Futa Therapy Pt. 03

"And then," she said. "He'll be all mine. He won't ever know what hit him. He will challenge his very idea of who he is, and he will be better for it."

"Better for it?" I repeated.

She nodded. "Of course!" she responded. "It always happens the same way. It's a kind of awakening. Every time it happens, it's like a metamorphosis. They realize something about themselves, something they never knew. When they give themselves to me - willingly - they finally accept that they have more capability than they ever knew. It's a revelation."

"You make it sound like a religious experience," I said.

She laughed. It was a musical, addictive sound. "I have had girls worship my cock before," she said. She'd used several words for her genitalia during the session, but this was the first time that it sounded like an invitation.

So, I looked. I could see the outline of a long, snaking tube protruding through her skirt, and before I knew it I was licking my lips. I've never had sex with a woman before, Robert, but suddenly I felt like I was on the verge of losing all control. Did futas give off pheromones?

This time she acknowledged where I was looking, and I saw it move a little.

"You like both boys and girls?" I asked.

She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. Her legs parted slightly, but I still couldn't see anything! I forced myself to look at her face.

"I like having sex with girls," she said. "But I'm attracted to boys."

"What's wrong with girls?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong with them, per se," she said. "But they're dangerous."

"How so?"

"Girls become far more possessive. Girls will try to hurt you, socially. If things don't go well with girls," she said, her gaze drifting off into space, some past memory haunting her, "they will try to ruin your life. Boys are far more simple - boys are afraid that if anyone knows, their lives will be ruined."

"You may find that that will change as you get older," I offered.

She looked at me, pointedly. "I hope so," she said. "Because sex with girls is a lot more fun."

"Why is that?" I asked.

I should have stopped, Robert. John was waiting outside, waiting to come back in. I should have stopped because I wasn't in a professional zone. I wasn't asking questions because it was part of the therapy, I asked the question - this question - because of pure, lurid interest. I wanted to know what she liked. Robert, God help me, I wanted to know how to please her, and she was about to tell me. I just couldn't stop.

"Girls give you so many more options," she said. The look on her face was practically feral. It was then that I realized that she was mirroring my body posture. She was leaning forward because I had been leaning forwards. She had leaned back when I had leaned back. She had done everything that I had done to get me more comfortable. Fuck me, it had worked.

And yet, knowing all of this, I still couldn't stop. She slid over to the corner of the couch so that she was only about a foot or two away. I could smell her perfume. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch her cock - I mean her! I could have touched her!

"Let's take you, for example," she said.

"Let's not..."

She ignored me. "Look at you, all prim and proper. Your hair tied up in a nice neat bun. Not a hair out of place." She looked me up and down like she was evaluating a piece of meat, and so help me God, I loved it. "How many times have you had a hard cock between those gorgeous tits?"

"Marie, this is highly inappropriate," I warned.

"Jesus, Dr. Genvieve," she said, examining my face closely. "You've got a mouth perfect for fucking. Look at that beautiful French pout to go along with your beautiful French name."

"Marie..."

She suddenly reached out and took my hand in hers. I looked down and watched as she turned it over in hers, but my gaze scanned beyond it to see the clear outline of her cock running down her leg.

"How many cocks have been in these hands?" she asked. "They're so tiny. You probably made all the guys feel like they were humongous!"

"I - "

"Have you ever had sex with a girl?" she asked, suddenly.

"No... I mean, that's not -" Fuck!

She smiled broadly, and took my hand into her lap, but not touching her erection. I didn't know whether to be relieved of disappointed. I was so close, so close... if I moved my hand just one more inch...

I felt her fingernails on my face, and I looked up to see her eyes only mere inches away.

"No, of course not," she said. Her voice was merely a whisper. "You've been hit on by girls, but you never went for it. You probably told your friends that you could never be a lesbian because you 'like dick too much.'"

Oh, shit!

"But you've always been curious, haven't you?" She said, creeping my hand slowly towards her pole. "You've always wondered about how girls felt, how soft they could be in all the right places."

Her hand dropped to my breast, and cupped it. Her thumb traced across the area of my bra that kept my nipple from slicing through my blouse, the pressure not helping my resolve one bit.

"I can tell, Dr. Genvieve," she said, repeating my name once more. "I know that curiosity has gotten to you. If nothing else, you want to see it, to touch it for yourself. You want to see if it's real. Well, you don't have to trust my word for it. It's real!"

With that, she placed my hand directly on her cock.

I - I don't know what happened, Robert. Even as I write this I can still feel everything as if it were happening right now. This girl - this futa - was bigger than anyone else I've ever experienced. Even you, and you know what your cock could do to me.

My instincts took over, Robert. I couldn't help myself. I began to squeeze her cock right there, right in the middle of my office. I didn't want to stop.

But she didn't stop talking, either. "There, there," she cooed. "See? Doesn't that help?"

She was only about two inches away now. I knew she was going to kiss me, and I wanted her to. But even then - even at that moment - with her cock throbbing under the pressure and squeezing of my hand through her skirt and panty hose and whatever else she was wearing, there was still a crazy moment that I thought we were going to stop.

"Did you play with yourself after John told you about the frat party?" she asked.

I was taken off guard. "What? No, I..."

Her hand left my breast and shoved between my legs. The relief that I felt when her fingertips touched the spot - that spot - was indescribable. It was a direct hit, and I bit my lip and grunted.

"Oh, of course you did," she said. She sucked in some air in a perverted expression of satisfaction. "You are so wet, I bet you haven't been able to stop frigging yourself."

I couldn't talk any more. I couldn't do anything. I was stroking her cock more brazenly now, not wanting to nor able to stop. With each pass her skirt tried to move up her thighs, but the way she was sitting it wasn't possible.

Suddenly she stood up straight, and raised her skirt to her waist. I was now face-to-cock with one of the finest specimens of masculinity I'd ever seen - and it was attached to this lithe girl with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes.

Her cock pushed out against her panty hose (I knew it!) trying to break free. It had fallen to one side of her panties, unable to constrain its girth.

She was so close I couldn't even see all of it within my field of view. I looked at the head of her cock, drops of pre-come soaking through the nylon, and I had the craziest notion that it would cause a run in her stockings if she wasn't careful.

The thing that caught me by surprise, though, was her smell. All my life I'd gotten used to a particular kind of aroma from men. Some are better than others, of course, just like I'm sure some women smell better or worse. But Marie smelled... sweet. She was aroused in a way that is impossible to describe, and there were two smells that I could detect from where I was sitting. Once again, I thought of pheromones.

Jesus Christ, Robert, her cock was alive. My hand was still stroking it, and I felt a slight pressure on my hair bun and I brought myself closer to it. I found my nose suddenly pressing against her shaft, the feeling of the nylon pressing against my cheek.

Lower I went, as she brought my mouth in line with her cockhead. Instinctively, I opened it up, and started mouthing at the knob with my lips and tongue like a stupid fish. Fucking hell, she hadn't even kissed me, and here I was mouthing at her cock!

I became a woman obsessed, Robert. It felt so good, that I simply can't put it into words. Everything I had fantasized about, everything that I had wanted, was happening. I grabbed her thighs with both hands and started licking and sucking as if there were no fabric between us.

And then... there was no fabric between us. She flexed her cock, and the head stretched against the nylon. Weakened by her own pre-come and my saliva, her head broke through and into my awestruck mouth.

I found myself moaning in pleasure as it filled my mouth, my jaw stretching far beyond anyone else I had ever been with (sorry, Robert!). I pulled at her hips to get her to go further, but I could only get a few inches of her. You know me, Robert, I have no gag reflex, but this was an issue of size.

Instinctively, I took my right hand to cup the balls that accompanied that cock, only to find a sopping wet pussy that rivaled my own. My hand just slipped just a bit further than I was expecting, and I kind of.. fell inside her. It's really hard to describe.

"Yes!" she hissed, and took her cock out of my mouth. I looked up at her from where I was sitting, disappointed and confused. A moment later I felt her hand pull my head sharply against her pussy, and I tasted another woman's wetness for the first time. Her cock lay across my forehead, resting in a lewd statuesque pose.

I thought I would be turned off, maybe even disgusted, but I was so turned on that now, looking back, I have no idea how that could ever have happened. She was so sweet, Robert. Like drinking from a sugar water fountain. I've tasted myself before, of course (you remember how much I loved tasting myself off your cock after you fucked me), but this was unlike anything else I've ever imagined.

She was addicting. I had the craziest thought - how could John turn this down? I was so thirsty, and she was letting me drink from the fountain of youth. I didn't want to stop - I don't think I could have stopped.

At least, I couldn't have stopped unless she stopped me, and when she did I felt a tremendous sense of loss. She reached down, though, and took me by the shoulders. I found myself being guided gently from my therapist's chair to the couch, and she lay me back.

Oh god, she's going to fuck me, I thought, as I watched her shimmy my skirt up around my waist and pull down my panties. My mind kept screaming at me from a far away, distant place, that this was wrong. I should not be having sex with my patient's girlfriend in my own office.

Before I knew it, though, I was looking at the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, hovering above my body. My legs were spread lewdly, just waiting for that enormous cock to plug my hole. It bounced and throbbed, so close to my entrance, but she made no effort to come any closer.

I looked from her cock to her face, and I noticed that she had a strange, sweet smile. She was waiting for something. What was she waiting for? I was getting desperate. Fuck! I needed it. I needed her! What was she doing? I had plowed my hand and my dildo deep inside for days, before I even knew what she looked like. Goddamn it, she owed me!

I didn't care any more. I wanted her to take me, to fill me up. Girl, boy, cock, pussy - it did not matter!

I scrambled with both hands for her cock and grabbed her, and shoved her inside my pussy. As large as she was - no, as huge as she was - she bottomed out in the first stroke.

"Exactly," she said, and she released a torrent of fluid inside me. "Your own free will."

One stroke, Robert. I mean, you were great - awesome, even - but all it took was one stroke from her and the feeling of being flooded from the inside, and it sent me into the most powerful orgasm I ever remembered. My vision became a kaleidoscope of colors, my hearing seemed to become muffled, and I think I came close to blacking out.

My pussy - oh, Robert, my sweet, sweet pussy - was in heaven. I felt every ripple, every ridge. Her cock hit all the right places, and as she continued to move inside me I felt my body rise and fall in climax after climax. I've only ever had multiple orgasms with one person before - you, Robert - and I swear I never thought that it would ever happen again with another lover.

She ground into me, continuing to fuck me, and I swear that she kept growing harder. It felt like there was an iron bar sheathed in flesh sawing in an out of my body, and I responded. I lost count of how many times that magic dick brought me over the edge.

Finally, I was able to catch my breath and find my words. "How can you still be hard?" I asked, incredulous. I felt her cock pushing the come around inside me, and it felt wonderful. I've always loved sex after a man comes, but he never lasted long enough for me to get off afterwards. Marie, though, had let me have so many orgasms like that, I couldn't count.

"It's part of who I am," she said, giggling. "It comes with the territory."

I giggled too at her pun, feeling like a schoolgirl being shown what my own body could do for the first time. Everything was so new, it was like everything I had ever experienced had been like standing in the foyer, but never actually stepping inside the mansion.

Fuck that, a castle. If regular sex was a house, Robert, this was the fucking Palace of Versailles.

I could have laid on that couch, and let her take me any way she wanted. In fact, I wanted to be her plaything. I wanted her to use me in every way possible, as long as she gave me those incredible orgasms again.

"Come in my mouth," I heard myself say, and felt the steel pipe withdraw from my pussy. She climbed up on the couch with one foot, the other balancing herself on the floor, and suddenly my mouth was filled with her meat. I've always hated that word, Robert - you know I have - but there's no other way to describe it. Her cock was an entity, a being, all its own.

This time it sank into my mouth, and went further down towards my throat. I stuck three fingers inside her pussy and began to fuck her like I liked to be fucked - quick, short strokes.

"Oh yeah, that's it," she said. "Are you ready?"

I looked up at her, and saw her eyes focused in on me. Not for the first time, I was awestruck by how direct they were. How green. They were almost too painful to look at.

"Mmm hmmm!" I agreed, and felt an experience unlike anything I had ever had. Her pussy grabbed my hands, clenching at them, squeezing them. I thought she was going to break one or two of them. Then I felt her cock expand just a little, and then contract, like a pump being primed.

Finally, I could feel the onslaught of her come rushing through her cock, underneath my hand wrapped around her base, past my lips, across my tongue, and then flood my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could, but she was too far into my mouth for me to do it properly, and some of it started to leak.

Now that I'm writing it all down, it's starting to dawn on me just what it was like. I mean, I've been trying to figure it out ever since, but it finally makes sense. She tasted like icing, Robert. You know the kind of icing that you find on cinnamon buns? Yeah, just like that. When Marie came, she tasted like icing.

She collapsed on me, and started kissing and licking my face. Some of her come had fallen down my neck, and I felt her tongue against my skin. I was overheated, and the sudden cool air that her tongue left behind made me shiver.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. All I could manage was, "Wow."

Marie smiled at me. "Next time, I want to fuck those gorgeous tits of yours," she said, crudely.

Even so, I couldn't help myself. I blushed, a feeling of pride that she thought my tits were gorgeous, and I suddenly wanted her to do that very much. I wanted her to do it right then. But in my post-orgasmic denouement my hibernating professionalism decided to come out of the cave.

"Oh god," I said. "What about John?"

"Oh, he'll give it up eventually," she said, pulling off her tattered panty hose. "We just have to get over his performance anxiety."

"No, I meant - " I said.

She flashed me that smile again, and her mischievous smile returned. "I knew what you meant," she said.

"Oh."

"Sorry, babe," she said, making her final clothing adjustments. "John's got something you just don't have."

"I wasn't referring to me," I said, offended. "I meant he's a patient of mine. And he's been waiting outside all this time."

"Yes, you were," she said, calling my bluff. "You most certainly were talking about yourself. However, I'm going to take care of John. I'm going to tell him that I fucked you."

"Wait, what?"

She looked down at her legs. "What, you think I can suddenly explain how I came in with underwear and am leaving without it?" she asked me as if I was a child. "He's not the brightest bulb in the box, sure, but he's not that dumb."

I had flashes of losing my license. She read the concern on my face, and her expression softened. "Don't worry," she said, soothingly. "John doesn't know how it's supposed to work. I'll tell him that it's part of healthy sexual communication therapy, and he'll buy it."

"I can help," I said, softly. I couldn't believe I was going to do what I was about to do.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I can get him to let you take him, of his own free will," I said.

She looked surprised. "Oh?" she asked, a grin spreading across her pretty face. "How?"

Despite myself, I smiled. "Trust me."

I called John back into the office, and he came in and instantly smelled the sex in the air. "What the..." he said.

"John," I said in my best professional voice. "Please have a seat."

John sat down in the very place where I had just been fucked within an inch of my life. It was something so perverted, so naughty, that I think I might have a mini-orgasm at that moment.

"Marie and I have had a long conversation," I said. "And I can see what you have been talking about for these past couple of weeks."

Despite his uncertainty, he seemed to visibly relax. "I wasn't quite sure if you had been telling me the truth, so I needed to examine Marie for myself and make sure that you were being honest with me."

John looked upset. "Why would I lie?" he demanded. "I'm no liar, ya know?"

I raised a hand and showed him that everything was okay. "John," I said, "I know that. You were absolutely right."

"See?" he said to know one in particular. "I told ya."

"Yes, you did," I agreed. "And Marie and I had a very productive session, and I think I understand better what you are going through."

"Well, uh," he said, looking from me to Marie and back again. "Thank you, I think."

"It seems to me that your nervousness is perfectly normal," I began again.

"I ain't nervous!" he protested. "I'm, uh, well, you know..."

Eloquent as always. "Absolutely," I agreed; to what I had no idea. "So I think that there is actually a very simple solution for this problem."