The Doctor is In

Marcy Lyles was finishing up the case notes from her recent therapy session when her receptionist knocked on her office door.

"Come in!" She called out.

Sara opened the door and waddled in, pregnant belly first. She had a file in her hand and brought it to Marcy's desk, saying as she laid it down "Here's a list of candidates for the intern position that the university is sending over, and their resumes in order of their scheduled interview times." She put both hands on her stomach as she looked around the office that she had already made pristine. "Is there anything else you need? Do you want me to stay until they all get here?" Sara asked hopefully. Going home today meant her maternity leave started, and maternity leave starting meant her baby was coming soon, and Sara was reasonably terrified about it.

But Marcy waved her hand at Sara, shooing her towards the door. "No, go! Enjoy your maternity leave. I know you're nervous about the labor and having the baby and all that that entails, but you'll have to find something else to keep your mind off it." She smiled warmly at Sara. "Bring all the baby photos and videos when you come back."

Marcy was left alone, and she leaned back in her desk chair and leafed through the resumes. She had a long afternoon ahead of her.

***

Marcy heaved a sigh and rubbed her temples. One more interview to go, and then she had a few days to pick who was to help her. There was a promising young woman who seemed to be here for the right reasons that Marcy would probably choose.

Marcy Lyles wasn't your run of the mill therapist. Also technically she was a psychiatrist, but the term therapist just seemed more palatable. She specialized in a field that was overlooked at times, exaggerated in the media, and maybe a little fetishized. She was a sex therapist. Typically, her clients were couples that were trying to reignite the spark or keep it alive, but she also had other clients that were there for various reasons such as rehabilitation after an assault, trouble figuring out their sexuality, trouble accepting their sexuality, and many others.

Most of the interns she had run through didn't seem to want to be there to actually help people, like she did. They were just there because it would be fun to work around sex, legally.

And then, the last candidate walked in. His resume said he was Logan Harris, aged 23. He was still an undergrad, psychology major, with the intention of going onto graduate school. She hadn't had high expectations for him. As sexist as it sounded, she was expecting him to be there for the fun, not to really help.

But to her astonishment, the interview went well. He seemed a nerdy sort - and she meant that in a complimentary way. She was a nerd herself, at all. He genuinely seemed interested in helping people. She was drawn to him, unexpectedly. He was quite adorable.

He did seem vague about why this was the perfect spot for him to help, though, so Marcy had to be sure he knew what he was getting into.

"You're aware of the therapy I specialize in?" Marcy asked, her elbows on her desk as she leaned forward, relishing the way Logan's eyes darted to the cleavage that flashed as she did so, not understanding her need to rattle him. He looked so proper and put together for a college student; his charcoal trousers had obviously been ironed, as was his crisp white button up shirt under his tan blazer. His glasses were the old school round kind, and seemed perfect for his face. His eyes were so green, his messy, tousled brunette hair looked like his fingers were constantly running through it.

Logan blushed a little bit, and Marcy wasn't proud to admit it, but it turned her on. Just a tad. A smidge. An iota. "Yes, I know what type of therapy you specialize in," he answered. "I was very much hoping for this internship, actually. I would like to have access to some more books on the subject. Hoping for..." but he trailed off.

"Hoping for what, Logan?" Marcy prodded. His blush grew, and Marcy felt a kick in her pulse again.

"Hoping to..." he trailed off again, but found the courage to finish his thought. "Hoping to figure out why I am the way that I am. Why I... why I like what I like."

Marcy kept her expression impassive, but she couldn't help the next jolt of arousal that slid through her. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going, and now it made sense why she was so instantly attracted to Logan. He was exactly her type. She must have just sensed it.

"What do you mean?" She asked in a brusque, professional tone.

"Well, you s-see," he stammered, biting his lip and looking away before he could continue, "most guys seem to... well, most guys that are straight like... like to be in charge."

"In charge of what?" Marcy prodded again.

Logan looked back at her with wide eyes, and answered "You know..." and it was like he was pleading with his eyes to not make him say it out loud. Marcy simply raised an eyebrow and waited for him to realize yes, she was going to make him say it. "In... in the bedroom. Sexually. With women."

Her nipples hardened at the scandalized way he whispered sexually. "But not you?" She continued.

Logan dropped his gaze again, this time to look at his hands crossed in his lap. "No," he said so softly she could barely hear him. "I like... I don't like being in charge."

Logan's head jerked up when he heard Marcy's chair squeak as she rose from it, and watched as she walked around her desk to sit on it, right in front of him, barely a foot between her legs and his. Her legs, that were encased in sheer hosiery, and Logan couldn't help the twitch in his cock at the thought of them being thigh high stockings. She crossed one leg over the other and her skirt rode up just a little bit and he almost bit his tongue at the confirmation of little lacy tops peeking out from under.

Marcy placed her palms on the edge of the desk and leaned forward over her crossed legs, and she could see Logan gulp hard as his eyes crept up from where they had seen the end of her stocking to the cleavage now so much closer to him and better disposed.

"So you like being told what to do instead then, is that right, Logan?"

Logan's eyes rose to meet Marcy's, and he just nodded, not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking. Even though he was long past puberty, sometimes in high stress situations, it still warbled a little. And this seemed to qualify as a high stress situation. Logan was almost positive Dr. Lyles wouldn't want such an acquiescent intern. She probably expected her men to be actual men, burly, confident, aggressive. Logan's eyes started to drift down as he realized he was probably about to be dismissed.

And his eyes widened almost cartoonishly as he was greeted by the sight of her stockinged foot starting to rub up his leg, first over his pants, and then after a stroke or two of that, trying to burrow her foot under his pant leg to stroke his bare shin. His cock, which was almost in a perpetual state of half arousal due to it not getting much use, was now all the way hard.

"Do you only like to take orders in the bedroom?" She questioned, using his phrase from earlier. "Or are you good at obeying commands in other places as well?"

His eyes snapped up to her, but she didn't reveal any thoughts on her face, so he stammered out an answer. "Oh, well... uh, I.... Uh." Yes, brilliant, Logan, he thought to himself - but then he wasn't thinking at all because her foot had moved from his leg to right over the crotch of his pants. He went rigid at the first gentle touch and couldn't help but let out a moan as the pressure increased, as she pressed her foot down on him a touch harder.

"For instance, if I asked you," Marcy went on, "to spread my legs on this desk and eat my cunt until I cream all over your face, what would you do? What would you say?" She bit her lip a little, knowing she could get into a little trouble here. After all, he was an intern sent from the university. But she wasn't his professor, he was legal, and she wasn't paying him, so it was more of an ethical gray area, not anything actually illegal.

But good God, this college student in front of her was ripe for the plucking. Shy, submissive, smart, and adorable - Marcy wanted to use him as much as he'd let her, and let him use her in return.

The way his jaw went slack and his eyes glazed over, though, his tongue flicking to his top lip like he was imagining the taste of her on his lips right then and there - Marcy sighed, wishing she could have a picture of that exact look to fuel future fantasies. Even if he said no - which she doubted he would, considering the same lust she felt was reflected in his heavy lidded eyes - that face made the risk worth it.

"You... I... what?" Logan drifted out of his initial reaction.

"I guess maybe you're not as good a listener as I first thought," Marcy tsked. She removed her foot from his crotch and Logan almost whined at the loss, and wanted to defend himself as she stood up from the desk - but he couldn't speak as she hiked up her skirt around her hips. Her flesh colored stockings with their lacy edges wrapped around mouth wateringly thick thighs, and his eyes traced up those thighs to the apex - which was covered by dark blue satin. He continued to watch as she sat back on the edge of the desk and spread her legs, putting one foot on each of the arms of his chair.

Then she pulled her panties to the side and repeated her demand. "Eat my cunt until I come all over your face, Logan. Now."

And Logan didn't have to be told twice.

He didn't dive in, per se, but he definitely showed some eagerness as he went to his knees and closed the distance to her spread pussy. She was already glistening, already so wet, and his cock ached. He reached a hand down to rub against the mound in his pants -

"Uh uh uh," Marcy scolded, using the hand that wasn't keeping her panties pulled to the side to wag a finger in his face. "If you're a good boy, I might let you have some fun with what you've got in your pants, but first you have to earn it." She used that wagging finger to trace his bottom lip, her eyes locked on his. "If I have to say the words again, you'll be punished," she promised softly. "Eat my-"

But she broke off with a moan because Logan had closed the crucial distance and his tongue was slipping up and down her pussy lips. Her hand went to the back of his head, and she held him still while she ground herself against his face, smearing her juices just all over him. He groaned low in his throat, loving it, before he did the same thing on his own, his tongue out licking what he could, his nose bumping over her clit.

Marcy decided this position wasn't going to be enough. She wanted to establish her dominance with him, and there was only one way she wanted to do that with him right now.

She used her foot to push Logan back, her heel on his shoulder, and he reluctantly moved back, looking bereft, like a boy whose favorite dessert had been snatched from him.

"Wha-" he started to whine but he stopped talking as she got off the desk and shoved the items off her desk - luckily her laptop was already put away, only folders, an almost empty to go coffee cup, and her cup full of pens got the boot.

"Lay down on your back," she commanded as she pulled him to the side of her desk. He did as she asked, sitting on the edge of the desk before leaning back until he was fully reclined. Her desk was big enough that there was still a good foot between the top of his head and the edge of the desk.

Logan groaned as he felt her crawl up his body, both of them still fully clothed except she must have taken her panties off while he laid down - he knew because she worked her way up his body until she straddled his head, her bare pussy staring him in the face.

"If you need to breathe, tap my feet," was all the warning he got before she used her pussy to smother his face.

Logan either had great instincts or he knew what was expected of him when a woman straddled his face, Marcy thought, because this boy was doing exactly what she needed. She bore down on him, rubbing her pussy against his face similar to before, and he licked her everywhere. She ground her clit against his nose, he is tongue was at her entrance and then he stiffened it and it was inside her and she was fucking herself on it and it felt so good. He moved his lips to suck at her clit and she almost went off.

"That's so good, baby," she praised, prying open her shirt so she could pull her bra under her tits, squeezing them, pinching and pulling and rolling her nipples. He flicked his tongue against her clit while he sucked on it and she moaned, loudly, "more, give me more, baby, and you'll get such a good treat."

He tapped at her feet and, disappointed but understanding - a boy had to breathe, after all, and she was definitely smothering him with her cunt, she lifted up - and he quickly worked his arm under one of her legs, then shoved two fingers inside her while sucking harder than before on her clit

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," she chanted as she rode his fingers and his mouth. "I'm so close, baby, you're gonna make me come so hard, and you better clean it all up."

He inserted another finger inside her tight wet hole, and then against her clit, he began a flicking motion with his tongue, faster and faster his fingers and tongue worked until he wrenched her over the edge.

"Yeeeeeeeeees," she wailed, her head thrown back, as she jerked up and down on his face, fingers pinching her nipples almost brutally. The sensations kept coming, wave after wave, as she ground herself against his face again. The waves started ebbing, she started to come down from her orgasm high, and she slowly opened her eyes and looked down at him.

His face was flushed and as she sat back on his chest, moving her pussy off his face, she could see just how much she drenched him.

She felt movement behind her, and she quickly jerked her head around to make sure no one was coming into the office - even though the door was on the other side.

The movement that she had sensed was him. He had opened his pants and pulled out his straining cock to jerk off, which he was doing, viciously.

He had a nice sized cock. Thick, with a curve, its head was almost purple, he was so turned on. He was using the hand he had fingered her with, her juices being used as lube. He gripped his cock hard, almost too hard, it seemed, almost punishing. His hand was sliding up and down his cock so fast, his balls - bigger than average, and she imagined full with cum ready to burst - bouncing with the movement.

She moved off him and the desk so she could stand and lean over, watch better, see all of him - his tongue creeping out to taste her cream that was all over her face, his hand working himself so good, his hips starting to move, rutting into his fist, pre cum practically drooling out of his dick, providing more lube.

Marcy leaned farther, into him, nuzzling his neck, licking his ear, breathing these words into it: "I bet that feels so good, huh, baby? You liked being used to make me cum, didn't you? It got you so hot and hard. Look at how hard your cock is, look at how much you're leaking. Do you hear how that sounds? Your wet hand jerking off your cock? It sounds obscene. It looks worse."

Logan moaned and the speed of his hand and the sounds increased, if that were possible.

"It looks like you're enjoying your treat for making me come so hard," she continued to whisper into his ear, as she reached a hand down to fondle his balls. "Mmmm, these look so full of cum. Are you ready to cum? Would it make you cum faster if I told you I'm going to get you hard again after you cum? So I can use your cock to get me off this time?" She rolled his balls in her hand as she spoke and he gasped.

He was close, she could tell.

"You like being used, don't you?" He nodded jerkily as his hand became a blur on his cock. "Makes you feel dirty, doesn't it, to be used? Like a toy? Do you want to be my little fuck toy, baby?"

"Yes," he rushed out. "Yes, please, I want to please you."

"You will," she assured him. "I'm gonna make you such a good little toy. But first," she paused. "You didn't wait for me to give you permission to touch your cock."

His eyes widened as he looked at her. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, not stopping his stroking. "I c-couldn't help it...you looked so hot, and you tasted so good, and the sounds you made were so sexy..."

"Your sounds are so sexy, too, baby, I totally understand."

He looked relieved.

"But I'm still going to have to punish you."

His eyes widened, but before he could respond, he

moaned loudly, his hips started jerking, he arched off the desk, and cum spurted out of his cock.

Marcy watched, riveted, her arousal coming back in full force. His cum came out hard, in 2, 3, 4 spurts, landing on her desk, his clothes, the floor, before continuing to dribble out and down the sides of his cock. The hand he had used was still around his cock, although the grip was significantly looser, almost barely touching, at the base of his cock.

She looked back to Logan's face; his eyes had closed during the orgasm, he was still twitching and jerking.

His erratic breathing slowed back to a normal pace, his eyes slowly opening and finding hers.

Marcy leaned closer and touched her mouth to the corner of his lips, licking out to taste some of herself that was still on him. "Now you'll have to be punished for coming without permission, too."

And just like that his breathing stuttered again.