Dr. Allen's New Patient Ch. 19

Story Info
Sally, Vincent, and Colin each have their own issues.
5.1k words
4.33
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Part 19 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 07/11/2018
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Sally had shown up for her job interview 25 minutes early. After signing in at the receptionist, she scanned the waiting room and chose a spot in a quiet corner to sit down and kill time. She settled in and fished her phone out of her purse, at once noticing a text from Sebastian. She had no intention of reading it, but the first line of the message was previewed before she could unlock her phone.

"It's not over between us... J'ai le coeur en flammes..."

Sally was instantly reminded of Sebastian's tendency for the poetic, if not the dramatic, owing to the fact he was an actor. She recalled their recent rendezvous, when he returned all the money he had "garnered" from their interactions. Sebastian had taken it for granted that this generous gesture would lure Sally back into his arms, that is, until she began suspecting he wanted her as a substitute for his mother. She slowly came to realize Sebastian had been fetishizing her, for she enabled him to simulate the desperate hope and feeling his beloved mother was still alive.

She disregarded the text and instead pulled up her emails. To her surprise, another prospective employer contacted her, this time an insurance firm that was interested in having her come in for an interview. She felt relieved, secure in the knowledge that if she bombed this morning, she'd at least have another employment option to consider.

Sally also received a message from an apartment manager, responding to her inquiry about a studio rental near Downtown. "Things are looking up," she thought, as she'd soon be able to ditch the boarding house and at last be allowed some well-needed and well-deserved privacy.

She put the phone away and decided to chill for the rest of the wait time. She would try to mentally gear up for the interview, taking slow deep breaths and instantly starting to feel more tranquil, if not lightheaded. Sally then looked up to observe her surroundings, scanning the room in front of her.

Throughout the ample space, polished tables were scattered about, no speck of dust on their shiny surfaces. On a big glass and marble table in the middle of the room, various magazines were spread out, and Sally noticed they were all high end, like "Town and Country" and "Tatler". Also, world travel, gourmet cuisine, and wine connoisseur publications, all current issues, had been laid out. Apparently, someone had taken the time to refresh them every month. Her mom and Nathalie would have been the types to buy such frivolous useless things, Sally remarked to herself.

On the waiting room's walls fashionable art pieces were expertly displayed in sleek chrome frames. The receptionist, too, was a sight of annoying perfection, a gorgeous blond who looked like a lingerie model, immaculately dressed in a designer dress suit.

In summary, everything in the room was done up to a modern decorator's standards. Instantly, BDSM and the similarly impeccable décor of his duplex snuck into Sally's thoughts. However, she just as quickly chased them out, for she needed a clear mind for when they called her in to interview.

As usual, however, Sally found it challenging to control the thoughts fleeting in and out of her cluttered mind. The logical side of her brain was always fighting it out with the stronger emotional side. And so, with extra minutes for her emotions to wander and run rampant, Sally recalled a crush from her university days.

"It's okay. I understand..." she said to the tall young man, as she looked down blankly at the floor. She had just been "diplomatically" yet definitely rejected by a nice, clean-cut, good-looking classmate she had been pining away for. Left feeling awkward and humiliated, she suddenly felt the urge to escape the situation, and so she ran out of the college library.

Back in her dorm room, she vowed, "Never go back to that library, you stupid girl. Don't force him to look at your unattractive face and body, as he'll just feel uncomfortable and guilty when he spots you again. Disappear from his life."

Sally then recalled a session with Dr. Allen as she was telling him about that hopeless university crush. "He'd never want me to suck his cock. I had to force myself not to do a thing to bother him again. It's because God wants things exactly like this, doctor."

Sally also remembered what she wanted to tell Dr. Allen after finding out Damian had abandoned her, "The next time I find myself attracted to a nice, handsome guy, I'll go straight to the dirty streets to suck a homeless man's throbbing cock. For some reason, a man in an alley looks at me with lust... he lets me know he'll welcome my mouth on his prick. My eyes will look so desperate to coax all the sperm out of him. I'll kneel down on the cold ground, look up into his eyes, and then feverishly suck, and suck to my heart's delight. I'll blow the poor bum fervently and voraciously, while I squeeze his balls to feel all his semen built up inside. His nuts will be dying to burst with all the teasing I'll be doing to them. And while I'm giving him the best head he's ever had, my pussy will heat up, get dripping wet, and be good and ready for his big stick."

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Sally felt the interview had gone well. The HR lady was welcoming, but at the same time forthcoming about what Sally's duties would be at their company. What's more, on her way out, Sally noticed a handsome young employee with nice eyes, in a wheelchair. Her eyes lit up instantly, and despite herself, she smiled sweetly at him. He smiled back in a friendly manner, and then resumed wheeling himself down the corridor, presumably towards the restroom.

At that point, Sally was hit with a warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach, "God damned! He's handsome as fuck, and disabled, too! This must be my day... I'm a lucky bitch today!" She squealed in delightful speculation, "It's obvious he doesn't have working use of his legs, but I wonder if the dude can still get a woody? I should Google this topic when I get a chance..."

She caught hold of her thoughts, closed her gaping mouth, and pushed the button to take the elevator down to the lobby.

Riding down, she thought, "I wouldn't mind working at that place actually..."

Before heading home, Sally stopped by her nearest Target store to pick up some necessities: cotton balls, swabs, gauzes, antiseptic, and Neosporin. Within a few minutes, she was browsing the store's wide aisles, remembering she was also running low on underwear, and pantyhose too, come to think of it.

When she got home, Sally pulled out her phone to make a couple of calls, one to the insurance firm about the clerical position, and another to the building manager about the studio apartment. After securing two important appointments, she finally allowed herself to lie down and rest a bit.

Forgetting she had woken up unusually early that morning for the interview, she ended up dozing off seconds after she laid her head on the pillow. Her body had apparently been overdue for a long afternoon nap.

When she finally awoke, it was nearly 6pm, and, as if she had just returned from a long day's work, she felt she needed a good wash.

Freshly out of the shower, Sally got back to her room and slipped out of her bathrobe. She looked in her underwear drawer for clean panties, and again was reminded that they had indeed been dwindling. "That's real strange," she thought, looking up in the air. However, before her mind was allowed to process possible explanations for it, she remembered needing to head down to the laundry room to wash her newly purchased underthings.

She hastily grabbed a pair of what remained in her underwear drawer, threw on an old T-shirt and shorts, and slipped on some sandals. She then tossed the unopened pack of underwear into her laundry basket, along with some dirty clothes scattered about her bedroom floor. With the basket in her arms, Sally sprinted down to the basement, anxious to wash and break in her recently bought panties as she would any new clothing item.

She figured no one would be washing at this hour, as most of her fellow boarders were either in the kitchen eating dinner, or not even home yet.

"Shit!" Sally cursed abruptly under her breath. She had run into her new housemate again. She couldn't even remember his name.

She automatically pivoted to turn back upstairs to avoid him, also keeping in mind she hadn't bothered putting on a bra, so her nipples were probably protruding shamelessly through her thin shirt.

"Hey, wait! I'm pretty much done here..." the young man called back, "they're all yours", he indicated gesturing at the machines.

"Oh ok," she responded reluctantly, pivoting back towards the room.

"Sure, no worries, baby", he stated in a cordial manner, as he finished rolling up some socks to place on top of his basket.

Colin remarked that this was the first time he had Sally "captive" i.e. in a room all to themselves, and not during the usual morning rush. He thought fast for pleasant things to chat about, as he was eager to make small talk with this mysterious and evasive housemate. He wanted to get a "feel" for her, so to speak, curious as hell why Vincent found talking about her so taboo.

The two were standing mere feet apart from each other at the folding counter, as Colin hadn't moved from where he was standing as Sally walked in and plunked her basket down. She tore open her new pack of briefs, and then began sorting her whites from her colors. Meanwhile, Colin stepped back as nonchalantly as he could to take a cursory glance at Sally's body.

He noticed that her exposed legs were sexy as fuck, as he now had extended view of them. He surveyed her naked feet, as she was sporting flip-flops that gave him a good gander at her exquisitely delicious toes. What's more, he suspected she wasn't wearing a bra, because her long wet hair had soaked through the back of her flimsy T-shirt; he could practically see right through it. "Shit, is that my dick giving its very own approval of Sally's appearance? Or maybe my cock is suddenly reminded of all the 'Wet T-Shirt Contests' I've taken part in before", he chuckled silently to himself.

From a side view, Colin noticed that Sally's pale face looked rather striking at the moment; that is, when it was starkly contrasted and framed by her dark wet hair.

And as if all that weren't enough, he pleasantly took in the inviting scent of Sally's body wash and shampoo.

Sally, however, blatantly aware of Colin looking her up and down, was getting irritated. She tried her damnedest to ignore the "bozo" ogling her at the present.

Still pretending he was rolling up his socks, Colin decided to break the ice. "So listen, me being new around these here parts," he pretended a country accent, "What's fun to do around here?"

"Not much", she answered dismissively over her shoulder, not bothering to look at him. She wasn't gonna take his bait.

He continued with persistence, "Are there any movie theaters nearby? What about bike paths, restaurants, and bars, where a guy could go and have a good time?"

"I have no idea", she muttered, thinking she should have indeed bolted upstairs when she spotted his sorry ass. She wondered if he was poor at taking cues, or just plain pushy, as it was obvious she wasn't interested in engaging.

He continued his pursuit. "Well, I could use a good knowledgeable tour guide", he suggested casually, "If you like the idea, maybe one of these days, you and me could go out to explore the area together. And perhaps we could stop someplace to enjoy a picnic. I could pack us a nice lunch, with wine, cheese, and caviar, and we could spend a quiet afternoon under a shady tree. Would you like that?" Colin asked in his most charming, "sincere" voice. In his head however, was quite a different vision: Sally was up in his bedroom, her legs spread wide like a suspect being frisked. She was naked except for her feet, which sported clear platform stripper's pumps. Her face was pressed up against his bedroom window, and she was taking it from him quite compliantly, from behind.

In Sally's head, Colin's word choice, "shady", would have been more aptly used to describe his fake-ass come-on. Instantly, memories came gushing back from an interaction she had years ago with another shady type, a fellow college student whose name she couldn't recall. It was her first and only semester at the university, when a boy, who wasn't even her type, accosted her with his own brand of bravado bullshit. He fed her an ill-crafted lie, the promise of an exquisitely romantic evening. In her inexperienced and naïve mind those days, boundless fairy-tale fantasies ran the gamut of the perfect luxuriously scrumptious picnic, to a dazzling carriage ride in the country with Prince Charming. Nowadays, however, Sally knew better than to believe everything she heard. In fact, she was almost ready to snap.

"Which spot will you choose for our picnic?" she asked, testing him.

He hesitated, apparently caught off guard, "Uh, which spot? Mm, well I don't know. A nice spot, that's for sure. I was hoping you could help me with that, you being more familiar with this area."

She suspected he hadn't plans to pick out any such spot, "Do you have a picnic basket?"

"Uh, well, no, but I'll get one, no worries baby", he replied with ease, albeit unaccustomed to an interrogation by a girl he'd just proposed a nice date to.

Seeing right through him, she added, "Where will you buy the wine, cheese, and caviar?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her in disbelief. Colin struggled to contain his temper, but his voice was starting to reveal his tendency to sound entitled and indignant, "Is this how you react when a guy asks you out on a 'romantic' picnic?"

Sally rolled her eyes and chuckled, "Romantic, my ass. What a fucking joke... You don't have any plans to take me out on a "romantic" date. It's a lie that may have gotten you some clueless chicks in the past, but I'm not falling for it. You're full of crap, and I see it, clear as a bell. And even if you did somehow manage the picnic, I'd be bored to death with your company, because you're an idiot without an original idea in his head. So go to hell, you worthless piece of shit."

There. That shut him up good. Sally was satisfied with the effect her words had on the asshole, as he was left standing there, speechless, jaw dropped, with his dumb laundry basket in front of him.

Sally swiftly shoved her whites and colors back into her basket, took hold, and headed upstairs.

Making her way back to her room, she was thinking how elated she would feel to finally move out of the god damned boarding house. She was also shaking her head at the "joker" who had clumsily tried to tempt her with a bogus date.

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"That chick up there is a mean ugly bitch, man!" Colin declared in a fit of morning rage as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. His friend was at the table finishing up his cereal and coffee.

"Told ya.... Didn't I tell you not to mess with that one?" Vincent replied knowingly, sipping his coffee and not bothering to look up at his buddy, who had just sat down across the table.

"I'm steering clear of that fucked up skank, dude!"

"Tell me about it, man... Don't say I didn't try to warn you."

A few minutes later, after he had scarfed down his Friday morning coffee and muffins, Colin had calmed down somewhat. In fact, it didn't take him long to regain his composure. He resumed his optimistic and cocky stance. Apparently, he had not been deterred in the least from chasing tail.

"Hey, let's go cruising for pussy tonight, man. How about you, me, and Ralph head out to that village bar, the one we hit a while back, with those hot undergraduates, remember? Ah dude, the one I hooked up with, she was like, the nastiest Hoe, man..." Colin immediately pictured in his mind their friend, Ralph, whom he perceived as one of those guys who fell in love with strippers... what did they call that type of guy? "Captain Save A Hoe".

Vincent looked up surprised, "Oh, you got with that one? I didn't know." Admittedly though, he wasn't exactly shocked that the "Stacy" from the bar had let Colin into her pants.

"That's 'cause you left early, dude. And then you didn't answer my texts for, like, two weeks, remember?"

"Oh yeah. I got busy," Vincent lied.

"Hell yeah, that nympho was amazing at giving head. She was game for anything, man. I came, like, buckets full that night, like a fucking racehorse, man", Colin bragged with a gleam in his eyes.

"So what happened to her?" Vincent inquired, trying not to sound too interested at this point.

"I just told you, dude. I plowed her good."

"No, I mean, did you see her after that?"

"What are you, kidding? No way, bruh. I'm not wasting these precious family jewels on some sloppy bitch I met at a bar. Please, I've got my reputation to consider", Colin declared haughtily, "If I'm gonna let a female into my life, and spend serious money on her, she's gotta be top quality, like a Victoria's Secret model or something, know what I mean?"

"As if...." Vincent let out a guffaw in amusement. "Whatever you gotta tell yourself, dude".

"Hey, at least I got some that night, man", Colin pointed out staunchly.

"Whatever..." Vincent shook his head, reluctantly conceding defeat. He secretly lamented that his buddy was the only "Chad" there at the table. He went back to his cereal.

"So you wanna hit the bars later or what?" Colin repeated.

"I'll let you know, man." Then Vincent glanced at his phone. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, we'd better. I don't wanna hang around and run into that crazy bitch again", Colin muttered bitterly.

"I hear ya, bro... Don't make me say, 'I told you so' but...'"

"You just did."

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In the morning commute, Colin and Vincent were relegated to standing side-by-side in the jam-packed bus, squished together like sardines. Vincent's tall frame was slouched over as usual, as he peered out the passenger window off to his right. He pondered the likelihood of getting rejected by another snippety girl at a bar, that is, if he were foolish enough to venture out with his buddies again.

Then, at the thought of inhaling another "newly procured" pair of Sally's dirty, soiled, crusty underwear, his mood perked up, and his dick was on its way to developing a massive boner. Hopefully his pants were baggy enough that no one in the bus would notice his woody.

He would tell Colin to go on the prowl without him that evening.

Colin himself was caught up in his own deep thought. Looking out a different window, he noticed that their bus had just passed a huge indoor mall on a busy street. He recalled the last time he had stepped into a big shopping center like that, as he had visited a Game Stop to buy a popular video game. But instead of heading home afterwards, he had noticed a classy women's shoe store across the way. Deciding to step in, under the pretext of buying a "birthday present for my girlfriend", Colin actually planned on sneaking peeks at and admiring strangers' bare feet and toes (sometimes in nylons), all out in public. He would secretly drool while watching hot females slip their gorgeous feet in and out of expensive shoes. It was a persistent fantasy he had, in fact, ever since he entered puberty. At one point, he even wondered if he should become a shoes salesman.

But just as quickly as the idea appeared in his young mind, Colin had dismissed it, because no fucking chance in hell did he want to end up like his father, who was a pathetic shell of a man, dead-ass broke in a dead-end job, apparently drinking himself into an early grave. No, Colin would finish college and make something of his life, Goddamn it...

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