tagAnalThe Cornhole Championship

The Cornhole Championship

byCharles Petersunn©

This story is placed within the anal section as it concerns anal sex. If you don't enjoy stories involving anal sex then you really shouldn't read this story. You will be wasting your time. But, if you do like such stories, then I hope you like this one!.

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"It was a pretty strange dream."

"Dreams are the royal road to the unconscious, John. It can be very helpful to explore them. Please, go ahead."

This was just the second session with Dr. Lowenstein and she was still conducting her assessment of John's problem. Dr. Lowenstein was a certified sex therapist working with students at Templeton College (e.g., see "There must be something wrong with me" and "Cosplay"). John came to her because he was having erectile dysfunction problems. He would at times have difficulty getting an erection and at other times have difficulty sustaining his erection.

It didn't happen all the time. In fact, it didn't happen most of the time. Much of the time he was fine. But, it did happen frequently enough to trouble him.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he did not currently have a girlfriend. That was fortunate in that his problem was not disrupting or harming a relationship. It was unfortunate because he didn't have a partner with whom to work out the problem. And, well, of course, it is always unfortunate not to be within a relationship. And John had no intention of dating until he got over the problem.

The problem became evident simply through his evenings at masturbation. John did like doing that. In fact, he masturbated most every night. He would at times refrain for a few days, as he felt that he would then build up quite a head of steam, so to speak, for a really nice, special evening.

But, he began to have some difficulty. Sometimes he would have difficulty getting an erection started. He knew that as you got older you would begin to have some difficulty getting erections, but at nineteen? He felt considerably older than when he was in high school, but he was still just nineteen, a sophomore in college. No, it couldn't be aging.

He then wondered if he was jerking off too often. Once a day is perhaps doing it too often. When he was in junior high he might do it twice in an evening (and perhaps even once during the same day). Those were good times. Perhaps he was indeed getting old, having cut back to just once a day. But he also noticed that the difficulty did not seem to be correlated with the amount of time off.

He then wondered if perhaps he might be gay. He got aroused thinking about girls. He masturbated to fantasies about girls: girls he knew or actresses he thought were hot, or just girls of his fantasy world. He imagined them doing all sorts of things: slowly taking off their clothes, teasing him, fondling him, blowing him, letting him cum on their faces. All of that got him really, really aroused, except sometimes it didn't. And, well into a masturbation episode he might just suddenly lose his desire and no matter how much he thought about the respective girl's boobs, her cunt, her lips, he just couldn't get his erection back.

So, he tried fantasizing about guys. But, that didn't work. Much as he tried to think and fantasize about having sex with a guy, it just didn't work. He would then switch to a pretty girl he knew and he very quickly became erect. It didn't seem to be that he was actually gay.

He just couldn't figure it out. He even started to have very restless nights, filled with all sorts of strange and disturbing dreams. He realized that he really needed to see a therapist so he made an appointment to see Dr. Lowenstein. The first session was devoted to gathering information concerning life history, his sexual history, his relationship history, and the history of his sexual problem.

It had been a difficult session for John, talking about all that personal stuff, particularly with a woman, and a woman as attractive as Dr. Lowenstein. She had absolutely gorgeous big grey eyes, dark lashes, long wavy auburn hair, sweet red lips, a delicate, thin nose, and a lovely, incandescent smile. He reminded John of Julia Roberts, with spectacles, and that was pretty darned nice. In fact, after the first session he had gone home to the dorm to masturbate thinking about her, about feeling her breasts, her sucking him off, and even having sex with her on her analyst's couch.

It was a good session. It began with her explaining to him, "You know, John, doctors can have sex problems too." She got up out of her chair and stood before him, unbuttoning her blouse. "I haven't had sex in so, so long, John. It can be so difficult for a professional woman to find a man. I just need a little release, a little relief. You'll help me, won't you, John?"

As he stroked himself he thought about Dr. Lowenstein slowly taking off her clothes, standing in front of him dressed in just a lacy brassiere and panties, lifting up her big boobs for him, bending over to have him snuggle his face in those lusciously soft female pillows. He was getting harder and harder. In his fantasy she stood before him and slowly pulled down her panties, her eyes remaining fixed on his, smiling all the time as she watched him get more and more excited as she bent over, the cleavage of her brassiere opening up wider and wider, his eyes uncertain where to look, into her eyes, down into her cleavage, or at her hands drawing her panties down her thighs. She let them fall to the floor and stood back up straight, albeit using her hands to keep her modesty, hiding her cunt from view.

"John," she asked, "Would you be willing to please your doctor, with your mouth? No man has ever done that for me before, and it would make me so very, very happy. I've always wondered what it would be like to have a man use his lips, his tongue, there on my, my...."

"Your cunt," he said, in his fantasy.

The doctor covered her face with her hands in embarrassment, yet in doing so revealing to his eyes the sight of her womanly cunt. He was rather surprised, but pleased, to see that the doctor shaved herself. "You have no hair?" he inquired.

"Oh, goodness," she said, her hands retreating back down to her cunt. "You're not upset, are you?"

He was actually quite pleased, particularly if he was going to eat her out. He much preferred a shaved than a hairy cunt when doing something like that, although he had not in fact done it very much. "No, no," he said, reassuringly. He took her hands and gently moved them aside so that he could see her again.

"Oh please don't look," the doctor said, again covering her face in embarrassment.

"It's beautiful, doctor," he said, in his mind, his fantasy, as he continued to stroke his dick.

It was indeed. He imagined the doctor would have a cunt as pretty as her eyes: smooth, white, and pure, a nicely intimate, petite pouch cut by just a small enticing slit. He leaned forward to place his lips against hers and, as he grasped hold of her womanly full butt his cock lurched and swelled in his hand. He stopped for a moment as it felt like he was about to cum, and he had not yet even gotten as far in his fantasy where he was actually fucking her.

He then started licking, sucking, and chewing on the doctor's cunt and clit, all the while squeezing and pawing her soft, pliant buttocks.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my goodness," gasped the doctor. She rested her hands on his shoulders, finding it difficult to maintain her balance, to keep her legs steady, as she apparently had never felt anything like this before. "This is so wonderful," she sighed. "You're so good at that, John. You make me feel so alive, so excited. Oh my goodness," she exclaimed, with some embarrassment, "I'm getting so wet!"

She pushed him away, apparently realizing that she was herself getting close to cumming. "Please, I must have you. I must feel your, your...."

"Cock?" he answered for her, the inhibited, frustrated doctor apparently quite insecure about speaking so bluntly, so wantonly.

Her face turned red at his imprudent, bold language.

"Yes, yes, your, your penis. I must feel it inside me. You must have such a big, hard, stiff penis. Please, please let me see it."

In his fantasy he undid his slacks and pulled out his cock, displaying it with some pride to the doctor.

"Oh yes, yes. Oh my goodness, it's so impressive." She blushed again at the sight. "I don't know if I can take one that big in me." John did not hold back on his fantasies. Why should he? It was his fantasy. It might as well be as good as he wants it to be.

She got down onto the floor, spread open her legs, and pulled her knees back against her chest, to offer herself in as open, inviting, and obscene manner as possible. "Fuck me, John, fuck the doctor with that big, hard, oh my, that, that, COCK of yours!"

But, then, John could suddenly feel the arousal, the excitement, suddenly dissipating, slipping away from him like air from a punctured balloon. His dick went limp, and he lay there confused, disappointed, and distraught.

He was now back for his second session with Dr. Lowenstein, lying down on her analyst couch, the doctor sitting in her chair behind him and to his right, where she was out of his sight, but he was fully within hers. Dr. Lowenstein was having him describe one of his recent nightmares for her.

"Well, um, I was trying to burrow through this tight, dark, cave, or tunnel. I'm not really sure now which it was. I guess it must have been a tunnel. It was really very frightening, so narrow, so tight, but the walls were so soft and squishy, not like any tunnel or cave I've ever seen. It was like I woke up buried alive and I didn't know where I was and I was trying to squeeze and burrow my way through this cramped crawl space, trying to escape, trying to get out, yet it seemed like I was in fact going in deeper and deeper, but..."

He paused.

"But?"

"What?"

"You said, 'but.'"

"But?"

"Yes, you said 'but.' But what?"

He wasn't too sure he wanted to tell her all of the parts of the dream.

"You need to tell me all of the dream, John. It's really quite important."

He took a deep breath and told her the rest. "Yea, well, the weirdest part was that I developed this big erection. I mean, like, a really, really big one."

"Yes, yes, very interesting," Dr. Lowenstein replied, crossing her legs.

"It was so weird to be so frightened yet to have this really, big, hard...." He couldn't say it.

She finished for him, "Cock?"

"Yes," he shamefully admitted. "I mean, well, it was so big that it was making it difficult for me to squeeze through. It just kept getting caught. The tunnel was so darned tight, and dark, and I was getting more and more scared, yet more and more excited, getting harder and harder, swelling up really, really big making it even harder to get through the tunnel and then...I woke up."

"Yes, yes," Dr. Lowenstein replied, "very interesting, John, very interesting, indeed."

"You think it means something?"

"Oh, I don't know. I don't know." She knew full well what it meant but it was always best for the patient to reach his or her own insight. "What do you think, John?"

"It doesn't mean anything to me, other than being just so weird."

"Yes, well, did you have any other dreams this past week?"

"Yea, quite a few of them, all of them nightmares."

"Tell me about another one."

"Well, there was this other one in which I was sitting on this big soft white pillow. It was actually more like a giant round cushion, one as big as a room. But, it was outdoors. I was in this field, lying on this giant round, soft, white cushion, looking up at the moon. There was a full moon that night. I do like staring at the moon, don't you, doctor?"

"The moon is a very wonderful symbol, John."

"Yea, I was just lying there, admiring the big round white moon, and then, like, suddenly, I got this big hard-on. I don't know why. All I was doing was looking at the moon and I got really sexually excited."

"When you're awake does that ever happen?"

John turned his head away to face the wall, away from the doctor, as he admitted, very, very shamefully, "Yea, actually that has happened, a couple of times." He knew that must sound really crazy. "Does that mean something?"

"What else happened in your dream, John? So far it sounds like a very pleasant dream."

"Yea, it was weird, 'cause then suddenly, well, not suddenly, slowly this hole opened up beneath me, just gradually, slowly, getting bigger and bigger, and I found myself being drawn down into this hole in the cushion, being slowly pulled in, or more like squeezed in. I tried to get out. I tried to hold onto the cushions, but they were so slippery, smooth, and soft. I couldn't get a good grip, and I kept sinking down into this tight little hole, like I was being sucked into a cushion's quicksand, and all the time my, my..." He again couldn't say it.

"Your cock?"

"Yea, my, you know, my penis. My penis was getting harder and harder, and stiffer and stiffer, and it was so difficult squeezing it in, until eventually only my head was outside of the hole, just my head was poking out, and as it popped in I took a deep breath and felt like I was going to ejaculate, but I woke up."

"Yes, most interesting, John, most interesting indeed."

"You really think these dreams mean something, Dr. Lowenstein?"

"Well, sometimes they do, John, sometimes they do."

"Yea, well, you're the doctor. There's this third one I remember. Do you want me to tell you that one too?"

"If you wish, John, if you wish."

"Yea, well, in this one I was with this girl I know, Nina Hartley. I don't really know her at all. She's just this girl I know. Well, actually, I kind of like her, you know. Actually, I can't really say I really like her, 'cause I don't really know her. I would like to know her but, well, you know, I really don't feel right about asking any girl out right now."

"And what happened in this dream, John?" He was clearly demonstrating some resistance in talking about this girl.

"Yea, the dream, well, it started off fine. I was in fact, well we were in fact, making out, you know, kissing, and I had this....um."

"Erection?"

"Yea, but, well."

'Tell me everything that you can remember about the dream, John. Each detail can be quite important."

"Yea, well, it was, well, kind of weird, 'cause I like had this...erection, but it was, like, so much bigger than I had ever had before." He turned his face back toward the doctor, although he couldn't actually see her. "I mean it was gargantuan big, crazy big and, well I mean, like, it was so big I was thinking that there was no way she would be able to take this thing. Is that really possible, doctor?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, is it really possible to be so big a girl can't take it?"

"Well, technically," Dr. Lowenstein hesitantly replied, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, a warmth developing in her thighs as she imagined taking a really, really "gargantuan" one, "I suppose that it is conceivably possible that a boy, a man, could be too big, but the average woman can in fact take quite a big one, if she wanted."

John felt like asking the doctor what was the biggest one she had ever taken, but he figured that might be too personal. "Yea, well, it was weird, I mean, like..." His voice quieted. "I'm not really that big," he confessed, "and it was so strange to think that I would be too big, that it wouldn't fit, and," his speech accelerated, "and I really wanted this girl and she clearly wanted me. We were really going at it, but suddenly my erection just slipped away, and I had this big panic. What was I going to do now? What would she think? One moment I'm dying to have her touch me, down there, you know, and then the next moment I'm scared shitless that she will, 'cause then she'd discover that I didn't even have an erection, and probably wasn't going to get one. I thought of telling her that I didn't want to go too far too fast, like as an excuse, you know, and then suddenly we're in this field of rose bushes, like we're surrounded by roses. That's my favorite flower, a rose. Seems weird for a guy to have a favorite flower, I know, but for some reason I really like red roses. Pink ones are good too. Do they have brown roses? They really should."

"A brown rose?" That did seem to be an odd association, an odd preference.

"Sure? Why not? Well, in any case, with the roses my erection returned like gangbusters and she had her hand down in my pants, feeling it, and I had my hand down in her panties and we were like feeling each other up but she had the weirdest, strangest, um...."

"Pussy?"

"Yea, like her vagina just felt so weird. Not right at all, not like one is supposed to feel. I mean like the mound was really abnormally large and round, like all puffed out cheeks, and, well." He knew this was going to sound weird, but dreams can indeed be very weird, "you know, the crack, the slit, it actually wasn't like that. There was instead a really large crack, spilling the cheeks of her vagina, and down inside there was just this rounded puckered tight curly hole, like all squiggly, and wrinkled, and dry, real dry, like she wasn't excited at all."

The doctor clarified, "A tightly puckered, wrinkled dry hole?"

"Yea, but I wanted to get in there so, so bad. My, well, my penis was so rock solid hard, and clearly way too big for that little thing, and the hole was just so tightly shut I was even having difficulty getting my finger in there. And then she took her hand away from my, you know..."

"Your cock?"

"Yea, she took it away, which was pretty disappointing, but she did that to reach down, with both hands, down into her panties, to grab hold of those big cheeks of her vagina to spread them open for me and, she said, 'Fuck me, John, I want you to fuck me up my' and then I woke up."

They were quiet for a second.

The doctor asked, "Up her what, John?"

"Up her, you know, doctor, up her, you said it before...her vagina."

"Are you sure, John?"

"What?"

"Are you sure that's what she wanted?"

"Goodness, I think so. I mean she was spreading it open, and everything."

He wasn't getting the point of her question.

John pondered her question further. "Well, you know, in real life I don't think Nina would, you know, want me."

The root of the problem was obvious to Dr. Lowenstein.

"John, have you ever tried anal sex?"

"Dr. Lowenstein!" John was quite shocked at such a question. "I am not gay, Dr. Lowenstein. I already told you that."

"Nobody is suggesting that, John, not that there is anything wrong with it. I was just wondering if you had ever tried anal sex, with a girl, for instance."

"Goodness, no, Dr. Lowenstein, that would be, like, perverted."

She didn't answer him immediately.

"Wouldn't it?" he asked again.

"John, what I think is happening is that your repression of your unconscious desires is blocking your conscious desires from being expressed. It's really like something stuck in a narrow pipe. It's hard at times for your conscious desires to push their way through when your unconscious ones are so constipated, blocking the way. You need to flush them all out. You need to discover your unconscious desires and expel them, purge them from your system. You need to ream out that unconscious."

Well, that was a lot for John to absorb.

"Here," the doctor offered, "let's try a little psychodrama."

"Psychodrama?"

"Yes, psychodrama. It's a very standard psychotherapeutic technique in which you act out your sexual relationship difficulties. It's a marvelous way to release and expose subconscious thoughts, fantasies, and fears." Dr. Lowenstein was really quite skilled at psychodrama (e.g., "There must be something wrong with me").

John had never taken any psychology classes so he really didn't know what she was talking about, but that would hardly matter. She was the doctor and you should always trust your doctor. "Yea, sure, okay."

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byCharles Petersunn© 14 comments/ 171901 views/ 36 favorites

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