Christy, the Sex Therapist Pt. 17

April and Christy nodded in agreement. "If that's the case, I'm getting another beer," declared April. "Want one, Marcus?"

"Yeah, thanks, Apes ... and a glass of white wine for Christy?" he countered.

"Done," she said, as she stood up and manoeuvred her way to the bar.

As they continued talking, April became increasingly jealous of the situation Marcus had landed in. "So after Tuesday, you won't need to set an alarm in the morning?" she asked him.

"Nup."

"And you won't have to go to pointless, soul-destroying meetings, and pretend you're interested in what your colleagues are talking about?"

"Nup."

"And you'll be able to work whenever you want, for as long as you want?"

"Yep, though I'm not thinking about writing as work."

"Fuck, I'm so jealous of you!" said April, but she was also full of joy for him. She gave him a big hug.

"I'm trying to not get too excited. I mean, it might not work out. It's a risk. What happens if I spend months writing something that sucks? What happens if I write something that *I* really like, but nobody else does?" He paused. "This is a big deal for me, and it's the kind of opportunity many people don't get. I'm very mindful of that, but it's also up to me to somehow make it work. What if I'm not good enough, and then I have to try to find another job?"

"If you go into it with *that* attitude, you're guaranteed to fail. So don't! You've got ideas. Some of them suck, but everyone comes up with stuff that sucks. Concentrate on the ones that are really good. You and I have talked some of them through. And if you get stuck, just go for a walk or a run or a skate. Fresh air is always a good idea. And you can always call me to talk about stuff."

"You're awesome, Apes," he said. "Thank you."

Christy's heart swelled. She wondered what kind of future Apes and her boi might've had if he didn't come into her own life. Sliding doors.

And speaking of doors, the bathroom door swung open, and a somewhat dishevelled Milo emerged. Pants on, and presumably boxers on underneath, though surely his cock was enveloped in a damp, squelchy mess. The crotch of his pants didn't look much better coming out of the bathroom than they looked going in.

He sat down. "Before you say anything, shut the fuck up."

"Where's the plate?" giggled April.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Marcus explained. "You took a plate into the bathroom with you."

"Yeah. You were using it to hide your shame," April laughed.

"Fuck the plate. I'm so embarrassed," admitted Milo.

"Imagine what the cleaners are gonna think when they find a fucking plate in the bathroom," teased April.

Christy smirked devilishly. "This has been a fun night, but Milo still looks like a fucking mess." She addressed him. "You look like you had a fight with a moving bus. Come back to my place so I can clean you up."

*

The sun had set by now, and darkness had descended. Christy led her skater friends out onto the street to the spot where she'd summoned an uber to collect them. The car arrived, and for the first 5 minutes or so, they rode in relative silence. The driver was listening to a Christian FM radio station, which meant the ears of his passengers were accosted by soulless country and softrock music accompanied by lyrics about people worshipping some dead guy. Milo already knew what he wanted to worship right now: Christy's perfect cunt.

Christy sat in the front seat of the car. The other three had piled into the back seat.

"What are we listening to?" Christy asked the driver, knowing full well what it was, but using her question as a way to start a conversation with him.

"Umm, it's GOD-FM. An internet radio station. Do you want me to turn it off or put something else on?" he replied.

"No, no, it's fine. I was just curious," she said.

A moment passed. The current song ended, and the announcer introduced the next track with a biblical quote.

"You like the bible?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," replied the driver. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I've read bits and pieces of it, but I've never read the whole thing," said Christy.

"Oh, I can strongly recommend it to you," enthused the driver. "It'll change your life."

"My life is really good right now, and I'm not sure I want it to change. But thanks for the suggestion. I'll keep it in mind."

The driver clearly wanted to continue talking about the bible, but he was polite enough to let his passenger steer the conversation. The other three were quiet as mice in the back seat.

Christy glanced across at the driver. He'd clearly spent some quality time working out, building upper body strength. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that showed off his biceps. "Hey, so I hope you don't mind me saying, but you've got really nice arms."

The driver was taken aback. "Errr, sure, yeah, that's nice of you to say."

"No problem," said Christy. "I'm assuming you work out?"

"Uh, yeah, from time to time. I don't drive full-time, I have a day job which requires a lot of heavy lifting, but I've got a few weights in my garage which I use to help keep me in shape."

"Mmmmmm. That sounds hot." A pause. "I bet you get all nice and sweaty while you're pounding those weights?"

GOD-FM kept soft-rocking.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose that's true," he replied nervously. He changed the subject. "What do you do for a living?"

"Me? Oh, I'm a sex therapist."

Deathly silence from the driver. Absolutely no response.

Christy pushed forward. "So this might sound weird," she said, "but can I feel your muscles?"

The driver glanced across at Christy. "Uhhhh ... sure ... if you want to."

Christy reached across to squeeze the driver's nearest arm, and at her touch, he nearly crashed the car.

She glanced down at his crotch. A bulge was forming. He was clearly aroused ... and by the looks of it, he was quite big.

"You liked that?" she teased.

He nodded silently, eyes on the road. He glanced across to his passenger. She noticed, and as he looked in her direction, she suggestively licked her juicy lips.

"I can see another muscle in your pants. Looks like it might be growing."

The driver was becoming flustered and anxious. "What do you mean?"

Christy's lowered her voice and leaned across seductively. "I'm talking about your cock," she whispered. She reached across to squeeze the driver's bicep again, and she noticed his cock straining in his pants.

"Ummmm ... I'm married, ma'am ... and I don't know your name," he stammered.

"My name's Christy. And yours is?"

The driver's breath was ragged. It was taking all of his focus and concentration right now to keep the car on the road.

"My ... my name is Noah, and it's very nice to meet you," said the driver. Christy offered her hand, and Noah took one hand off the steering wheel to shake it. "Nice ... umm ... it's very nice to meet you too, Christy." He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"You have a lovely biblical name, Noah. I think it suits you. But I must apologise; have I made you feel nervous? I really didn't mean to," she cooed.

"Ummmmm ... well ..."

"You don't need to feel nervous around me," she continued. "Besides, with those muscles, I bet you get more than your fair share of pussy."

GOD-FM continued in the background.

"Well, no, actually. Like I said a second ago, I'm married. I got married to my childhood sweetheart."

"That's so sweet!" she replied. "How long have you been married?"

"Ten happy years, ma'am."

"Ten years! That's a long time -- congratulations for being so committed to each other for so long! But hey, can I ask, after all those years, does she still put out?"

Noah glanced across at Christy. "Does she ... put ... out?" He wasn't sure if he'd ever come across that term before.

"I mean, do you two still have sex?"

Marcus, Milesy and Apes eagerly listened in from the back seat. Noah felt incredibly uncomfortable, and they sensed him squirming. "Well ... yes, we occasionally engage in ... umm ... intercourse, but because of our religious beliefs, contraception is a problem. We don't want any more children, so intercourse is a rare occurrence because the potential consequences are difficult. We've already got enough mouths to feed, that's part of the reason why I'm driving rideshares on a Friday night. You know, to earn some extra income."

"Oh, I totally understand about contraception being an issue for some people. But you're telling me you've never thought to fuck your wife in the ass? It's a 100% effective way to avoid pregnancy."

Noah was shocked. "Sodomy is a sin," he whispered. "That's the devil's path."

'This poor guy will never know the pleasure,' she thought to herself. "OK, then what about blowjobs? Mouths don't get pregnant either," pressed Christy.

"You're talking about oral pleasure? But ... but this represents a waste of seed!"

They were approaching Christy's house, and she knew she needed to wrap this conversation up.

"Don't you ever masturbate? Does your thick cock get a workout in your garage once you're done with your weights? Isn't that also a waste of seed?" As far as she could tell, his sessions lifting weights in the garage were probably a response to sexual frustration.

Noah glanced in his rear vision mirror and saw three very attentive faces, hanging on every word. "I'm not comfortable answering that question right now. If it's OK with you, can we stop talking please? We're almost at your destination."

There was an awkward, uncomfortable silence as Noah expertly guided his vehicle into the opening of Christy's wide, welcoming avenue. There'd been a smattering of rain, and the entrance to her street was a little moist.

Noah pulled up adjacent to the kerb outside her house.

"Thanks for the ride," chirped Marcus from the back seat. He, April and Milo piled out of the car. Milo's pants were still wet.

"Go on in," suggested Christy. "I'll be inside in a minute."

They walked towards the house.

"She's totally gonna suck him off," declared April as they approached the front door.

"No doubt about it," responded Milo. "But imagine if she manages to get his dick in her ass? Woah!"

"Fuck, that'd be so hot, especially after all that religious bullshit he was spouting," said Marcus.

Marcus turned the key to the front door and they disappeared inside, laughing at the lame lyrics to the terrible songs on GOD-FM that they'd been forced to endure.

Christy was still sitting on the passenger seat, like at an awkward ending of an awkward date. The silence was deafening. "Thanks for the ride, Noah. Again, I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean to," she pouted.

"That's OK, Christy," replied Noah. "It was a pleasure being able to drive you home."

Christy smiled, resting a heavy hand on his thigh. "I'd love for you and your sexy muscles to drive me home one day, but I know you're married and therefore unavailable. So how about I give you a thank-you blowjob instead of a tip?" She dropped her hand into Noah's lap and his cock twitched. She leaned into him. "I know you want it," she breathed.

His walls of godly resistance began to weaken and crumble, and then shattered completely, exploding from the inside. "Yes," he hissed.

She fished his cock out of his pants, and as she suspected, it was sizeable. "I bet your wife loves feeling you inside her," she whispered. She spat on her hand and stroked his dick a few times before leaning across and putting it into her mouth.

"Oh my," gasped Noah as his eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh, sweet Jesus."

Christy took his cock out of her mouth for a second. "Don't take the lord's name in vain, you'll go to hell," she joked.

'I'm already going to hell for this,' Noah thought to himself as she licked his tip and then sucked his wet cock back into her mouth.

She teased him, going as slow as she possibly could. "Your wife doesn't do this to you, does she?" teased Christy. She raked her wet tongue across the head of his cock again.

Noah shook his head. He was momentarily incapable of speech.

"Did she ever?"

He forced the words out. "Once ... when we were dating ... before we got married, she ... gave me ... oral pleasure," he admitted. He was struggling to breathe. This moment was an experience that was almost completely unknown to him.

"So you haven't had a blowjob in more than ten years?"

He shook his head again. "No, ma'am."

She continued her glacial pace, her fist languidly stroking his length while she kissed the head of his dick. As she reached down to tenderly cup his full, heavy balls, the angels sang and the heavens opened. 'I'm about to give you my holy seed, and I don't even know you,' he thought to himself. 'This is a massive sin,' he told himself, as his huge, pent-up load accumulated and prepared to fire.

He was way past the point of no return. As his dick went off like a firehose in her mouth, Christy wondered how long it'd been since he'd last ejaculated. Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? "I'm going to hell, I'm going to hell," he repeated aloud as Christy swallowed his huge, thick load.

Christy finished him off, cleaned him up, and sat upright in the passenger seat. "Who said anything about going to hell? I mean, it was just a blowjob. No harm done to anyone." She paused to give him some time. "Was it good?" He nodded meekly, because that was the only response available to him right now, her expert mouth had rendered him incapable of meaningful speech or thought. She continued. "Anyway, from my perspective, heaven and hell are just concepts that people have invented through history to control the way other people think, so to me, they don't exist at all. I know you don't agree, and that's cool. But if I'm wrong, and if hell really exists, I'd like to think that's where dictators and murderers go, not a dude who just got a random blowjob from a stranger in his car. If your god put you on this earth to enjoy pleasurable experiences, almost nothing beats a good blowjob. Anyway, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure there's nothing in the bible that says getting head is a sin. And since you're never gonna boink your wife in the ass -- and trust me, you don't know what you're missing there, and neither does she -- maybe ask her to suck you off once in a while? She won't be as good as me, but even a bad blowjob is a good blowjob. And you won't get her pregnant, either."

Noah knew the concept of temptation as a situation in which a person had a free choice of being faithful or unfaithful, and in his heart, for the very first time, he knew he'd been tempted. "Thank you for your advice, Christy," said Noah. He was still catching his breath, and he wasn't at all sure what to think, do, or say. All he needed right now was for this satanic temptress to get out of his car.

"Thank you for the ride, Noah. I hope to see you again." She exited the car, and he drove away into the darkness, listening to his Christian rock, into a troubled psychological future.

He gave her five stars on the app.

*

She went inside to find Milo, April and her boi in, of all places in the house, the laundry. Marcus was adding laundry detergent to the washing machine as she entered. He started the machine, its only contents being Milo's pants and boxers.

"Good conversation in the car?" asked her boi.

"Yeah, I guess it was," she responded.

"What did you do to him?" asked April. "We all know you violated him somehow. What'd you do?"

"Sucked him off," she replied.

April looked at Marcus and Milesy. "Ha! I fucking told you she would!"

"Let's clean Milo up," said Christy. She noticed he was naked from the waist down, a by-product of his pants being in the wash. "I'm in the mood to suck some more cock."

Milo boned up at her words. She sank to her knees on the laundry tiles, sucking on his balls and stroking his growing shaft. She put his dick in her mouth and Milo moaned in pleasure. She locked eyes with Milo as he stood above her. She sucked hard as she flicked her tongue up and down his shaft and teased his head. She played with his asshole, pulling his cheeks apart and teasing the opening of his anus with a fingernail as she sucked him hands-free. But it was the dirty talk that pushed Milo over the edge. "Give me your fucking cum. I want it so fucking bad. Fuck my mouth. I want you to drown me in your sticky semen. I want to taste you. Cum all over my face." Milo had heard these phrases so many times watching porn that they were now deeply-embedded triggers. Christy stroked his shaft as her tongue teased the tip of his cock. Milo felt his load building up, and as he looked down at his buddy's girlfriend on her knees and he felt her expert mouth on his dick, he roared, and shot the contents of his balls all over her face and hair.

"That's to apologise for making you cum in your pants tonight," she said, standing up. "I'm really sorry about that."

"No, you aren't," Milo challenged. In response, she flashed that devilish smile, the smile that always got him hard; those sexy, fat lips that had just made him explode again. He'd absolutely covered her in cum.

The washing machine beeped; Milo's boxers and pants were damp, but clean.

"You guys can stay here again tonight if you want to," she said, wiping her face before extracting Milo's clothes from the machine. "Actually, Milesy, I don't think you've got much choice. You've got no pants."

*

Christy showered and prepared for bed. She was looking forward to a solid night's sleep tonight, but as she approached the bed, she noticed something was different. Something had changed. Something was unusual.

She called out to Marcus. "Hey, boi, come in here for a second?"

"Wait a sec," he replied. He'd just come back inside after ripping a bedtime cone in the backyard. He sauntered towards the bedroom. "What's up, Miss Christy?"

"Look at the bed."

Marcus was puzzled. "I'm looking at it."

Miss Christy stood with hands on hips. "Notice anything different?"

"I don't think so, Miss Christy."

She pulled the topsheet back. Part of the mattress had sunken in. It was like a crater had appeared on Miss Christy's side of the bed, right in the middle.

"What's that, boi?"

"Umm, I don't know. But it doesn't look normal, does it?"

"No, boi, it fucking doesn't."

They looked at each other. Marcus tried to find an explanation through his haze of weed. "Has anyone else been in here lately? I mean, that you know of?" He shuffled his feet. "I mean, if anyone had been in here that you didn't know of, I'd understand why you didn't know, so I need to clarify that I'm only asking about the ... umm ... the subset of all possible people who exist who might've been in here lately that you ... actually know of."

She knew he was baked, and she ignored his bullshit. "I think you did this, boi."

Marcus was shocked. "Me? Why me? Why would I break our mattress?"

"You remember the other night?"

The penny dropped in slow-motion for Marcus. He'd slammed her so fucking hard that night.

Miss Christy continued. "I got up in the middle of the night after you pounded me, and I felt something go 'doink' under the mattress, but I didn't think anything of it. But now, I think it's broken. The springs are fucked. I think you broke it. My ass is going to go to sleep tonight in a depression of busted springs."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Christy. We can swap sides if you like? I mean, if I broke it, I should be the one who deals with it."

She appreciated his generosity, but she was very attached to her side of the bed. "Thank you, boi, that's a lovely gesture. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I'll tell you right now what we're doing tomorrow."

"Watching rugby on television?" asked Marcus.

"No, you fuckwit. We're going mattress shopping. It's about time we bought a new one. There's nothing wrong with the base, but the mattress is dead. You killed it."