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Dr. White gave me a sad smile.
"Eddie..." she began patiently. "It's very common to reject such a prognosis. It's very understandable. And while I grant that I could certainly be wrong, I really don't think I am. And what I'm asking of you isn't a bad thing. It's nothing shameful. In fact, it's perfectly natural. If anything, some would claim that it'd be weird to not prefer these things. My hope for today is for us to reach the point where you can admit that you love big, round, jiggling tits! That you love firm, full, bouncy asses! And once you do, we can make some real progress. And honestly, I think by the end of today, you'll be saying those very things."
She said this all very earnestly, but it still seemed so unbelievable to me. It wasn't like I was some chronic drinker who was sneaking a drink at every opportunity, someone with a very clear problem. I knew myself. I knew I didn't have this issue. I knew I perhaps had things to sort through from my past, but this wasn't what I had in mind at all.
"Listen..." I started. "I had my fun in my past. And I had fun with women that were, uh... like you describe. But I really don't think I have some sort of crippling affliction like you say. If I did, I'd admit it. I like boobs and butts as much as any guy, I suppose, and I had my time where I liked them a lot, but I don't think it's as pervasive a problem today as you say. It's really not been a problem for me. I'm happy with my wife. I'm not looking around!" I tried my best to say this as genuinely as I could to get her to believe me. It shouldn't be hard, as it was the truth. And for a moment, I thought I'd convinced her.
"We seem to be talking in circles," she said, smiling in mild impatience.
"I don't know what you want me to say!" I replied, annoyed at her annoyance. "Do you want me to lie just to support your theory?"
"I want you to be honest," she said firmly. "With me, and most importantly... with yourself."
"I am," I claimed. Again, that same slightly annoyed smile passed across her face. Looking up, as if thinking things over, she seemed to be struck by inspiration.
"Eddie, I have an idea," she said, pressing her closed notebook down against her lap as she smiled warmly at me. "Now... it's a bit unorthodox, but I really think it will help move things along."
"Okay..." I said, slightly unsure as to where this was going.
"Before we begin, I want to assure you that no matter what is said, no matter what is done, this is part of the therapeutic process," she stated. "As unorthodox as it may seem, I'm gonna ask you to trust in this process, and trust that I'm working for your greater good, no matter what happens. So... do you trust me?"
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, unsure as to why she was suddenly being so secretive. What was she about to do?
"Do you trust me?" She asked pointedly, not letting me move past her question. I didn't know her well enough to have established an easy trust. Annie believed in her, for sure. And I really liked Dr. White too, at least as a person. And I thought I respected her as well, as she seemed very intelligent. Yet, her having dug her heels into a crazy theory about my dating life and what I liked had shocked me. Was she good at her job and seeing something that I didn't see, or was she a quack following a mirage? She came highly recommended, and she was clearly well-qualified, judging by the degrees on the walls. But something about her view of the events of my life gave me pause. This wasn't going as I thought it was going to. She had me askew from the start, and I was uncomfortable for reasons I couldn't quite place. But wasn't that the goal of therapy?
I looked into her warm, friendly eyes, and I wanted to trust her, but something was holding me back. I didn't even really know why. Suddenly, my mind flashed back to our run-in a couple days prior. Something about it, running into her that day... I don't know why that event was pinging in my head at this moment. Was my mind trying to warn me of something? I don't know. But I couldn't think about that day without thinking about Dr. White in that outfit. Her body on display, her legs, her ass, those massive breasts. So much skin exposed... no. No! I couldn't let my mind drift like that. Shaking my head clear of these thoughts, I quickly answered her, eager for something that would distract me from my wayward thoughts.
"Yeah... yeah. I trust you," I quickly answered, shaking my head, eager to just move along to the next thing. At this, she smiled wide.
"That's great!" she said happily. "I'm so glad you trust me so much! You won't regret it! Just hold on one sec..." She set down her notebook on the table next to her, stood up, and walked over to her desk. Facing away from me, she leaned over her desk to do... something. What, I couldn't say for sure. I watched her out of curiosity for a few moments, but before I could stop myself, my eyes fell to her jutting ass. The round, full cheeks were pressing out against the thin material of her slim skirt, and with the way she was leaning over the desk, she was unwittingly giving me a perfect view of her first-class ass. Fuck... for as impressive as her boobs were, her ass wasn't far behind. It really was incredible. My mind flashed to minutes prior when it was shaking side-to-side as she led me to her office. Or even better, a couple days before when it was clad in a pair of ultra-tight denim booty shorts, barely containing the juicy cheeks as they tested the constraints of the tight garment. This image was capped with the sight of the top of her thong rising out from underneath the shorts, forming a lewd whale-tail. This image remained etched in my mind's eye for a few seconds before I caught myself. A jolt went through my dick, stirring me from thoughts. Ripping my eyes away from her fantastic ass, I looked away, not wanting to give her any ammunition for her incorrect theories. Get it together, Eddie! No more weak moments. I looked away just in time, as moments later, she stood up and moved to return to her seat. It was as she sat down that I finally looked up. And when I did, my breath caught in my throat.
She'd returned with nothing in her hands, but her fingers had been busy, as her top had been unbuttoned to halfway down her chest, exposing the expansive valley of smooth cleavage between her enormous breasts. Her boobs seemed to be packed into her tight red top judging by the way they were pressed together. The only thing crossing the canyon of cleavage was the black lace of her bra, the material stretched precariously over the valley, looking like it could snap at any moment from the weight it was trying to hold back. Still in her blazer, and with the rest of her outfit still in place, she honestly looked like someone out of a porno.
My cock lurched in my pants.
After a few moments of looking at this shocking sight, my eyes finally looked up and met her twinkling gaze.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm hoping this spurs a little more honesty..." she replied calmly, using her fingers to gesture towards her now exposed cleavage. I recalled what she said before... how sex and sexual desires reveal the nature of someone. Was that what she was doing here? Trying to put me on edge in order to get the 'truth' out of me? Well, it wouldn't work. She wasn't gonna change my answers.
But damn... her cleavage did look impressive.
"This doesn't seem right..." I croaked out, doing my darndest to keep my eyes on hers, trying to ignore the fact that the more I looked, the harder my dick got. I had to get it together.
"Tell me, Eddie..." she replied, as if not hearing me, grabbing her notebook off her side table and opening it back up. "How often did you have sex with your exes? On average, I mean, because there were so many of them..."
My jaw clenched at this small slight, but again, this seemed like a plan to get to me, and I wasn't gonna let her do so.
"We..." I began, before actually thinking of the answer. Most of my exes were very sexually aggressive, meaning they were good to go most of the time. And they liked it multiple times a day. Seriously. With a few of them, even if we were having a disagreement, or a full-out fight, we would usually end up having sex that night anyway. Not a recipe for the healthiest relationships, but quite a few of them lasted for longer than you'd think. "Uh... most days," I replied, trying to keep it brief and not say too much.
"How often do you make love to Annie?" Dr. White followed up. My eyes narrowed, seeing where she was going. Clenching my jaw shut, I replied.
"Maybe once a week."
"Do you prefer the rate you were going at it in your younger days, or do you like the easy, languid pace of your love life with your wife?" she asked calmly. I knew she was deliberately trying to needle me, but I didn't let it get to me.
"I had fun with my exes, but that's the stuff you do when you're young. I'm happy settling down and enjoying things beyond, you know... going at it three times a day." I stated, realizing at the end I'd revealed too much. Fuck! She smiled slightly at this and was already looking down to jot down some notes as I finished my sentence, allowing my eyes the clearance to steal a glimpse at her breasts, my eyes getting lodged in her cleavage for a few stray seconds before looking away. Stop it! Why did I keep looking? Fuck!
"There's no reason to not have a vigorous sexual relationship even after getting married. You don't have to settle down and 'make love' just because you think you're supposed to as a married couple. You have free reign to keep it freaky!" she said.
"I know. It's just... we're not that kinda couple, I guess. I don't mind that what we do isn't the crazy stuff. I don't need a girl doing crazy headstands and gymnastics and her saying every swear word in the book. I like the normal, quiet, gentle, lovey-dovey stuff. I really do." I stated this firmly, yet my eyes flickered down to her cleavage again. Dammit! Do better, Eddie! Luckily, she was busy writing, so she didn't notice. Nor did she notice the fact I had to shift in my seat thanks to my cock hardening in my pants. Luckily, she was focused on taking notes based on what I just said. I think she could sense the truth in my words judging by her nod as her pen glided against the paper.
"In this job, I've gotten to know what makes most men tick. And despite claims to the contrary, most men would prefer having as much sex as possible. The leading cause of erosion in loving relationships is an incompatibility of sexual desires between partners. Sometimes, it's the wives that have desires that aren't being met, and she needs a man more talented... more experienced... or better equipped. Although that's clearly not the case here. And other times, men need a woman whose... more open-minded... more confident in her desires... or quite simply has a better body. So, Eddie, with your history, and knowing Annie's dating history as one that's a little more humble, I don't think it's unfair for me to draw the conclusions I've drawn with you. And knowing what I know, I don't think it's unfair of me to ask whether a man with your history would prefer to be doing a bit more than 'making love' once a week. Because... no offense, I've seen a lot of stories that have started this way. And they always end the same way."
"I... I mean, I suppose I get it. But I don't know what else I can tell you," I stated firmly, holding her gaze. Yes! "I honestly think my tastes have honestly evolved beyond such things." My eyes then flickered down for the briefest of glances at her chest, her top yawed open to display so much smooth golden skin. But this glimpse was again so quick I doubt she caught it. Damn... that's what I get for getting cocky. I've got to get a hold of myself. I shifted in my seat again.
"Well..." she began, clearly ready to push back at this claim. "As I've stated before, I don't think anyone's tastes change so drastically. I think they evolve and grow, but it's all variations of the same core desires that had been etched in stone years prior. I have a previous patient who, at 36, after years of being married to a man, realized she was a lesbian. She didn't become a lesbian. Upon reflection, she was always a lesbian. She didn't change her tastes. That core desire was always there, it just took a bit longer to fully bloom. And bloom it has. She is currently paired up with a lovely young lass fresh out of college with huge... uh, assets, that you supposedly don't care about anymore. But the point is... in my experience... what you like stays the same. You add to it, sure, some aspects of it evolve and grow, but they typically don't pivot in the opposite direction. Hence, my skepticism. Do you understand?"
"Yeah..." I nodded. "I mean, I get it. That makes sense. I can only speak to my thought process, not any greater patterns and trends." I again was able to hold her gaze as I replied and even as she took her notes. Good. I was doing better. Keep it up.
"Is there a typical day you two end up doing it?" she asked.
"Heh..." I said, smiling. "I mean, we're a boring married couple, but we're not so boring as to schedule out when we do it." Even she laughed at this. After writing her notes, she then looked upwards, searching for her next question.
"Well, I guess I'm not so much interested in your lovemaking schedule as I am interested in whether or not you had sex with your wife two nights ago?" she asked, her tone going from friendly to firm over the course of her question. My smile dropped at hearing this. What? How did she know? How could she have guessed? Was she implying that...
"What do you mean?" I asked, the humor gone from my voice.
"Did you have sex with your wife on Wednesday night?" she asked slowly, repeating her question.
"Why does it matter?" I asked, still confused. Wednesday? We did have sex that night, me and Annie. And that was hours after I'd run into Dr. White at the grocery store. After I'd been confronted with her incredible body in very skimpy clothing. After I couldn't ger her body out of my mind for hours until I just had to get it out of my system. And as I did so, at the moment of explosion, it was Dr. White and her hot body that had appeared in my mind. It was Dr. White I was having sex with. It was Dr. White who'd gotten me off. And as her intelligent eyes looked straight into mine firmly, it was clear that somehow, someway... she knew. She was staring into my soul and reading me like a book.
"I think you know why it matters..." she said confidently, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment that she knew exactly why I was hesitant to answer. Her gaze was crystal clear, unobscured as her glasses remained on the table next to me, staring me down until I had to look away. How do I get out of this? Do I lie? No... she would know. She would see the lie as easily as she could see my thoughts right now.
I suddenly felt my body fill up with a red-hot dread, a near full-body panic. After having mostly gotten along with her up to this point, I was suddenly filled with a kind of fear at the sight of her in front of me. It was sort of as if I'd underestimated her, and I could only now see her full ability to soul-read me and get in my head. Adding to this was the sudden panic that... if she was right about this, was she right about everything else? Did she understand me more than I understood myself? Was I lying to myself? Was I the man she said I was?
Filled with a sudden panic, I felt the urge to flee. To just get out of here and run. I knew it would look bad, and it would probably support her theories about me. But admitting to what she was asking about, especially when it involved her so deeply... I just couldn't. I wasn't ready to deal with that. And because of that, I needed to just go.
"Dr. White, I think I need to go," I croaked out, leaning forward, moving to stand.
"Eddie, it should be a simple question," she replied undaunted, her words slowing me down as I listened. "If you are the man you say you are, a man who has evolved beyond those immature things like big boobs and round butts affecting you, then you had a normal boring night with your lovely wife. So just tell me the truth, that you lived up to the code of honor you've ascribed yourself to living up to... then we can end this. You'll have proven me wrong. Why leave when we can end this right here?" She looked at me as I was frozen in place with indecision. I wanted to leave, but that would be an admission of the truth. If I lied, she would no doubt be able to tell. That left only one option... tell the truth and all but admit that my so-called 'code of honor' wasn't as firm as I'd proclaimed it to be. And just couldn't do that, could I?
"I... uh..." I stammered, unable to find words as a nervous sweat formed on my brow.
"Eddie, it's okay," she said calmly, clearly knowing the answer. "Just tell me what happened."
"I... I... I can't, Dr. White," I admitted, looking down, putting my head in my hands, my brain completely locked up, not knowing what to do. She said nothing for a few moments, and it was only when her girly smell hit my nose that I realized she had moved closer to me. Feeling her weight on the couch, I realized she had taken a seat next to me.
"Eddie..." she began, rubbing my shoulder. "You're doing so well! I just need you to stick with me for a little longer, okay? We are right there!" Her tone was suddenly friendly and warm, a far cry from her firm, somewhat cold tone from moments prior. Was this all part of her plan? Was she not trying to trap me but instead trying to push at me to get to the truth? For a moment, I felt the sudden all-consuming dread dissipate inside me, and I looked up and to the right where the doctor was now seated. This motion involved my eyes traveling up her seated body to meet her gaze, but my eyes never made it.
They never made it past her breasts.
In my current state, I probably wouldn't have been able to look past them anyways. But it became apparent almost immediately that her top had become even more unbuttoned than it had been moments prior. Now, the opening in her top went past the front of her bra, exposing a bit of her fit belly. Additionally, her top even more spread apart, meaning that I could see even more of her bra-clad breasts. And with her sitting right next to me, that meant her gigantic boobs were... right there! Right next to me, barely contained by her black lace bra. My eyes fell into the smooth, artful crevasse between her large, smooth breasts, the soft golden skin of her ripe, juicy tits curving inwardly into a deep dark cleft that seemed endless. My eyes fell to the small strip of material connecting one cup of her bra to the other, being pulled apart by the sheer force her breasts were exerting against the strip. It felt like if she simply arched her back, the added force would shred that small strip of material, sending her mammoth breasts thundering out. Then, they would be exposed to me. Then, I would finally see what they look liked bare.
My cock throbbed in my pants.
This sensation made me catch what I was doing. Realizing that I was blatantly staring at Dr. White's breasts, with her right next to me, no doubt watching, I let my head fall back into my hands, feeling so guilty for having another weak moment so obviously. I needed to stop admiring her bra, and its contents. I needed to stop doing a lot of things.
"I'm sorry..." I croaked out, shaking my head in my hands.
"Eddie..." Dr. White said softly, leaning in against me. Her girly smell hit my nose even more strongly, making my spine shiver. And as she moved in close to me, I could feel her soft breasts grazing against my arm, making my cock jump in my pants. "You had sex with your wife that night, didn't you?"
