The Therapist's Journey Ch. 03

"I turned my head to his and we started kissing, our mouths and tongues locked together. Soon our kisses bordered on the desperate. I sensed his need for me as he pushed his mouth hard against mine. However, the power which our bodies were now grinding against each other forced me forward, making it impossible for us to keep kissing. I leaned forward, my hands on my husband's table, my hips rocking between my son's hand, which was feasting on my sopping wet cunt, and his cock, which was pushing against the crease of my asshole. I could hear myself groaning in pleasure. It seemed like he would keep me at this plateau forever, denying me my yearning for a climax."

Theresa's hand, which had started on my knee, was now moving along the inside of my thigh. I had allowed my dress to be pushed up over my knees and had spread my legs, giving her unimpeded access. My mind was a swamp of lust and the air was scented with the smell of two pussies flowing with need.

Theresa continued. "I heard his voice. 'Open your eyes.' I did and saw the people gathered outside for the picnic. I started scanning for my husband when I heard my son's voice again. 'He is with the group immediately to the left of the keg tent.' My eyes picked him out of the crowd.

"Sally, I felt sorry for all those people. None of them had a lover as sweet as my son. Pulling away from him, I knelt on the table and pulled my shirt over my head. I displayed by nakedness before the window."

With those words I looked down to her breasts. As a result of her fumbling with the buttons of her shirt earlier, only the bottom two were still in place. I could see her dark erect nipples pressed against the fabric of her tee shirt. I could also see the wonderful round heaviness of her breasts. I heard her continue to talk and knew she was saying something important, although the itch between my legs was making deep analysis impossible.

"Maybe knowing no one could see us meant it was all false courage, but in the presence of my husband and all that he held most important I was ready to let the world know to whom I belonged. A way to send that message to my son also came to me. I told him if there was ever going to be a time to take my asshole, it was now."

I knew we were on to something important, but the question that came out my mouth may be the least-artful inquiry ever by a psychologist. It was the best my lust-befuddled brain could do.

With my eyes still on her breasts, I asked, "Your decision to let him into your rectum, what portion of that was due to your arousal and the way your son had been making love to you and what portion due to your desire to demonstrate your commitment to him?"

Theresa looked at me looking at her breasts. "Sally, I don't know. She touched her breasts through her tee shirt. "I can't tell whether this nipple is stiff due to my memory of his hand in my cunt or my memory of stripping before the window. Can you?" She took my right hand in hers and placed it on her breast.

It may have been a joke, but we both jumped. I felt the warmth of her exquisite breast through the tee shirt. I could also feel her erect nipple, which had intrigued me since she described it in our first session. I stroked it.

"Oooh, that felt good. Slide to the end of the couch."

I did until my back was against the end and both legs on the couch. Theresa settled between my leg, which ran along side hers. Her back rested on my chest. She was a slender woman and I enjoyed the pressure of her body. She placed my hands on her breasts. "If you don't mind. It feels nice and comforting." I raised no objection. I traced the outline of her areolas and nipples with a finger and then, spreading my thumb and index finger I fitted them to the areolas of her breasts. That had the circumference about right. They were as wide as she had described. With both hands I then gently squeezed, bringing a low moan from her. Her tee shirt was not so tight that I couldn't slip my hands under her breasts. They were good-sized, my hands did not completely cover their undersides. I also felt their weight and firmness. For the first time I understood why guys so liked these things.

She had noticeably relaxed in the short time I had been enjoying her breasts. Nonetheless, it seemed a therapeutic technique I should not generally introduce to my clients.

"Where were we?"

"You had just told your son to sodomize you," I replied.

"Oh yeah, that," she giggled.

She continued "I laid across my husband's table, my ass sticking over the edge and my legs dangling to the floor, luxuriating in the fine soft leather table top. Taking the part of the eager partner, I pulled my ass cheeks apart, offering my backside to my son. My son's hands quickly replaced my own. He pulled my rump farther apart and licked my butthole. I felt a pleasant tingle, a sensation that continued when he blew a steady stream of air onto my now moist anus. He followed this my forcing his tongue inside. He spent the next few minutes alternating between licking and tongue-fucking my asshole. I was rubbing by clitoris against the leather table top in time with his tongue. I could feel the heat building up inside me and the juice flowing from my vagina onto my husband's table. If his goal was to stimulate me until I was ready to affirm my desire to let him enter me anally, he had succeeded. I told him to stop teasing me and put something inside.

"'C'mon baby, its time to fuck Mommy's asshole. Mommy's a virgin back there. Please baby, take my cherry. Take my cherry baby.' I found myself enjoying playing the naughty girl.

"His mouth left my butt. I felt a lubricated finger enter me from behind. He moved it slowly in, then out, then repeated. As he did he twisted and rotated the finger, increasing the sensations inside me. That finger was then joined by a second, and a third. I had never had anything bigger than one of his thumb's back there. I felt stretched and while the stimulation aroused me, it was joined by discomfort. I tried to compensate by rubbing my pussy even harder against the desk top. Before I chickened out, I turned my head to my son and let him know, 'It's time, time to put it inside me.'

"I watched as he coated his tool with lubricant and stepped between my legs. Even in the dim light of the office it glistened."

She paused. "He later told me that he had been carrying the lubricant with him for weeks hoping for this moment."

Theresa took a second, leaning against my body, and continued. "He patiently increased the pressure pushing the head of his thing into me. When the ring finally popped open, I felt a sharp pain. After he gave me a few seconds to adjust, he entered me slowly and steadily, an inch or two at a time, but even with the lubricant it hurt. When he fucked me the old-fashioned way I always thought his cock a tree trunk. When he entered my butt it was definitely a redwood. My breathing became rapid and deep to deal with the pain. He could tell I was uncomfortable and asked me if I wanted to continue. I told him yes, but that he needed to give Mommy a chance to adjust.

"He did just that. While we both were still he told me how long he had waited for this, how my butt was even tighter and hotter than he imagined, and how amazing it was to look down and see his thing buried inside me. Then he gestured to the window and announced that every man out there, no matter how successful, would beg to trade places with him.

"Of course, I had to tell him later that the idea of every guy at the party butt fucking me was not exactly a turn-on.

"Instead, I looked back at him. 'Son, that's not really the point. The point is that only you get to do it. No one else ever has, no one else ever will.' Sally, he seemed reassured. I am not sure he understood until that moment how committed I was to our affair.

"Over the next few minutes I started to accommodate to the monster inside me. I still felt stuffed, but it had shifted from the painful to the uncomfortable. He started to use the muscles in his groin to make his cock jump inside me. The movement was slight, but it was finding the sensitive places inside me that my son and I had spent the last few months exploring. It started to tingle back there. I lay still on the table, letting my mind focus on the burgeoning stimuli. I was starting to enjoy it. I told him to continue.

"Gently and carefully he started to fuck my ass. I don't think he fully understood the effect he was having on me until I let out a long slow moan. I took advantage of the moisture once again seeping from me to start rocking my hips, sliding my clit across the table top. My boy started matching my movement, his thrusts inside me limited to the two or three inches. It was really starting to get to me. The two of us had spent enough time in bed that he could easily discern the level of my arousal from the sounds I was making and the thin sheen of sweat covering my body. At the exact moment I was ready for it I felt his hands on my hips. He used them to control my movements, as he steadily increased the length of his thrusts. Soon he was fucking the full length of his cock into my butt. The head of his cock was sliding from my anus to deep within my bowels, but he was always smooth and slow. He continued his deliberate movement. I continued to slide my cunt across the table, soon finding myself lost in the sensations.

"Sally, I had not thought it could happen when we started, but it dawned on me that I was on the way to an orgasm. I had not thought anal intercourse could bring me to an orgasm, but I suddenly found one growing inside me. I let the excitement wash over me. I heard my son's breathing deepen. I looked back and could see he was completely lost in the sex; there was nothing in the world for him but what my rectum was doing to his penis. He was close to exploding. I needed more time.

"I cautioned him. 'Mommy loves being ass fucked, baby. Mommy's gonna cum baby, but she needs more time. You don't mind slowing down so Mommy can come? Do you baby? Mommy wants to cum on your magnificent cock.'"

"Boys do like to be praised, don't they," I observed.

Theresa laid her head back on my shoulder and kissed my cheek. "That they do."

"With that he pushed all the way into me, and started a rolling motion, mashing my clitoris into the table and increasing the stimulation. The intensity of what I was feeling had me on the edge. Then I heard some voices in the hall. The perfection of the circumstance struck me: my rump was being penetrated for the first time, it was happening on my husband's desk in my husband's office, we were surrounded by hundreds of his friends and colleagues, two of whom were less then thirty feet away separated from us by only a wall, and it was my son's cock inside me. I came. It felt like a coiled spring, compressed to its tightest point, and then pressed down a little farther. Then, bam, all that tension released and I was flying and at the apex of my arc, hovering for an impossibly long moment.

"Sally, I am usually not a screamer, but I was about to roar. Afraid that the people in the hallway would hear me, with whatever rationality I could muster I buried my mouth in my forearm to stifle my scream. Waves of bliss radiated out from where my son had entered me. As my body jerked and spasmed, I heard my son's low guttural grunt as he filled me with his cum. I slumped forward, he pulled out and staggered backwards.

Theresa placed his hands over mine, holding them still against her breasts.

"If you don't stop, I just might attack you."

I had, almost without thought, become increasingly aggressive with her breasts during the course of her story. A picture of me with her nipples in my mouth flashed through my mind.

She sat up, moving away from me, her back now against the couch. "Should I finish?"

I nodded yes.

"My son slumped back into one of the office chairs. I crawled onto the desk. After taking a few minutes to recover I rolled onto my side, propping my head on my hand, elbow on the table. We chatted for a few minutes, mostly about the rest of the day. Then I noted the time and told my son we needed to pack up. The table was stained in several places with what had flowed from my vagina and drops of his cum dripping from my backside. My son wanted to leave them as a souvenir. I insisted we clean it up. His half-hearted protest fell when I pointed out that any investigation into the source of the stains would show we had used our security card to enter the building and that we were the only ones likely to have a key to my husband's office. Did he really want us to be suspects?

"We left the building, found my drunk husband, and drove home. My husband was ready to crawl into bed, but we kept him up til his normal bed-time and fed him a few more whiskeys. By the time his head hit the pillow he was out cold. For the first time while my husband was in the house I crawled into my son's bed. We made sweet love and fell asleep. I had set the alarm for 3:00 A.M., when I woke up and returned to my husband's side."

She seemed finished. I was far too aroused to do any analysis, but I knew there was important information in this account. I would have to listen to the recording carefully. I did have a few questions.

"Theresa, has he been different since that day?"

"Actually, yes. Up until that time he had displayed a lot of the bravado you talked about, claiming he owned me, wanting me to tell him that I belonged to him, things like that. He doesn't do that anymore. He seems much more comfortable."

"Is anal intercourse still part of your sexual activity?" She nodded yes.

"Excuse me if this sounds a bit silly, but do you enjoy it more, less, or the same as the first time."

She thought for a moment. "The first time was very special, but if you are talking about pure physical pleasure, its better now. I'm less apprehensive and I have been stretched a little back there." She gestured to her backside. "Although I still need several days to recover." She paused and then asked, "So, what do you think?"

"There is a lot here, but I need to take some time to let it coalesce."

Should I continue to treat her and her son? My objectivity was hopelessly compromised. However, while I was presently far too addled to put it all together, the nagging feeling that what I had heard today was important wouldn't leave me. I thought I could help.

"I would like to see your son," I told Theresa. I went to buzz the staff, but no one responded. The appointment had rolled past 5:00 P.M. It was 5:30. "Let's go look at the appointment book."

We entered the outer office. I found a note affixed to the book showing my 4:00 P.M. for Wednesday had cancelled and asking whether I wanted to charge her. I have a 72 hour cancellation rule. If you do not cancel 72 hours in advance, you are charged for the session. Since this was her third cancellation, I checked the box instructing my staff to send her a bill. I opened the book and surveyed the available times. I told Theresa that Miles could have the Wednesday time slot. She said she would check with her son to see if he was available.

I reached into a draw at the desk in the front and retrieved the form all new patients are required to sign and two waivers of client confidentiality.

"What are those?" she asked.

"One is the same agreement you signed before your first appointment. The other two are waivers of confidentiality. All communications between you and I have been private. I am not allowed to discuss them with anyone. If I am going to see you and your son I will need to disclose to each of you information provided by the other. These forms give me permission to do so. In regular couples counseling permission to do so is presumed and can be provided verbally, but I don't think you two are a traditional couple; you two are pretty much your own category."

"Can I call tonight after I check his schedule?" she asked.

"There will no one here to talk to." I never provide my clients with my cell phone number. I want to maintain proper boundaries with my clients and do not want them calling me at 3:00 A.M. to discuss the import of a dream in which their mother was riding a unicorn. However, my boundaries with Theresa were already hopelessly compromised and I didn't see her as a threat for a middle of the night call. "I will give you my cell phone number, but please treat it confidentially." She thanked me. We walked to the door, holding hands. She turned to face me, slipping two fingers inside my belt.

"I can't thank you enough for what you are doing." Then she leaned forward and kissed me. Our lips played against each other for a few seconds. "My husband is out playing poker with his buddies tonight. I promised Miles he would have the winning hand. And again, thank you so much. You're the best." I told her I was happy I could help. She turned and headed for the elevators.

After she got on I looked at the clock. It was 5:40. I would need only five, maybe ten, minutes to close-up and get to the restaurant, another five to touch-up my make up, which should leave me enough time for this. I used my fingers to bring myself off and at least temporarily quiet the burning between my legs.

* * * *

I was ten minutes late meeting Robert. As I entered the restaurant he stood up and walked over to me, taking my hand and kissing me on the cheek. He pulled out my chair and returned to his seat. A bottle of my favorite wine was ready. As he filled my wine glass I apologized for running late.

"I had assumed you were working late with one of your clients."

"I was. She is new and presents issues I have never dealt with before. She gave me a lot of information today. I have this nagging feeling that once I let it settle my brain, we will be on the road to a resolution."

For the next hour I relaxed and enjoyed the pleasure of Robert's company. After briefly discussing the dinner party we were attending Saturday night, I sat back and enjoyed the conversation of the most charming, wittiest, and smartest man I'd ever known. By the time he finished his story about the latest snafu with the hospital's insurer, most of the wait staff and half the restaurant's patrons were doubled over in laughter.

He checked his watch and reminded me it was time to get on the road if I wanted to make my son's meet. He asked the waiter to prepare a doggie bag for me and then to prepare the bill while he walked his "lovely lady" to her car. There I kissed him with a bit more passion than usual and told him how much I loved him. He seemed a little taken aback by my sudden display of ardor, but told me he loved me too and kissed me on the cheek. I did love Robert. I was afraid of how the strange events of the last few days would affect us; I did not want to lose him.

I had turned my cell phone off when in the restaurant. When I powered it back up, I saw Theresa had called. I called back and reached a very happy voice struggling to catch its breath.

"Theresa, it's Sally. Did I call you at a bad time?"

Her voice was languid. "No, ten minutes ago would have been a bad time. Right now is just right."

There was no question about what they had been doing.

"Did you talk to your son?"

It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts. "I did. He is taking Stanford's mandatory introductory on-line course from 3:30 to 4:30 P.M. each day this week. Could he come at 5:00 P.M.?" Then she laughed. "I also told him how beautiful you are and what killer legs you have. He wants to know if you will wear garters and a leather dress."

I could hear her embarrassed son in the background, "Mom, you were not supposed to tell her that...."

When I said no to the clothes, Theresa was not fazed, "C'mon Sally it would be fun." I repeated my objection, she asked again. I started to object when I realized the pointlessness of arguing with a love-struck woman in a post-orgasmic haze. I also thought of a mid-calf leather dress I had not worn in awhile. I did look great in it.