Surrender to a Sex Therapist

by Anita Lawless

  Someone nudged Warren’s knee with a foot. “Should we take this one back with us, too?”

  “Nah,” the man paused, and the sound of a match striking filtered into Warren’s ears. “Underground’s already overflowing. We’re gonna have to dig new tunnels at this rate. Leave him here. I’ll call an ambulance on our way out. I’m sure he’ll find his way to us eventually anyhow.”

  Warren felt too weak to stand yet. He let himself drift off as the two men walked away. The next sound that awoke him was the screaming siren of an ambulance.

  ***

  Read an excerpt from a sizzling Wild & Lawless release Jack The Lad Series: The Story of Jack & James by C.J. Sneere.

  Jack The Lad

  By C.J. Sneere

  I’d kicked cigarettes three years ago, but I needed an excuse to get away from Dad. It always escalated into an argument with him, and I refused to spoil my sister’s wedding reception. So when I spotted the short, portly bastard headed my way, I faked a nic fit then slipped out the back door of the restaurant.

  I sighed as my ass hit the cool sidewalk. A spring breeze drifted by, and I inhaled deeply of the city scents it carried. Hot dogs from street vendors, fuel exhaust, and a potpourri of freshly served food coming from the restaurant. Soaking this in relaxed me.

  Until I looked to my left and saw a gorgeous blond man walking toward me. His hair was a mess of spikes. He was about six foot. Dressed in gaudy plaid pants and a t-shirt far too tight. But I wasn’t complaining. Though he wore a leather jacket over top, I could still make out well defined pecs, a toned stomach. I looked up from where his tight pants bunched in an impressive bulge and our gazes met.

  He had doe eyes and a crooked grin. My mouth went dry, and I tried to look away, but failed on the first try. Normally, the attention of a handsome male lifted a crappy mood, but not today. Today, I just wanted solitude. Dealing with my overbearing father was stress enough.

  I was never much of a punk fan, but something about my unexpected guest intrigued me. Still, he seemed to spell trouble, so I forced myself to stare at my shoes instead.

  He sat close beside me. I kept focusing on my shoes, hoping if I ignored him long enough he’d go away. Instead, he stretched his legs out, propped one black, three-inch platform on top of the other, and slid a cigarette from a pack tucked in his jacket pocket.

  After lighting up, he nudged me with an elbow. “Want a puff?”

  “I don’t smoke cancer sticks.” From my peripheral, I saw him grin again.

  “This ain’t a cigarette.” He took another long drag. “What, you don’t recognize a spliff when you see it?”

  I wrinkled my nose, gave him a quick glance. “I’ve never touched marijuana, thank you.”

  This earned me sexy laughter. The guy threw his head back and gutted himself. I felt like a kid back on the playground, and I edged away slightly.

  He reached out, gently patted my shoulder then gave it a squeeze. “Hey, sorry, pal. Just teasing you. No harm meant.”

  I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Tried to be offended by his closeness, his carefree attitude, rather than turned on by it. But something made me edge back toward him, brush my knee against his.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked into his eyes once more. They were dark golden brown. My throat tightened and I had to focus on breathing. His stare was bold, held no fear, and I got lost in it.

  “What the hell.” My voice cracked. “Give me a drag.”

  As I reached for the joint, my fingers shook. His hand brushed over mine, and his rough calluses raised the tiny hairs on my knuckles. He took his time pulling away, which made me cough on the spicy smoke I held in my lungs. His grin returned when we touched a second time, as I handed the spliff back.

  Annoyed by my reaction, I scowled, speaking harsher than I meant to: “Got a name?”

  His smirk remained. “Jack.” He held out his palm, and those golden eyes shimmered.

  Swallowing hard, I ignored his offer this time. “I’m James.”

  This bastard knew he was getting to me. It was clear in his confident attitude. In the way he stayed close, as if daring me to tell him to move off. “Nice to meet you, James. What brings you into the alley this afternoon?”

  Did he just waggle an eyebrow at me? I thought, wondering if he’d mistaken me for a hopeful trick. “Avoidance.” I moved an inch away. Hey, it had been a while, but I’d never pay for sex. Maybe I wasn’t GQ cover, but I knew I was handsome enough to get it for free.

  He scoffed at my discomfort. “I’m not asking because I’m selling. Just general interest.” He shrugged. “Being friendly. What’re you avoiding?”

  I let my hackles down, gave him a small smile. “My father. We haven’t talked in six years. But my sister got married today. Though I hate him, I love her. So here I am.”

  He rested an arm across my shoulders. I almost tensed from the touch, but then he massaged the stiff muscles on one side of my neck. “Parents,” he said. “They can be a pain in the ass.”

  Sighing, I relaxed in spite of my apprehension. “That feels good. Thank you.” I let my muscles melt beneath his fingertips. My head tilted back and I closed my eyes.

  As my lips parted slightly, a hot, wet tongue glided between them. At first I tensed, but Jack cradled my head with one hand, urging me deeper into his kiss. His other hand stroked and kneaded my torso through my dress shirt.

  I reached up and buried fingers in his hair. My tongue entwined with his, then I sucked on his bottom lip. He gave a soft moan, and his hips pressed hard into mine as he tugged me closer still.

  Our mouths crushed together harder as his hand slipped between my legs. He rubbed my growing erection, and I nipped the end of his tongue before tearing my mouth away. My hand slipped beneath his shirt to fondle lush abs and pectorals, before my sense of reason shook me:

  You’re making out with a strange man in an alley, it shrieked, using my father’s voice.

  I jumped away from Jack, skittered to a stop near the dumpster. He stared at me in obvious surprise, doe eyes wide and searching. “I’m sorry. I thought you were--”

  “Gay?” My smile felt weary, as memories of Dad’s snide comments over my sexual orientation flowed. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, it’s not you. You’re…” I blushed, glanced away. “You’re beautiful. It’s just my father. If he happened to come out here…”

  “Fuck him.” Jack’s lip curled in a sneer. “What’s he gonna do?” The sneer turned to a smile as he stood and walked over. “And you’re rather hot yourself, thank you. Between the two of us, I think we could take the old bastard out if he shows his face.”

  I laughed loud at this. The thought of my father in a fist fight with me and an unknown lover conjured an absurd image in my mind. Would be fun to shock the shit out of my old man, though. I rarely took such chances. While I hadn’t lived with my father since I was fifteen--the year I came out--his verbal and physical torment still held power over me. It made me rigid, afraid to feel for any man, in case he abused me the way my father had. I often broke relationships off before the one year mark. I was just too terrified to grow attached.

  But Jack offered a fling. Nothing more. No attachment. No strings. So, why not? Screw my father and his disapproval. I didn’t need his acceptance. Never had and never would. These thoughts boosted my courage.

  Jack placed his forehead to mine and gazed in my eyes. “So…what’d you say? You look like you could use a good fucking to loosen you up.”

  But he was a stranger. I didn’t know his sexual past. “I… I can’t…”

  He held up a plastic bag. “If you’re worried about protection, I got fresh ones in here.” He smirked as he pulled out a box of condoms. “Can I take you for a ride, pretty boy?”

  I scoffed. “Who’re you calling pretty?”

  His response was another scorching kiss. He reached down and groped my crotch, pinning me to the brick wall as he did so. The rough blocks grazed my skin through my shirt, but I barely notic
ed. His smell wafted up my nose, dizzied my head. A mix of mint and musk.

  I ran my hand down his face, enjoying the tickle of stubble against my smooth palm. He tore his mouth from mine, just as he tore the buttons from my shirt.

  “My father’ll see that.” My protest was weak and breathless.

  “Too bad,” Jack growled, before he took my left nipple between his teeth.

  I laughed and pushed my overly-cautious nature away.

  He took his time licking, kissing, and sucking a path to my waist. Then he swiftly tore open my belt and pants. I arched my hips forward to help him tug them and my underwear to my knees.

  His warm, wet mouth closed tightly around my throbbing cock. Sighing, I thrust deep into his mouth until my balls brushed his chin. With my glans touching the back of his throat, he sucked hard on my aching erection. I moaned loud and long before I could stop myself. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone, and this sensation was paradise.

  His mouth slipped back to my thick head, while one hand kneaded my swollen scrotum. With his tongue, he tortured the glans and my hole. The head of my cock pulsed so strong it hurt. I bucked forward, forcing my penis farther between his lips. He chuckled around the shaft before deep-throating me. The vibration, the hot pressure of his mouth wrapped around me once more, felt sublime.

  His mouth slipped up and down my penis faster, faster. I struggled to control my moans of pleasure. My hands found his hair and buried fingers in his golden spikes. While sucking my cock, he continued to play with my balls, and the combination had me wildly fucking his face.

  That is until he yanked his mouth from my shaft to lap and slurp at my scrotum. His skilled hand replaced his lips. He squeezed tightly as he ran his grip up and down my spit-lubed dick.

  Just when I thought he’d milk me to orgasm while gobbling my sac, he changed it up again. His skilled touch left me, and I opened my eyes, letting out a disappointed groan. After a cheeky grin upward, he coiled his lips around my twitching erection, pumping up and down its length as swiftly as he could. While he sucked me eagerly, his hand went back to massaging my balls.

  ***

  Read an excerpt from a sizzling Wild & Lawless release Cindy Eller: 50 Shades of Fairy Tales by Leigh Foxlee

  Cindy Eller

  By Leigh Foxlee

  I ditched my pre-Valentine’s date. And it wasn’t the first time I dumped Prince Charming. I felt like a jerk.

  You are a jerk! my inner voice scolded. I wouldn’t blame him if he never chats with you again.

  “Oh shut up,” I grumbled back, pulling my glasses from my face to clean away smudges with my sweatshirt.

  Prince Charming was the chat name of my online paramour. I went by Cindy Eller, after my favorite fairy tale. My real name is Cynthia Ellerton, and everyone calls me Cindy for short, so I suppose it lacks any imagination, or internet security really. Me and PC had met in a Funtime Games chat room while playing Goofee Gophers Word Search. He’d made a joke that he must be the one for me, since our screen names matched perfectly. The conversation flowed easily, amicably.

  Then, about a month back, he’d suggested taking our games over to the adult chat section. I’m somewhat sheltered when it comes to sex, but curious, and I felt I knew him well enough to agree. Besides, it was just online sex, right? What harm could come of it?

  My step sisters and step mother didn’t quite see it that way.

  “What if he stalks you?” Sally clucked her tongue and shook her bright red hair. “You can’t be too careful these days.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I plan on meeting him ever. Besides, I’ve been chatting with him for months. What’s the big deal? Don’t be so uptight.”

  My stepmother’s smooth brow crinkled with fine lines. “Sally does have a point. Those internet--oh, what are they called?--hackers?”

  Rebecca, my other step sister, nodded at her mother.

  “Hackers,” my step mother continued, “could get your phone number, address, all that stuff and come kill you!”

  I tried not to roll my eyes at the thin, bird-like woman. I knew she meant well. She worried that my social anxiety made me spend too much time on the computer and not enough time face to face socializing. Plus she watched too many tabloid news programs and believed them to be true. My step mom saw me as the sheltered introvert she had to protect, and I could admittedly be a bit too cavalier with my internet security, despite my deep trust issues with people. What can I say? I’ve got a contradictory personality sometimes.

  Still, my family didn’t need to worry. I was great with online game chat, but I was still dodging a face to face meeting with Prince Charming. Commitment and trust issues. Yeah, I’m a real package.

  I remembered our first chat make out session. He broke my sexual ice with a simple question: Are you a virgin, Cindy?

  I blushed profusely before I typed back: No, but I’m new to this.

  PrinceCharming: We’ll start slow. Have you ever touched yourself?

  My cheeks grew hotter and my fingers shook as I typed: Masturbated?

  PrinceCharming: Yes.

  I chewed my lip and stared at the chat window, hating how my face burnt with embarrassment. I was a grown woman, in college for crying in the sink, and this was ridiculous. Taking a deep breath, I told myself toBuck up, Princess.

  I typed: Well… kinda … sorta.

  Frustrated with myself, I hit enter and hid my face in my hands. How I wanted to punch a wall, but I didn’t want to lose my damage deposit, or break my fingers.

  PrinceCharming: Kinda?

  His response forced me to take deep, calming breaths. What a ninny I was! Okay, grow up Cindy and chat.

  I typed: I’ve touched my clitoris. Never inserted fingers. No orgasm… yet.

  What I didn’t tell him was my step mother taught me that sex of any kind was “dirty,” “wrong,” and only for procreation. Her words, not mine. But even though I disagreed with her, the woman raised me after my dad won custody and my mom, the natural wanderer, left. I had to live by her rules at one time, and those antiquated rules still played tricks on my less than perfect brain.

  PrinceCharming: Will you play with yourself 4 me? Cum 4 me?

  I swallowed hard, blinked at the screen.

  I typed: I don’t have a cam.

  It was all I could think of, and it was true. Not that I’m a toad or anything. I like to think I’m an average-to-cute geek girl. My short, black pixie ‘do makes me look almost elfin. But I’ve never been a fan of my chin, and my nose is just okay.

  PrinceCharming: That’s okay. Type as you play. Tell me how it feels.

  I quit brooding about my appearance and jumped when the message ping went off. What the hell? I decided. It was time to shed my uptightness. Besides, I was in the privacy of my apartment, and no one would see.

  Taking a deep breath, I typed back: I could just lie. Tell you I’m doing it when I’m not.

  PrinceCharming: I trust you. :)

  My heart fluttered in my chest and I almost hated him for being so slick, so nice, but that wouldn’t be fair. This was my shit messing with my head, not his fault.

  I typed back: So … how should I start.

  PrinceCharming: Get naked for me.

  I shivered as I shed my ash grey sweatshirt, black yoga pants, and red striped thong. My skin felt electric, as if unseen charged particles pinged out of my pores. I was terrified and thrilled all at once.

  My nipples puckered, hardening until they hurt as I sat in the chair again, my clothes completely shed.

  I typed: Okay, what next?

  PrinceCharming: I wish I could see you. ;) Spread your legs. Get comfortable.

  I did, then waited for his next message.

  PrinceCharming: Stroke your clit. Pull the hood back and rub it. Tell me how it feels.

  I skimmed two fingers up my soft labia then caressed the tiny bead of flesh. Sparks seemed to shoot through my every nerve. When I pulled the hood back to rub beneath, a tiny m
oan escaped me.

  PrinceCharming: Feel good?

  I stopped long enough to type: Yes.

  Prince Charming: Slide your fingers between your lips. Get them wet.

  I did as he instructed, parting my labia to slip two fingers down my slit. It glistened with my juices, and my pussy already throbbed so strong it was driving me mad.

  Once my fingers shone with wetness, I rubbed my clit again. More electric shocks zipped from my sex to my brain, showering my whole body with delightful sensation. I could see how a person could become addicted to this sort of pleasure. I certainly didn’t want it to end any time soon.

  PrinceCharming: Rub your clit. Fuck yourself with your fingers. Make yourself come, Princess.

  My skin tingled as I ground fingers into my swelling clitoris. Tense muscles started to relax as pleasure flooded my body. My clit pulsed strong from the stimuli. The tingling threatened to drive me mad, and my opening throbbed so hard it hurt.

  PrinceCharming: Details? ;)

  I groaned as I pulled my fingers away from my sex, disappointed by the cessation of bliss. I had to collect my thoughts before I could reply.

  I typed: I’m wet. On fire. I need to cum.

  I stared in shock at my reply. It read so confident and wanton.

  PrinceCharming: Tell me how it feels, how you feel? Bring me into your world.

  My hands shook slightly as I typed: It feels … amazing. It’s like electricity zipping through my body, if getting electrocuted were a good thing. lol

  PrinceCharming: I bet you feel like velvet. So soft. So wet. I can almost see it.

  My cheeks flamed with heat and a smile quirked up the corners of my lips.

  I typed: Now, can I get back to it? ;)

  PrinceCharming: haha! Go for it.

  This time, I positioned myself in the chair so I could slide fingers inside me while still playing with my clit. I closed my eyes and pictured him with me, imagined what he would look like. My fingers became his fingers.

  I tugged my clit back and rubbed. My fingers were once more slick with my juices, and I gasped loudly as I drew his face in my mind. Hair so black it seemed to shine blue. Eyes the color of sapphires. Chiseled cheekbones and a square chin. He watched me with intense lust as his fingers skimmed up my labia.