Dr. White's Code of Sluts Ch. 01 Pt. 02

But I didn't have time to bask in the glow of the best sex of my life. I had work to do.

I needed to get all these thoughts into writing now, while it was still fresh. Wearing my blazer with my tits hanging out, still covered in Eddie's cum, a choice I made mostly to leave a lasting image in his mind, I only stopped to pull out a bottle of wine from the fridge before getting to work. My nails clicked at the keyboard, consulting my notebook as I did so. Wanting to get all my thoughts onto the page, I didn't slow down or take a break, putting down all my notes and observations while they were top of mind. I didn't want to miss a thing as I reviewed the night's proceedings step by step, noting what worked, what didn't, and what led to him finally giving me the dick. I wanted to note what hit home with him, what pushed him away, what kept him in line, and what pulled him in deeper.

I had footage of what happened here as well, having set up a couple cameras in my office knowing what was about to happen. He didn't know this, of course, and I had no ill intentions with that footage. It was purely for my own sake... honest. So I could look back and watch everything, perhaps even find things that I'd missed in the heat of the moment. Those little, subtle reactions that are easy to miss.

And, of course, I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to watch footage of that absolute stud fucking the shit out of me over and over again. It was my first sex tape, a big achievement in any enterprising slut's life. And hopefully, it would not be the last.

I re-examined Eddie's whole case from start to finish. Despite how well it had turned out in the end, looking back, I could only see the mistakes I'd made along the way. In our first meeting, I'd gotten a little impatient, pushing certain lines of questioning too hard and too fast, almost pushing him away in the process. If I'd been a little more patient and defter in my questioning, I could have been almost snake-like, slowly curling around him without him realizing it, keeping him from seeing the danger he was in till it was too late. In that sense, my plan had failed.

But I did get bailed out by a few factors. As I said before, Eddie was just too trusting, allowing me to exploit his better nature and get back in with him enough to pull him back here into my office. Additionally, because of his intense predilections for boobs and butts, I was able to break back through his defenses by sheer blunt force, dressing up like a slut, exposing my body enough to impose my will on him just like all his whore girlfriends used to. But... that was a risky play on my part, a bold maneuver that I shouldn't have to do if I had done my job right during our first appointment. It could have easily gone wrong in so many ways, and it wasn't a trick I should rely on. In the future, I'd like to keep most of the heavy lifting in my office, a closed ecosystem that I had complete control over. That would be my goal going forwards, but if I couldn't accomplish that, I knew I had some tricks in my holster that I could deploy.

That being said, the bold, aggressive approach had worked with him, both a few days ago, and again here today. I was confident it would, because Eddie seemed especially susceptible to that approach. I mean, I questioned him with my cleavage hanging out, I literally convinced him to ask me to take off my bra, and I sat on his lap and humped him till he gave in and fucked me. But as long as I kept assuring him it was okay, that this was all part of the plan, he was convinced enough to go along with it, even though his alarm bells were clearly ringing like crazy. He had a clear weakness for aggressive women, so taking charge of the proceedings, imposing my will on him throughout... it really worked on him. But this wouldn't always be the case, of course. However, the aggressive approach was a perfectly valid one that shouldn't be dismissed outright... it just had to be deployed in the right situation. With the right men.

This whole case really panned out for me, though, in so many ways. It lined up perfectly with my hypothesis about someone's desires, their 'type', getting etched into stone at the point where they become sexually active. Sure, some desires emerge from a much earlier point, but it's when they are consciously sought out and acted upon that they get finalized. Eddie had his own desires at some point in time, but his intense appeal had caused more confident, self-aware young women to impose their needs on him, creating a whole new set of wants and desires inside him. He didn't start with these desires, but by the time those girls were through with him, a lust for boobs and butts were hard written into his brain. And now, after some very intense questioning, he fully admitted to it, that he LOVED big, massive tits and round juicy asses more than anything, even his wife. He admitted it!

I knew every case I had wouldn't be so centered on this specific hypothesis, but this one was such a clear-cut example of my theory that it would be a perfect showcase for it going forwards. These notes I was taking, this line of study I was energized to pursue, would be about codifying these hypotheses, these rules of sex. And this case was the ideal example of the first revelation I'd made. And I had no doubt there'd be many more revelations, many rules set in stone, going forwards.

And this was only chapter one.

I was in my office till late in the night, working until exhaustion finally hit me. The events of the day, the intense mind-melting sex, the work that came after, the few glasses of wine... it all began to take its toll. When I noticed I was making a lot of uncharacteristic typos in my otherwise flawlessly typed notes, I knew it was for the best if I stopped for the night. I could take my work home and revisit it in the morning with fresh eyes. Plus, I could watch the footage of me and Eddie fucking! I couldn't wait to do that! But for now, it was time to call it.

This was the start of something great here, hence my excitement. I meant it when I said to Eddie that this exercise was a major success. It was unorthodox, for sure, but it worked so well that it was impossible to ignore it, or get bogged down by any ethical concerns. I mean, look at the facts. At the start, he was nervous to come into my office, but by the end, he was begging to cum inside me! If that's not a sign of total success, I don't know what is. Facts are facts. My approach had worked, and it would only get better with more experience. Being a better a slut meant being a better sex therapist, and I was SO ready to go there.

Cleaning up enough to be presentable, I was on a high as I made my way home. And after I cleaned up and went to bed, I thought I might have trouble sleeping due to the excitement still coursing through my system. Instead, I slept like a baby, having my best night of rest in a long time. If I had any qualms or guilt about what I'd done, I wasn't feeling any.

As I said, this was the start of something. And I couldn't wait to explore it deeper.

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

(One Week Later)

(Eddie)

When I got home that night after fucking Dr. White, I expected to walk in, have Annie take one look at me, and just... know. I feared she would see me and know exactly what I'd been up to. I dreaded that she would immediately see the truth that I had betrayed her completely, cheating on her with her therapist, a woman she trusted.

But Dr. White was right... she didn't suspect a thing.

Instead, she gave the biggest, warmest smile upon seeing me, and I found myself kissing her before thinking twice. It was only moments later that I remembered that these lips of mine had been planted against Dr. White's asshole an hour or so prior, and the memory made me pull back. But the small, tired smile I managed to give her dissuaded any worry she might have. And judging by her expression, she clearly didn't sense anything otherwise amiss with the kiss.

I... I almost wished she had noticed. I wished she had seen it on me. That she yelled and screamed and cried. Not only because it would take the brunt of the truth out of my hands, but... I would almost respect her more. Because as much as I hated to admit it, the fact that she didn't sense anything off made me lose a bit of a respect for her. The fact that I was able to move in close and kiss her, give a weak excuse for my actions that night, make my way up to the shower and toss my clothes into the wash without a question...

Dr. White was right... it was shocking how easy it was to get away with it.

For her to be in that position, of having her husband cheat on her and be so clueless about it, accepting the humiliation of kissing the lips that had been lustfully pressed against another woman's asshole... and just smiling and taking it? Without question? Without doubt? How could she not sense something was off? How could she not see it on me? How could she be that naïve?

Dr. White had mentioned that she was paranoid about me cheating. But in the moment where that paranoia was ready to be proven valid, she dropped the ball. Not even the slightest ping on her radar. I know Dr. White had been trying to quell her fears, and it had almost worked too well. She was missing out on such obvious signs... How was this possible? I'd spent the evening 'working late' while secretly out fucking another woman's brains out. I come home hours later, way later than usual, my clothes probably a mess, my hair out of place, the forbidden smell of sinful sex probably still on me and... nothing. No response. How? How had I gotten away with it?

The guilt hit me hard the next morning, and I pledged, despite my actions the previous night, to put in the effort to make things work. To ignore what I'd done and try to move on. To process my mistakes internally and not let slip any of the turmoil I was feeling. To carry the regret I had for the rest of my life as I tried to make it up to her. I put on a smile, acted the part of a good husband, and hoped that the act might turn into reality again.

But I couldn't shake the guilt. Dr. White had been right about everything, and my own actions had proved it. Could I just try to ignore the fact that I'd proven to be a terrible husband? That I'd betrayed my wife for the most superficial reasons possible? That I'd proven to still be consumed with desire for big tits and perfect asses, to the point where I'd betrayed my wife to satisfy that desire?

It was SO good, though. Of course it was. The sex had been amazing, the best of my life. Her pussy, her ass... her spectacular tits... it was all just fucking incredible. But succumbing to those desires as I had ... did it really mean that my marriage was doomed like Dr. White said? I loved Annie... I really did. I had to try to make it work. I couldn't just leave her behind, ruin her life because of my error in judgment. People made mistakes all the time. Sure, mine was bigger than most, my mistake, I mean. But Dr. White's words hung with me. Was I trying to support something that would inevitably fail? Was I fighting a losing battle? Was I destined to end up fucking slutty pussy for the rest of my life, betraying my wife again in the process? Despite all that, I had to try. I had to try to salvage this. I had to fight for Annie despite my mistakes.

And for a couple days there, things were going really well. As good as could be, given the circumstances. I was being an extra attentive hubby, trying to demonstrate how devoted I was. I carried myself as normal, and gave away no signs of my inner chaos. And she seemed to respond, to the point where she said we should go out to dinner that Monday. Eager to prove myself to her, I accepted.

That's where the trouble began.

The dinner started off good, but unfortunately for me, the waitress we had was absolutely gorgeous and had an incredible set of double-E tits stretching out her tight black top. And for the life of me I couldn't stop thinking about them, to the point where I had trouble not staring. Even as me and Annie talked, I found myself distracted, watching the bubbly, big-boobed waitress sauntering about.

If I behaved like the man Dr. White said I truly was, those tits could be mine. I could get my hands on them if I really wanted to. She was a very good waitress, and I could tell she was doing that thing where she was being extra chipper and attentive to someone she found attractive, enough to communicate that feeling but still have plausible deniability. She was attracted to me, but she was keeping everything above board, because she was dealing with a married man. But if I gave her the sign that I was down for something, I had no doubt she would follow up. I had no doubt she would give me her number. I had no doubt I would get my hands on those big tits of hers.

I breathed a little easier after leaving the restaurant that night, shaken by my wayward thoughts, unhappy that I wasn't able to enjoy the romantic night without drifting to thoughts of big tits. I felt so guilty about it that when Annie signaled that she was down to fool around, I declined, claiming to be too tired. When in reality... I just didn't want to invite the comparison to other women. I didn't want to be disappointed. She accepted this, because she loved me, and she trusted me, falling into a blissful slumber next to me. But my thoughts didn't allow me to calm down, and I found myself an hour later jacking off in the bathroom to thoughts of that smoking hot waitress with the big tits. This was cum I should have given to my wife, but I'd rejected her not out of a lack of need, but of guilt. Without thinking about it, I'd opted to let the thought of a pair of massive boobs take preference over actual, real sex with my wife. And it was that thought that was on my mind when I went to sleep that night.

Things didn't get better as the week went on. Annie had her appointment with Dr. White, and when she mentioned that, I'm sure that I visibly tightened up. But she didn't notice anything, of course. The whole time she was gone, I was afraid that Dr. White would slip up in some way and give away too much information, accidentally imply that me and her had done the deed. I should have known better, though, as Annie returned home just as chipper as she was when she left. I doubt she saw the relief on my face.

Again, she wasn't catching on to anything.

We went out a few times that week, and every time, I found my eyes wandering. We went out to the movies, and I couldn't take my eyes off the vacant, big-breasted starlet on the screen, hoping that she would find some excuse to go topless. We went out shopping, and I found myself gawking at the pretty young clerk with a big smile and even bigger breasts. Me and Annie went out on a walk, and of course we were walking behind a hot-bodied Latina with a mouthwatering ass, and this quiet romantic evening became anything butt for me.

I was going crazy.

Dr. White had made another appointment with me last time for this Friday, and for the whole time since, I'd promised myself I wouldn't be going back. No. She was bad news. She was the root of all this chaos. Things had been good until I started in with her, and it had only gotten worse the deeper I'd gone. The two times I left her office, I felt more and more conflict. But the problem was, despite all that, each time I thought of her, my cock would turn to steel. Her words were constantly echoing in my mind. Her tits were haunting my dreams. My thoughts. My fantasies. I didn't want to see her anymore, but then again, I wanted to see her more than anything.

Despite my initial apprehension directly after the events of last Friday, I could just feel that I was talking myself into seeing her again. Clearly, I was a mess right now, and I needed someone to help me process things. My disobedient thoughts were out of control, and the small chance of getting real help from a trained therapist began to outweigh the risks. Those risks being the very likely chance that I would just end up balls deep inside her tight cunt once again, and that my hands and mouth would end up against her gigantic boobs once more.

I know it seemed insane to be even considering going back to her now, after what I knew about her. But... I just couldn't shake her sudden change in tone after the sex was done. At first, I thought it was an insane prospect for her to claim to be anything else but a slut after my big cock. But she didn't break 'character' once the sex was over, to the point where I began to actually wonder if it all really was truly an exercise. An unorthodox one to be sure, but an exercise, nonetheless. Maybe she was in fact being truthful with me, to the point where her offer to talk things out after a week of turmoil post-fucking started to sound like a viable prospect. Because I couldn't go on this way. The reward was starting to feel worth the incredible risk.

I couldn't help but consider that perhaps because she was right about my true feelings, my true nature, I was associating all those bad things with her. Maybe she wasn't the cause, she was simply the messenger of the deeper issue. Maybe she was using her hot body as a vessel to help me reach catharsis. Maybe she was actually looking out for my best interest, acting like a filthy slut in order to help me improve.

Look... I know it all sounds insane. But my mind was fraught. I needed to deal with this somehow. I needed to hope against hope that I was right, that Dr. White really wanted to help me. If I didn't, then this probably only ended one way. If I was wrong about Dr. White it still ended that one way. The only possible chance at salvation was going back to see her.

That's how I found myself in her office Friday night after work, feeling a combination of dread and excitement. I probably looked unwell, a bundled nerve, coiled up and ready to snape. And when she appeared at the door, in a buttoned-up dark business suit with a silky purple top below it, showing just a minor hint of cleavage, I talked myself into believing that things were gonna be above board. That things were gonna turn out alright.

However, when she again told the front desk girl that she could go home, I began to worry. But by that point, I was already ahead of the doctor in the hall. I literally couldn't go back now. And besides, by the time I fully processed this, my legs had practically already carried me back into Dr. White's office. I shook my head, clearing my concerns as I stepped into her office and went back to the fateful couch, sitting up straight and waiting for her to sit across from me. Waiting for her start our appointment. Ready for her to ask her questions.

She didn't even bother.

Closing the door behind me, she sauntered casually towards me.

"I have been waiting for this appointment all week..." she said with a grin as she got closer to her chair, unbuttoning her blazer casually as she did so. "I can barely think straight..." I didn't have time to fully process what she said. With me watching, she walked right past her chair. Before I knew it, she stepped right up to me and planted her ass on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck as she moved in close. Looking at her face, I could almost see her professional veneer fully drop.

"Welcome back, lover..." she purred, her tone heavy and lustful, smirking wickedly at my nervous face. "You ready for more?" She wasn't even trying to be professional. She was being the 'slut' right from the start. She wasn't even bothering to try to pretend otherwise. Fuck! It was only then I saw that there weren't two sides of Dr. White. There was one. The slut. The scheming, cunning whore. I'd let this wicked slut sink her claws in me, and after a week of freedom, I'd walked right back into her clutches, hoping for a salvation that I knew deep down wasn't there. As my cock began straining against her ass, I realized what a fool I'd been to think this would end any other way.