Futa Therapy Pt. 02

Dear Dr. Messersmidt --

First of all, Robert, you are right. I deliberately stopped writing too soon, and I did it on purpose. I left a lot unsaid because I wanted to make sure that you wrote me back and, let's face it, you're not the best at keeping up correspondence, are you?

But, since you did write back, I'll reward your timely letter with what I know you're dying to hear. Did John's visit have an effect on me? Oh, you have no idea.

Robert, my hands have been inside my pants constantly since John first came to visit, and even more so recently -- and you'll find out why very soon. After that first session, though, I locked the door to my office behind him and immediately started whisking away at my clit. Oh, wait. I already told you about that. Sorry.

All I could think of was that moment when Marie took control over John and fucked herself with his hand, all the while jacking off. I pictured her frantic, tipsy, on laying on the bed of this frat boy's room, desperate to get off quickly. I pictured her turned on beyond words, the taste of him still in her mouth, and stroking her cock in his direction while keeping him in place.

As I played with myself I imagined that I was her, placing myself in her shoes. You know me, Robert, that's what I'm good at -- taking over the thoughts and feelings of my patients so that I can help them. In this way, though, I could feel her libido and pride taking over.

I imagined that she was playing with him, testing him. If he ran away from her, then at least she would have the satisfaction of 'marking' him. If he didn't abandon her, well then so much the better -- at least she knew he could take what she had to offer.

I didn't know this for sure, of course, but it sure helped get me off. I kept playing it over and over in my head, my point of view always from her perspective, and I replayed the image of her cock erupting over and over until I had coated my own hand with my juices.

So, Dr. Messersmidt, happy now? And don't give me any lecture on professionalism. You certainly weren't complaining about my professionalism when you had me bent over in your office after my dissertation defense.

(I hope you can see me smiling cheekily at you right now!)

Session 2

I found myself looking forward to John's next session with considerably more enthusiasm than I expected. Of course, I would be lying if I didn't say that I was hoping for more masturbation fodder, but I kept telling myself that I needed to focus on John's needs.

Yeah, I know. But that's what I kept telling myself.

When he came in for his second session, he seemed like he was in a somewhat better mood, and I commented on it.

"Yeah, well, I talked to her," he said.

"What did you say?"

"I told her that I really liked her, like, a whole lot," he said. "And that I didn't want her to go off and find anyone else, you see."

"I see," I repeated, not intending to mock him, and knowing I was getting dangerously close to doing so.

"So I, like, I told her that I realized that me liking her and her having a dick didn't mean I was gay," he continued. I admit that despite his awkward way of putting it, I was proud of him for being open-minded.

"How did she respond?"

He squirmed in his seat. "She got mad at me," he said. He looked a little hurt and confused, which was quite the opposite of how he looked when he came in the door.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"She said that she didn't understand why I thought liking her would make me gay," he said. He looked like he was trying to work through the logic, but it was escaping him -- just out of his reach. "And that I didn't have a problem with her sucking my cock, so why wouldn't that make me gay either?"

I recalled the end of our previous conversation, and realized that Marie was not going to be a pushover.

"We did talk about this last time, remember?" I said.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know!" he said. "That's why I thought it was all, ya know, gonna be all good. I mean, I get it, ya know?"

"What happened next?" I asked.

"So, she says to me, she says," he continued, "So if I suck on you, you're not gay, right? And I says, yeah. And she says, so you think I'm a girl, right? And I says, yeah, of course. And then she says, so if I suck you, and you're not gay, then you can suck me and not be gay, right?"

I knew where this was going before he was halfway there, and I confess there was a part of me that marveled at her ability to persuade John.

"So I says to her, like, yeah, I guess, and you know what she did?"

I shook my head.

"She just stands up right there, opens up her jeans, and flops out her dick right there!" he said, wide eyed. "So then she says to me, prove it! Show me that you're not gay! Suck my cock!"

Now, Robert, I know you must think that I am making some of this stuff up. First, no one talks like this, right? Not only that, but this is just too funny for it to be real. I swear to you, I swear to you, this is all true. Hopefully now you can understand why I couldn't really put this stuff down in a "professional," clinical way.

"What did you do?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"Well, I had to prove that I wasn't gay, didn't I?" He said, as if it were completely obvious. "So I sucked her cock!"

Robert, I have no idea how I didn't have to go to the hospital. Holding back the laughter, trying to keep it all in -- I swear I was Supergirl. To this day, though, my sides still ache from the internal hemorrhage of keeping in all that laughter.

I raised a hand to my mouth as if in deep thought. "Go on," I said. It was the only words I could get out without cracking up.

"I dunno," he said. "I have never done it before, but she seemed pretty happy."

"Did she finish?" I asked, despite myself. I really wanted to know.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I couldn't get much of it in my mouth, but I didn't really need to. She told me to just keep the tip in my mouth while I fucked her pussy with my fingers. I had her coming in no time at all, ya know?" He snapped his fingers for effect.

He shook his head in wonder. "Man, oh man," he added. "She is always ready to go. I mean, whenever I come real hard, ya know, I can stay hard sometimes. Most of the time, I need a rest."

"But not Marie?"

He shook his head some more. "No, she seems to be ready to go all the time," he said. "She can get hard, stay hard, whatever she wants. And she always comes so much." He was genuinely in awe.

Robert, as I write this, I find myself growing wet again. What girl hasn't wanted a cock-on-demand? How many times have I wished that my partner could go longer? Of course, I'm not talking about you, Robert. But I do love the feeling of being fucked hard after I feel the strong orgasm of a man inside me. It just... doesn't usually happen.

Once more, I imagined Marie grabbing John by the hair as she fucked his mouth, ordering him to plunge his fingers inside her, her body charging and discharging over and over again. While John talked, I felt acutely aware of my breasts straining against my bra and my panties growing damp. I've confessed so much to you already, Robert, I might as well confess that I wanted to force John to suck me too.

Well, my clit, obviously.

Of course, though, I didn't. I managed to keep my composure.

"So it sounds like things are going well," I suggested.

"Yeah, but I think she wants to fuck me," he said, "And I don't know what to do about it."

"I see," I said. "Is she pressuring you?"

"Well, no," he admitted. "But I know that's what she wants, see? I mean, like, she makes jokes about how we can share everything, and have the same experiences, and stuff like that. She says things like, she says, 'I'll give you mine if you give me yours.' Stuff like that."

"You mean," I said, clarifying, "She'll let you have anal sex if you allow her to do the same?"

"Yeah, exactly," he said.

"Do you want to have anal sex with her?"

"Don't get me wrong, she's got a great ass," he said.

"That's not really the question, John," I said.

His shoulders fell. "I know," he said. "I don't know. I kinda do, but..."

"There's a quid pro quo," I said.

His eyes widened in shock. "She didn't say nothing about no squid!"

I couldn't help myself. I smiled. "No, John," I said, trying to calm him down. "It's Latin. It means that you'll have to do the same for her that she does for you. Kind of like, 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."

"More like, 'you fuck my ass and I get to fuck yours,'" he said, dejectedly.

"Something like that, yes."

"If you don't want to," I said, "You shouldn't do it. Consent goes both ways."

"Oh, I know," he said, "But I don't know if I want it or not. I mean, maybe it's worth it. But I've never done it before, ya know?"

I nodded. "The first time can be very scary, no matter what kind of sexual activity it is."

Suddenly, he looked up at me. "I know!" he said, excitedly. "You can help!"

It was my turn to look shocked. "John," I said, carefully. "I don't know what you're talking about. This is between you and Marie."

"No, I know. I mean, I get that," he said. "But you can help us -- Marie and me -- talk about it, right? I mean, that's what you do."

I had to confess, he had a point. Relationships -- even sexual relationships -- are part of the job. "Oh," I said. "I understand now. Of course, if Marie wants to be part of this conversation, we can have a joint session --"

He shook his head. "No, I mean, you can talk to her for me," he said.

It was my turn to shake my head. "John, that's not how it works," I said. "Marie is not my patient, you are, and I can't share anything with her that I've spoken with you about."

He looked crestfallen. "Look," I said, trying to throw him a bone. "As I said, if she wants to come with you, I'll be happy to have a conversation with the both of you. Together."

"Okay," he said. "I've already told her that I'm coming here, and she seemed okay with it."

"Has she said anything about wanting to come to one of your sessions?" I asked.

"Well, kinda," he said. "In fact, she was asking me a lot about it, and about you."

"Oh?" I asked. "Like what?"

"Well, she wanted to know what you looked like, whether you were nice, what your reaction was to her being a futa and all," he said.

"What did you say?"

"I told her that you were really cool," he said, smiling. "I told her that you were really interested in what happened and that you didn't judge me or her or anything."

I felt a slight knot growing in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure why, but something felt off. I felt as if I had been caught doing something wrong, even though I hadn't. I felt like a Peeping Jane all of a sudden, and this wave of guilt washed over me.

I fought it down, and said, "How did she react?"

"She thought it was really cool," he said, matter-of-factly. "She said that it was good that I found someone to talk to about this, and that not everyone would be so cool about it."

"Okay, then," I said. "You let me know if she wants to come to a session."

He nodded. "Okay."

Oh God, Robert, after I ushered him out of my office I had to cancel my next two appointments. I couldn't get the idea of those two fucking out of my head -- and I hadn't even met Marie! I fucked myself raw thinking about them swapping places, back and forth. Him fucking her, then her fucking him.

You know I've never been much for ass fucking, Robert. I know you loved my ass and we only did it twice, but I have to confess it was the forbidden act for me; that's what got me off. I remember it so well: being in your office, watching and feeling you lose control. I let you take me there because it was oh, so wrong, but I loved how you got off on it. Even now I can almost feel your body losing all control.

We're thousands of miles apart right now, but if you were here I'd let you do it to me again, Robert. I'd let you bend me over and shove your cock deep inside my bowels. You'd spank me and I would play with myself -- just like I'm doing right now -- and we'd both come... and come...

Fuck, I'm horny, Robert. But now you know why I'm writing you. I don't know if I've been this horny since you and I nearly got caught. I nearly got expelled, and you would have had to face a faculty review. Thank God that never happened. But I would do it all over again if I could have you inside me right. Fucking. Now. My pussy or my ass - your choice.

Between the time that John left my office and the next session, I was a walking time bomb. I honestly lost count how often I masturbated. I watched porn every chance I could. I looked at pictures of futa online, watched them come all over themselves and anyone else within range.

At that point in time, I should have known that it was not a good idea to keep seeing John as a patient. It definitely wasn't a good idea to entertain the notion of meeting Marie. I wasn't thinking straight, and I certainly wasn't acting right.

When John came to his next session, Robert, I was both emotionally and professionally unprepared. I should have known... I just should have.

God my pussy feels so empty, Robert. I wish you were here to fill it.

- Genvieve