by Q. B. Tyler
I clear my throat and realize that the walls are closing in. “Water…can I have some water?” I say looking at him.
I need air and he’s crowding me. I can’t think when he’s this close. I’m trying so hard to keep the dirty thoughts of letting him fuck me right on this couch, where I usually sit with my husband, out of my head. But every time he speaks, every time I breathe in his scent, I have a flash of his cock sliding through my folds and I have to resist the moan sitting in the back of my throat.
He gets up and moves to the side of the room where I watch him pouring something. When he returns, he has a glass in each hand. One is water and the other is an amber liquid. He puts both on the table in front of me and I look up. I grab the amber liquid and waft it under my nose before setting it down. “A little early for whiskey, don’t you think?” I down the water in one gulp.
“You seemed a little wound up. I thought you could use it to calm your nerves. You’re never like this in therapy.” He sits back down next to me and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. You study people’s body language; can’t you see I need space!? “Well, no sense in letting this go to waste.” He downs the whiskey quickly, as if it were a shot. I stare at him with wide eyes as he swallows the liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as it slides down his throat.
My eyes drift away from his mouth as I try and put together a sentence. “You’re never…usually you sit there.” I point at the chair in front of me.
“So, I make you nervous, then?”
“Ummm…” I fight the words dying to leave my mouth.
Yes, you make me nervous because I’ve been fantasizing about you for months. You make me nervous because I’m sitting here wondering what it would be like to taste your cum.
“Why do I make you nervous? Do I scare you?”
“No.”
“Do you think I would hurt you?”
“No.”
“Do you trust me?”
I chance a look at him and immediately regret it because I see the mask he’s been hiding behind slip for the first time. I haven’t been out of the game so long that I don’t know when a man wants me. This man wants me.
Your move, Charley. What do you want?
“Yes,” I say letting out a breath. And I wonder what exactly I’m saying yes to.
His question about whether I trust him, or…something else?
“This morning,” I say before he can respond to my answer. He looks at me confused and I continue, “I made myself come this morning.”
He looks me over from head to toe and I’m beginning to see this conversation take a dangerous turn. “How?”
“How did I make myself come?”
He nods, and I can see his resolve weakening.
But do I want it to? Or do I want him to stay strong. He’s my therapist. I’m in marriage counseling.
“My hand.”
His eyes drop to my hands in my lap. “What did you think about?”
I certainly know what I’ll be thinking about the second I get home. Hell, maybe sooner. It wouldn’t surprise me if I had my hand inside of my panties the second I get to my car. “My husband. When the sex was good.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he says immediately.
I furrow my brows. “I’m not!”
“A fantasy is just that, Charlotte, a fantasy. It’s usually something deliciously forbidden. An act that isn’t safe anywhere but within the four corners of your mind. Words you can’t even bring yourself to utter out loud. Maybe after you come you feel a moment of clarity before the inevitable shame that comes with your nasty thoughts. But it’s there. It’s always there, lurking.”
“You seem to know a lot about these forbidden fantasies.”
“Not until recently.”
“Is that so?” I wonder if I might be the star of the dirty thoughts he has while he runs his hand up and down his shaft. The thought does nothing for my racing heart or the ache between my legs. “What do you think about then?”
He shakes his head. “We aren’t here to talk about me.”
“Tell me.”
“No, Charlotte.”
“Is it…someone you can’t have?” I push further and his eyes narrow at me.
“I can have anyone I want,” he tells me and I wonder if I’ve struck a nerve.
I swallow as I feel the air slowly leaving the room. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. “Not your patients. Legally, you can’t have them.”
“I’m a marriage counselor. Morally, I can’t have them either.”
“I know. It makes the fantasy even more sinful.” I know I’m playing with fire right now and I wonder if Dr. Montgomery will indulge me in this sexy game of cat and mouse. I don’t see myself giving in to the urges but I’m dying to get close. “It’s the thrill of the forbidden.”
“So, that’s what turns you on?”
I look at him and the look he’s giving me is unmistakable. He wants me. Now. But, how bad?
“Isn’t that everyone? The things that make you touch yourself in the middle of the night? The things that send a spike in your heart rate?”
“Some are perfectly happy without the thrill.”
“Sounds boring.” I shrug.
“Says the woman in a relationship with a man who gives her thrill-less, boring sex.”
“He’s my husband.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Is it?” My eyes snap to his. Can he say that?
“What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means, Charlotte?”
Typical counselor response. I let out a breath and prepare myself for the words dying to leave my mouth. “I think it means you want to fuck me.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Does that thought scare you? Or will that have you touching yourself in the middle of the night?” His breath is on my cheek. I turn to him and our faces are a mere inch apart.
“There’s a difference between fantasy and reality. If I cross this line there’s no coming back from it.”
“Do you want to come back from it?” He leans closer.
“I want the excitement.” I can hear my heart pounding. I wet my lips and I watch his eyes drop to the sudden movement.
“And I excite you?” he asks, his eyes still fixated on my lips.
“Fucking my marriage counselor does.”
His eyes shoot up to mine. “Just the idea of it?” His breath surrounds me. All I have to do is move a millimeter for our lips to touch. I’m silent. “Tell me I can.”
“Can what?”
“Touch you.”
“Where?” I ask knowing full well where he means.
“You know where.” His voice so low, it sends a shiver through me.
I look down at the growing tent in his pants. “Please.”
His hand glides up my thigh and I almost jump through the ceiling at the spark that shoots through me from his fingertips. “Stand up,” he says. I swallow before following his directions. He stands as well before walking past me toward the door. I’m shocked when he walks out of it. Was this a test? Oh my God, what if this was all to see if I’m loyal to Matthew? What if Matthew is here?
My eyes widen as he walks back through the door, thankfully alone, and the sound of the click as he locks the door resounds off the walls.
“Where did you go?” I ask softly.
“I told my assistant to hold my calls and also that she needed to fetch us some lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I,” he says, his eyes darkening. “At least not for food.” I swallow as he makes his way back to me. “Would you like to act out one of my fantasies, Ms. Pierce?”
“Oh, now I’m Ms. Pierce?”
“For the sake of this fantasy you are.”
“Is that your fantasy? Sex with other men’s wives? Your patients?” He stands behind me, drawing his hands up my sides dangerously slow.
“No.” His voic
e sounds like sex and sin, and I feel my legs buckle. “Sex with Matthew Wells’ wife is my fantasy.”
“So, you have some vendetta against my husband then?”
I feel his hands on the zipper of my pencil skirt, sliding it down. The sound cuts through the air and the tension crackling between us.
“Yes. He has this deliciously sexy wife and he doesn’t know what to do with her. It’s a waste really. Here’s this sexual creature not getting her needs met. He takes you for granted, Charlotte.”
“I’m aware.”
“Leave him,” he says as if the answer is obvious.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Can you not counsel me…right now?” I say, my skirt now pooled at my feet. He kneels behind me and I feel his breath on my right cheek before I feel his lips. I can’t suppress the moan that escapes my lips. It’s been so long since lips have touched my skin in this way. I forgot it could feel like this. His lips are light, as he trails kisses up till they meet the curve of my ass. He plucks my thong and I yelp as the fabric snaps against the slick flesh between my legs
“I’m not counseling you. As a man who is about to be inside of another man’s wife, I want to know what it is about this marriage that keeps you…trapped in it. Is it money?” He stands to look at me.
“I don’t want to do this now,” I say as he begins to unbutton my blouse one at a time. He hums his appreciation when my blouse joins my skirt on the floor. I’m standing before him in a black bra and white panties and he narrows his eyes slightly.
“I would have suspected you’d be the matching-set type, but I like it.” He leans forward to place a kiss to the space just between my breasts and begins to pepper kisses down my torso. He stops at the top of my underwear and drags his tongue along the skin. I wonder if he’s having second thoughts when he presses his nose to my sex and drags it along the slit, deeply inhaling my scent. I shudder, as I try to make sense of the most erotic moment of my life. I expect him to rip my panties from my body now, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rubs his tongue along the satin fabric, penetrating me slightly through my panties. I look down at him as he finally lowers the material down my legs. “Once I have a taste I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”
He’s giving you an out, Charlotte. Are you ready to jump down this rabbit hole? I stare into his gorgeous blue eyes, filled with something that I haven’t seen in so long.
Desire.
I stare at the face that’s only a breath away from the place that has long been neglected of this act of intimacy as I contemplate the decision.
This is it, Charley. Now or never.
* * *
THAT WAS FOUR MONTHS AGO. Four months ago, on the first Monday of May, I gave into my primal urges and let my marriage counselor fuck me all over his office. When I left, two and a half hours later, I was sore, sated, and slightly ashamed, but I was blissfully happy and couldn’t wait for more. Two days later, he fucked me on his desk just before my session with my husband started.
Two days after that, he personally called Matthew to let him know our session was cancelled, while I sat in his lap.
Naked.
Yes, we were playing with fire, and yes, I felt guilty, but I couldn’t stop. It felt too good.
I felt alive.
Fast forward four months, and I know without a doubt I’m in too deep. I’m falling for one man while I belong to another. The recklessness could end this man’s career as well as my marriage.
Hell, it would end us both.
He explores my folds with his tongue, bringing me back to the present. He laps up every ounce of arousal that has been forming since I woke up this morning, my body humming with anticipation over seeing him today.
“God, you taste so sweet,” he murmurs. His tongue slides through my entrance, fucking me before drawing a path up to my clitoris. He spreads my lips with his fingers as he eats me hungrily, his tongue gliding back and forth across me spreading my arousal. My hands move to his hair and I relish in the silky feeling under my fingertips. I begin to scratch his scalp and am rewarded with a guttural moan that sends shivers down my spine. His hands grip my thighs harder. “Again,” he orders, so I do, which to my excitement only makes him lick more aggressively.
“Fuck,” I moan. There’s nothing within arm’s reach so I do the most cliché thing I can think of. I put my fist to my mouth and bite down hard on it in the effort to quiet the orgasm that is moving through me quick as lightning. “Oh God, Will. I’m right there.” My toes curl as I feel every nerve in my body stretch to reach the delicious release that’s only a beat away. In an instant, his eyes look up from between my legs to find mine. I’m sitting on his desk as he kneels in front of me, his sincere blue eyes tracing my face. I can’t look away, our eyes locked during this intimate moment. I’m at the edge, waiting to jump when he slides two fingers into my dripping pussy and I come completely undone, my legs shaking under the grip of his strong hands, as I roll my hips against his face.
Holy fuck.
I feel his tongue flick against my clit one last time and I twitch, slowly pushing his face from my crotch. “Oh my God.” I close my eyes, the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had still flowing through my body. He drags his lips along my right thigh, kissing and sucking the skin before he stands up to tower over me. I rub my hand along his jaw, feeling the wetness of my arousal on his skin.
“I swear the only time I’m truly at peace is when I’m between your legs.” His words are soft, yet they hit me hard. He cups my cheeks and grazes his lips over mine. My eyes flutter closed as the smell of my orgasm on his lips wafts all around me.
His thumb traces my lips and slips it in slightly. I bite down on his finger, relishing in the sensation of him inside my mouth.
I need another part of him in my mouth.
“My turn.” I wink devilishly as I slide my naked body from his desk and lower myself to my knees. I run my hands up his legs, letting my fingers graze the leather brown belt as I release it from the loops, letting his black slacks fall to his ankles. His cock presses against the fabric, dying to be freed from the confines of his black, Calvin Klein briefs. I slide his underwear down his legs and his powerful erection juts out.
“Touch me, baby,” I hear him say, and when I look up his hooded gaze is fixed on me. I lean forward and place my hand at the base of his dick. My tongue darts out to wet my lips and his hand finds my chin, squeezing it gently. I look up at him from where I kneel between his legs, a vast difference from our prior vantage points. “You are so beautiful.”
I give him a cheeky grin. “My mouth is a centimeter from your cock; I’ll bet you think so.” I giggle. He grips my chin harder.
“You are beautiful, Charley,” he repeats and the way he says it, mixed with the name that my husband refuses to call me—because Charlotte is so much more effeminate—makes my heart swell. “God, when you look up at me like that. It takes everything in me not to come on the spot.”
I gently tickle the head of his cock with my tongue and he twitches in response, the cum pooling at the tip already. I close my lips around his tip and slide further down until he reaches the back of my throat. I swallow in an attempt to open my throat and push him further and he hardens even more.
“Fucking yes,” he hisses through what I assume to be gritted teeth. “Do that again.” I do as he says, attempting to swallow his cock whole and his hands find my hair, pulling as much of my hair as he can into a ponytail on the top of my head. I begin to suck his dick faster, as his thrusts meet my face. His body shakes with the force of his impending orgasm when he suddenly pulls from my mouth. He drops from between my lips, a trail of spit connecting my mouth and his dick and I swipe my tongue across my lips effectively breaking the sexy trail. “I want to be inside of you when I come.”
He pulls me to my feet and traces my face, his fingers stroking my cheeks just below my eyes. Despite the sexual intensity of the moment, I feel the sincerity radi
ating off of him as he studies me. No one has ever looked at me like this. Like I’m the most important person in the world. Hell, Matt doesn’t even look at me like I’m the most important person in the room. He guides me to the couch and lays me on my back, the brown leather couch cooling my heated skin. His hands find my breasts and his thumbs brush over my nipples, the calloused pads causing shivers to run down my spine.
He hovers over me, pressing his face into my neck. I hear the familiar rip of the foil and then he pushes inside of me. “God, you’re perfect.” In the beginning, the sex was rushed, the passion coursing through our veins made us almost animalistic. This was different. After four months, we’d gone from frenzied fucking to passionate lovemaking. I can feel each ridge of his cock as he fills me completely, the tightness of my vaginal walls making a snug space for his thick member.
His lips find mine as he begins to thrust into me. I taste the sweat from our tryst on his lips and instantly I crave more. I run my tongue over both of them in attempts to collect the moisture and he darts his out to catch mine, drawing it back into his mouth. “You are amazing. I want you every fucking minute,” he says between thrusts. “I’m going to come. I need you to get there.”
His words have me racing toward my orgasm. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, and I can feel the beat pulse in my sex letting me know that I’m close. “Touch me.” His hand finds my clit, and it only takes a few strokes of his finger over the sensitive spot before I explode. The force of my orgasm causing my body to shake with intensity. He must have been holding off because in the midst of my orgasm I feel him swell inside of me and groan.