Erotic Transference

"Nate, no!" Nell manages to block the door right before I can grab the handle. "You're doing so well, don't give up now."

Professor MacConelly appears next to Nell. "You know, it's common for male models to get aroused. It's nothing to worry about."

Giggling from the girls again and whispers from the other students. Despite their reassuring comments, all I can think about is getting out of this room. I try to nudge Nell aside while I keep myself covered with my other hand.

"Stop!" Nell says almost under her breath. Her hands fly to her blouse and undo the top few buttons. I stand transfixed as her shirt comes open.

"Nell, what are you doing?" whispers Professor MacConnelly.

"I told you this might happen. This will help him. Just go along with me here." As Nell shucks her blouse, she announces, "Our model is just a little shy, so anything you can do to make him feel more comfortable will be much appreciated."

Comfort – hell, anything besides Nell – is gone from my mind. The meds are hitting me even harder now and everything but my enchanting therapist ceases to exist. She unzips the back of her skirt and lets it fall to the floor. While my eyes feast on Nell in her white cotton, my dick beats against my cupped hands. Her hands reach behind her back and the tension on her bra releases. She lets it slip from her shoulders.

I bite my lip as my dick makes an audible slapping noise, jumping between my modesty-preserving hands and the skin of my stomach. Nell's skin has a few incipient wrinkles, creases, and spots, but they are like mirages layered on top of an unfading beauty. She bends forward, her panties sliding down her legs. I'm still attempting to process the fact that we're standing naked in front of each other when Professor MacConnelly finally speaks.

"You don't have to do that."

"No, it's fine. If he has to be nude, I have no problem joining him."

"Well, all right. I can't say I object to seeing the human form or I wouldn't be teaching this class." The professor smiled. "As long as it helps Nate."

My attention is distracted from Nell's body as one of the guys in the class calls out, "Yeah, fuck it! I model all the time, it's no big deal." He throws his shirt to the ground. "If it helps you, I got no problem strippin' down."

His face, and his effeminate voice, seem familiar. I definitely have a class with this guy, but I can't remember his name, just that he's more than a little flamboyant. As he peels off his jeans, the two girls pipe up.

"We'll do it too!" I swallow, watching them begin disrobing.

"Uh, professor, do we have to, you know?" asked the only other guy in the class.

"If you feel comfortable with it." The guy becomes shifty-eyed, no doubt peeking at the two girls who are now down to their underwear. He removes his shirt and drops his pants, but keeps his boxers on. I look over to Bijou, who seems unsettled to have found herself in a room full of people undressing.

She hesitantly stands from her stool. I can empathize with her situation. She is stuck between this sudden group energy, telling her to play along, and her sense of modesty. Her face encapsulates the dilemma – a shade of red creeps over her skin, her teeth bite down on her lower lip, yet the corners of her mouth are turned up in a smile. Her hands move up her sides and pull her skirt down. This reveals nothing, though, as her lengthy sweater conceals the area where the skirt had been. Her fingers curl and lift the hem of the sweater until it passes above her head.

I feel disappointed when she sits back down, making it clear that she has removed as much as she can. However, it is the first time she has shown her waif-like figure to me, even if it is still covered by her bra, panties, and translucent leggings. She looks up from her easel at me as if to ask if this was good enough for me.

"So, will you stay, Nate?" the professor asks. I nod and trudge back to the stool. I take my seat as Nell takes hers. "Second pose now, dear."

I scan my unclad audience. I remember the old trick – "Think of them in their underwear." This is far better, though the exposed bodies of Nell and the girls would ensure my erection persisted. I unclasp my hands and let the thing free. As I slide my fingers to my knees to get into the pose, I give myself a little pinch just to make sure.

Nothing happens. No pointing and laughing from them, no panic attack from me. I'm just sitting on display as if it were the most natural thing. And the view from here. Nell, Bijou, the two girls, they're keeping me distracted as well.

When the professor moves back into the cluster of easels to give the students advice, the two girls titter. My gaze shifts from Nell and Bijou to my right. The blonde and the brunette both have stunning bodies, the likes of which are probably the target of every frat boy but the property of only the smoothest.

The blonde is groping her own tits, making a point of flicking her nipples until they harden. The brunette has given up on her painting and is stroking her brush and making an orgasmic face. Her mouth opens wider as her strokes get faster. She mouths "Oh yeah" as she shakes the brush, causing droplets of paint to fly off the end.

The brunette then puts her finger to her lips, cleans her brush, and touches the bristles to the blonde's chest. They trace a line down to her nipple. The blonde peers down in surprise at the brush that's now tickling her hard point. Not too much later, the brush continues its path downward over the blonde's stomach into her pubic hair. It dances through her trimmed bush and lands right on her clitoris. The blonde, eyes wide open, gives a little worried tug on the brunette's arm. The brunette leans closer and whispers in her ear. The blonde nods and allows her legs to be spread further and the brush to work harder against her clit. Her head tilts back, her skin flushing.

The brunette is intent on giving me a show. She takes two more brushes and traces the blonde's lips with their handles. The blonde stifles a moan as the brunette penetrates her.

The brushes move faster, causing her breathing becomes ragged. She's pushing her hips into the brushes now, her stool rattling.

The blonde is giving a few final thrusts when I hear a loud "Ahem." The professor is standing over the guy in his boxers, giving him a dirty look. He's situated just behind the two girls. I have no doubt he knows what had been going on when he removes his hand from his only article of clothing. The brunette swiftly withdraws the brushes from the blonde while the professor whispers to the guy behind them.

I glance down. My embarrassment had been replaced by pure arousal for the last few minutes. My dick confirms this with its now obvious twitching. It holds still for a moment and releases a bead of pre-cum that dribbles down my shaft before it resumes its twitching. Self-consciousness takes hold again. I had gotten used to being nude, even with my erection. But the thing is shameless about making itself noticed now, repeating its performance and letting another drop of fluid free. It is being honest, though – I have never felt such a need to touch myself before.

I look toward the other side of the room. Everyone is painting studiously. The flamboyant guy has a hard-on of his own and I hope that it's not from looking at me. My eyes flee from that sight and land on Nell and Bijou, sitting beside each other. Seeing my two loves side-by-side in their states of undress only sparked further arousal. Fluid escaped from my head again. Damn, could a guy cum without touching himself?

"Five minutes left, class," the professor announces. It takes me that long to realize that I have just had the most erotic experience of my life. "All right, we're out of time. You can take your work home with you if you want to add some finishing touches."

I hop off the stool, still in disbelief, and walk over to where my robe is hanging. Professor MacConnelly appears beside me and slips a few bills into the pocket of the robe. "Thanks for your time."

When she walks away, I feel a slap on my ass. It's the flamboyant guy. "Good job, man."

As soon as I turn around, though, his presence is replaced by the two girls standing on either side of me. I feel a peck on each cheek, then a pinch on each ass cheek. "It was fun working with you." The brunette winks and the two walk off. I throw my robe on at last and leave the room, stealing one last glance in to see Nell and Bijou still adjusting their skirts.

---

I pop open the locker and it brushes against my hardness. I hold it and run my thumb over the shaft. Maybe I should find the bathroom before I get dressed. I hear the door open. I cover myself as I see Nell walk through the doorway holding a canvas and purse. She's fully dressed except for her shirt, which remains unbuttoned. She always wears flats to the office, but today she's in spool-heels that put her at my height.

"You don't need to cover yourself anymore. We've just stared at each other completely naked for the last hour." Staring into my eyes, she reaches down and moves my arms aside.

"Yeah, sorry, just kind of a habit."

She's looking right at my erection. "Well, you look like you enjoyed that. You should be proud. So how was it?" She squeezed my arm.

"Oh, it was, um...." I struggle to reveal to what extent my humiliation had turned into arousal. I'm still nervous, just standing next to her like this. I finally blurt out the next thing that comes to mind. "Can we do it again?"

I almost clap my hands to my mouth in horror. She says, "My, my, maybe there's a little exhibitionist under all that anxiety, huh?"

I can only respond with a muffled grunt of assent. "Here, sit." She puts her arm around my shoulder and we descend onto the bench. She motions toward my crotch. "I want to know if I'm keeping you like that. Or is that for Bijou, or the two other girls?"

It throbbed and emitted an outpouring of pre-cum. "It looks like it is for me, isn't it? Nothing to be ashamed about if it is." She paused. "God, it looks like you really need some relief – it's been like that for so long. You know, if you want to give it a little rub, that's okay. In fact, I think it would be good – even more progress, all in one day."

"Okay." My hand closes around my hard-on. If there was anyone I'd do this for, it was Nell. And with how horny I am, my inhibitions leave my body. I begin my rhythm, sliding my hand up and down. Her head is perched on my shoulder, her eyes staring downward. "That's it, Nate. Just get comfortable."

I stroke faster, already aroused from the events of the art class and even more so from the fact that I'm pleasuring myself while Nell holds me. I can see her generous cleavage held in by her white cotton bra. I know it won't be long.

"Here, do you want me to help you?"

I nearly explode at her words. Of course, how could I say no? I merely nod, though, as if I'm not too excited about the proposition. Her hand reaches toward my rod and picks my hand from it. The sleeve of her blouse is unbuttoned, allowing the cuff to brush against me. She clicks her tongue and stands to remove the shirt. "Here, stand next to me."

As I do so, she produces a bottle of lotion from her purse. She squirts some onto her open palm and holds it against the bottom of my shaft. The coldness of the lotion mixes with the warmth of her hand to create an incredible sensation. As her hand glides over my cock, I let out little moans. I think of how well she always seems to know me in our sessions. This is no different – her hand knows what my dick likes better than I do.

"Am I doing it right for you?"

"Oh, god, yes." As I answer, she moves in and pecks me on the lips. She hugs me and kisses me again. I let her tongue pass into my mouth while she holds my member still against her stomach. I'm too aroused to let her stop despite the feeling of our tongues touching. My hips thrust forward, fucking the ring her hand is making and rubbing against her stomach.

When the kiss breaks, I rest my head on her shoulder. She continues to suckle on my neck. I look down her back, my hands reaching toward her skirt. I fiddle with the zipper. Is this it? Are we going to make love right here? Does she even like me? Is this still somehow part of the therapy?

While I anguish over the situation, my hands subconsciously pull the zipper tab down. None of it matters. Her breasts are pressed into my chest, the warmth of her body envelops me, I can't stop thrusting against the soft skin of her hand and her stomach. I'm going to cum. I push her skirt down, desperate to to grab a forbidden part of her body.

The garment drops to the floor. I squeeze her round cheeks, clad only in her white panties. She whispers in my ear, "You can feel me down there, if you want to."

One of my hands reaches further, down her backside between her legs. The cloth of her panties feels more torrid the farther I go. Holy shit, she's enjoying this too. That realization, however, sets me off. I thrust against her one last time as my cock goes rigid.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" I yell, squeezing her tight. My cock throbs against her stomach as I cling to her. Time seems suspended for those few seconds before I release. And then the torrent bursts forth. I jerk against her which pushes her back against a locker door. My hips wrench and I hear metallic bangs. Cum squirts up her stomach as well as mine. A wet sticky feeling grows with each spasm. I release a few final drops, then let out a gasp and fall back, spent.

I look up at her. Her eyes are closed. She's standing against the locker in her underwear, her stomach covered in my juices. "Fuck, Nell. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

She opens her eyes. "It's okay, Nate. It's fine, you did fine."

"Here, let's find the bathroom." I take her hand and scan the room for the entrance to the bathroom. Once I find it, I pull her in that direction.

She sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?"

"Erotic transference."

"What's that?" I ask, pushing open the bathroom door.

"Transference and counter-transference. You've developed feelings for me. And I've developed feelings for you. But they're very dangerous ones."

"Huh?"

"I don't love you, Nate." I feel crushed, even though I didn't expect that she actually had any romantic feelings for me. "Well, I do, but it's not normal love. It's like a motherly love."

I rip a paper towel from the dispenser. I'm entirely confused at this point, so I instead concentrate on cleaning her stomach. I wipe a drop of semen off her before it soaks into her panties.

"Thanks, Nate. What I'm saying is that I've developed a sort of parental affection toward you over the last few months. But it's not just that...it's a, well, a sexual attraction too."

"Whuh?" I'm taken aback and fling the towel in surprise.

"That's why I lied to you and showed up here today. Hell, that's why I suggested this in the first place. Here." She took a paper towel and dabbed the sticky spot on my stomach. "Look at yourself in the mirror. You are a handsome young man, and you shouldn't be so ashamed of your body. You got paid to model today. And you've got me all worked up over you. That should make it obvious that you're attractive."

"I guess, I mean, I just never thought...."

"That's why this is dangerous. It's a case of maternal erotic transference. I have all these protective feelings, and sexual ones at the same time. And young men can easily see their therapists as mother figures. I've taken care of your emotional needs – it's natural to develop an attachment."

I shiver as she cleans off the tip of my softened member. I understand what she means, but I don't want to. I hold her against me. "But why does it have to be so complicated? If we have these feelings...."

She smiles. "Complicated – I'm a psychiatrist, Nate. What did you expect?"

"I, I do love you, though, Nell." Although she had figured that out, saying that for myself feels liberating.

She puts her arms around my back, pulling me closer so that my head rests on her shoulder again. "That's the problem. All these different feelings mixing together. It's really dangerous." I wish she would stop using that word. "It's going to become something Oedipal. Something that's not healthy for you. And I'm a married woman, Nate."

I pull the tie from her hair, causing her bun to fall apart. Her dark auburn locks splash over her back. I grab a clump and hold it to my face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, I should be sorry. I'm the one who's supposed to know what to do here." I feel a droplet hit my shoulder. She sniffs. "But you've got me so confused. We made so much progress. I got you to come to the class and help you face your fear. But what I did went too far. Now I'm afraid that I've hurt you – that I've trapped you. You can open yourself, sexually, around me, and that's helping you open up more than anything else has so far. But in the end it's going to hurt both of us. There's my husband, and I need to maintain a professional–"

It's Nell's turn to pour herself out to me and I can't listen. I feel bad about it, but all I can do is run my fingers through her hair. All I can think about is how good it feels to hold her. All I can feel is her bare skin against mine. Lust returns to my loins and my member starts crawling up her stomach again. Our worries seem meaningless.

I interrupt her stream of words. "Do you think we might be able to do it again? Just one more time?"

"What?"

"You know." I kiss her neck while I shift my hips back and forth a little.

"Oh, Nate. I don't think this can happen. I don't know what to do. I think we have to stop seeing each other."

"Nell?"

"I don't think we – I don't think I can work through this. Look, I'll recommend you another therapist. And you can write to me if you want to, but I don't think we should see each other for a while."

"But Nell..." I couldn't accept that I had lost her. The woman I had given all my troubles to. The woman who had put me in a situation that scared me to hell and made me like it. The woman who I had let touch me for the first time. "Please don't do this."

"This is what I was afraid of, Nate."

"Maybe just a little more time together." I press my hips against her. My hands run down her back, finding her ass once again. My erection pokes her stomach.

"Nate!" She broke my hold and pushed me back. Seeing what I had just done, I realize she's right. "I'm going to go back to the locker room and get my purse. I'll give you the name of another therapist. And from now on, I want you to try to think of Bijou. I want you to have a healthy relationship. Please, be brave and ask her out, and try to forget about me."

Her eyes look as watery as mine feel. Her glasses are fogged up. I nod. She hugs me and gives me one last peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

---

I sit in my room, looking at the canvas Nell had used. It shows that same crudeness as her portrait of Bijou. Even more so because I'm sitting on a stool, completely nude, displaying a prominent erection that has little white dribbles on it. I open the paper with a psychiatrist's name written on it, then crumple it and throw it against the wall.