in one swift motion, practically pulling her out of her chair and into my lap. I moved my body between the ottoman and the couch, scooting the ottoman away as I leaned back on the carpet, pulling her on top of me.