Futa Therapy Pt. 03

Dear Dr. Messersmidt -

Oh, Robert, what have I done? The more I think about writing you this letter, the more I dread admitting it, even to myself.

You taught me better than this, I know. Even though you and I had our own... indiscretions... I always knew there were lines that we didn't cross with our patients. Okay, technically Marie wasn't my patient, but there's no way in hell I'd ever get a pass from a review board.

You paint (see what I did there?) a very lurid picture of how you reacted to my last letter, and I would be lying if I didn't say I had hoped you'd write to me that way. Yes, I was serious when I said I wanted you, and yes, I was serious when I said that I would let you take my ass and do what you wanted with me. No, I don't think your wife would let you fly across the country to do it, though.

The thought of you stroking your cock to me gets me turned on, though, and I can't say that I'm not tempted... but no, don't do it. I've broken too many rules as it is, already.

(I'd gladly watch a video of you coming all over your hand as you fantasize about fucking my ass, though! giggle)

There's a part of me that wishes you could be here, not just for the satisfaction of my sexual needs, but because I think I've lost all sense of professional perspective as well. My mind is all over the place, Robert!

Session 3

As you can imagine, I was thoroughly looking forward to John's next session. I wanted to know if she had managed to peg that little frat boy in the ass after all.

Yeah, I know, I should have recognized I was in over my head even back then. But my curiosity was getting the better of me. I was living vicariously through John's sessions in a way that I never thought I could, and I confess I didn't want to break things off. I felt like I needed to hear more.

I didn't expect that John was going to bring Marie, though. I had thought that he would go back, talk it over with her, and then he would come back and tell me how it went before we would make another appointment. How could I have been so naïve?

I also wasn't expecting how good-looking she would be. Jesus Fucking Christ, Robert, I consider myself straight as an arrow, but even I had to admit that she was drop-dead fucking gorgeous. She was slight, blonde, and with a round-ish face that seemed to combine the classic girl-next-door look with the cheerleader archetype.

Before I go on, Robert, think about how you have been imagining how she might look. Examine your preconceived notions, whatever biases you may not have even thought you had. I know you've looked up futas online, Robert - I know you have because it's what I would do; it's what I did. You probably did it under the guise of "professional research," just like I did.

Believe me when I tell you that she was nothing like what you would be expecting. There was no hint that she was anything other than a typical college co-ed. Worse, she made me really challenge the way that I had been thinking, and I confess I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I had only been thinking of her in a sexual way over the previous few weeks.

"Hey, Dr. Genvieve," John said. "This is Marie."

I extended my hand, and she took it. "Hello, Marie," I said. I don't know if I showed that I was taken off guard, but I like to think that I've had enough practice over the past few years that I can handle almost any unexpected surprise.

"A pleasure, Dr. Genvieve," Marie said.

"So, I hope you don't mind," John said. "I got to talking with Marie, here, and I says to her, I says, that it's okay for us to come talk to you."

Marie looked from me to John and back again. She was demure, but not delicate. I didn't get the impression that she was uncomfortable in any way. If I had balked, I have no doubt that she would have politely excused herself.

"It's quite all right, John," I said. "Please, won't you both have a seat?"

John plopped himself down on my couch, and Marie took in her surroundings. Her eyes floated across the certifications on the wall. "Oh, so you're not from Chicago?" she asked, noting my diploma.

"No," I said. "I only moved here a few years ago from Southern California."

"Isn't that the wrong direction?" she asked, flashing me a brilliant smile.

I returned the favor. "Some may think so," I said. "I tend to feel more at home in the Midwest."

"Oh," she said, returning her gaze to examine the office. "I suppose that makes sense. Someday I hope to go to California."

"To live, or to visit?" I asked.

She shrugged, and turned back to me and smiled again. "Whatever works," she said, nonchalant.

"She wants to get into show biz, ya know?" John said. He seemed to be in a very different place than when he first came. He seemed more excited, enthusiastic, even, about having her there. Almost like he was trying to show her off.

"Acting?" I asked.

"Animation," she replied. For her part, she was far more calm and collected that John. She sat on the couch with her legs crossed at the knees, hands placed upon them in a very proper manner.

She had beautiful green eyes and high cheekbones that made me wonder if she had some Central European heritage. When she looked at me, I felt that she was cutting through the air with her gaze, piercing my professional mantle. I had been completely unprepared for this. With John's rather coarse demeanor, I thought that she might have been on the same wavelength as he was. I couldn't have been further from the truth.

"So," I said, grabbing my notepad and pen, "John, what's been happening since you and I last spoke. And why did you want to bring Marie here this time?"

"Well I was thinking about what you said, you see," he said. "And I figured you were right. Like, this is new territory for me, and I figured, you know, that you could, you know..."

I actually didn't. "John," I said, "I'm afraid I don't know. I need you to tell me."

He looked from me to Marie, and back again. Marie decided to try and let him off the hook. "I think what John is trying to say," she said, carefully, "is that he wants to have sex with me, but he is still concerned that it's not 'right.'"

She seemed very casual about the conversation, as if she's been in this situation dozens of times. I became acutely aware, suddenly, that I was sitting across from a beautiful young woman who had a cock between her legs. I wanted so very much to look there, Robert, and see if I could catch a glimpse. I didn't do it, of course - at least, I don't think I did. I certainly didn't do it consciously, if I did at all.

John was nodding his head, vigorously. His leg was bouncing madly from nervousness, and Marie reached out and placed a hand on it to get him to stop. "Yeah," John said. "That's it."

"Well, as I told John," I said, looking at Marie. "Consent is a two-way street. If he's not comfortable with the idea, I'm afraid there's nothing that I can do."

She nodded, completely unfazed. "I agree, and that's what I've been telling him as well." She looked at John. "Isn't that right, John?"

John nodded. "Totally," he said, enthusiastically. "Totally."

I was confused. "Okay," I said. "So where is your impasse?"

John looked confused, but before I could say anything, Marie patted him on the thigh. "She means, where is the problem, baby."

I have to confess, Robert, I don't remember a single word that John said after that. I was completely caught up in looking at Marie. Once I had it in my head that she was hiding something special between her legs, I found myself slipping out of the conversation and back into my own fantasies.

I now had a face to go with the name, and I had a way to place her at the scenes of the crimes, as it were. I imagined her taking John's cock into that pretty little mouth, and thought about her proposals to John. I imagined her bending over and taking his cock in her pussy, then her ass, and then back again. I remembered what he said about her coming all over him, and I could almost see it happening in front of my eyes.

I shifted my weight in the chair, and I could feel how wet I had become. I was drenched, Robert, and I knew that I would be fucking myself within seconds of being alone again. I almost wanted to excuse myself to use the rest room, but the session had only started.

"... lose his erection," Marie was saying.

I snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry," I said, "What?"

There was no excuse for not paying attention, and I could feel a slight rush of heat to my cheeks at being caught daydreaming.

"It's true," John said. "Whenever we get close to doing it, I lose it."

"He gets soft," Marie confirmed.

Fuckin' hell, this girl was something else. I know you know the type, Robert. Calculating is the only way to describe her. For as self-absorbed and, well, dim as John was, she was completely in control of herself and her surroundings. She didn't seem bothered by the conversation at all. In fact, it was almost as if she was used to all of this. And yet, she couldn't have been more than 19, maybe 20.

"Let's back up," I said, hoping I wasn't going to ask a question they had already given an answer to. "Tell me exactly what happened the first time you tried."

John looked embarrassed, and then afraid. It was like he was almost afraid Marie was going to yell at him, or worse.

"Well, see, it's like this, see," he said. He was nervous and fidgety. "I start off okay, ya know? I mean, I get hard and all, and then we start to get goin', and, then I... can't... any more, ya know?"

"Why do you think that is?" I asked. I mean, I genuinely wanted to know. This girl was gorgeous, and I couldn't believe that any red-blooded male would lose an erection with her.

Marie's deep green eyes locked onto mine. "He says that he can't stop thinking about my penis," she said. She seemed to be waiting for a reaction from me, despite me knowing about who she was. When I didn't give her one, she continued. "He doesn't have a problem when I use my mouth, but once his penis gets anywhere close to penetrating me, he grows soft."

"Why is that, John?" I asked

"Don't get me wrong, ya know?" He looked from her to me. "She's beautiful, ya know? But when she's lying on her back, and her legs are spread, all I can see is her giant dick."

I could see that Marie winced a little as he said that. "John..." I began, but she cut me off.

"No, it's okay," she said. "He's right. I do have a giant dick, and it's kind of difficult to ignore or pretend that it's not there. It turns off a lot of guys."

John looked at her quickly. "What do you mean, like, a lot of guys?" he demanded.

She looked him straight in the eye. "You didn't think you were my first, did you?" she asked, not raising her voice.

"Well, I dunno!" he said. This conversation had just reached a new level of conflict.

Oh, Robert, I swear I knew what I should have done. I knew I should have used that opportunity to change tacks. I knew that I should have gone into couples' therapy mode, but I didn't. I couldn't. My mind was still locked on to the mental image of Marie lying on her back, her hard cock either straight up or lying on her flat stomach. How big was she? If she reached forward, could it slide between her breasts? Dammit, Robert, I wanted to know!

"So," I said, interrupting. "Have you tried taking her from behind?"

Both of them looked at me. I could have sworn I saw... something... in Marie's look, but I was keeping my gaze locked on John. Professionalism, of course. Yeah, right.

"Well, yeah, of course," he said. "And it works for a little while. But then I lose it again."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because, well, I can feel it."

"I don't understand," I confessed.

"Look," he said, a little exasperated. "It's like, you don't know, all right? You don't know what it's like to be inside a girl, right? When you're behind a girl, and you're fucking her, ya know, there's her ass in your hands and her pussy around your dick."

I almost expected Marie to wince again, but she was simply watching and listening to John.

"But with Marie, ya know, and don't get me wrong, she has got one hell of a sweet ass to hold on to, but ya know, when you push into her, you can feel her dick swing from underneath, ya know?" John's words came out in a rush. "And then, when I'm really pounding into her, it's like this pendulum swinging back and forth, and then it hits me in the balls."

I covered my mouth with my hand to try to hide my grin. I don't think John caught it, but Marie certainly did.

She shrugged, and blushed a little. "I can't help it," she said.

John threw his hands up in the air. "And, well, ya know, who can stay hard when that happens?" he asked, rhetorically.

"I can," Marie answered him, and flashed me a sardonic smile.

John wasn't in the mood for the joke, though, and scowled.

"John," I said, "Would you mind, terribly, if I had a few minutes to talk with Marie alone?"

I swear, Robert, I didn't have a plan. Had I known what was going to happen, I wouldn't have done it. I promise. But at the time, I could see that John was getting worked up and there needed to be a way to diffuse the rapidly escalating emotions.

John looked from me to Marie, and then back again. "Yeah," he said. "Ok. Whatever."

"Just go ahead and wait in the waiting room," I said, calmly. "I'll come get you when we're ready."

John got up and didn't bother to tame his dramatic exit. He passed through the double doors to my office, and I got up to make sure that both of them were closed and secure.

"Sorry," Marie said, as I returned to my chair. "I probably shouldn't be antagonizing him like that."

"So why did you?" I asked, straightening out my skirt.

She shrugged, and smiled. "Because it's pretty easy to do so."

"Forgive me for saying so," I said, "But you and John, you seem a little..."

"Mismatched?" She finished for me. I nodded.

She leaned back on the couch and twisted her body a little, her knees slightly to the side, so that I could see more of her thigh. I hadn't noticed before - I mean, really noticed - but her top was tight enough to show how fit she was, and I could more easily see the contours of her waist and breasts.

How can she sit like that? I thought, not for the first time. Where is she putting her penis?

"We are," she admitted. "Look, John and I are friends, but this isn't going to be permanent."

"John doesn't appear to think so."

"John doesn't appear to think, period," she said, smiling. "Look, he's a sweet guy, and he tries hard. But I know that he's just a frat boy living off 'Mummy's Money.' I've always known that he is a bad life choice."

"So why lead him on?"

"Who says I'm leading him on?" she asked, her eyes piercing through the space between us as she looked at me defiantly. "John doesn't know what he wants. All John knows is what he wants right now."

"What about you?" I asked. "What do you want?"

Her grin broadened. "Have you seen his ass?"

I confess I wasn't expecting that answer. "So it's only about sex for you?"

She cocked her head. "No, it's about the friendship too," she said. "And he is a good friend. But I gotta admit, it's mostly about his ass. But he hasn't given it up yet."

Things began falling into place at that point, Robert. Everything that John had told me had been predicated on his assumption that Marie was a delicate flower whose feelings were in need of protection. I had been completely wrong. If anything, John needed protection from Marie!

"But when he does," she continued, "we'll see how long it takes before he outlasts his welcome. I can only go for so long with someone who isn't smart enough to keep up."

"So what's the attraction?" I asked. "I mean, aside from his physique."

She shifted in her seat. My eyes flicked downwards for a second. I swear, it was beyond my control, Robert. I wanted to see.

"Have you ever had someone give in to you, Dr. Genvieve?" she asked. "Someone who is confused about what it is that they want, maybe not sure if what they want is right or wrong? And then decide of their own free will to go ahead?"

I immediately thought back to you and me, Robert. This was the moment that I knew I needed to write to you. When I came to your office that evening after classes, and you gave yourself to me. I knew exactly what she meant. When I broke you down and you took me, there was such a rush.

I flashed back to that moment, that pivotal moment when you were kind enough to give me a lift across the campus to my car in the graduate student parking lot - always a dangerous trek after taking a night class. I had planned for weeks, from the first day of class, I think, on how to seduce you.

Each time you dropped me off at my car, I fantasized about making my move. Two classes a week, having to wait from Thursday to Tuesday, and failing to get the nerve. Then, one night, I just blurted, "Do you like anal sex?"

Do you remember, Robert? It was a move to shock you, and you blushed so hard that even the darkness couldn't hide your reaction. I never had any intention of giving you my ass, of course. I just wanted you to think about it when you watched me walk to my seat from then on.

You passed off the comment as a joke, and I don't even remember what you said in response. But I knew I had you. Almost.

Two weeks later I had you in my mouth, Robert, and more than the act itself it was knowing that I had gotten you, broken through that "professor" shell that had separated us. When you fished out your cock that night - that first night of many - I knew that you were giving yourself to me of your own free will.

Should I not have confessed that to you? Oh well, I've done it. I still masturbate to that day, Robert. I remember the first time you gave in and your cock erupted inside of my mouth in that cold parking lot; I remember it like it was yesterday. So yes, I knew what she was talking about.

"There is no feeling in the world like that," she said. "It's the conclusion of the ultimate foreplay. That moment when you take someone who doesn't know how to cope with what I am, finally lets go of everything they thought they knew about themselves, finally opens them up to me.

"It doesn't matter who they are, you know," she said. "Straight, gay, bi, boy, girl - it's always the same. Ever since I can remember, no one knew how to interpret what kind of relationship to have with me. Everyone's preconceived notions is challenged, but eventually they all give in and open themselves up to me.

"And when they do," she closed her eyes, and placed her hands in her lap and pressed downwards. I was a bit stunned at her boldness. "Mmmmm, it is the best moment of all. It builds, you know? Over time, I mean. I've been working him for months now, and that moment when he accepts me into him, I'm not going to be able to last, and I'm going to let it happen. I'm probably going to come before I even bottom out in him, but that's okay. I'm going to take that, that..."

"Victory?" I suggested.

She smiled. "Victory," she agreed. "That's my reward. The payoff to all that build up. And I'm going to take the second reward."

"And what's that?" I asked. I was miserable, Robert. I couldn't sit still, I was so wet.

She leaned forward a little. "I'm going to make him come," she said. "He's going to love it. I'll bury myself in his body, reach around with my hand -" she made the gesture of reaching around an invisible body - "and I'm going to show him just how much of a good boy he is."

"And then?" I asked, my throat dry.

She leaned back against the couch. This time, she had a very pronounced bulge under her skirt, but she wasn't even hiding it.