by JB Duvane
“Not anymore. None of the girls from my school live anywhere near here. I had some friends when I was younger but I haven’t really kept in touch lately. I’ve been meaning to but since everything that happened … well. Anyway, I don't know why my mother chose a private school in another state but it didn’t do much for my social life.”
“I hear Miss Potter’s is one of the best. It has an excellent reputation for college acceptance. I’m sure your mother wanted to make sure you had every advantage possible.”
“I’m not so sure that was the reason she sent me away.” A smile slowly curled up at the corners of her perfect lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. After they darted around the room a bit, Emily’s eyes met mine and I saw that same lost look that had stirred something inside me earlier. I took her arm and steered her across the room over to the bar.
I had an impulse to ask about a boyfriend, but I wasn’t sure if that would come off as creepy. I hadn't noticed anyone hanging around her at the funeral. Surely, if she were seeing anyone that was worth a damn, he'd be here supporting her at a time like this. But after I thought about it for a moment I really didn’t care if she were seeing anyone. If she was, it wasn't going to last for long. I would see to that.
I honestly couldn’t see how a girl like Emily didn’t have an army of boys following her around at all times. Maybe she really was just that sheltered at the school. I had to admit, the thought that Emily was an untouched woman made my cock involuntarily twitch in my trousers, and I had to adjust my posture in such a way to make sure my arousal was imperceptible.
We made our way over to the corner of the room where an enormous amount of food was laid out on a long table. I left Emily there for a moment while I walked to the bar and grabbed two glasses of wine. As I approached her I noticed that she was staring down at the table of trays of cold cuts interspersed with wedges of cheese and piles of bite sized fruit, but hadn't touched a thing.
“Would you like something to eat?” I asked as I handed her a glass.
“No, I’m fine, Dr … I mean … Max. I haven’t been very hungry.”
"Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like to sit down?"
"No, really, Max, I'm fine. I was just listening to what those women over there were saying. Is it true? Do you think I look just like her?" she asked, looking up into my eyes with furrowed brows and a sincerity that melted my heart. She seemed so lost and sad and all I wanted to do at that moment was wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her soft hair, but this was definitely not the place. There would be time enough for that later. I would make sure of it.
"Yes, you do. There are slight differences, of course, but it is astounding how much you look like your mother. Especially when she was closer to your age."
"How long did you know her, Max?"
"Your mother became a patient of mine about eight years ago, when you were just a little girl."
"But she was more than a patient to you, wasn't she?" Emily asked with a faraway stare that was still focused on a spot just over the food on the table in front of her.
As I gently pulled her arm to an empty corner of the room I couldn’t help playing that moment over in my head. I will never forget that image of a young girl standing in the shadowy hall outside of Amelia's bedroom, with long blonde hair hanging loose around shoulders that were bare underneath a sleeveless white nightgown. That was a couple years ago, when she had just started to blossom into early womanhood, and if my calculations were correct that made Emily eighteen years old now.
"Yes, Emily, your mother meant a lot to me." I reached up and moved a strand of hair out of her eye. She looked up at me, her face almost close enough for me to kiss without moving a muscle. I hovered over her for a moment, staring into her dark eyes, then took a step backward, and quickly looked around the room to see if anyone was watching us. As I tilted the wine glass and emptied it in one swallow, I watched her catch her breath out of the corner of my eye. Her gaze was fixed on mine and her lips were parted, silently asking me to fill the space between them with my tongue.
“Did you love her?" her eyes widened and her brow lifted as she waited for the answer.
I looked around the room and noticed a few people within earshot, then set down my wine glass, adjusted my tie slightly, and turned back to Emily.
"I'm not sure if this is the place to discuss your mother's and my relationship. We can make arrangements to meet later and talk, if you'd like. In fact, I would love for you to come see me, Emily. If you need to talk about anything at all—your mother’s death, the estate, anything—please call me," I said, taking her hand and placing my card into it. She smiled as she looked down at the small piece of paper in her hand.
“Are you going to be my shrink now, Dr. Max?" she asked, looking up at me with a mischievous smile, then biting her lower lip. Oh, she was good. I wasn’t about to play my hand yet, though. I wanted to keep her guessing a little while longer.
"You can call my office and make an appointment with my receptionist, or we can meet after hours, it's up to you. I know how hard a loss like this can be, and I'd like to help you in any way I can."
"Emily! Darling, how are you?" An older woman with a black veil covering her eyes pushed in between the two of us and kissing the air on either side of Emily’s face. "I'm so sorry for your loss, dear. Is there anything I can do for you? I've arranged for a food basket to be sent over from one of those specialty markets that Amelia loved so much. But I'd be more than happy to have one of your cousins come over and stay with you for a while. I just abhor the thought of you here all alone, darling."
"Thank you Aunt Leona, but I'm fine, really. I don't mind being here alone. It's my home and I'm comfortable here. I appreciate your concern though. Do you know Dr. Devereaux?“
The woman turned her attention to me and held out her hand. “Doctor?” she asked with a smile curling up in the corner of her mouth.
“Maximilian Devereaux,” I said, taking her limp hand and attempting to shake it. “I was Amelia’s psychiatrist.”
“Oh, yes. Well, I’m sure you had your hands full.” She eyed me up and down, then looked back at Emily. “Call me if you need anything, darling.” She looked at me one more time, then Emily and I watched her as she drifted off into a group of chatting women, leaving a cloud of powdery sweetness in the air.
"Is that one of your mother's sisters?" I asked. I had never seen or heard of her before.
"No, that's my father's sister. She lives a few hours from here.”
It suddenly struck me that Richard wasn’t at the reception. “Is your father here?”
“No.” That was all she said, and with no additional information offered I thought it best to leave it at that.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay here all by yourself? This place really is too big for one person. You could get lost in here," I said as I moved in a little closer to Emily again. She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass and smiled as she glanced behind me up to the second floor landing.
"I've never gotten lost in this house, Max. Not even when I was a young girl. I always knew exactly where I was, even when my mother didn't."
Her eyes fixed on mine as she set her wine glass down. I was speechless. She had to be referring to that night. My attention was completely focused on the gap between those perfect lips of hers. All I wanted to do in that moment was pull her body to mine and devour them.
"So do you only see patients at your office? Or do you see them at your house as well?" Her eyes darted away when she tacked on that last part of the question, obviously making an effort to appear casual but not succeeding. I could read her like a book. I wanted to devour her right then and there. I knew she was playing a game with me, and that she'd been playing it for years.
In the few times I had seen her since she had disappeared to that private school, I knew exactly what her eyes were telling me. Those sexy, dark eyes that drew me in and grew darker and blacker the longer she stared at me. Eyes t
hat knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it, but were tinged with a faraway look that bordered on fear. The combination was irresistible to me and made me want to hold her and protect her from her own fears. But it also made me want to be everything that she feared. What I wanted was to own her. I wanted her to belong to me. But this was going to have to go my way.
"I do see patients in my home from time to time, but it would be better if we had some sessions in my office first, so we could get a bit more acquainted. I'd like to get to know more about you—your past and the things that might be issues for you right now. Is that something that you'd be interested in? Of course I wouldn't charge you. You're like a part of the family to me and I'd be more than happy to see you for as long as you feel is necessary."
Emily looked a little disappointed as she stared off into the distance behind me. When she turned her eyes back to me to respond, she didn't seem as open, as flirty and friendly as she had moments before. Apparently, I had put her off by giving her the full doctor persona. That was the way it needed to be right now, though. I was in charge, and I intended to remain in charge of how things progressed between us.
"What things in my past do you think I need to discuss with you, Max?" she moved her faraway gaze back to me and focused intently on my eyes. "Is there something you already know about? Did my mother tell you something about me?"
I smiled slightly as I thought about all of the things her mother had told me. How the more she talked about her daughter and her apparent issues with the men who surrounded her—as she went through the awkward stage of not a girl anymore to not quite a woman—made her more and more intriguing to me. Emily was a puzzle I wanted to immerse myself in until I figured out every last thing about her.
"Your mother told me many things, Emily. We saw each other at least once a week for eight years. There were times when she was very worried about you, and times when she just needed some advice. Raising a teenage girl isn't my field of expertise, but I believe I did manage to help her make some good decisions."
"Decisions regarding what? Why on earth would she need your advice with me?" she moved closer to me and I could feel the energy coming off of her in waves. She was getting uncomfortably close to attracting the attention of everyone in the room and even though her behavior concerned me—as I had no interest in the people in this room knowing my business—it also made me crazy with desire. I wanted to throw her over my lap and spank the living daylights out of her while plunging my fingers deep inside her wet pussy.
"Emily. I am much more interested in what you have to tell me. And I would much rather do that in the privacy of my office than in front of all these people. I would love to talk to you about anything that’s on your mind, but I prefer to keep my conversations confidential, and I don't see any way of achieving that in this room."
It was a fine line I was walking, but I knew how to handle a girl like her. She would do what I said and would be putty in my hands by the end of the week.
"You're right Max. I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you. I think I'm just going through a lot right now and I'm not quite myself, you know? But as a matter of fact, I would like someone to talk to. I would very much like to come see you," she said with an air of finality as she looked up at me, a sweet smile lighting up her eyes.
"Don't worry about a thing. You're not embarrassing me at all. I look forward to hearing from you, and in the meantime, if there is anything I can do for you … anything … please call me."
First Appointment (Emily)
A cool breeze blew across my bare legs, almost flipping my short, summer skirt up, as I walked along the downtown streets on my way to Max's office. I held my hands down over my hips to keep my clothing intact, as I hadn't worn anything underneath. This was a bold move, even for me, but lately I just didn't have the same inhibitions that I used to have. Especially where Max was concerned.
I was by law an adult, I was done with school—which had kept me from having any fun at all—and I had recently inherited a massive estate that I could do with as I pleased. All I needed now was the man—that man. The one that I was going to see now and that I would make sure was mine before long. I didn’t care what he had with my mother. He would soon see that what he could have with me was better than anything he’d imagined in his wildest dreams.
I had been waiting for this day for years and my stomach was filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. As I walked, I couldn't help slipping into a sexual reverie—imagining what his warm hands would feel like running over my breasts, what his smooth cock would taste like. Before I knew it, I was at the steps to his office building—already feeling the hot wetness seep between my legs—and I hadn't even seen him yet.
The dress I was wearing was not only light and flimsy, so that the air blew it around with ease, but it was also almost completely see through in the right light. No panties, no bra—just the thinnest fabric separating my nakedness from Max's eyes. I smiled at the thought of straddling his lap and burying my breasts in Max's face as he sat behind his desk and tried to be professional.
I was not planning on giving him a chance to turn me down. It might take a couple visits to his office to get him to let down his guard—and his pants—but I knew the minute I had my lips wrapped around his cock he was going to be mine.
I was so thrilled to see Max when he showed up at my mother's funeral. The moment I caught a glimpse of him walking in to the reception, I knew that it was all meant to be. That everything had been leading up to this. He was going to be mine, and I was going to make him forget that I had ever even had a mother.
Max was absolutely gorgeous. He had the perfect dark allure—everything that I had ever dreamed about in a man—and everyone at the reception could see it too. None of the women there could take their eyes off of him. Every time I glanced around the room there was some woman staring or a group of women whispering. And it wasn’t just the chatter about how much I looked like my mother that I had been listening to. I had overheard them talking about him—about us. Speculating on who in this boring, uptight town he was seeing. I wanted to shout out to the entire room that he was mine. That they might as well look elsewhere because nothing would stop me from making him mine.
I thought I was in love with him a couple years ago, but what I felt for him now was much more. My feelings for him had grown along with my body over the last two years, and by the way he looked me over with his dark eyes at the funeral, I knew that I wasn't going to have to do much in order to completely enchant him. He was a man, after all, and while I didn't have a lot of experience with the opposite sex, I knew enough to know that they couldn't resist a nice pair of tits and ass—and that is exactly what I was going to present him with today at his office.
I stopped at a convenience store just outside the lobby of Max's office building and bought a cold bottle of water, then made my way to the elevator. Even though it was a cool day and I was wearing my skimpiest summer dress, I wanted to provide Max with a little more to look at. I wanted to make him drool the minute I walked into his office. The bottle of water was ice cold and I unbuttoned my top enough to run it over my breasts. My nipples popped up and became rock hard bumps the size of raisins. I knew that would get his attention.
When I entered his suite, the receptionist looked me up and down disdainfully. She didn't even say anything, just stared at me as if I had no right to be there.
"I have an appointment with Dr. Devereux." I said somewhat haughtily, barely looking at her, checking my phone instead as if she didn't even warrant a glance from me. I was not about to be judged by some secretary. If she was fucking him, that was about to be over.
She buzzed Max using the phone on her desk, then rudely motioned for me to have a seat. I glanced at one of the overstuffed lobby chairs, but before I could sit down she hung up the phone and said curtly, "Dr. Devereux will see you now. Last door on the right."
She didn't bother to get up and show me the way, and I was glad. I didn't need the secre
tary's presence taking away from my grand entrance.
I smoothed the wrinkles out of my skirt and headed down the empty hallway. Once I rounded the corner and was out of her sight, I took a quick glance at myself using the reflection in my phone and fluffed up my hair. I arrived at the last door on the right, and looked at the hall plate that stated Max's full name and credentials in gold lettering. I discreetly pinched my nipples one last time to get them extra hard before rapping lightly on the door and then slowly turning it without waiting for an answer.
I pushed the door open and stepped through. Max looked up casually, and when his eyes focused on me they widened and his mouth opened slightly. I stood before him, putting myself on display and letting him gaze at me a few moments before attempting to move or speak. I wanted him to take it all in—the neckline that revealed a generous amount of cleavage, my hard nipples poking through the sheer fabric, and the skirt of the dress that barely came down past my ass. I wanted him to see what could be his. He was obviously having a hard time keeping his eyes off my breasts, but by the time he made it down to my bare legs I could see that he had to force himself to look back up into my eyes.
He sat motionless in his chair for a beat too long, taking in the sight of me before he finally found his voice. He cleared his throat, not because of a cough, but as a gesture to buy time and regain composure. I pretended not to notice and looked at him shyly, as if I were just a lost little girl coming in for a routine checkup, but inside I was flying. The feeling of power over someone like Max was just about the most intoxicating thing on the planet and I wanted it to go on forever.
"Hello, Emily. Please have a seat.” He did that insanely sexy thing where he loosened his tie a bit and looked away from me, as if he had a million things on his mind. But I knew there was just one thing—me. I didn’t know if he knew how obvious he was with that gesture. It wasn’t obvious like boys my age were, though. Max was sexy in ways that those boys wouldn’t be able to come close to for years—if ever. I wanted to kneel down in front of him where he sat behind his desk and undo his belt right then—taking him deep into my mouth and milking his seed right out of him. I wanted to make him mine.