The Therapist! (Jack Stalker and SlySideEye)

[Jack Stalker]

THE THERAPIST!​

Thomas Weatherstone was a wealthy lawyer who knew all too well the consequences for his finances, should his wife, Heather, discover his near insatiable need to fuck had turned him into an adulterous bastard. Sure, they'd started off fucking like any normal couple, but after the honeymoon period Heather, like so many women, had slowly lost interest in sex over the years. Pregnancy, the menopause, perhaps a developing interest in other men or women? It didn't matter, all that mattered was that Tom needed to find other avenues of release... and find them he did.

As he was still in his prime he diverted his attention to fucking his clients, his interns, his secretary, his wife's sister... and on occasion, while entertaining prospective clients, he ended up fucking escorts, lap dancers, even girls working at his firm on work experience. He was a rich charming man who knew how to convince a woman to fuck, or maybe it was his boyish looks and charisma which won the day? In any event there was no shortage of women he could get access to... and it was becoming dangerous. If his wife found out he would lose millions in the divorce settlement, money he needed for offshore deals and pay offs to judges to keep him at the top of his game when it came to getting people acquitted. It took more than skill these days, it took knowing the right people and having enough money to pay them off. It brought in better returns and maintained his reputation...

...a reputation which would be in tatters if he ended up getting caught fucking around. Scarlett might understand his need to shove it in whoever he could, but she would never tolerate it, not when the divorce settlement would be her ticket to freedom.

So he sought out secret therapy sessions, looking to cure himself of his need to fuck so many women... and surprisingly it worked.

At least in a way.

Instead of wanting to fuck every hot pair of legs he saw walking by, now all he wanted to do was plough open his therapist, a Dr Naomi Watson, and make her scream on the end of his cock. As soon as he saw the hot middle aged blonde he knew he wanted her, knew he wanted to fuck her, knew he wanted to feel her writhing on his cock until she exploded, virtually pissing an orgasm al lover him. He was hard from the start of their sessions to the end, answering questions, telling stories, behaving normally as he could, when inside all he wanted to do was tear off her clothes and fuck her raw. He knew it was wrong, he knew he had to get a hold of himself, otherwise he could end up in a worse situation than he was in right now.

He'd bumped into a woman at a casual get together after work just two weeks ago, she worked for a rival law firm... they exchanged stories and he thought about Dr Watson's advice in weening himself off of multiple encounters, about whittling down his indiscretions, about getting a hold of himself and limiting his adulterous dalliances. Maybe that was why, when he was fucking the young woman in the toilets... Elle was it? All he'd been thinking about was what it would be like to ejaculate into Naomi's tight cunt, about how it would feel. He knew he needed to control himself, but it was so difficult when your therapist was hotter than any woman you'd ever fucked, even your wife, even the young trainee's seeking to screw their way up a corporate ladder.

He arrived early for his session, an evening one set to be conducted after a hard days work. He'd been throwing himself into a divorce case recently, teasing his willpower with an attractive African woman, seeking a profitable settlement against her cheating husband. It was a stark reminder of what awaited him if he didn't get his cock and his hunger under control. He needed someone who could deal with his lust, his cravings, his desires, eh needed someone who could satisfy him like his wife no longer could.

Tom breezed past the reception desk, thankful that Dr Watson had employed a male assistant, (at least on days when he had an appointment, anyway). Waving away any protests he opened the door and strode in. If she was busy he'd be annoyed, if not relived, in any event he spoke up. "Dr Watson, Naomi... I realise I'm a little early, I do apologise, but it's urgent." he displayed a charming smile. "I'm sure you have a barrage of questions ready for me and I have a few of my own... the sooner we get started, the better." He let his gaze roam about her, assessing her outfit for today, unashamedly seeking out any glimpses of leg in something revealing, a show of ankle, a hint of her shape in something figure hugging, taking solace in what she was wearing, using it to temporarily feed his desire and help him to maintain control.

'Fuck her! You know she wants it, they all do, they all crave a good hard seeing to, one their partners can't give them'

'Down boy...she's here to help us'

He waged a mental battle, barely winning it, as he waited to see if this would be the session to cure him, or push him over the edge.

 

[SlySideEye]

It wasn't like Naomi hadn't ever had a sex dream about a client, she had. Naomi figured she had a slightly above average sex drive for a woman and a stray dream now and then wasn't anything to worry about. However it wasn't one of those dreams that popped up out of nowhere, more and more her waking thoughts were occupied with Tom Weatherstone as well. She hesitated, naked in front of her open underwear drawer. She reached for a white bra, almost matronly but also remenisicent of vintage playboy and slipped on a lacy pair of panties.

"Good morning," said her partner Ryan standing in the doorway of their bedroom. He was already dressed and ready for work. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Feeling a certain way, baby? Not helpful when I have a commute to get to."

She blushed, internally startled even though Ryan would have no reason to suspect the nature of her thoughts or last night's dream. His watch beeped in her ear and he said, "Shit. I gotta go. You look hot." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and hurried out the door.

She was distracted during her sessions in the morning and found herself nervously anticipating seeing Tom today. She'd settled on a brown skirt--tight and well above the knee and a modest creme colored blouse. Whatever urges she was having she had a duty as a professional to try and help this man which she believed she could do. If she fucked him she'd have to find him a new therapist, not to mention the trouble it would be with her and Ryan. Even if she was somewhat polyamorous leaning herself, her boyfriend of five years now was not and straying would hurt him. If only he had fucked her this morning, maybe she wouldn't have such an appetitie now. Naomi rummaged in back of her desk drawer for an old pack of cigarettes, a dirty on and off addiction of her own. She opened her office window and lit up, exhaling with relief.

Naomi was startled by a noise behind her and spun round to see Tom striding into her office. "Oh fuck. Shit." she exclaimed hastilly putting out the cigarette and waving her hands to eliminate any remaining smoke. She tried to be cautious of her image and didn't need clients knowing about her emotional crutches. "I'm sorry, I have a spray somewhere if the smell bothers you. You're early." She could feel his eyes on her. "Here sit down, please. What does urgent mean? Are you in any danger? We have to take these things seriously." Naomi sat in the office chair that sat between her desk and a couch. As she regained her composure she started to pick up on the energy Tom carried into the room. "This is your time to work on things, so say what you like. I'm here as a guide." she said calmly but knew there was tension visible in her body.

 

[Jack Stalker]

Tom grinned as he saw Naomi over by the window, hurriedly trying to cover up the evidence of her little breach of professional etiquette by indulging in her smoking habit. It was a sign that she might be inclined to abuse more than just the health and safety rules. He shook his head and gave her a reassuring and supportive smile. "I like the scent." he told her, letting his gaze start at her heels and slowly work its way up her body. The skirt she wore was shortish and he was convinced that it would ride up when she sat down, exposing even more of her incredible legs. It was a good choice, if she wanted to get his attention on her. Did she? He thought so... what woman wouldn't? He suspected she'd likely even gotten wet during some of his 'confessions'.

That thought was getting him hard already, although if he was honest with himself he had started to stiffen upon entering the elevator to come up to this floor. He couldn't help it, she was just so god damn hot! Briefly he wondered if she had dalliances with other clients, whether she had given in to the advances of others she had broken with her looks... whether she had even fucked them, here in her office, up against the wall, pounded into the couch, pushed against the window... whether she'd come in the en suite, or face down on the floor being prone boned. He wondered if some other client had hard fucked her, until she'd had a shattering and violently memorable orgasm...

...or whether he would be the first to do those things with her. To her. In his mind it was inevitable. He wanted her, why deny himself?

"There's really no need to cover up your vices on my account, Doctor." he said with a amused look. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of smokes, popping one into his mouth and taping out another to offer her. "It's good to see that you're only human, good to see we have a vice we can share... I mean it helps to bond with your clients, doesn't it? To share a common interest, a common like, a mutual vice." he continued, pulling out a lighter to spark up his own cigarette and offer the same opportunity to her.

He sat down opposite her, his eyes still roaming about her body, especially those legs, before he brought his gaze under control and fixed it on her face. "In danger?" he smirked a little, stifling a chuckle. "Kind of. I'm in danger of falling off the wagon, so to speak." he confessed, "There are so many temptations, so many women who command my attention, so many women who seek my attention... it's not simply a matter of controlling myself Naomi..." he addressed her more casually. "...it's a case of the women around me being unable to control themselves. I sometimes wonder if I don't give off pheromones that make me irresistible." he laughed softly, took a drag on his cigarette, looked about for an ashtray, got up and assumed the position she had been in at the window. "Though I have to confess, there's always been a certain pleasure in breaking someone, in coaxing them into a sinful coupling. After all, most women want excitement, thrills, that element of danger that makes sex with a stranger so exhilarating when all they've gotten used to is the boring predictable fumbling's of their partner." he shrugged.

Looking back at her he continued to grin. "Who can blame them? Who could blame me? I mean, at the end of the day, what's wrong with indulging in some pleasure from time to time, as long as it's discrete, private, faux danger that isn't going to trip you up?" he blew out some smoke. "Take this place, for example. I mean, if you were married, but looking to have some side fun, who would ever know if you fucked a client here? No one would tell, no one could see... and with a reputation like yours, respected and beyond reproach, you would never even be suspected of such depravity." he shrugged again, turning to look out of the window at the view of the city. They were high enough that he figured no one down there would hear anything that took place up here.

He paused thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, work on things. Guide. Hmmm. I need an outlet for my energy, my lust, my cravings. Someone who would know how to be discrete, private, personal. Someone who would keep their mouth shut. I've an intern who is tempting me, a new client who looks to be desperate to be fucked, the neglect is palpable every time she visits for a consultation and wears clothes more suited to a street corner hooker." he gave Naomi another look over, "Not like yourself, Naomi. While you dress sexily, it's more low key, more subtle, a skirt that's just the right length, until you sit down and cross your legs, a top which is concealing, until you look at it from just the right angle and notice the spaces between the buttons. Heels that strike a balance between fuck me and flats..." he paused, flicked the cigarette out of the window. Pulled out another, offered one to her, attempting to entice her to join him, whether she had accepted the first he had offered or not.

"My urge to fuck, to cheat on my useless wife, to feel pleasure inside another, to make them come, hard, long, to leave them shaking with excitement... it's overwhelming. I took your advice though and tried to focus on just one woman, a distraction, someone unattainable, someone I could fantasize about, without having to worry about the fantasy becoming a reality... but it's not quite working." he shook his head, "Because I feel that she's far more accessible than I first thought. Still, at least I would be confining myself to one woman physically... and seeing as how she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, it would be far from being a chore... it would be a heaven sent opportunity. Salvation made real." he tapped his fingers against the window sill.

"I think I should approach her, let her know that I want to fuck her brains out, let her know that I believe she would be discrete about our liaison, let her know that she alone could focus my lust on one person and save me from an very expensive divorce. What do you think Doctor? Do you think I should tell her, make a move on her? I'm keen to hear any alternatives or suggestions you might have before I go ahead and do just that." he finished.