"Therapy"
 

The red haired woman had been sitting in front of her therapist wringing her hands, silently picking at her fingernails and chewing on her cuticles. For the last twenty minutes, she had done everything but look up and at the one person she had fifty-five minutes to talk with. He was young, good looking-in a geeky kind of way-and compassionate. Above all, he was kind, soft spoken and patient. Finally he spoke, "Rachel, would you like to tell me what's going on?"

Rachel looked up at her therapist suddenly, and as always, was shocked at the look on his face. He was calm, his demeanor nothing short of a perfect young catholic priest. Like nothing in the world phased him and he was at her disposal to talk of whatever sin she felt she needed to confess. He had that eager almost expectant look, like he was hoping she would grant him permission to give her absolution. She riled through her memories trying to think of something in her past or even present that would cause her to act this way. There was no way she was going to tell him this, she couldn't! In fact, there was no one in the world she could discuss this particular issue with.

He spoke again. "Rachel, you know that you can tell me anything right? There is nothing in the world that can shock or repel me".
Rachel wanted to laugh in his face and ask him if the was sure that the vividly indiscreet actions and descriptive displays of a forty-five year old woman wouldn't repel him. She didn't though; she sat looking at his grey and black marble designer socks and his unscratched penny loafers and wondered if he was really just an intern and if she was spending all this time with a boy who was just trying to get a degree. These were really just wasted thoughts; she knew he was really a degreed and licensed psychotherapist in here in the state of Illinois. What she really wondered was how old he was and what the look on his face would finally turn into if she just blurted out what was really on her mind.
He sighed almost soundlessly. Looking nonchalant, glancing at his watch, and just looking out the window, waiting for her to respond.
Rachel’s mind took yet another detour; she had noticed that he never took notes. He probably had expensive dictation equipment to which he talked into after sessions or maybe he recorded them. She knew she was stalling.

She suddenly sat forward at that thought. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, "Do you record or videotape your sessions Jack?" She began talking fast and she knew it, spitting out the next question before he could even answer the first. "I mean, because I'd like to know before I discuss this particular thing". And still continuing at rapid fire before he could even process the previous questions, she said "And you'll probably tell me to talk to a woman therapist if I can actually get all of this out of my head and into words, but most women deny this particular thing and she'd probably just put me on meds or something and- "

Rachel stopped suddenly, frowned slightly, chewed on a nail and then fired out, "I-don't-need-meds-I-just-need-to-talk-it-out!"
Jack Lansdale sat and looked at his client, slightly intrigued at what she might have unearthed in her mind that would make her so distracted and uncomfortable at the same time. He knew that she was a journalist and usually never had trouble talking. She called him 'kid' most of the time, as most people did. Jack was thirty-nine, but he had the face and physique of a twenty-year old young man. He was used to the slightly defensive tone of all of his patients until they actually came out and asked his age. He also knew that when they did, they were ready to delve into some deep and sometimes seriously troubling subjects. He smiled gently and answered her questions accordingly. Finally telling her that he was thirty-nine and telling her that he had heard things guaranteed to make him spin in his grave long after he was gone. She laughed at that and visibly relaxed.

Rachel sat back and kicked off her shoes, pulling her feet up underneath her, telling him that she didn't think they had time today and it would take a full session. Jack cut in though, "This is a private practice Rachel, I schedule my own hours, and to be honest, you are the last patient I have today, so we can talk as long as you need to".
She finger combed her long red hair and pulled it back into a fist, reaching with one hand into her purse to grab a ponytail holder. She sighed and looked at him, then away as she absently twisted her hair behind her neck. Finally, leaning over, she took a sip of the water that he always had by the love seat and then sat back into the corner of the deep soft cushions and stared out the window. He noticed that her hands grasped the couch as if she was about to fall apart and he knew that whatever was coming was not easy for her.

"I'm not a sex addict!" she blurted out. She looked at him for validation even though she knew that he knew about her almost non-existent sex life; although sometimes it was irresponsible, and about the demands of her job.
He knew about the horrific scenes she witnessed, the murders and the real stuff that never made it into the evening news, because Rachel dreamed about it, and sometimes things stayed with her for years. She suddenly sounded angry and belligerent "And if you think that I am and need some specialized help or something, then you better study up son, because I am too well-known in this city, hell the United States period, to be going to anyone else with this shit!" She aimed a threatening brown-eyed glare at him; but Jack only nodded wordlessly and calmly closed his eyes giving her the silent but useful signal to go into whatever problem she had, which now had him highly intrigued.

Rachel sighed, still staring out of the window. "I masturbate." She sighed again, louder this time, "a lot. I mean a whole lot more than normal people" Jack studied her from beneath narrowly slit lids, keeping his head back and hands folded across his midsection; he almost looked as if he was sleeping, but Rachel had been seeing him long enough to know that he was not. She sat up and leaned forward, gaining confidence in herself now and trusting Jack enough to spit it all out.
Jack raised his head and looked at a spot just above her left eyebrow, listening intently as she began to speak.
"It hit me the other night at full force, the sheer relentlessness with which I masturbate, how horny and wet I stay all the time, and damnit, the myriad of reasons I use to do so!" Leaning back slightly, she began where she was most comfortable.
“Jack, I had a date with another reporter the other night, if that's what you want to call it. We had been at a killer's sixth crime scene this week, same killer, same hideous scenes.

A young reporter named Sam from the Times was my shadow all day, we met up at the bar afterwards and one thing led to another as usual. Mind you, the sex was awesome, just not enough to get me off…as usual. And believe me; he tried everything, finally exhausting himself by the wee hours of the morning. Poor guy, I lied and told him that I had three orgasms, and he told me he wasn't that young and hoped that I had better luck with someone else. He left about two minutes later. I felt bad for all of about thirty seconds and then went and opened the wardrobe I have in the corner of my room.” Rachel stumbled a bit, but then pressed on.
“It's full of sex toys Jack! I carry sex toys with me everywhere. I have them in my desk at work, all over my house, hidden under cushions, and sometimes I wear them while I work. I can probably have two hundred orgasms a day, the more I do the more energy I have, and I sleep great! It's not really an addiction, it's an obsession really.
It began in college but has grown out of control these past few years.” Rachel wound down her self-analysis and faded to a stop. The room was silent, the clock ticked. Rachel blushed deeply and turned towards the window, just making up her mind to get up, walk out, and never come back, ever.
She sighed, and was about to reach for her purse and get up; just then, Jack uncrossed his leg and sat forward, looking at her finally. He was looking deeply into her with his baby blues as he asked, "Rachel, do you masturbate before you come and see me? After?" Rachel swallowed and shifted in her chair. He continued, "Do you wear your toys while you talk to me? Are you wearing one now?" Rachel blushed deeply and nodded. His next words threw her off completely…
"Show me".
Rachel slowly drew her legs up on the couch, reached below her skirt and pulled out a cum-coated silver egg. Squeezing her eyes and her legs together in mortification, she pulled the remote out of her sweater pocket. She held them out and a lone tear made its way slowly down her cheek, the side that faced Jack of course.

He took them from her; and again, for what seemed to be an eternity, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and then finally Jack clearing his throat. She heard a moan and turned to look at him, smiling in surprise as she did.
He was looking directly at her, the silver egg in his mouth as he licked and sucked it clean. She heard a zipper and some light fabric ruffling. She looked down to see his hand full of his hard and throbbing cock. He removed the egg long enough to say "Will you show me Rachel?" He leaned over and handed her back the silver egg-shaped vibrator again, smiling softly as she quietly pulled her skirt off and then faced him, opening her legs so he could see everything.
He removed his own pants and underwear, moving to stand above her and then leaning over slightly and holding her hand lightly as she guided the silver orb over her clit and around her wet pussy. She began slowly at first and then moved faster as her body commanded. His fingers were also busy helping her and then burrowing in and out of her as she manipulated the vibrating egg. Her eyes were on his hand and then moved up to his face; watching him as he watched in fascinated awe as she got off for him and him alone.
The fingertips of Rachel's slender hand reached out to torment the slick tip of his thick and hugely engorged penis. He was moving his hand in the same speeds as hers were. They fell into each other's eyes as well as the mutual rhythm. Slow and then fast, slower and then furiously. Just as she was about to cum she said “Now Fuck me now please! Oh god!...Jack?”

He quickly moved her to an accessible angle by placing one of her legs over the back of the couch, and the other up over his shoulder. He leaned in and raised her hips high with his hands so they both could see everything. Jack slid his massive cock into her, drowning in a wetness that so many before had tried to harvest from her, but none had had the patience or thought to bring out of her the way she needed. They both exclaimed loudly and gasped as he began slowly plunging into her pussy in a rhythm that took her off guard. He looked down at her, smiling and saying quietly "do it" -and she knew exactly what he wanted to see.

Rachel took the vibrating egg and turned it on a medium speed without needing to look at the buttons. She slid down some more and pushed her pelvis up, tilting so that they both had a view of her working her own clit. He swiftly dragged a cushion down from the back of the couch and underneath her so she could relax. Jack's strokes began matching the quickening pace of her hand and his member drove into her almost violently, bringing from them screams and shudders as they both exploded in and around each other wildly.

Sweat poured from them in rivulets down their stomachs as Jack rested on her, still holding her legs open. Both of them regaining their breathing as their heartbeats slowed down… until all that could be heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock and the light hum of the vibrator.

A sudden knock at the door startled Rachel out of the mind-numbing moment of this perfect orgasm and trying not to blush, she quickly pushed the button on the remote and stood, quickly adjusting her skirt and straightening her hair.

It was time for her appointment with Jack. She picked up her purse from the sink and pushed the remote inside while walking out of the bathroom and down the hall. She chuckled to herself wondering what his real response to this would be.

Maybe today she would find out.


(This is an excerpt from "Eros Comes in Black Satin: Volume I" by Lady Eros )