Sheeba's Cat Therapy

My jaw dropped. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Hey, all I know is that I like the name – Cat-tharsis. Ah ha-ha ha-ha ha-ha ..." Brian took another swig of beer and put the letter back on top of the refrigerator.

"But Brian, she's naked, and she was licking me, and I was touching her ... her ... you know ..."

"Her pussy? Ah ha-ha ha-ha ha-ha... Don't worry about it. The shrink said that it's all part of the process. She has to deconstruct her victimization and re-establish control of her sexual sovereignty, or some psycho-babble like that. He said that it's really important to go with the flow and be open about her body and her sexual responses. She has to learn to be comfortable with them and to be the one controlling the situation. Whatever you do, follow her lead and let her be in control. Besides, ..." He finished his beer in one last guzzle and then opened the refrigerator for another one. "... the shrink isn't cheap, and I don't want any set-backs. ... Hey, we're missing the game."

*** Contemplating Sheeba ***

Brian returned to the living room, and with the slapping sound of the chair reclining, I figured that he had settled back in, so I grabbed another beer and turned to the go back in the living room. But I hesitated. I heard a noise coming from the far side of the kitchen.

I walked over and found a partially opened door with some stairs that descended into a dark basement. In the dim recesses, I could hear the faint sounds of something moving – shuffling and skuttering, but I couldn't be exactly sure what it was. Had Sheeba sneaked by us and gone down there? I tried to concentrate on the sound, but it went quiet. I looked around for the light switch but couldn't see it. Eventually, I no longer heard any noise and gave up my vigil.

I sauntered into the living room and flopped down on the couch. I tried to get back into the game, but my mind wandered to images of a naked cat girl lying on my lap letting me run my hand all over her body. I was getting incredibly aroused, and I started thinking about making a surreptitious trip to the bathroom to ... release my tension.

I reached down and adjusted my pants. My firming member rubbed deliciously along the constraining material as I re-adjusted it to a more upright position. I visualized locking the bathroom door and hurriedly rubbing one off, while my hosts sat unknowingly next door. I knew it would have to be quiet and quick. It would have to be one of those orgasms that gets clenched in my throat while it pushes desperately against the neck muscles to escape. I would have to aim my hard pole awkwardly down towards the bowl as best I could despite its straining to point up at the wall over the tank. I might have to deflect the spurts with my hand to block the gobs of spitting cum.

Maybe the cat girl would already be in the bathroom when I locked the door. She would pad gingerly into the litter box beside the toilet, scratching at the granules to arrange a fresh patch. She would position herself carefully with her thighs spread. Her breasts would hang down, unguarded, between her outstretched, supporting arms. A delicate rivulet of pee would stream between her legs into the thirsty grains below, while a few droplets would spatter off to the side and run innocently down her inner thigh. Her soft, black, pubic fur would glisten with residue.

As I straddled the toilet bowl, stroking furiously on my anxious hard-on, Sheeba might lick teasingly on the back of a calf as she sprayed guilelessly onto the litter at her knees. I might even turn towards her at the right moment and shoot onto her back, my cum arching in the air and landing on her smooth, unprotected skin. The white ooze running across her ... Suddenly, a white figure entered my field of view, and my hand reflexively leapt off my lap and burrowed shamefully between the cushions of the couch.

*** Upstaging Sheeba ***

Karen had returned to the living room. When I revived and looked over in her direction, my eyes bugged out. She was wearing a white, floor-length, backless gown with spaghetti straps at the shoulders. I could tell that she was also wearing a small, white, lace G-string underneath it, because ... I could see it CLEARLY through the transparent material of the gown! My Gawd, she was practically naked in front of me. I scanned up her body and could not avoid seeing two lusciously heavy, nose-cone-shaped breasts pushing up under the gown and pressing two dark aureoles immodestly into the see-through fabric. I closed my mouth to prevent my tongue from slewing out.

"Uh hummm ...," Karen coughed as she posed provocatively between the couch and her inattentive husband. There was no response from the recliner. "Uh hummm!" she repeated.

"Huh?" Brian replied, failing to move his head in her direction.

"Brian!" Karen called out, "The coach wants to see you in the dressing room."

"Huh?" Brian repeated, still glued to the TV, "Yeah, I'll do the groceries at the commercial."

Karen placed her fists onto her hips and scowled. Then she turned to me, still not the least bit embarrassed. "Well," she sighed, walking over and sitting on my lap, "I guess that just leaves you and me, sweetie." She hooked her arms around my neck and gave me a big wet kiss on the lips that smacked audibly ... on purpose. But looking back across the room, she still detected no response from her spouse. She scowled again.

Karen's barely-covered, pink breasts hung temptingly just a short reaching-distance above my hand that was supporting her waist. She sighed and let her head wilt onto my shoulder. "He's having an affair with a stupid frozen sport," she confided to me with exasperation, "Does he have to do it in our living room in front of me?"

"You poor thing," I tried half-heartedly to console her but only succeeded in sounding trite.

She placed a hand on my jaw and swivelled my head around to face her. "You wouldn't ignore me to watch a game, would you Harvey?" she asked with a pout.

Far from it!! "I ... uh ... I can't say that I c-c-could," I stammered.

Her face lit up a bit, and her head lifted off my shoulder. An evil twinkle glinted in her eyes. I don't think she was reacting to what I had just said. Instead, I think she had just hatched an idea ... a really bad idea. "No, I don't suppose you would, Harvey," she said thoughtfully, as she leaned her head towards mine. She grabbed my jaw firmly and positioned it at an accessible angle. Then her lips began their assault.

Karen kissed my mouth relentlessly. Her lips encompassed mine and dragged softly over their surface, only to return again and again and again. Her kisses were wet, purposeful and loud – intentionally loud. She breathed in through her mouth each time that she lifted her lips off mine for another assault. The inhaled air gasped into her mouth needily, making an urgent slurping sound.

One of her hands snaked between our bodies and slid down the front of my pants. It wedged tightly between her outer thigh and my straining hard-on. "Oh my!" she exhaled into my mouth on detecting my state of arousal. She pulled her arm up and pushed down awkwardly to press firmly along my covered pole.

I lifted my arm to grab her hand away, but it banged into a figure that appeared from nowhere at my side. It was Sheeba. She had jumped onto the couch and was stretching her face up towards us. Her nose inched closer and closer to our energetic kissing, tentatively pressing in and then pulling back.

Karen took no notice of our new spectator. She seemed relentless and was, if nothing else, building up steam. Kissing and rubbing. Kissing and rubbing. I wanted to stop her, but Sheeba was now kneeling on my hand. My cock had expanded past the comfortable confines of my pants. I shifted my hips to relieve the pressure on it, but Karen used that opportunity to seize a better grip. Kissing and rubbing. Kissing and rubbing. I was now in danger of being taken to climax.

Sheeba started licking my cheek ... I really didn't need that. The numerous stimuli were overwhelming my senses. I moaned a bit when a few of Karen's successive strokes found a sweet spot on my shaft, and my reaction caused her to whimper into my mouth. Kissing and rubbing and licking. Kissing and rubbing and licking. I was about to give up control.

Then suddenly a siren sounded on TV, signalling the end of the game. "Hey!" Brian cried out as the recliner slapped upright, "What am I missing out on here?"

With the slamming of the chair, Sheeba jumped down off the couch and skittered off into the kitchen. Karen barely took a break to glance over her shoulder and say breathlessly, "You had [breathe] your chance, [breathe] fella." She turned immediately back to resume her molestation, but her weight abruptly lifted off of my lap. In a single brutish move, Brian had thrown her arm over his neck and lifted her fireman-style over his shoulder. "Well some guys are lucky enough to get second chances," Brian commented as he bounced her body up to adjust her balance. It had been an impressive lift; I hadn't expected him to be quite that strong.

Karen's arms and legs flailed melodramatically at Brian's front and back. "Put me down, you oaf," she wailed playfully. She had achieved her objective.

Brian towered over me with his wriggling caveman prize ... and every right to sock me in the mouth. "Hey, Harv, you know where the beer and your bed are. Stay up as late as you want. Karen'll come and get your for breakfast in the morning." Then he turned and sauntered towards the hall. "Come on, woman!"

"Gooood niiiight," Karen wished me in a whimsical, sing-song manner as she was carried away.

"Night, buddy," Brian said over his shoulder, raising his free arm up to give me a backhand wave.

"Night," I replied meekly as the two of them exited the room. All down the hallway, I could hear Karen shout teasingly for rescue, "Help! ... Help! ... Help! ..." Then a door slammed in the distance.

*** Foreknowing Sheeba ***

In the sudden stillness of the room, I breathed heavily as I slowly regained my composure. My over-stimulated cock throbbed in sync with my huffing. The game was over, and both of us were taking a breather on the bench.

The TV blathered across the room. "... Well, Danny, both sides got pretty physical towards the end," the post-game wrap-up show filtered into my consciousness, "But the home team just kept the visitors pinned against the boards. That made it pretty hard for the visitors. They almost scored right at the end, but the opportunity just didn't come. I'll bet they're feeling pretty frustrated right about now. ..." That pretty much summed it up all right.

I picked up the TV remote, turned down the volume and started flipping through the channels. In the distance to my left, I could hear the squealing and laughing of two people having a slap-and-tickle fight. ... They were ... romping! Yes, that was it – "romping." Boy, I haven't had a good romp in a long time.

In the distance to my right, I could hear a light lapping sound, and I guessed that it was Sheeba drinking from a dish of water on the kitchen floor. I thought for a moment. A naked girl on the floor on all-fours. That was something I really should see – not because she was naked but because of the psychological significance of the role-playing activity ... of a naked girl ... on the floor ... on all-fours. Besides, I was thinking that it was time to get closer to Sheeba – a lot closer.

I stood up and walked cautiously into the kitchen. My hard-on pressed firmly against my pants, and I had to shift it to be able to move properly. I heard a scampering sound, and when I looked over at the water dish, I saw that it had been abandoned. "Sheeba," I called out softly, "Here, Sheeba." But an open basement door informed me that my quarry had fled.

I stuck my head through the open door into the darkness beyond. I could hear more scurrying. It was probably just Sheeba, but the noise seemed to have multiple sources. I felt along the interior wall for the light switch but was unsuccessful again at finding it. "Sheeba," I called out one more time but with no response. My interest and erection waned, so I moved over to the refrigerator, grabbed another beer and returned to the living room.

I flopped back in resignation on the couch and stretched out. Carefully positioning the remote on my stomach for optimal flicking, I decided to devote my attention to finding a program to watch. Flick, flick, flick, flick, ... My cock was lying down and relaxing along with me. Our excitement was over for the night. Flick, flick, flick, flick, ... Let's look for something calming and cerebral, little buddy. Flick, flick, flick, flick, ... Oh! Wait a minute! I saw a breast. Go back, go back, go back.

Flick ... no. Flick ... no. Flick ... yamma hamma!! What was this? Slinky lingerie and exposed skin. This has got to be quality entertainment. On the screen, a number of attractive, nubile women were flitting about a dressing room, changing from lingerie into leotards. I wondered if they would start frolicking. Frolicking is a good thing – maybe not as good as romping but still very good.

I scrambled for the volume? "... brings you tonight's late-night feature, 'Supermodels.' Models by day; superheroes by night. No man is beyond their charm; no villain can escape their harm. These beauties fight crime with their powers and their celebrity. They're not just models – they're Supermodels. ... This film is rated M for mature audiences. Viewer discretion is advised. ..."

Yeeesss!! A classic-to-be! I reached down and pulled along the length of my flagging hard-on. "Wake up, little guy," I coaxed, "We've got 'partial nudity' and 'strong adult content' to watch. Stay up with me now."

Being a morally-challenged, gawking companion of mine, my cock did not hesitate to wake up and show signs of growing interest. It saw what I saw – classically trained actresses, an intricately crafted plot and ... curves! Barely covered, satiny-framed curves were being changed into barely covered, Spandex-squeezed curves! I rubbed the front of my jeans some more as a pair of jiggly buns separated by a small costume thong crossed the screen. Maybe it was a "superthong." I pushed on my penis roughly at its base, shifting it to one side of my shorts and making it drag across the inside material. It stretched out pleasurably. Hmmm ...

In my mind, the images of the costume-clad supervixens connected with thoughts of Sheeba to remind me of Catwoman from the campy 1960s' Batman TV series. ... Mmmm, I shifted my shaft to the other side of my pants. ... I had been lucky enough to discover Catwoman's seductive superpowers when I was going through puberty. ... I shifted my penis back again. The rub felt good. Mmmm. ...

Actually, I should have said "their" superpowers, since there were three of them. In the Batman movie, Michelle Pfeiffer may have been a pretty face, but from the TV series, she was no match for Lee Meriwether's long shapely body, ... Shift. Mmmm! ... Julie Newmar's sensuality, ... Shift. Mmmm! ... or Eartha Kitt's rolling verbal R's ... Shift. Mmmm! ...

Rrrroll those Rrrr's, Earrrrtha. ... Shift, shift. Mmmm! ... I could even hear Eartha purring in my ear, "Hrrrr, hrrrr, ...," and closed my eyes to imagine her exotic, tightly costume body. ... Shift, rub rub rub, rub rub rub. Mmmm! ... Yes, Earrrrtha, purrrr to me. "Hrrrr, hrrrr, ...," sounded in my ear again. ... Rub rub rub, rub rub rub. ...

I turned my head to let Eartha notionally lick my face. ... "Hrrrr, hrrrr, ..." And imagine seeing her beautiful, black, cowled face. I opened my eyes... There was someone actually there!! "AAAAHH, AAH, AAH!!" I threw myself against the back of the couch, and the remote flew onto the floor with a clatter. "Hrrrr, hrrrr, ..." Sheeba, squatting at the side of the couch where my head used to be, looked at me quizzically.

"Jeez, Sheeba!" I exhaled, "You scared the bejeepers out of me." I slumped back to my original lying position on the couch. My heart raced, and my hands shook from the excitement. Because of the way I had repositioned myself, my erection pushed uncomfortably against a fold in my pants. I shifted its position with my hand to free it, and since that felt so good, I gave it some more strokes to apologize for the fright.

*** Experiencing Sheeba ***

Sheeba rested her hands on the couch beside my waist and stretched her upper body up to check out what my hand was doing. Sniffing with her nose, she bent her face down towards the bulge in my pants. I pulled my hand away and watched her curiously.

She pulled her head back slowly but kept the bulge fixed with her stare. She then raised a hand above her head and cocked her wrist. I suppose that I should have been concerned by her stance, but as she concentrated on her pants-covered prey, I found my attention drawn to her soft breasts. Her two fleshy mounds were mushed gently into the side of my arm. I could feel the breasts' outline on my skin, the exact location of the nipples, and the ... Swat! My head swivelled over quickly.

Swat, swat ... Sheeba's hand batted playfully at my bulge and was, luckily, only making glancing blows. She jumped up on the couch and manoeuvred between my legs. Leaning her head down, she sniffed at the bulge again and then went back to toying with it. Swat, swat.

Eventually, she leaned a cheek on my groin and r-u-u ... r-u-u-bub-bub ... rubbed it along my sha-sha-shaft towards my hip ... nnghh ... as if she were scent-marking my penis. The rub was long and firm, and I could feel an intimate pressure travel up the inside of my shaft. Then she flipped her head over and made the same long r-u-u-ubbb with her other cheek. Mmmm ...

Abruptly, she turned her attention to my face and fixed on my eyes. It was if she had switched into hunting mode again. She crawled up my body but never took her stare off of me ... never even blinked. She walked her hands and arms up either side of my body and neared my face. I could hear her purring grow louder with her approach. Her breasts dragged on top of my torso, and her knees lifted over my thighs to straddle my hips. When her face was over mine, she dropped her body on top of me – her groin on top of my penis, her breasts smushed into my chest, her arms crossed over my throat. I was pinned.

Now that she had me where she wanted me, she took her time. She looked around the room distractedly and panted, like a lioness recovering on top of the body of her downed prey. Eventually, she looked down at my face with confident curiosity. She batted playfully at my mouth with one of her hands and then licked my lips tentatively. Her lick was followed by another longer one ... and then another one. Lick, lick, lick, lick, ... I tried to lick back, to open my mouth, to kiss her tongue, but I was simply overwhelmed by her assault.

Then, her hips started to rock. Her vagina pressed onto my shaft through my jeans and slid along it forcefully. The material of my shorts heated up my cock with the friction. I felt an urgency building in my groin.

Lick, lick, lick, rub, rub, ... The mauling was purposeful and unrelenting. Lick, lick, lick, rub, rub, ... I thought that I could feel a wetness seeping into the material of my pants and moistening my cock. I placed my hands onto the silky smooth skin of her back and slid them down to her slippery bottom. As she pushed her groin into me, I could feel the soft flesh of her cheeks clench and then release. I started thrusting against her movement, and the pressure travelled down my penis and into my balls.

And then she stopped. Sheeba raised her body, manoeuvred around and adopted her original position between my legs. "Yeow," she called out and nosed into my balls. "Yeow, yeow," she repeated and intimately nosed me again.

I got the message but felt strange about it. By reflex, I scanned the room to make sure no one else was watching. Then I reached down and unfastened my pants. Sheeba sat up, poised. I hiked them down, and as my little head poked out into the open, Sheeba batted at it playfully. I awkwardly rocked and lifted my hips, as I shifted and shimmied my pants down to mid-thigh.