A Different Kind of Therapy

Hello my beautiful readers. First off, l want to apologise to everyone who's been waiting for the second chapter to "Anna the temptress". Real life has been keeping me busy for quite a while, and even though l have been writing quite a lot, l haven't had the time to finish my writings.

I have a number of different stories l'm working on at the moment, and l'll try to publish my work more regularly.

I've given my writing a lot of thought lately, and l would actually love to do this for a living. I'm not sure if there's any money to be made in writing erotica, but your feedback means a lot to me. Constructive feedback helps me become a better writer, so please, if you enjoy my work, let me know if there's anything that l can improve upon.

Lastly: this story is loosely based on real events. Details have been altered though (and some details have been exaggerated), and the names of the people involved have been changed to protect their privacy. I don't want to give too many spoilers, but the story revolves around infidelity, seduction and voyeurism, so if any of those themes offend you, please stop reading, and hit "back" on your browser.

Enjoy

Xoxo

/Anna

Ps. A massive thanks you to Steven for your help.

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INTRODUCTION

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You might not believe this if you met me, but l've been a really shy person, when it comes to sex.

You could say l compensated for it, with an outgoing personality. l really enjoy meeting new people, and l love getting to know people that l've never met before. I'd like to think that it's not just my looks that make my friends call me "the life of the party".

You see, l've been called 'petite' many times, and my stature only serves to make my large breasts seem even larger. My hair is long and jet black, that and my dark brown eyes belie my scandinavian heritage.

Being so outgoing, it surprised a lot of people to hear that l haven't really had much sex. It might take an in depth study to really figure out why though. It's not one of those cases of 'l had a bad experience that made me lose interest'. Although my experiences so far hadn't been that bad, they had all been clumsy attempts, fumbling handjobs, two-minute-in-missionary-kinds of experiences. They hadn't been bad enough to make me think sex couldn't be a wonderful experience. I do tend to ramble on sometimes, but l think you get my point.

I'd like to think l have a healthy, natural interest in sex. I think it has more to do with a fear of having something large inside me, tearing me apart. I also don't want to be one of those girls who initiate sex, but then tell the guy to stop if his size hurts my insides. But maybe that's just how l rationalized my non-existant sex life.

My shyness drove me to excel in other areas, namely academia, and l spent more saturday nights with my head in a book, than giving head. I did masturbate regularly though, and there's a shoe box in my closet, labelled 'dissertations', that mom and dad thankfully never bother to open, or they'd find a box full of toys that used to help me get through the day.

The astute reader might recognize that l'm using past tense to describe my 'predicament'. Since this is an erotic story, it might not surprise you to hear this, but last year, all it took was one evening to change my perspective on life, sex, love and family. Those are pretty important themes to a lot of people, so let me tell you what happened.

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In the early days of summer last year l met Cory. I was 19, and a straight A student. The world was my oyster, and the sky was my limit. The only problem was, l didn't really know what l wanted to do with my life, so l got a part time job as a waitress in a restaurant, both to make some money and not have to mooch off my parents, but also to maintain a daily routine, forcing me to set the alarm in the evening.

In that very restaurant l met Him. Him, Cory. He had turned 24 years old, looked amazingly handsome at around 6', well built body, but not enough to come off as a gym rat. His eyes were kind behind his glasses, and his short brown hair was always in that just-got-out-of-bed-hairdo.

I say "always", as it seemed Cory and his friends had made the restaurant where l worked their go-to place. His friends were a little obnoxious, but he looked really cute. Most guys are pretty easy to read, and l could tell he was into me as well.

After a few weeks of harmless flirting, l gave Cory my number, and we spent that entire evening texting. I learned that Cory worked at his father's construction company. When l asked him what he did at the company he replied "l keep dad's coffee cup full, and try to learn everything he knows," and l couldn't help but chuckle. Cory didn't seem to mind talking about his dad, Eric Johnson, and their relationship, but l got the sense that he didn't want to talk about his mother Amanda. It struck me as a little strange, but l dismissed the thought and we went on to talk about other topics.

As it was friday evening, we both knew we wouldn't see each other until monday, and just as l was about to text Cory that l needed some sleep, he wrote "Wanna chat more tomorrow? Maybe over a cup of coffee".

I was a little surprised by his text. l figured he was interested in me, and even though l had my doubts about Cory being 'the one', l really liked him, so l wrote back "if it's better than the coffee you serve your dad, then sure," and giggled. We then settled the details and said good night.

The next day we had a really fun date, and l got to know Cory even more. He told me that he really loved buildings and he graduated college with a major in architecture. I didn't know the first thing about architecture, but l liked pretty buildings. When l said that, Cory laughed, and he had a cute laugh.

The more we talked, the more l realized l might be developing genuine feelings for him. He asked a lot about me and he was really supportive of my choice to only apply for college when l was ready.

After the date, Cory drove me home. I was thankful that my parents weren't home, so l'd be able to avoid the inevitable inquisition later on.

"You know, Cory.... I kinda have a confession to make," l said, smiling up at him as he walked me to the front door, and he raised a curious eyebrow. "I told my best friend Sara about you, and about our date. She'll be calling me in about 15 minutes to make sure l made it back home alright," l added, and l was glad to see Cory wasn't upset by it.

"It's a safety thing, sure l can understand that," Cory replied. I was so happy to hear him say that, and it felt like he was saying all the right things. As l looked deep into his eyes l felt an unusual sense of surety and warmth. I knew l'd be really safe with Cory. He wouldn't hurt me.

"Soo... What will you tell her?" Cory asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"That l let you get to second base," l replied without hesitation, and l grabbed his left hand, placing it on the side of my right breast, and before he could react l pulled his head down and kissed him on the lips.

At that very moment, Cory could have asked for anything. If he had asked to come inside, l would have said yes, and we would most likely have fucked like rabbits. At least that's what it felt like to me, but it also felt like the whole neighborhood were staring at us, so l reluctantly broke off the kiss.

Cory stood still looking at me for several seconds, before he realized his hand was still on my breast, and l could see he didn't want to let it go. Nevertheless he did, and it might be somewhat of a stereotypical bitchy thing to do (l hope not), but l gave him a peck on the lips, told him to text me, and went inside, closing the door behind me.

l was so afraid he'd ask to come in, we'd have sex and it'd be disappointing, that my heart was racing as l stood, leaning against the front door. It takes a hell of a relationship to survive bad sex on the first date, and even though l felt confident in my feelings, l wasn't so sure about how Cory felt.

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I needn't have worried about coming off as bitchy it seemed, as Cory couldn't have done more than driven home before he texted me.

"Thanks for an amazing date. I'd love to see you again sometime soon," the message said, and l lay down on my bed, grinning from ear to ear, rereading the message a couple of times, before telling him that l felt the same way.

We set another date for the next day, as it seemed neither of us wanted to wait any longer than necessary. Again we met for a coffee, this time we also took a stroll in a park nearby to where l live, and again the date ended with a kiss and Cory's hand on my breast. Again l cursed my shyness afterwards as l leaned against the front door, my heart pounding. Again, l needn't have worried, as Cory had the patience of an angel, and again didn't push for things to go further, again texting me when he got home.

The third date happened a few days later, l think it was a wednesday, and with my parents out of town, l invited Cory in after the date this time.

I was so nervous, l thought my knees would buckle, as l pulled him along through the house and to my bedroom. When we got there, l tore my dress up over my head, and turned to look at Cory, who just looked at me in amazement.

I could see a bulge forming in his pants, letting me know his look wasn't one of disgust.

He started to walk closer, tearing off his clothes as he came towards me. This was it. I was finally going to have real sex, with a guy l really liked. Maybe he'd even fuck me so hard, that l'd forget how terrified l was.

I lay down on the bed on my back, a part of me hoping he'd tell me to get on my hands and knees, but l was too afraid to look away from him to do it on my own. Cory pulled down his pants and his boxers, and revealed a hard cock. I'd guess it was about average in size, but in my mind it was huge and terrifying. I wasn't going to back out now though. If it hurt, l'd fight through the pain. Maybe the pain would even be a pleasure in itself?

In hindsight, a part of me wishes Cory had fucked my brains out, and maybe things would have gone differently. I don't think he has it in him though, and l don't mean that in a negative sense. He might not have fucked me, but we made love, and it felt good. He didn't ask to fuck me from behind, instead laying down between my spread legs, and slowly inserting himself inside me. The look in Cory's eyes when he came inside me was really beautiful, and it hadn't hurt one bit. I'm ashamed to admit that l was a little disappointed, but l thought he'd might grow some confidence as our relationship progressed, and maybe some day, he'd even fuck me as hard as that dark, depraved part of my mind secretly wished. With a guy like Cory, I might finally let go of my neurotic fear of fucking.

After that afternoon Cory and l were an item, and from then on, we met as often as our schedules allowed us to. We made love as often as we could get away with, and Cory said he enjoyed the look in my eyes when he came inside me, and the missionary position just, kinda, became our thing. I had fewer orgasms, but the post-sex cuddling made up for it. Strangely though, Cory would even prefer cuddling, to a blowjob. I thought all straight men loved to have their cocks sucked, but l was clearly wrong.

My "dissertation-box" lay unused in the back of my closet, as l slowly got used to the idea that this was what sex was really like. Maybe the raw fucking and grunting l had heard about was something that only existed in porn and people's fantasies.

Cory made me feel loved and safe when we made love, and he had at least made me feel safe about making love. I hated myself for thinking those thoughts, but a part of me wondered if l was settling for safe and cuddly. Was this really all there was?

Sometimes though, much like the small pebble that starts an avalanche, an unexpected nudge can change your life entirely.

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THE PEBBLE

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That summer was pretty amazing, and l even started to get along with Cory's friends. They say every romantic relationship has a number of obstacles to overcome. The first date, having sex for the first time, meeting the guy's friends. I'd say me and Cory had passed those obstacles pretty smoothly.

There was one obstacle though that had been brewing in my mind for a while as June and July came and went. Meeting Cory's parents.

Cory had been talking a lot about his dad, and about working the family business, but he rarely and almost reluctantly talked about his mother. I knew his parents were still married, so l knew she was still in the picture, but Cory never seemed to want to tell me much about her. This scared me a little, as l had no idea about what kind of relationship Cory and his mother had.

For all you male readers, you know how meeting your girlfriend's father for the first time can be scary? Especially if he starts of with that stereotypical "you're the one fucking my daughter?"

For a girl, meeting your boyfriend's mother can be just as scary. Mothers just scare girlfriends in other ways. I suppose that has something to do with the relationship between a mother and her son, but that's a discussion for another time.

Which is why l got terrified one Tuesday afternoon when Cory texted that his parents had invited us for dinner that Friday. I must have re-read the message five times before l replied that l'd love to finally meet his folks.

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Friday afternoon. I was going to meet Cory's parents, and l stood in front of the full length mirror in my room having a bit of a nervous breakdown.

I had showered, put on lotion, and changed my bra and panties three times. I then put on a red full length dress, and inspected it in the mirror.

"Nope. Too slutty," l said out loud to myself when l saw that the cleavage did very little to hide my bra. It worked wonders to get past bouncers when l went clubbing, but for meeting a presumptive mother-in-law, it was a definite no.

I changed into another dress, and again dismissed it as too slutty. It took another few tries, and another few sighs of disappointment before l found a dress l'd feel comfortable wearing. I did curse my wardrobe for not having enough meeting-future-in-laws and myself for not taking the time to buy a new dress. The dress was a strapped olive green piece that showed a little too much cleavage, but my only other option would be to wear a skirt and t-shirt, and that felt like a no-no. So cleavage it was.

When Cory came to pick me up, he looked at my cleavage, as he always did, but this time l sensed reproach in his eyes. Since l wasn't entirely happy with showing the Johnson's all of my "assets", l blushed and didn't confront him about his disapproving look.

Eventually we arrived, and Cory knocked on the door. I was just about to make a quip about him knocking on the door to his own house, when the door opened, Eric and Amanda Johnson both coming to meet us at the door.

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I didn't really know what to expect before l saw them, but l had imagined Eric Johnson as a stereotypical bear of a man. You know the type you think of when you hear the reference, construction contractor, and he didn't disappoint. Eric even came with a full beard and all, and compared to my smaller stature, he was huge, easily 6'4, and l'd guess somewhere around 220 pounds. He wore blue jeans and a black shirt. I immediately guessed that he got to pick the pants, and his wife had picked out the shirt. A part of me wondered if he was going to start dancing and singing that old "l am a lumberjack"-song that the Monty Python group made all those years ago.

Amanda Johnson though, was absolutely breathtaking. She was somewhere around 5'8 - 5'10, her long brown hair flowed down over her neck and down to her impressive breasts. I needn't have worried that my dress would come off as too slutty, as Amanda wore the exact same olive green dress. Her skin tone was a little darker than the rest of us, but it merely served to give her a smouldering look. I was slightly taken aback by her intense beauty, but her and Eric's smiles diffused my nervousness somewhat.

"Mom. Dad. This is Anna," Cory said, reminding me that he was there as well. For a second l had been to smitten by Amanda's beauty that l actually forgot he was standing beside me.

"It's really nice to meet you, mister and missis Johnson," l managed to say, and held out my hand.

"Likewise, Anna. We're glad to finally meet you. And please, it's Eric and Amanda," Eric said and shook my hand, and there was a warmth and kindness to his voice. When he let go, Amanda ignored my hand and instead came in close to give me a hug.

"Welcome to our home, sweet Anna," Amanda said, her voice strangely soft, almost like honey. Her touch was almost electrifying and for a split second it felt like her nipples were pressed against mine. I swallowed hard and mumbled something about finally getting to meet them.

If l had been a guy, l would most likely have told you something along the lines that Amanda was a total milf, but to me she looked more like a greek or italian goddess. I know it might sound like l'm gushing here, but l was completely taken aback by her, as she led me inside.

"Why don't us boys watch the game, and let the women get to know each other, huh?" Eric said, wrapping his arm around Cory. For a split second, it almost seemed like Cory was about to object, but then he readily agreed. I'm not that into sports, but at the same time, l always dread talking to a boyfriend's mom for the first time. There are always a thousand questions they want you to answer. Are you pregnant? What are your plans for the future? You know the drill.

"Come Anna. We can talk in the kitchen, while l finish making dinner," Amanda said, and l followed her nervously into the kitchen. When we got there, she handed me a glass of white wine.

"Relax, my dear. I'm not going to interrogate you," she said softly, and l relaxed somewhat as she grabbed her own glass of wine, and held it up in a toast. "To meeting new friends," she added with a smile, and l couldn't stop smiling back as l reciprocated her toast. Amanda had a way of making you feel instantly welcome.

"Is there anything l can help you do with the dinner?" I asked, placing my wine glass on the kitchen counter.

"You really are a sweetheart," Amanda replied, and reached up, stroking my cheek for a moment. "If you wouldn't mind, yo u could cut up those cucumbers, and put them in the salad bowl," she continued, pointing to some cucumbers on the kitchen table.

"I'd be happy to," l replied, and set about cutting the vegetables, a part of me happy to turn away from Amanda, as l couldn't stop blushing after her gentle touch.

Amanda and l chatted away as we got dinner ready, and it felt more like meeting a new friend, an equal, than a boyfriend's mother. I quickly cut up the cucumbers, and got busy hacking apart some tomatoes.

"Soo... I'm guessing Cory has been as secretive about me, as he has been about you?" Amanda asked eventually.

"Now that you mention it, yeah," l said, turning my head to see the same look of puzzled amusement on Amanda's face as l'm sure she could see in mine. "I always wondered about that," l said.

"l think l know the reason why my boy is so shy to tell you about me," Amanda said, and walked up behind me, gently placing her soft hands on my shoulders. "How are those tomatoes coming along?"

"They're just about done," l replied, and l could feel Amanda's body close behind me, not pressing against me, but still close enough that l felt her breasts against my back. Something felt strange though. There was also something poking against my lower back. I recognized that was the sensation l usually experienced, when l was standing really close to a man, but Amanda was a woman, which is why it felt out of place.