Saturday, February 9, 2008

A Little Time On My Hands

Last night my plans changed and I found myself with an evening at home. At first this was disappointing, but I easily found something to do.

I watched boring, re-run TV for a little while (Please, writers and studios, figure this out! I cannot watch another Numbers re-run!). But, I was restless. I sat down with my laptop and wandered over to some blogs that can usually stir something in me. After a while, I wandered into my bedroom and took off my clothes. I don't generally become completely naked, but last night I wanted the feel of the sheets along my body.

My mind ran through a few of the fantasies that provide me with excitement. The movies in my head in which I am the star. I landed here, at this iteration (there are a few different versions) of the one I come back to, over and over.

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I'm in a therapists office. I've come to him because I feel that I masturbate too much. He specializes in sex therapy for women and after a few visits of discussing why I think masturbating at least once every day is too much, he's moved our sessions into more intimate territory. He asks me if I would share a fantasy with him. A masturbation fantasy. Something I use in my head to excite myself.

I'm nervous about telling him, but I also realize I'm excited about it. I begin to tell him a rather tame one I've had where I'm "hired" by a couple who want to watch me masturbate. I tell him how I'm sitting in a chair with my legs spread and up on the arms, touching myself, as they sit on the couch opposite me and watch. I tell him how the man begins to get an erection and I can see it rising up through his robe.

The therapist interrupts me and I realize that I've closed my eyes. He asks me how I'm feeling telling him this. I tell him it's easier with my eyes closed. He wonders if I'm getting excited by relating this to him, and I tell him yes. He asks if that's what I like, being watched. I tell him yes. He asks me to continue.

I proceed on, telling him the details of this couple watching me. How the man eventually removes his robe and begins to stroke his...I stumble a bit. What do I call it? In front of my therapist? Do I say cock? Penis? I simply say erection and my therapist stops me again, noticing my uncertainty.

"What do you call it in your head?"

"Cock" I say.

"Well, unless you're too shy, you should say now what you say in your head."

Okay. I back track and say that the man removes his robe and begins to stroke his cock. I say that while he is watching me masturbate, I am watching him. His wife watches us both and we're all very excited. The therapist stops me again.

"Does this excite you? To watch a man stroke himself?"

Pause.

"Yes."

After a minute of silence, I continue on with my fantasy. My eyes are still closed, except for the times he interrupts me, when I open them and look at him. I'm somewhat embarrassed when I look at him, but not as embarrassed as I thought I would be. And I'm becoming more and more excited. I wonder how much I can continue without having to touch myself. In front of my therapist. But, even thinking that makes me ashamed.

I've been talking all this while, telling him the details of my fantasy, until he stops me again. Again, he checks in on how I'm feeling. He doesn't prompt me, so I just say I'm feeling excited. I say very excited.

"Would you like to masturbate now?"

My eyes fly open and I look right at him. My heart begins to pound and I find I'm a little scared. But also the idea of it is overwhelming. I almost spread my legs on impulse.

"You mean, right now? Here? In front of you?"

"Yes."

That's all he says. Yes. He leaves the rest to me. He looks so passive. Not the predator you would think of a man asking a woman if she wants to expose herself to him. He looks passive and almost clinical. He says nothing as my mind races and I bounce back and forth between all the emotions this brings to me. Fear, excitement, embarrassment, embarrassment at wanting to do it, desire for exposure.

"Okay" I say.

For a moment, we both just sit there. I don't quite know what to do and he seems to be patient to let me figure it out. I take a deep breath and begin to raise my skirt up to my hips. Underneath I have on only panties. I raise my skirt and slowly spread my legs. I am looking down at what I'm doing because I cannot yet look at him. I see that there's a wet spot on my panties and I'm embarrassed by this. I pause and try to decide if I'm going to actually take them off. And then I have a moment of surrender. To myself. To my desire. I want to do this, so I'm going to do it, dammit. I slide them down and off my legs and spread my legs apart.

Feeling the cool of his leather couch on my ass adds to the clinical feel of this whole endeavor. And I like that. This is for evaluative purposes. He wants to watch me so that he can determine something about me. So that he can truly help me.

He's been quiet throughout this, but then says,

"Are you okay?"

"Yes", I say. Looking up for the first time at him. He looks the same as he did the last time I looked at him. Passive. Comfortable in his chair. Looking me in the eye.

"Before we proceed, I want to tell you that I will, and am, going to become excited watching you. It's inevitable. I'm human and this excites me. Will that make you uncomfortable?"

"No", I say quickly. Because it won't, in fact, I quite like the idea. He knows this because of what I admitted from my fantasy a moment ago. I wonder if he wants, in this way, to make my fantasy a reality.

"I may need to" he pauses "attend to myself. I may need to stroke myself while watching you."

"Yes", I say somewhat breathlessly. I find as he's telling me this I've begun to spread my legs wider. He just nods and becomes quiet again. Slowly my hands make their way to my cunt and I begin to rub my clit. I am so wet at this point I'm sure I'm dripping onto his couch. I try to go slowly, I want to drag this out, I don't want to come on impact.

"So, you're masturbating and they're watching you" he prompts. Getting me back to my fantasy.

"Yes", but that is all I can say. My eyes are not closed. I am in this moment, not in my fantasy anymore. My eyes are open, my legs are spread, my cunt is dripping and exposed and I am looking right at him.

He sense this and just watches me. Our eyes are locked until, slowly, he lowers his eyes and watches my hands. I realize that is what I've wanted. I want him to watch me. I lower my left hand and spread my labia apart to expose my clit to my finger. An involuntary moan leaves my throat and I see him take a deep breath as he watches.

My eyes close for a minute as I become immersed in the pleasure and the excitement of this whole experience. I'm aware of him, but also need a moment to just feel myself. To feel my hands on myself. To feel how good it feels to be watched. By my therapist.

My reverie is broken by the sound of his zipper. I gasp a little as I realize what he's doing. I've not opened my eyes yet. I want to wait. After a moment I open them and see him sitting now rather upright in his chair with his erect cock in his hand. Slowly stroking up and down. And now I watch him. And we watch each other and the excitement and heat in the room is palpable.

Suddenly, as if overcome, he stands. His pants fall to the ground and he steps out of them. Slowly, still stroking his cock, he walks towards me.

"Can I be closer to you?"

"Yes...yes."

He comes so close he is almost touching the edge of the couch. His cock is close to me. I could almost lift up and pull it into my mouth. I am tempted to, but I resist. No, that's not for here.

I stop what I'm doing and quickly unbutton my blouse and remove it. I unhook my bra and remove it. I cup my breasts and squeeze my nipples.

"I want you to come on my tits."

He takes a quick step back and stops his motion.

"I don't know."

"Yes, I want that. Please."

I resume my attentions to my throbbing cunt and impulsively plunge one, then two, fingers into my hole. He sees this and begins again to stroke his cock. Now faster and in time to my motion. He steps forward again and we're so close. So synchronized. Our motions and emotions in tune to this moment of sharing our pleasure.

Stepping forward even more, I know he is going to come. I sit up straight and push my tits forward for him.

"Please."

With a wild moan at the back of his throat he pushes his hips forward and directs his stream of come onto my chest. Spurting over and over, groaning with release, I am overwhelmed and come with a loud cry.

"Oh, yes."

Time stands still for that moment and there's nothing in the room but our breathing and the smell of our sex.

Then he steps back and turning towards his chair begins to put himself to rights and dress. I grab the tissues and clean myself off and also begin to dress. When we're both somewhat together he sits back down and we sit in the silence. It's not uncomfortable.

"We've shared something that I think will benefit our work together greatly." he says quietly.

I smile and nod. Slowly I gather my things and stand. He stands as well and we both head towards the door. Putting his hand on my shoulder he leans in and softly kisses my cheek.

"You can call me if you need to." he says.

I nod acknowledgement.

"Otherwise, I'll see you next week."

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10 comments:

HSWLOVER said...

mmmmmmmmmm

e

ATLLG said...

OK I'm worthless now... And my chair at home is a big leather chair....I'll never look across to the couch and not think of YOU, Eve.

which I like very much

nitebyrd said...

I need THAT kind of therapy, to be sure!

Rupert said...

Do I sense a trend with you and doctors???

The UnaDater said...

I have suddenly for the first time in life have a fantasy where I want to be a sex therapist and fuck the hell out of my patients!

Out did that happen?

unadater.com

Eve in Chains said...

It's a funny affect my fantasies seem to have on people. They're universal?

Thanks for stopping by, UD. Always nice to have a fellow NY'er on the sex blogrolls.

Eve

Phil said...

Eve, as a former therapist, I have to admit that in real life I had the same reaction your fantasy therapist did. I never had a session like that, but for you I'd glady waive the co-pay.

Phil said...

Eve, I also just noticed you used the phrase "fellow New Yorker." Interesting...

Eve in Chains said...

Phil, is it interesting because you're a New Yorker?

A former therapist. Hmmm...still taking any clients?

Eve

Remittance Girl said...

Hi Eve,

I loved your fantasy with a fantasy. It's nicely thought out and nicely written, but here is my dilemma - and it's always this way in scenarios where you have this sort of power imbalance - there is a delicious, clinical distance until the point where he approaches and cums. I've been ruminating a long time on how to have the co-involvement while still, somehow, maintaining the distance. Literarily, I haven't figured it out yet.

In the meantime, hot, hot hot... fantasy, Eve!

Hugs,

RG