Ask Professor Lovejoy!

It was a sad couple visiting Dr.Malchamus at the Neuropsychiatric Penile Institute.

"It's just no fun making love to him" Anastasia said. "I am so sick of his premature ejaculations."

Moby looked pained. How could this doctor cure what had been a lifelong problem?

He was a wealthy sculptor from a famous literary family (he'd been named for a character in some Herman Melville novel) and was known around the world.

His pieces sold for thousands...

But he couldn't keep from having these damn "accidents".

**************

"Okay, are you ready, Mr.Gowers?" Professor Lovejoy smiled up at Moby, here adorable tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

Look at her kneeling at my feet, like she's about to blow me.

Moby gulped and nodded assent. Professor Lovejoy looked great in her little white body stocking.

Yes, just enough mesh to obscure her nipples and her crotch area, but not much else.

The Tease Therapist hooked a thumb in her plunging neckline and pulled it out and waved her nipples at Moby, and giggled.

Now, Professor Lovejoy ran her long French manicure up and down Moby's cock.

He was naked of course, standing in front of her (barely) as she came up from her knees and sat on her little couch.

She'd done all she could to make him really feverish.

Professor Lovejoy had undone her bottom button and sat on Moby's face and let him bring her to an intense orgasm.

And then she'd given Moby a massage, from his shoulders to his ankles, just bypassing his cock.

And now the big test was happening!

He felt his therapist drumming the edge of his bulging organ, and oh God, it felt so good.

Moby's wife had always been so nasty, so critical of Moby's inability to keep from having these embarrassing "puddles".

These messes occured sometimes in his pants, often in public!

It had been a problem when he was in graduate school as well.

Some of the arty girls would tease poor Moby, just twitching their asses at him, showing him what he couldn't get.

And all of a sudden, he'd have wet his pants, and stand in shame as they either laughed or backed away in disgust and horror.

Professor Lovejoy stroked the tip of her client's penis and then played with the delicate underside.

Oh, right under the head, which always made Moby a little wild.

Anastasia was a lovely girl, but not terribly imaginative in the bedroom. Of course if that was true, then why was he having these excited, premature ejaculations?

Professor Lovejoy leaned close and poked out her tongue and licked Moby's urethra.

Then she moved her head in and took Moby's glans in her mouth and licked it all over, like a Jiffy Pop lollipop, before releasing it with a pop.

Looking away, she refreshed her full lips with a fuchsia tube.

Now, Professor Lovejoy looked up at Moby with a full-lipped smile. Tossing a permed honey blonde curl she said," Okay, are you getting close?"

"N-not quite yet." Moby said, struggling to hold it together.

Professor Lovejoy leaned closer from her sitting position, rubbing the mounds of her cleavage, so soft, against his bulging member.

"I know you're scared, Moby." Professor Lovejoy said, reassuringly. She paused to squirt a little lube into her palm, and resumed her ministrations on his stiffening cock.

Moby closed his eyes and breathed in Professor Lovejoy's scent. She was the sexiest woman alive, he thought.

"But being a preemie is a bad thing, you know." Professor Lovejoy clucked, rubbing a little faster.

Moby lowered his face in humiliation.

"You have such a tiny little penis, it should behave itself, don't you think? It can't really make it up by fucking hard, so it really should hold off from squirting early."

Moby was almost crying from shame, but he was intensely horny now.

Suddenly, Professor Lovejoy stood up, startling Moby, who opened his eyes.

Professor Lovejoy put her arms tenderly around Moby's neck. In her heels, she was slightly taller than he was.

"How do you feel now, Moby?" Professor Lovejoy leaned in and kissed Moby's neck. She rubbed the scratchy crotch area of her body stocking against his tumescent penis, and Moby felt the familiar boiling from his swollen scrotum.

Unconsciously, Moby began pushing his penis against Professor Lovejoy's crotch, and she rubbed back, pushing and giving him a full mouth kiss, and doing total tonsil hockey.

She was quite a therapist!

"Now," Professor Lovejoy murmured, "Hold back. Remember, you can't have an accident. You have to hold off. You have to be master of your domain."

"Oh, I'm about to cum, I'm so sorry..."

Just then, Professor Lovejoy jumped away from Moby's cock, looking disparagingly down at the precum dripping out. She bent back to the couch and picked up a short black object, that sizzled from the tip.

BZZZZZZT! As she touched the electric wand to Moby's penis he felt a shock and a burning, and his penis wilted.

Moby screamed, but at the same time he was aroused by the punishment...

Then Professor Lovejoy backed away more and slapped Moby's face, hard, and then smiled and gave him a kiss.

Moby felt confused.

"Now you see? You didn't cum." Professor Lovejoy kissed Moby again." We are going to break you of being a premature ejaculator just in time for your wedding."

Moby smiled in simple gratitude.

Now, his therapist began rubbing and tickling Moby's dick again, and kissing his neck again. "Now let's see if you can hold it together for the real thing..."

Moby watched as the professor stepped out of her lingerie. Now she was fully naked and glorious! She let Moby by the hand to her little waterbed in the corner.

She motioned Moby to lie on the waterbed. She climbed on the bed with him.

"You can kiss and suck my titties if you want to, Mr. Gower."

Moby began kissing and going mad. This wasn't infidelity, it was THERAPY.

Lovejoy climbed on Moby's straining cock and began sliding up and down his cock, squeezing her vagina, tightening it around his member.

Moby began trying to push his dick into her, and now felt himself pushing against the therapist, and...

"Don't cum, Mr. Gower."

"I'm trying not to..."

"Do you want me to use the wand again?"

"N-no ma'am."

At the Neuropsychiatric Penile Institute, they have a perfect success rate!

In their fourth session, Moby was getting nervous at Professor Lovejoy's methodology. It was true, however, that the wedding was approaching and he had not made a good deal of progress.

Moby still couldn't stop his unpredictable, inadvertent orgasms.

It seemed this time that Professor Lovejoy was going a little far.

"It doesn't really hurt that much, does it Moby?" Professor Lovejoy asked, giggling.

Sticking needles in my cock like its a pincushion does indeed hurt!

Moby's cock was inexplicably rock hard at this treatment, but he really worried it might be damaging.

"Oh no." Professor Lovejoy had said when she'd brought forth her sewing box. "I have clients who endure sounding, which involves sticking stuff in your pee-hole. And your urethra is far more sensitive than the penis, itself."

Moby was tempted to ask Professor Lovejoy what her medical training was, but decided to hold his tongue, at least for now. After all, she might stick a needle in it!

In addition to sticking needles all over Moby's glans, Professor Lovejoy distributed clothespins, the old fashioned wooden kind, on Moby's stomach and up and down his chest, and of course on his sensitive nipples.

Professor Lovejoy ordered Moby to hold his arms out and lined clothespins up and along the sensitive inner area to the point that Moby had to keep holding his arms out, as it would have hurt to put them by his side.

Professor Lovejoy also put clothespins on Moby's earlobes and along his neck, and one on his nose.

"C-could you just take the pins out, please?"

Giggling, Professor Lovejoy pulled the needles out slowly, but replaced them with more hard wooden clothespins. His cock didn't flag, though, and as he watched her breasts sway as she laughed more, his unfortunate pee-pee ballooned.

Professor Lovejoy put two folding chairs in front of Moby, and asked him to step up on them, one foot on each chair. "Balance yourself, now, cutie." Professor Lovejoy then placed clothespins on Moby's inner thighs.

She had butted out a cigarette on his right inner thigh the week before, just to "introduce you to adversity" and it had been quite an experience.

Professor Lovejoy stepped back for a moment and smiled. She was wearing a tube top and very skimpy shorts, and fishnet stockings with the shorts.

"See, Moby, your fiancée hired me to curb your pre-mature ejaculations and what I want to do is get you to the point that you can be aroused by a woman-"

Here Professor Lovejoy jiggled her tits at him. "But still have enough distraction that you don't get too excited and have an unauthorized release."

What the fuck's that mean, unauthorized? Moby thought, infuriated. He was just supposed to try to curb his premature ejaculation issue, but as a free American he could do anything he damn well pleased, sexually, couldn't he?

As Professor Lovejoy placed the rest of the clothespins (it seemed that she had about a thousand) on Moby's buttocks and the backs of his thighs, she chuckled.

"What's funny, Professor Lovejoy?" Moby asked, a bit irritated. (If he moved his head, his earlobes hurt considerably)

Also, it was incredibly exhausting to have these legs on two separate chairs, although it did make it easier to get the damn clothespins on, he figured.

To think I'm paying $600 a session for this! It wasn't covered in his um, plan.

"Why am I laughing? You are so cute when you talk with your nose blocked by the clothespins, Moby. You sound like a female switchboard operator from like, the fifties."

"Thanks so much for that, Professor Lovejoy."

"I should Instagram this and then your fiancée and your um, Rotarian pals or whoever can see this. You have never looked more interesting with all that wood sticking out of you."

She stepped back, grinning, and quite satisfied with her work. Professor Lovejoy lit a cigarette, and smoked a bit, as Moby continued to stand uncomfortably on the chairs, the pins searing his skin.

Snorting, Professor Lovejoy flicked a couple of sparks from her butt at Moby, but he tried desperately to stand still.

Two sessions before, she'd flicked wooden kitchen matches, the kind you light by striking them against your ass, at his cock, and it had been a teaching moment, of sorts.

Professor Lovejoy put finger on her chin. "If I had my surgical gloves, I would put some chili powder up your ass, but my doctor piggie didn't bring any by this week."

Thanks for small miracles, Moby thought silently.

"My doctor piggie can stand up there with the clothespins AND the needles, while holding old Bell telephone books. He's got it going on, Baldwin does."

Wait, is this a competition?

There was a knock on the door of Professor Lovejoy's suite, and it opened, and a rather rough looking muscled chap with a crew cut and leather vest came in.

Moby's eyes bugged out. What the hell was this?

"This is Cousin Michealmas, Moby." Professor Lovejoy explained gaily. "He's going to help me with your distraction problem. Cousin Michealmas, the quirt is over there."

Cousin Michealmas sneered, and went to the end table and picked up a short whip, about two feet long.

It was probably used to drive cattle or something, Moby thought.

This was a new an unfamiliar sight to Moby's urbane eye, the quirt, but the man holding it was a little more disturbing.

So far, the sessions, though somewhat painful, had been quite arousing, and Professor Lovejoy was, to Moby, hot stuff.

But Moby wasn't gay, and didn't appreciate...

"So Cousin Michealmas is going to help me out here, and he may be useful later on." Professor Lovejoy said with a smile.

"Your fiancée says that you are still having problems with the preemie stuff, making nasty wetties all the time, even if you just see a passing secretary, so she is getting less attracted to you."

Cousin Michealmas began laughing deep in his tattooed chest.

"So Cousin Michealmas can fill in for Anastasia on your wedding night, but he is a little bi, so he'll need a slave boy to help, you know, get him ready to fuck by doing a little mouth action."

"They call it being a fluffer" Cousin Michealmas explained helpfully. "You know, in porn."

Moby gasped.

But he felt his cock hardening, and as his glans swelled, Professor Lovejoy began speaking again.

"Now, I'm going to strip slowly, and then rub my body with olive oil, you'll like that"

Moby nodded, though it was painful with the clothespins on his ears.

"And as I dance, Cousin Michealmas will knock the clothespins off with the quirt, one at a time, and we'll see how you focus, and you get points for not falling off the chair."

But how does that assist me in my wedding night?

But then Cousin Michealmas began to approach with the quirt and Professor Lovejoy started pulling off her tube top, and Moby forgot time and space.