Summer Money

Copyright 2000 Del Edwards

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His regular therapist would be vacationing in Europe for two weeks and explained that she wanted him to continue with a substitute therapist because he was doing well and she didn't want to break the continuity of his progress.

She commented that the substitute was a bit younger and married so there would be some differences in approach but that she was quite good and not be alarmed when she handcuffed him. She had smiled when she said that and added, "Having another woman before you will be the beginning of an ever expanding horizon. Work as hard for her as you do for me and you will benefit."

He had two standing appointments each week, Tuesday and Friday. He didn't think much about the substitute until he was on his way to the Tuesday appointment. An emotional inventory found anxiety mixed with curiosity. If the substitute was going to continue in the vein Judith, his regular therapist had set, he would end up naked, masturbating in front of this woman he had never met. God, I'm just a common flasher he thought for a moment and then reminded himself this was a therapeutic setting and he was paying her a lot of money to watch.

He wondered if she would drop her skirt and parade through the session wearing only a garterbelt, stockings and heels the way Judith did. She was right though, it did make him feel a lot less inhibited since she was kind of naked too. Judith always left her jacket on and put on the wedding veil just before she dropped her skirt. What would the differences be today?

Her smile was warm but brief as she turned to him after bidding the previous patient goodbye. She held out her hand and gave him just her first name...Teresa. He rose, took her hand and found it small and not cold. He remembered this was a woman he was shaking hands with, not a man. He kept it gentle and rolled his palm up so he could have moved her hand to his lips if he had wished to do so. Her clear, luminous brown eyes engaged his and for a moment there was a power struggle. Quickly she won though she was a foot shorter and didn't weigh more than 115 pounds. Her chestnut brown hair was short and had just a hint of auburn to it. She was slim and firm under her sleeveless denim sheath.

She motioned him into the inner room, followed him and closed the door behind her. She settled into the chair were Judith often sat when she was not perched on the footstool before him or sitting on the couch beside him.

Teresa told him she had read his file and would be working toward two specific objectives during their four sessions together. He nodded uncertainly. She seemed to be in a very professional mode. He was examining her face and body from a purely personal position. She was not a beautiful woman in the classic sense, more handsome and intriguing in a very delicate yet solid sort of way. He saw the muscles in her left cheek quiver and twitch. And he saw the slight frown as her brow tightened...she hoping he had not seen her weakness, the flaw in her professional façade. But he had.

He tried to be patient while she recited her credentials and experience. She rose from the chair and moved to an odd-looking piece of furniture in the center of the room. Pulling up the hem of her dress, she sat on the upper inclined seat, moved her lower legs just below her knees to the padded and upholstered platform that was inclined in opposition to the seat. He noted that she was bare-legged and lightly tanned as she positioned herself onto the strange stool, the hem of her dress two thirds of the way up her thighs.

"This is where I want you to be when you masturbate for meeeee."

That last drawn-out word was spoken as she dismounted the stool and might have been simply because she was somewhat off balance and exerting herself to regain her feet. However, he didn't miss the fact that she had placed a splay-fingered hand in her lap when she spoke the phrase '...where I want you to be...'

"There are two rules of conduct," she said. "First, that you follow my directions explicitly and without hesitation. Second, I can and will touch you but you may not touch me. Understood?"

He nodded in agreement.

"Good, take your clothes off," she directed.

He was totally naked, standing close to her. She had unbuttoned the four bottom buttons of her dress while he was undressing. His heart had fluttered then sank when she stopped at only four buttons. She sank into a deep squat in front of him, her legs spread wide, exposing the insides of her thighs. He realized she was doing it that way to help get him turned on. After taking half-dozen turns of a leather bootlace snuggly around the base of his scrotum she tied a single overhand knot and let the tails dangle between his thighs, tickling his knees.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"It will help you to not come," she replied. "If we were treating you for premature ejaculation we would have the surrogate or your lover tug on your scrotum each time you told her you were getting close to orgasm as a result of her stroking your penis. It's a great technique for increasing intimate communication as well as conditioning the man to last longer. Long answer to a short question, huh?"

"Maybe, thanks," he replied.

Teresa nodded toward her strange stool in the middle of the floor. Standing behind him as he mounted the stool for the first time, she pulled gently on the ends of the lace. He felt the pressure on his scrotum increase as she pulled his balls under him.

"Now settle slowly," he heard her say from close behind him.

There was no pain but a great awareness that took the center of his being to where his limp penis hung alone. She handed him the familiar Spritz bottle filled with baby oil, rested her small, warm hand on his shoulder and instructed, "Begin to play."

He lubricated his penis and began to slowly pull on it with his right hand. He concentrated on the pleasant sensation he was giving himself, as he looked straight ahead. She was standing just to his left, beside him but facing in the opposite direction, her left hand on his left shoulder. When he felt himself begin to swell, he looked up at her. She nodded encouragement and her right hand toyed with the top button of her dress. He willingly changed to stroking his hardening pleasure rod, cradling it in the palm of his hand with his thumb riding lightly along the top.

He made it large and hard hoping he could fill her with it the way he had his regular therapist for the last several weeks.

Teresa had stressed the importance of not orgasming. Also, she urged him to have as much pleasure as possible at his own hand. In just a few minutes he was moaning as his regular therapist had taught him to do and short stroking just the base of his shaft to avoid putting himself over the edge. Teresa was standing behind him now and had added her right hand to his right shoulder.

Her voice was close to his ear when she said, "Rise up so the reins will be slack."

The odd stool allowed him to raise his butt while supporting his entire body with just the front of his lower legs just below the knees and his toes on the floor. His balls were still contained but now not strained.

"Be very careful not to come," she warned as she pushed down on his shoulders forcing him onto the seat.

She remained behind him out of his sight with her hands on his shoulders as he moaned and stroked himself for the next 15 minutes.

He was infinitely aware of the moment when her hands left his shoulders.

"Raise up, I'm going to rein you in," she announced.

When he did he felt the steady tug as she again pulled his taught scrotum under him.

"Settle slowly," she ordered.

She let him go on for a couple of minutes and then told him to put his hands together behind his back. When he did he felt her swiftly handcuff him. It was done before his memory could pull up Judith's comment about letting the substitute handcuff him.

There he sort of sat, in more than on the odd stool, hands cuffed behind his back, a gleaming, oil-covered, rock-hard cock protruding proudly from his loins, sitting naked on his balls with a leather thong wrapped more than a few times around the base of his sack.

Teresa positioned herself in front of him and sank into that same deep squat, her knees outside his and her hands on his thighs. The insides of her widespread thighs converged to where her black panties covered her mound and crotch.

"I'll hold you while you die," she said as she took his shiny, hard cock in her left hand, the one with the wedding band on the ring finger. He heard himself moan with frustration and ended it with a growl of protest. She looked at him evenly and said, "I know you want to come, but not today. I want you to experience the frustration and embarrassment of going soft. That's the lesson for today. Besides, you had your sexual pleasure... by your own hand. Tell me I am unnecessary for your sexual pleasure."

He repeated the words to her and she nodded. "We will begin the same on Friday. The end will be different, I promise you."

When his erection was entirely gone she let go of his penis and opened the cuffs. He untied the thong and dressed while she sat in the overstuffed chair making progress notes. She sensed his motionless form standing a short distance away and looked up smiling. Again her widespread fingers touched her lap. "See you on Friday."

She had just dismissed him but he wanted to know so he asked. "What do you do when you're not doing this?"

She smiled, cocked her head and said, "I'm a social worker at a junior high school, a mom and a wife. I do this to pick up some extra money in the summer when school is out."

"So you're in it for the money," he observed flatly.

"More than that," she responded brightly, "I get the satisfaction of moving a man like you toward completeness."

"Thank you," he replied.

The following Friday she was wearing a paisley print dress, stockings and medium heels. He complimented her on her appearance, feeling under dressed in a knit shirt, shorts and sandals. Then he dismissed the little squawk of shame that was bouncing around in his brain, realizing he would be naked and masturbating in front of her in just a few minutes. Jeez, what a crazy world!

He found himself trying to see through her dress. There was a dark, brief bra but making out the exact cut of what was about her waist and hips was much more difficult. After she closed the door to the inner room she moved away from him to the bright light of the window. When she turned toward him he could see the silhouette of her fine legs under the dress. She had dropped her chin and was looking at him flirtatiously out of the tops of her eyes.

"It all matches," she said softly, "You'll see in a minute. Take off your clothes."

"All chocolate brown," she whispered as she pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist and then sank into that same deep squat so she could bind the leather thong to him. The elastic garter straps were slack against the tops of her thighs, waiting to retention when she stood up. The double-dark stocking tops were a third shade of warmth along with the bare skin above them. The stockings themselves were a proper shade of tan for wear during the day by this slight, firm woman who had so carefully dressed and trussed herself up.

The scene was much the same but changed after she handcuffed him. She squatted in front of him, removed the leather thong, installed a condom on him, muttered something about her hand not being sacred and jacked him into ecstasy, enjoying the hardness under her hand as he screamed and filled the rubber with his cum. Her throat was swollen from her own excitement and the sense of power she felt over him. She possessed his manliness in her hand and marveled at its size and hardness, knowing what she would do in exactly one week.

After he dressed he found himself again standing motionless with a question in his mind. When she looked up he asked, "Your husband doesn't object to you doing this?"

"He doesn't know everything I do," she responded, "he thinks it's just talk therapy." She saw the frown on his face and added, "I don't see what I just did to you as being unfaithful. If I was a doctor or nurse and handled your genitals as part of a treatment of some sort, you wouldn't think twice would you? What we're doing her is sex therapy, not love therapy. This may be confusing to you but during our time together I love you."

Another frown clouded his face.

"You love me?" he asked.

"Yes, I do. That lets me treat you with a warm heart and a clear conscience. Don't get the wrong idea about that. There's money and ethics involved here. Ethically I can't see you on a personal basis for one year after our last session. It's because of transference and countertransference. Aren't you a little bit in love with me right now because I literally reached out and took you to the level of ecstasy you've had trouble reaching with a woman?" she added.

"Yeah, I guess your right."

The next Tuesday she greeted him in the outer room wearing a black pantsuit and stiletto heels at least three and a half inches high. The jacket was tailored at the waist and showed clearly that she wore no blouse under it, an attractive vee of skin showing where it would have been.

"Go ahead and undress," she said as she twisted the bar of the deadbolt, locking them in the inner room together.

She stood anxiously with the leather lace in her hand waiting for him to finish. When he did she moved to him, sank into her characteristic squat and bound his balls quite tight. As she snugged the lace tight he wondered how excited she might be and if she ever felt any desire toward her patients.

"On the stool and make it hard for mheee," she breathed as she stood.

There it was again. Was the drawn out word because of the physical effort or was it an emotional scream. She had not moved away from him after she stood up. She was looking at him out of the tops of her eyes, almost submissively. He tried not to smile when she swallowed hard.

As previously he worked himself to near orgasm as she stood behind him with her warm hands on his shoulders. He waited in his pleasure, wanting to be handcuffed so she would appear before him and hold him. Finally she instructed him to put his hands behind his back. The cold cuffs captured his wrists. When she moved in front of him her jacket gaped open momentarily as she bent forward, her hands on his thighs for balance. As she sank into her usual squat he realized he had seen too much skin; she wasn't wearing a bra. After patting the oil from his yearning cock with a tissue, she put a condom on him and changed her position so she was on her hands and knees. Her head hovered just above his hard cock and then she took him in her mouth.

She was completely still, simply containing his aching cock in her mouth.

"Ahhhoow, is this gonna be another 'watch me die' thing?" he moaned. He saw and felt her nod her head slowly three times.

"Why'd you put the condom on me just to let me go soft?" he asked as he finished dressing.

"Just in case you were so close that you went off when I took you in my mouth," she replied evenly.

"Does this mean that you're gonna give me a blow job on Friday like you used your hand on me last Friday?" he asked.

"You're not likely to miss that appointment, are you," she said with a growing grin.

The following Friday she was in her denim jumper again but was wearing stockings and medium heel black sandals. The bulk and weight of the handcuffs was quite apparent in the right patch pocket of her dress. He guessed there was one or more condoms in the left pocket.

There was a mixture of anxiety and depression in him. She saw it too when he had difficulty producing an erection.

"Last time blues?" she asked, her mouth close to his ear as she stood behind with her hands on his shoulders. He nodded. "Raise up, I'll let you out a bit, she said.

Teresa moved in front of him and pulled the ends of the leather thong toward her so they dangled inside his thighs. Then she began to unbutton the denim jumper. When she was done she slowly sank into her usual squat in front of him. The weight of the handcuffs pulled the right side of her dress to her side revealing her black stocking top, part of her black string bikini panties and an unusual bra with gray mesh set into the black bands that formed the outline of the garment. He could see the darkness of her nipple under the mesh.

"A little something extra to get you going," she purred as she looked up at him out of the tops of her eyes. Two minutes later he was stroking his hard cock and moaning. She tugged gently on the lace ends reminding him not to come.

When there were but ten minutes of the 45-minute treatment hour left she gather-walked her fingers up the ends of the thong and removed it as he continued to stroke and moan. After she clicked the cuffs on his wrists in front of him she installed a condom on him and rocked forward onto her knees. She smiled at him, dropped her head and swallowed as much of him as she could. Starting slowly she increased her head-bob speed until he screamed. He was a gentleman she decided since he stayed on the stool and let her take him rather than rising and thrusting himself down her throat.

Teresa re-buttoned the denim jumper except for the four bottom buttons of the skirt. When he finished dressing their eyes met.

"Ahhhh, look...there's something I want to tell you, ahh, ask you...em, both," she stuttered backing up against the locked door of the inner room. She waved her hand in front of her shoulders with her palm toward him as if she were erasing an imaginary blackboard. "I ahh...didn't quite tell you the truth about me. I'm...I'm a single mom. I wear the ring but I think it only keeps the decent guys away. My boys have been at camp all week and I am totally lost and lonely without them. I don't want to be alone until Sunday morning when I drive over to pick them up. It's totally unethical but would you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?" she asked.

"I guess maybe we're not done yet, are we?" he said as he cocked his head to one side. "What else," he added.

"Oh, damn you!" she wailed as she hugged herself. "Can we come back here so you can hold me for awhile," she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm so terribly lonely."

"Just hold you?" he said.

"Maybe," she replied a second gush of tears on her cheeks.

"What if I want more?" he asked as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"What more?" she squeaked.

"Oh, let's say I wanted you to get on the stool and masturbate for me," he advanced.

"Aaaawggg," she said.

"Well, okay, what did you have in mind?" he asked.

"For...for you to fill me up. You're beautiful on that stool. I've been wet every time. I...I'll do a slow strip for you while you're on the stool and then come to you," she whispered.

The next evening they enjoyed wine, food and conversation during dinner. Then they went to the inner room, locked themselves in and enjoyed each other some more.

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