BadKitty2: Every time.
Counselor21: And you do this while at work?
BadKitty2: Yes.
Counselor21: What would happen if you got caught?
BadKitty2: I’d get fired.
Counselor21: Does that worry you?
BadKitty2: Yes, but not as much as the urge and need to masturbate.
Counselor21: Have you tried not to give in to those thoughts?
BadKitty2: Doc. I’ve been down this road before. I try everything, but it’s like a smoker trying to quit. They are all on board until that need kicks in and then it’s all they can think about until they give in and smoke again. That’s exactly what it’s like. It becomes all-consuming and as soon as I reach completion, I feel guilty that I caved in yet again.
Counselor21: Would you be willing to come in for an in office visit? We need more time than we have on here to talk.
BadKitty2: No. I can’t. Its too embarrassing.
Before I could respond again, she was gone. Running a hand over my face, I sighed. Well, that had been interesting. Even after all the time I’d spent watching her, learning about her life, I hadn’t found that incredibly interesting history. When I’d been given my choice of sign ons, I’d picked 21. Simple. For many reasons that number was meaningful in my life. 21, legal drinking age. 21, also, the number for doggie style, my favorite position. I never wanted a woman to face me, I didn’t need her face, I simply needed her body. But that was about me, I should’ve been thinking about Alix, officially my new client.
Sexual addiction was a tough issue. So many people thought it was a joke and not nearly as serious as it could become. Seeing as she had already been through the program once, she knew what she had to do. It was my job to simply help her get her head back in the game and find the tools to resist again. Keeping myself impartial was going to be the challenge. Looking at the clock, I closed the laptop. It was time for my appointment.
Taking the elevator down a few floors, I let myself into the room I normally used. A quick look around let me know the room was ready.
Anthony and Megan were a young couple that, unlike most of my couples, never had a good sexual past. They were always on different wave lengths when it came to being intimate, but everything outside of the bedroom was great. When they first came to see me, they had come in because they were afraid lack of passion was going to affect their ability to get pregnant. After six months of trying, they hadn’t been successful so they hoped making it more pleasurable for both of them it would also increase the possibility of getting pregnant.
I didn’t know about all that. They say when both partners experience an orgasm during sex it helps sperm in some way. Not my department. The last thing I wanted was a baby so I did what I always did. Found a way to make both of them happy. Most of my patients were more afraid to share their deepest, darkest desires with their partner than having actual physical or mental issues that kept them from being able to perform.
After having a quick meeting with each of them, I let them have at it. Megan had wanted to have Anthony be more dominant in the bedroom. Anthony didn’t want to hurt his wife, not at all. Baby steps, one thing at a time, I’d told him. Leaning against the wall, I watched as they fucked doggy style. Anthony gathered her hair in his fist, tugging back slightly.
“More,” Megan moaned in response.
Anthony looked over his shoulder to gaze at me, stopping all movement. His eyes were wide and wild as if he didn’t know how to.
Stepping up to the side of the bed, I grabbed his free hand and put it on her shoulder, then wrapped my hand around the one that was filled with her hair and pulled ever so slightly back.
“Hold her shoulder, pull her back to you. Don’t be afraid to slowly pull harder on her hair. Her moans will tell you when you’ve reached her threshold,” I instructed him as he started to thrust again. I returned to my position against the wall. While seeing people have sex didn’t bother me, most of them didn’t like it when I stood too close.
I zoned out, thinking of what my night was hopefully going to bring. It would be nothing like the tame, slow, loving caresses and fucking that was playing out in front of me. However, it did make my cock twitch excitedly in my pants. The simple thought of getting my hands on Alix had the corners of my lips curling. I shoved away the images of her tied up that were floating through my mind, making me anxious for the rest of the day to pass. It would come soon and I’d finally get the chance to intimately know the enticing brunette.
Chapter 5
Alix
As Jennifer and I had sat taking in the various acts around the room, I couldn’t stop thinking about touching myself. I hadn’t had the urge to do that without having mystery man on my mind since I’d gotten out of rehab. Shifting in my seat, I tried adjusting my legs, but all that did was make my swollen lips rub against my pulsing clit. No matter where I looked, there was a sexual act taking place. I couldn’t escape my thoughts, the need that burned through my body. Finally I couldn’t take it any more and excused myself from Jennifer. I couldn’t very well have her come with me to the bathroom when I went to release the built-up tension.
Once in the bathroom, I quickly locked myself into one of the small stalls and rubbed my clit fast and hard. I didn’t want it to feel good, I didn’t want it to leave me gasping and wanting more. I just wanted the thoughts to subside and let me regain control over myself.
Coming to the club had been a bad idea. I should never have agreed to go out. Then again, I didn’t know we would be going to a club where people were being spanked and tied up. Although it was like walking into a real version of many of my dreams, I couldn’t control my thoughts and desires, couldn’t keep them from spinning wildly down the path I fought so hard not to go down again.
Adjusting my dress, I washed my hands and peeked into the hallway to make sure no one might have overheard me. I hadn’t yelled out with my release, but I was jumpy after having given into my need for release in a public place. It wasn’t the act, especially considering there were people doing much naughtier things in the open. It was the fact that I’d hidden it and felt ashamed of what I’d done. Just as I was stepping out, large hands wrapped around my mouth and waist, pulling me against a hard body. Panic rushed through my body in an instant, until the sexy, hoarse, British voice spilled down my neck. Although his hands held me firmly, they didn’t hurt, didn’t grope — simply kept me in place.
He knew what I had done in the bathroom. How? I didn’t know. Didn’t matter, I was too embarrassed to argue when he didn’t believe my initial nervous denial.
Making me call him sir had my knees weakening. I might call men “sir” daily, but it was different when the man holding me demanded it. My pussy clenched, wet for him from that single word alone. Yet he wouldn’t give me his name. An admirer. No one admired me from near or far. There was nothing to admire about me. I was a basket case with more issues than any sane man would stick around to deal with.
Without hesitation, I gave him my name even as I mentally slapped a palm to my face. I hadn’t meant to, but it was out of my mouth without a thought out of habit.
I could feel his erection pressing against my ass, but he didn’t try to grind it on me. I don’t even know that he realized we were pressed that firmly together that I could feel it.
A nip to my ear had a gasp escaping my lungs as he gave me instructions to return to him. Then he was gone.