Chris Dunn Ch. 01

Part 1: Where are thine accusers?

James stood at the door and argued again with himself whether to go through with the appointment. The placard read Christine Dunn, MS. He was in the right place and on time. It was the third time he had made the appointment. Calling twice before with excuses, he had cancelled. It was fear and self-loathing that caused him to repent of making the appointment. It always was the fear that complicated things.

Chris Dunn knew that it took several rounds of appointment and cancellation before her clients actually showed up. Then it was often a long time before they could actually confess to her what it was they needed from her. It was always the same need: to be forgiven. Forgiven of their sexual desires.

She had been hired for just such a job. An enlightened congregation created The Family Life Center and had established a counseling clinic. The staff consisted of four marriage and family therapists, a psychologist, two mental health counselors and her—a sex therapist. The sexual issues that appeared in their sessions hampered the work of the staff. Without proper training, the staff was unable to move people along in their therapy. So, the staff prevailed upon the board to create Chris's position. An affair between a male therapist and one of the clients convinced the board that if they were going to continue to operate the Center, they had to be able to deal with sexual issues effectively.

There was no application process because the Center did not want to arouse concerns in the congregation. If you announce that you are doing sex therapy, it will bring out so much resistance that the entire operation would be threatened. Dr. Allen Beal, a former member of the Center's board, recommended Chris Dunn. She had been his research assistant and received his unqualified endorsement. After a brief interview with the staff, she was hired. In the four years that she had practiced, everyone knew they had made the right decision. Her skills were excellent. She displayed the right amount of decorum and self-effacing humor, and she was a deeply spiritual person. Her work was a ministry, she often said. Although she was not a minister, per se, she had the ability to confront deep spiritual issues. With her, the clients could confess their brokenness and, in so doing, receive forgiveness.

Hesitantly, James tapped on the door. He heard her say to come in. He pushed the door open and saw her sitting at her desk in front of a large window. The light coming in the window poured around her like a halo. The angelic presence greeted him with a tender smile.

"Hello, James. I am so glad you were able to make it today. I have been eager to meet you," she said as she stood to greet him. Her shoulder-length brown hair framed a kind face and her blue eyes shone with sincerity. Already his heart rate had slowed and he was able to breathe freer.

He stepped into the room and crossed to the desk. She held out a hand pointing to a chair in front of her. She was pretty, he thought, but more beautiful than pretty. It did not make sense to him even as the thought rose in his mind. Pretty meant striking, a real looker. She seemed more. There was an attractive wholesomeness to her that made her physical beauty more intense. She had lovely skin and a radiant smile. Her cotton blouse was unbuttoned enough for him to see a slight cleavage. His eyes fell to examine her breasts and he was please to see that they were full. Her nipples were slightly visible and she made neither a move to cover them nor to thrust them forward. Her bra must have been of a light material, he wondered; not one of those foam armors that women often wear to improve their figure. She was just comfortable in her own skin and allowed her nipples to react as they may without the need to attract or deflect attention.

Seeing her nipples through the cloth caused James's cock to stir. He could feel the blood empty out of this chest and arms and a weakness between his shoulders. It always preceded an erection.

He took the chair and crossed his legs both to hide his erection and to provide some more stimulation to it. Squeezing his balls between his crossed legs made the feeling of arousal last longer.

Chris sat back down at her desk and waited for him to speak. She stared into his eyes in an inviting, undemanding way. "She's so pretty," he thought, "so gentle. I could just look at her all day." He was relaxing into the chair. His cock felt a sustained low-level arousal. They sat there looking at one another for several minutes without saying a word. Chris knew she had to help him relax if she was going to find out what was bothering him.

Finally, he took a very deep breath and blew it out. "Well, I guess you need to know why I came here today." She nodded slowly. "Well, I have been meaning to talk to someone for a long time and finally got up enough courage. I kind of thought I'd be talking to a guy, so this is a little weird. You'll tell me if I make you uncomfortable or anything, right? I mean I have a pretty bad problem and I don't want to scare you."

"I can't imagine what you could say that would scare me. If you have committed some kind of crime, I will have to tell the authorities. There is rarely something that either surprises or scares me when people come here to try and work things out. Because I am a human, I can contemplate myself doing anything that any other human might contemplate doing." She smiled inwardly recalling Dostoevsky's idea.

He felt more invited to reveal himself. "No, I haven't broken the law. I haven't like done anything to kids or anything if that is what you mean. That isn't what I am worried about. I have done some things that I could get caught at in public that might get me into trouble, but not very often." He looked at her fearfully checking for any minute sign of rejection. He saw only the light of her eyes and calm of her cheek.

She leaped to a hypothesis because she had heard this introduction many times before. He was a masturbator: A nice-looking, steady sort of guy, mid-30s, probably married and still jerking off. His wife had likely found his DVDs and magazines and thrown a fit. Now he has to hide it. And it sounds like he has jerked off in public places as well. That is the part about being caught.

"So, you came here because you are worried that somehow you are weird or abnormal and are hoping to get some relief from your worries." She wanted to see if she could speed up the process because she only had 50 minutes to get things moving. He flinched at her directness, but pressed on.

"Yes, ma'am. I need to know how to stop something. Or at least control it."

"Can you tell me what it is you would like to stop or to control? That would help me figure out how to help you." She looked again at him with that angelic look and leaned in to convey her interest.

He looked down and uncrossed him legs. He leaned forward so as not to look at her and then very softly said, "I, umm. I, ah...masturbate." A load fell from him. He had said it. He had confessed it instead of hiding it. It was not enough.

"I am so sorry. I didn't hear what you said. Could you tell me again, please?" Chris needed him to do it again so that he could look at her and say directly what it was he did.

It was excruciating to have to say it again. "I said, 'I masturbate', at times."

"I am sorry to have to do this to you again. I know that you are having a little trouble, but could you tell me again what the problem is. Perhaps if you look up at me, it will help me to hear you."

His eyes were moist and he looked at her defiantly. His voice rose and was thick. "I said, 'I masturbate.' I jerk off. I hand-fuck. I play with myself. There! Did you hear me that time?"

"Oh, is that all we're talking about? All men masturbate until they die. Women too. It's one of the joys of life. It's a blessing. Imagine what life would be like if we couldn't have an orgasm whenever we needed or wanted one." She smiled at him. She was not conceding any self-pity or anger directed at her. She was going to handle this problem with him, right there, right then.

He was shocked. It had the effect she wanted. They could move on to a more direct handling of the case.

"I have read that men masturbate, but I thought it was like something we'd outgrow,' He said, puzzled

"It would be like trying to outgrow your own cock, James. Can't very well do that, now can we?" She began to slip more direct language into the conversation so that he would do the same. "What, I suspect, you want is to be able to masturbate without fear. You want to be able to jerk off when you want and to know that it is okay. It's having to hide and to sneak around that is the problem. The question is, "'Do you want to get over this problem or not?'"

"Well, yes, that is why I am here, isn't it?" He was getting angry again.

"James, you need to trust me on this one. I am an expert. Your getting angry is a sign that you still feel shame. We need to eliminate that shame. I can help you with that today. Right now. But you have to trust me to do that. You have to do everything I tell you to do without exception. Will you do that?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I guess..."

"Nope. Not good enough. You have to do what I tell you without exception." The angel that had greeted him had now become a tyrant. James's head was spinning as he tried to imagine what might happen next.

"Okay. Okay. I will do whatever you tell me. I want to get over this problem."

"Great. I was hoping you would say that." Her voice turned tender again. She resumed that kindly, beautiful persona she had. "Then, I need you to masturbate for me. I need you to show me how you jerk off."

James' head snapped upward and his neck ached. What?! "Now, I am the one who needs to hear that again. What did you say?"

"You heard me perfectly well. Either, you can pull your cock out and start jerking off, or your can leave. Your choice." And she smiled that gentle smile again.

He widened his eyes and shook his head at the ultimatum. And he complied. He began to unbuckle his belt. Chris reinforced him by nodding. "I know this is awkward, but it is the right thing to do. You can do it. I know you can."

"I am going to need something..."

"I have already thought of that," she said. She reached into her desk drawer and retrieved three magazines, a container of lubricant and a towel. "Will these help?" With that she stood and walked around to the front of her desk handing him the magazines and lube. "Show me how you do this at home. Do you take off all your clothes or just pull your cock out through the zipper?"

"I do it lots of ways. Mostly I like to take my clothes off. Should I do that here?"

"Yes. It's okay. You can fold them and put them on the desk. Let me watch you undress. I give you permission to enjoy masturbating," she encouraged.

"Well, why don't you join me? If I am going to get down, so should you." He was immediately aware that he was angry again.

Without a moment's pause, she rejoined, "James, you come here to be forgiven of sins, not to commit them. Now, let's see that pocket monster of yours." Her words stimulated him. But she made no unprofessional moves, nothing that would be considered unethical or immoral. He was her client. His needs mattered. She would not take advantage of him in any way.

He took off his shirt and jeans. Then bent over to take his boxers off. There was a spot on the front where his cock had leaked a small amount of pre-cum. He stood askew of her, not wanting to show himself fully. From that angle, Chris could see an impressive, half-firm cock. It drooped slightly a third back from the crown. She liked looking at men's cocks in this state of arousal. They were vulnerable at this state. She encouraged him, wanting to help get hard and able to cum.

"James, in my professional opinion, that is a very nice cock you have there. Is it about eight inches? I notice that you do not shave, but it appears you are trimming yourself regularly. You must like how your cock looks to take care of it so well. I can see that it is filling with blood as I look at it. That is very nice."

"Do you really think so? Is it a nice cock? I always have worried. Guys are forever thinking they have to have a really big cock. So, it's a nice one, you think?" He was so innocent in his questions. When you are naked, you cannot hide anything. That was part of the therapy, to be naked with someone so you can know the truth.

I was indeed a beauty. The clean head was sharply defined. The rim around the top stood proud, sloping away from the slit in the end, a smooth ring of flesh, firm with pressure, but soft and pliable to the touch. He used his entire hand to encircle it, folding his thumb down. Some men, Chris knew from experience, grab their penises back-handed and pull it away from themselves. Others tip their little finger up as is they are holding a delicate tea-cup. Each grip revealed something important about the way the man perceived his manhood. James held his cock full-staff like he was holding a flag. He was waving his sexual flag, saluting her as she watched him.

"Yes, James, it is a lovely cock. Now, let me see how you make love to it. Do you need some lube or a magazine to look at?"

"Well, no. Actually, just having you here talking to me is pretty exciting. I think I can do this on my own. I'll let you know. Are you going to watch me the whole way?"

"That is the plan. I need to know it all if I am going to make any suggestions. Show me what you like to do. Hold it for me."

James held his cock at its base, cupping his balls in his hands. His cock stood vertically and he was proud. The office was cool, but the sunshine falling on his cock warmed it. He was happy just to sit in the sunshine holding his cock. "I like this feeling, just sitting here looking outside. I like to jerk-off outside. I like to be naked outdoors and feel my cock get hard then soften and then get hard again. This feels nice."

"That's wonderful, James. Just relax. See? Nothing bad is happening to you. Here you are with a nice hard-on just enjoying the feeling. It's really a beautiful thing, isn't it? I like watching it too. You have a lovely penis. It is a real piece of art. Stroke it for me. Let me see how you stroke yourself."

How odd, James thought. He had never had a woman talk so kindly to him about his cock. If he was naked with a woman, it was all hot and bothered with him trying to fuck her. This was so nice. He looked at her. Her eyes were so kind. Her lips were so sweet. He had a fleeting thought of putting his cock between her lips, but it was not right, somehow. It was better to look at her as a thing of beauty rather than as a means of gratification.

"I was just thinking. Is it okay to just look at you? You are very pretty and I am so relaxed. Do you mind if I just stroke myself as we talk?"

"Perfectly fine with me. Tell me what you are thinking," she said

"Well, I like it that you are looking at my cock. That is exciting. It's sort of a fantasy to have a woman watch me masturbate. It's always in the back of my mind when I jerk off outdoors. So, I want to make this last and I want to show off my cock to you."

"Go on. Keep stroking it and telling me what is on your mind." She had done this so long, she was able to "hold" her clients without losing control herself. She could hold their arousal and keep her own sexual feelings at bay. She got wet still; she was getting wet now. But she did not need to satisfy her own itch. She just let her body do what it needed to do and she concentrated on helping her clients. It's why she let her nipples show through her clothing rather than trying to hide them. In fact, her nipples were hard now watching this man pleasure himself.

"Well, I like your nipples. I mean I like your breasts, but your nipples are hard and it makes me think you like what you are seeing." He caught himself, not wanting to say something inappropriate again. "I mean..."

She interrupted. "I know. I can't help it. I am a human too. But let's get back to you. You like to look at me. Can you look at my eyes and jerk off? Let's see if you can cum for me."

He needed little more encouragement. His hand quickened its pace on his shaft. The head was getting deep red. Veins began to enlarge on the sides of his cock. His back curved slightly in the chair. With his left hand he cupped his balls, squeezing them.

A large drop of pre-cum seemed out the slit in the end of his cock. Chris watched, fascinated by the way the sun illuminated the clear fluid. It began a slow-motion slide down the grooved cleft of his cockhead. James took his left forefinger and wiped the crystal drop away and held it up for a moment. Chris's eyes followed and her mouth open slightly. James then brought the finger to his mouth and tasted himself. As his lips closed around his finger, Chris's own lips unconsciously formed an O and closed.

"You like the taste your pre-cum, don't you?"

"Mmmhmmm." His breathing was deepening and his eyes, half-lidded, continued to look at her breasts.

"Do you ever taste your own cum?"

"Mmmhhmmmm... Sometimes." He breathed harder. Exhaling through his nose. He was getting closer. His left hand grabbed his ball sac and squeezed. His right pumped harder, but no faster. The head of his cock was purple.

"I'll bet you like to shoot a lot of hot cum and then lick it off, don't you? I hope you do that for me, James."

He shifted slightly and groaned lowly.

"Oh, James, I can see the signs. You are breathing harder. Your cock head is hot and full of blood and your balls are tightening. Come for me James. Come for me. It's okay. Show me how much you like jerking that lovely penis. Make it shoot a lot of cum for me."

He erupted with a groan. He eyes squinted at the effort. Semen shot straight in the air in a solid stream. It crested and began to fall heavily back to earth when another shot erupted from the end of his cock. The first spasm's load landed with a smack on his stomach as the second reached the end of its arc and began to fall.

White floods of cum flew out of his cock and splattered on him. They shone in the sunshine like lightning bolts and seared his skin when they landed. He directed his cock so that the semen would land higher on his chest. A volley hit his left nipple and another just below, above his rib-line.

He opened his eyes to see Chris's reaction. Her own eyes were wide with wonder. He was still coming for her, but the flow had subsided. Knowing he had her full attention he squeezed his ass cheeks and forced the final squirt hard. It soared out of him and sailed up. It was a thick shot of come and it skidded forward as it landed on his chest. Chris watched the entire curve of its flight and stared at it as it came to rest. He licked his hand, tasting his semen. As he did, he stared at Chris. She smiled and nodded her approval.

His semen lay on him in a broken white wreath. He liked seeing how much sperm he was able to produce. It made him feel proud. His breathing relaxed. He shook his head to clear his thinking. He looked again at Chris and she was holding his gaze, smiling. Some of the semen had begun to thin and started a slow trickle down his side. Chris instinctively reached for the towel. She had to rise from the chair next to him and as she did, Chris felt the air cool the damp spot on his panties. She handed the towel to James and stood over him inspecting the results. She didn't say anything, just watched patiently, kindly, lovingly.

As his penis deflated, James became self-conscious again. He took the towel and covered himself quickly, not wiping the now clear semen running down from him. Chris reached for the towel and pulled it away from his groin and began to dry him. "It's okay, James. You are still beautiful and have nothing to be ashamed of. It's okay. And your penis is still lovely. It worked beautifully and I am so happy I was the one who got to watch. You can get dressed again and I will watch."