Chase sliced his gaze toward Mr Miller. He’d straightened a little in his chair, but no objection came from his lips.
At her fingers sliding around his thickened length, Chase sucked in a shallow breath. Finally. The first contact had been made.
Mrs Miller squeezed slightly, and Chase swallowed. She rolled the opening of his foreskin back a little, and he had to clench his jaw to stifle a groan.
He’d had years of experience in storing his emotions, and he knew all the tricks for retaining his composure.
She dipped her head. The tips of her hair brushed his crotch a moment before her breaths washed over his cock. Warm breaths that caressed and teased and promised of more to come, and he slid his hands to the edge of the desk, almost unconsciously, his fingers hooking over the lip as if in preparation.
Tongue. Glorious fucking tongue swiped over the head of his cock.
God, how he loved his job.
Mrs Miller licked lower, curling her tongue around the solidity of his length, slurping it back upward, and yes, fucking yes, those lips of hers slipped over his head and drew him straight into her mouth—and straight back out again.
Straightening, she glanced around the room, and releasing his dick, she padded over to a low square-shaped pouffe. On her return with the rest, she dropped her gaze toward her husband with a smile of reassurance. When he gave a small nod, she seemed to let out a breath of relief.
Turning away, she set the pouffe down in front of Chase and settled atop it on her knees. Bringing her face level with his crotch. The next time she reached for him, she didn’t lean in, but wrapped her fingers around his cock and drew him toward her lips. A command. Control. Taking what she wanted rather than giving to please.
“I want to …” The breath from her words floated over his flesh, and she sent a quick glance toward Mr Miller before turning back. “I want to suck your cock.”
Chase could have sworn a low groan came from his right, but he could only focus on the parting of Mrs Millers lips, on the heat escaping her mouth, on the way she rounded its opening and pressed against the soft head of his cock. The way her lips parted even farther as she slipped over the crown, and then closed in some as they reached the rock-hard shaft. He half expected that to be her limit, for her to glide right back off again, but she dipped those lips lower over his cock, taking him in deeper. And as she withdrew, a tiny moan of pleasure vibrated over his shaft. A tiny moan of pleasure that told him she’d found the place in her head where whatever she did to him had become acceptable.
Her next plunge was faster, her cheeks contracting as she sucked, and he inhaled. As her tongue stroked the underside of his cock, he exhaled. With the next upward glide of her lips, her fist followed, closing his cock within the foreskin before her downward tug released it again, and as her hot mouth sucked straight back over him, the office space narrowed to nothing more than that moment. Her husband disappeared from Chase’s mind. All he gave a fuck about was the wet hotness engulfing him and the promise of ejaculation. Because he would come. His years of experience told him she’d finish the job.
Tightening her grip, she worked his cock with her hand, her mouth sucking and slurping with every yank, until her fist smacked against her lips, and Chase’s fingers gripped the wood of the desktop hard enough to make his knuckles ache. Relaxing into the movement of her hand, the fucking of her lips, the steady sounds of connecting flesh, he let his lids lower and his head fall back until only his arms supported him.
The muscles twitched through his thighs at the scrape of her teeth, but settled again as the softness of her tongue chased the sting. And he forgave her alto-fucking-gether when she drove her mouth so far over his cock, her lips caressed the base, and her grunt of discomfort sent a blast of heat pulsing through him.
She slipped her lips off him with a pop, her head tipped back as she drew in a sharp breath. “I need …” She closed her eyes slowly. Opened them. “I need to come. I need something …”
Chase knew what she needed. He had no doubt her cunt dripped its juice down her thighs. It was probably already pulsating and desperate for a cock.
And Chase had no intention of offering his own.
Over in his armchair, Mr Miller stared at his wife like she’d grown a fucking tail, but the tenting of his robe gave away how he really felt about the session. When he didn’t so much as stir in Mrs Miller’s direction, though, Chase lifted his gaze toward the disguised camera in the corner of the ceiling and gave a discreet nod—the entire evaluation and order completed in less than three seconds.
When he peered back down, he found Mrs Miller’s eyes one hundred percent on him. “Relief will be here momentarily.”
He really wanted to tell her to continue. His cock throbbed like a mo-fo, and his balls ached to offload. Luckily, the almost silent opening of the door came only a minute later, and Samantha entered the room.
Her bare feet made little sound against the floor, and in her hand, she carried just one of the accessories available at CW Consult. She sent Mr Miller a smile as she passed him, which he surprisingly returned. Reaching the pouffe Mrs Miller occupied, she hiked the skirt of her form-fitting dress until halfway up her thighs and sank gracefully to her knees.
“Mrs Miller, my assistant is behind you.”
The woman nodded.
“I want you to reach beneath you, to between your thighs.”
She delicately placed his cock against his groin, before reaching the hand she’d held him with down below her body, her gaze never once leaving his.
Giving Samantha a beat to guide the tool to the woman’s waiting hand, he asked, “Do you feel that?”
She gave a small nod.
“Do you know what it is?”
“It feels like a penis, but it isn’t.”
“It’s a dildo.”
“I know what one of those are,” she said simply.
“And what do you want to do with it?”
“I want it inside my pussy.” She swallowed, the lines around her eyes deepening. “I want them to put it inside my pussy, because I want to suck your penis and I can’t do both.”
He glanced toward Samantha, and she twitched her head enough that he recognised her consent. Whereas he had his set of rules, Raelyn and Sam had their own—ones he’d allowed them to construct themselves. They only went as far as they were willing, and they always, always, made that choice for themselves.
“Tell them what you want them to do,” Chase encouraged. Not just because it was part of the therapy, but one rule he did insist on was that the girls couldn’t play without it being a direct request from the client.
She glanced to the side, her throat bobbing with another swallow. “I want you to put that thing inside me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you with it?” Sam asked—because there could be no room for error.
“Yes,” she replied, and the next sound she made was a long, low groan as Sam slid the makeshift cock into her cunt. Her back arched her ass toward what she wanted, and her eyes closed. With an expelled breath parting her lips, Mrs Miller brought her hand from between her thighs, and Chase had to stifle his rumble of relief when those fingers wrapped back around his cock. Folding her mouth back around his head, too, she sucked and licked, her moan a choked sound that hummed against his shaft.
Chase cut his gaze to Sam, who paid study to only the task assigned her. The muscles of her arm clenched with each thrust of the dildo into Mrs Miller’s cunt, while the slight slackness of her jaw, the roll of her tongue over her lips, told Chase that his client wasn’t the only one enjoying the extra service. Judging by the tense concentration around her eyes, the steady pace of her thrusts, Sam held nothing back, and in response, the other woman jerked her ass back and forth almost manically, the wet sounds of her pleasure fast filling the air.
At any other time, in any other setting, Chase would have taken control already. His hands wouldn’t be gripping tight to the desk, but tangled in her hair, and he wouldn’
t be showing restraint, but ramming her head closer, cramming his cock into her mouth as fast and hard as he could while fucking her face until she begged for breath.
Hell, even Mr Miller had given up with composure. His hand had crept beneath his robe, and the steady taps against the underside of the fabric exposed just how much he enjoyed watching his wife fuck and be fucked. Just how much he enjoyed watching her on her knees with her lips wrapped around a cock and a cock in her cunt. How much of the scenario, Chase wondered, had he slid himself into inside his head? How much of it would replay in his dreams with himself as the leading role?
A quiet buzzing filled the air, one Chase recognised as the dildo being switched to vibrate. A hitched cry escaped Mrs Miller, until his cock shut the sound off, and as saliva trickled down his hard length, he held tighter to the desk. Ordering his hips to remain tamed, he let the mouth fucking take its course. With the muffled sounds of the wife getting more and more aroused, the slapping of Mr Miller’s hand against his thighs as he stroked himself with more urgency, the slow glazing of Sam’s eyes as she fell further into the moment, it took mere minutes for the muscles to coil through Chase’s thighs, the cramping to begin in his calves, the tight lifting of his balls that warned of his readiness.
At a high-pitched gasp from Mrs Miller, the first wave of euphoria bulleted through him. As her body bucked and backward-thrusted, cum shot from him fast and hot, filling her warm mouth with seed and relieving him of the pressure that had built throughout the session.
Over to his right, low, hard grunts came from Mr Miller, too, and as Chase opened his eyes that’d closed, the man’s outline jerked in the recognised spasm of ejaculation.
Nodding toward Sam told her to wrap the session up, and her arm movements slowed, the wind-down blessedly steadying Mrs Millers sucking and yanking, and when Sam stopped, the woman let out a groan that seemed as much from relief as regret.
Finally permitting himself contact, Chase guided Mrs Millers mouth from his cock, his body twitching once more from the sensation. Once free, she stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, her mouth hanging open like she didn’t know what to do with it since its job was over. Chase couldn’t help but notice that her husband looked slightly shell-shocked, too, when he spared a glance his way, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d sat through. Like he definitely couldn’t believe that he’d succumbed, himself.
“Why don’t you and Mrs Miller go and get yourself cleaned up, and we can discuss the results of today’s session in my office,” Chase said.
The guy didn’t argue. Just nodded, unsteadily got to his feet, and crossed the room to his wife. Taking her arm with one hand and placing the other in the small of her back, he helped her climb slowly to her feet. Only then did she release Chase’s cock, like she’d forgotten she held it.
Behind them, the door swung open and Raelyn walked in.
“Can you show Mr and Mrs Miller to the washroom?” Chase almost laughed at the polite smile on her face as she waved them toward the door. “And, Raelyn?” Waiting until she turned back, he added, “Please ensure Mrs Miller is provided with a dental hygiene kit.”
After one of his early clients had attempted to spit Chase’s cum into a sample bottle for self-impregnation, he’d made it a rule that all clients who got a taste of him be supervised until no trace of his semen existed.
“Certainly, Mr Walker.”
As soon as the door closed behind the three of them, Sam blew a breath upward that blasted her overhanging hair. “I don’t suppose you’re up for a quick fuck, are you?”
He laughed. “Not even slightly.”
Another rule he’d put in place:
He never fucked his staff
“You could always ask Rae, though,” he added.
At the tilt of her head and the easy smile she gave, he suspected she’d do exactly that. Which meant he also knew exactly what the two of them would be doing the moment they had a break.
***
Naked, with his hair dripping water down his spine, Chase stood in the staff quarter of the clinic, observing the client washroom on Screen C. The hidden camera showed Mr and Mrs Miller, both of them stepping from a single cubicle, their bodies moist and glistening from their shower. In all honesty, Chase had questioned whether their barriers would slam back into place as soon as the session ended, and it pleased him to know they’d washed together. If he rewound the recording, he’d probably find they’d even washed each other. Some leap, considering he doubted they’d ever shared a shower in all the years of their marriage.
Across from him, Sam shimmied into a clean thong before straightening her fresh linen dress over her thighs.
“They did well today,” he said simply.
She closed the small gap until standing next to him, squinting a little at the screen. Raelyn had told her countless times to get her eyes tested, but she never listened. “Better than expected?” she asked.
He nodded and reached up to towel off his hair. “A lot better.”
Along one wall of the room, mirrored doors hid a wardrobe lined with outfits, and dropping the damp towel into the laundry chute on route, he made his way over. Checking his reflection, he gave a smile of satisfaction at what he saw. Body muscled, yet sleek. A face unlined by worry, and green eyes that shone from the anticipation of life alone. The flopping mop atop his head, usually a white-gold blonde, had been darkened by moisture, and combing his fingers through the strands, he slid open one of the wardrobe doors.
No contemplation was needed for which outfit to select. Each pair of trousers resembled those either side of it, and the shirts all matched, also. Drawing out one of each, Chase turned back to watch the screen as he dressed.
Although they didn’t go so far as towelling each other down, the couple seemed to have trouble keeping their attentions to themselves. Each time Mrs Miller sent a shy glance her husband’s way, Mr Miller responded with an easy smile. Almost as though the two of them stood planning what they’d like to do to the other and were letting each other know by way of silent communication.
Leaving his trousers unclipped, Chase started on the buttons of his shirt, while the couple onscreen began the task of dressing themselves. Though she did so with her back to her husband, Mrs Millers glanced back at him over her shoulder plenty of times, and each time she did, her husband was already staring, already watching. Already smiling.
Chase tapped the screen. “This. This is exactly how a couple should be looking at each other after eighteen years of marriage.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not married,” Sam said, pouting. “Because I can’t get a guy to look at me like that after one week.”
“So, quit fucking them all on the first night, then.”
“But I like fucking,” she said with a smile, and Chase had to laugh.
Sam’s love of sex, and being very fucking good at it, had been what’d qualified her for the job at the clinic in the first place. Both she and Raelyn were experts in the field. Hell, he’d booked them as a package deal on several occasions, in the days before the clinic, and when he’d needed staff he could trust to accompany him on his new venture, they’d been his first choice. So much so, he’d happily paid over the odds to have them released into his employ, and to ensure their filthy fucking pimp stayed off the radar.
After tucking his shirt in, he secured his waistband, reaching for a slate-grey tie, as Samantha slipped a foot into a heeled shoe.
“You almost ready?” she asked, balancing on her elevated foot to pull the other heel on.
“Give me five minutes before you bring them through,” he said.
Once alone, he buzzed over his hair with the dryer, before combing the strands into place. While unruly if left—a look he preferred when on his own time—his hair was always worn sleek and tidy for work, if only to upkeep the professional profile for which he strived.
Six minutes later, he sat propped on the edge of his desk, as the door opened and Rae ushered Mr and Mrs Miller i
nto the room. From the lack of eye contact, the switching expressions, the wife looked like she didn’t know whether to smile or laugh, or be completely mortified at the prospect of facing Chase after what had occurred in their session.
“How’re you feeling after your shower?” Chase asked, when they swayed to a stop a couple of metres in front of him.
“Refreshed,” Mr Miller uttered, while his wife merely nodded.
“Good. So …” His gaze scanned over their faces before dropping toward their linked hands between them. “I felt that today’s session went very well. Do you agree?”
They mumbled their agreement, but at least both of them smiled as they did so.
“I’d like to book you in for one week from today for the next step in your plan—would that be convenient for you both?”
Mrs Miller glanced up at her husband before looking back to Chase. “We can make it convenient.”
He had to stifle his grin. “Good. And between now and then, I want you to exercise restraint.”
Their eyebrows rose slightly.
“I want you to practice your communication skills. I want to you continue to let each other know exactly what you want, or need.” He pushed up from his desk, both sets of eyes on him as he took a step closer. “If you feel like fucking—and you will feel like fucking …” He rounded the couple, stroked a hand down Mr Miller’s arm as he reached him, and as their eyes locked, he held the other man’s gaze for a longer moment than necessary. “Then, you make sure your partner knows. I don’t care where you are.” He circled them again, and while neither of them turned to follow, the tilting of their heads told him they were wholly aware of his presence and position. “I don’t care who you are with …” Stepping before them, he twisted until he faced them and stared directly at Mr Miller. “If you feel like drinking from your wife’s cunt …” He stepped in until his body met Mrs Miller’s and leaned in until his lips met her ear. “Then, you damned well find a way to tell her,” he whispered, smiling at the shiver that rippled through her.
Sex Therapy: Episode 1 (Sex Therapy #1) Page 2