Gift
by Cactus Juggler
It was a week before my husband George’s fortieth birthday when Dr. Ward first hypnotized me. I have to wonder if the therapist had ever heard a request like mine, or if any therapist anywhere had, for that matter.
The house was covered in white wood siding, and there was a sign on the front lawn, complete with two small spotlights, proclaiming the house to be the office of Dr. Charles Ward. Under his name, happy looking script advertised his services as therapy, couples therapy and hypnosis.
Driving by the house no less than twice a day on average, I’d never thought much about the therapist’s office. With George’s birthday fast approaching, I was getting desperate though. I’d only gone into the office on a spur of the moment whim, only meaning to inquire about the possibility of finding a solution to my problem.
I loved George; he was a fantastic husband and my best friend. Over time, the fact that I just couldn’t manage to give him the one “special” sexual experience I knew he truly desired ate away at me. He’d never had anal sex, and while he’d never pressured me, he did ask me to indulge his desire.
The problem was that I had no interest in that, and when we did finally try it things went wrong from the start. I was tense and uncomfortable and it just got worse from there.
It was so bad that he only managed to push the tip inside me before I cried out so loud that he stopped the whole disaster himself out of shame for what he was putting me through.
After that I felt even guiltier, so I bought some toys and lube and tried to practice on my own, meaning to surprise him with the gift of my new more inviting butt—that is, until I couldn’t manage to relax myself enough to even pretend to enjoy the smallest toy.
Two years later, I’d got it into my head that I was going to finally give him what he wanted for his fortieth birthday. I knew the problem was psychological, it had to be, and instead of driving by the white house with the sign advertising hypnotherapy, that day I pulled into the driveway and went inside.
After a small outer area the size of a big closet, where there were only a chair and a coat rack, I passed through the open inner door to an office that was really more like a converted sun room added on to the front of the house. The windows on three sides were covered with blinds that were closed for privacy.
“Hi there. I’m Dr. Ward,” he said as he came around the desk and offered me his hand.
It was mortifying just to meet him. He was both younger and better looking than I’d assumed. He was probably in his middle thirties at most. He had a great smile though, and a warm manner that somehow had me opening up to him when he offered to do a session with me right then.
“Relax, anything you tell me will stay in this room. As your therapist I’m bound from repeating anything you tell me, with few exceptions.”
He turned a sign on the outside of the inner door and closed it, and I settled down on the couch opposite the chair he sat in.
“I’m not sure I can talk about this. It’s too, well it’s embarrassing.”
He smiled at me again. “This is a safe place, Denise. You can tell me anything and feel no fear of being judged. This is what I do,” he assured me.
Admitting such a personal problem to a stranger was hard, but somehow I found myself telling this charming, attractive man every detail of my failed quest to give my husband the anal sex he deserved.
By the time I was done, I was past the point of no return. After sharing what I had, there was nothing left to be lost. When he suggested that perhaps hypnosis might allow me to get finally get over my hang-ups, I agreed after only a moment’s thought to give it a go.
He warned me that it would likely take more than one session, and explained his fees, and I repeated my agreement before he continued.
“Don’t worry; this will just be like taking a relaxing, soothing little power nap. All you have to do is want this, and I should be able to help you. So before we begin, let me make sure I understand what you want. The goal here today, the goal that we’re both going to try to achieve, is to help you relax and enjoy anal sex.”
Hearing him say it, even after what I’d told him, made me blush anew.
“Your desired outcome is to take pleasure from anal sex, and be rid of the anxiety you experienced in the past. Only you can make this work, so you have to want this, to want me to help you.”
It was humiliating to talk about it, but it was a bit of a relief as well. He didn’t seem fazed by my admission, and I felt somewhat soothed by his calm, professional demeanor.
“Do you want me to help you, Denise? Will you trust me to help you learn to enjoy, and even desire anal sex?”
I nodded, and he had me lie back on the couch and close my eyes. He told me to imagine myself in a white room with a series of objects. He described them, and described how warm and comfortable I felt in the soft, fluffy white couch in the soft fluffy white room.
“Look at the clock on the table in the white room. Let the clock fade away, and let your perception of time fade with it. Feel yourself sinking deeper into the soft white couch, so soft and comfortable now that you can barely feel your feet and arms at all, they’re floating and relaxed to the point that you’re not even aware they’re there.”
He continued like this, until the last of the items in the white room disappeared, and I drifted away into the foggy state of complete relaxation.
It took me a moment to remember where I was when he awoke me. I sat up on the couch, and looked at him with uncertainty.
“Is that it?”
“What do you mean, Denise?”
“Surely it must take longer than that,” I said.
He smiled, and then looked to his right. I followed his gaze, and stared at the clock. Almost an hour had passed, passed as if it was an instant.
“Oh wow. I . . . I mean, did it work?”
“We won’t know for certain until you try, and I’d like to do some more sessions to reinforce the work we did today in any case. That said, I think you’ll see the difference soon enough. You’re a very good subject.”
He looked pleased with his work, and I found myself feeling better already about my birthday surprise. George was going to be so happy, I couldn’t wait to tell him.
“How will I know if it’s working?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble telling. In fact, I think you’ll start to see the effects quicker than you might think.”
We discussed payment, and my next session. I shook his hand again and thanked him before I turned and walked to the door. He spoke just before I reached it, “You know, you really do have a lovely ass on you, Denise.”
It was a shocking thing for him to say. I felt my face flush hot as first embarrassment, and then anger filled me. I turned to look at him, and he just smiled. My whole body tingled with heat, and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t just upset with him, there was something else. I was . . . aroused.
“It’s so lovely that I can’t help thinking how much I’d like to be inside it,” he continued.
“Excuse me?”
“An ass like that just makes me think about how tight it would feel when I slowly push my fat cock deeper and deeper inside. I’m getting turned on just thinking about it right now. How about you? Does the thought of it turn you on, Denise?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was outrageous. But I couldn’t concentrate on my anger with my body responding the way it was. My pussy throbbed with arousal, and for some reason all I could think about was the way it would feel to have his cock inside me. Not just inside me—up my ass.
Then I realized what he was doing.
“This is some kind of test, right? I-I think it’s working.”
He stood up and approached me. I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. “Test? What do you mean? I’m just saying that your ass is so gorgeous that it has an effect on me. Look,” he said, and then his hands dropped to his waist and he started to undo his pants.
“I-I have to go now.”
It was already clear that his hypnotic suggestions were working in me, and as hot as I felt it was horrifying to feel that arousal directed at someone other than George. What did he think he was doing? Did he really think he could get away with this?
He had his pants open, and when he pushed down his boxers and his erection sprang free. He was pretty big, and despite myself I stared at it.
“I’m showing you what I’m talking about. Your ass makes me horny, Denise. Look at my cock. Look at how hard I am from thinking about fucking your hot ass.”
“I-I have to go. This isn’t what I wanted. I love my husband,” I told him, but still I gawked at his impressive manhood.
“Don’t fight it Denise. Can you really look at this big dick and tell me that you don’t want to feel it inside you? That you don’t want me to bend you over my desk take you from behind? I don’t believe that for a minute,” he said, and then he stepped closer to me.
My body yearned for him in a way that was beyond resistance. I hadn’t ever been this turned on before. My traitorous pussy wanted him so much that I could feel my wetness soaking the crotch of my white cotton panties. Why hadn’t I worn sexier underwear? Sexier underwear—oh God, what was wrong with me?
Staring at the thick length of his manhood pushed away my confusion and shame. The sight of that big dick left only one thought in my head. The only thing I could think of was hot it would be to do it, to lean over his desk and let him ram me right there. He moved behind me and then his hands were on my hips. I shuddered at his touch, and a moan escaped me.
“This is wrong,” I said, but I didn’t try to stop him as he guided me towards his desk.
“Then why does it feel so right?” he asked in my ear.
I was dripping wet. I needed that big dick, needed to feel it filling my ass. It wasn’t a matter of right and wrong any more, the all that mattered was my ass and how much it hungered for his cock. His big, thick, hard cock.
I had to have it. A needful moan escaped my lips. It was humiliating to have my desire so openly visible, but that just made it hotter. My wanton need to be fucked like a dirty whore overrode any embarrassment.
“It does feel right, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I admitted with another moan. I could feel his erection pressing against me. A few steps more and we were there, my legs pressed up against the desk. His lips brushed my neck while his hands fumbled at my slacks. It felt so good that he had my pants and panties down around my knees before I realized it.
“Bend over.”
His hands pushed me down, gentle but firm all the same, and I let him do it until I was laying with my breasts and head mashed down on its surface, my rear obscenely exposed to him.
I felt his cock press against my exposed slit for a moment, and then he pushed forward and buried himself inside me. The sensation of him filling my cunt felt wonderful but I wanted more. I wanted him to take me the way George had always so desired, but that I had always refused. I wanted to feel him in my ass.
“Somebody’s a horny little slut, isn’t she? That’s good, the lubrication will help.”
He withdrew himself and I wiggled my rear back towards him in invitation. He was right—at that moment I was a horny slut. I wanted him like I’d never wanted anything. When he pressed the head of his manhood against my rear opening, I groaned with anticipation.
“Beg for it, you dirty little tramp. Beg me to fuck your ass,” he demanded.
Somehow his nasty words only made me hotter. I was dripping wet, exposed and bent over his desk and all I could think about was that hard cock of his and how it wasn’t inside me. Yet.
“Fuck my ass. Do it, fuck my ass. Please fuck my ass,” I pleaded.
His cock pushed against my back entrance and I tried to relax myself there to receive him, but he felt so big, too big. He grunted and pushed harder still, until I felt my ass being was forced to relent, swallowing the tip of him in one rushed bite.
“God, you do have a tight little asshole, don’t you?”
It hurt, but at the same time it felt so good that I gave a sound that was a mixed squeal of pain and arousal. He paused there with just the swollen head inside me and I bit my lip and groaned at the sensation of my ass being forced to stretch to accept him.
He pushed deeper and deeper, filling me. I groaned and shuddered as he invaded my rear, it was an extreme feeling—he wasn’t just fucking me, he was pushing my limits, delving a territory unexplored as he forced himself all the way inside me. I felt like I was his; somehow I knew that he was making me his as I grunted and moaned there, speared on his cock.
I struggled to admit him so deeply, but as much as it hurt, this was a good pain. A pain that I didn’t want to stop, because it was just proof that I was being fucked in the ass and loving it, fucked like some kind of slutty whore. Fucked like I needed to be fucked. My pussy drooled and I didn’t resist, I just closed my eyes and moaned as he screwed me, at first slow, but then with increasing speed and strength.
The sound of my moans was joined with that of his body slapping against my rear cheeks, every meaty whack timed perfectly with our moans.
I was shaking and heaving with pleasure and pain, reaching and grabbing at the desk as he fucked me. Rational thought was gone, there was only helpless need. Just pleasure and pain. Mindless, but unable to shut up, I muttered helplessly as he pushed forward with relentless force.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” someone muttered as we both came.
Sometime after I regained my breath, he withdrew from me and did up his pants. My shame returned as I pulled my own clothing back into place, but the pleasurable glow of being fucked like the dirty little butt slut I was hadn’t faded yet.
Despite my growing horror at the fact that I’d just cheated on my husband, I couldn’t help but feel something like gratitude toward him. He’d fulfilled me so deeply that I couldn’t find it in myself to hate him. I left in a rush, his cum oozing from my sore ass as I drove home.
By the time George returned home from work, I had showered twice and still didn’t feel clean. I was so ashamed at what had happened with Dr. Ward, at how hot it made me feel to think about what a dirty slut I was. About how much I was his dirty slut.
I made the best dinner I could, and I don’t think I was ever nicer to George than I was that night. I waited on him, I was affectionate, and I had every intention of being his whore in bed when I had the chance.
My sore ass was on my mind all night, though, a throbbing reminder of where Dr. Ward had planted his flag. I tried to concentrate on please George, but the arousal that lingered in me wasn’t for him, it was for the damned hypnotist.
It didn’t take any more seduction than it ever had to get George naked, but even though I wanted to enjoy it, sex just didn’t feel right. Far from giving him my sore ass, I had to fake an orgasm while riding him during normal sex to give him the green light to finish. It wasn’t hot, it felt wrong, like a chore.
He fell asleep hard afterwards, like he always did, and I went downstairs to hide my tears. Sobbing in my dark kitchen, I hated myself for how much I wanted something else. Something wrong. Something other than my husband. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I realized that all I wanted was Dr. Ward to bend me over his desk again.
The more I thought about it, the more turned on I became, until my hand slid into my panties and caressed my sex. I had only to imagine I was in Dr. Ward’s office again, presenting my rear to him like an animal in heat, and I was near the edge of release with startling speed.
My fingers moved faster as I remembered how his hands felt on my hips, pushing me down, positioning me where he wanted. I thought of the pressure, and then that sudden, glorious moment when he pushed his way inside, and I groaned aloud.
Tears still drying on my face, I had to stifle my cries of pleasure as I came there in the dark. I climaxed thinking about the vile hypnotist while my husband slept, unaware that his wife was a traitorous whore.
The next day, while George was at work, I found myself back at Dr. Ward’s office. As much as I wanted to never see the man again, I couldn’t stop myself.
Part of it was me rationalizing that he was the only one who could fix the problem; after all, he had created it. The other reason I was there was humiliating though. I couldn’t stop thinking about the therapist and his big cock. I couldn’t stop imaging him ramming my ass until my mind shut off and I came so hard that the universe exploded inside of me.
Oh god, what the fuck was wrong with me?
Somehow when I got there, I kept my clothing on and his cock out of my ass long enough to tell him how mad I was.
“You, you fucked me and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
He smiled. “I just gave you what you asked for. Don’t you enjoy anal sex now?”
The shame welled up inside me at how strongly my body reacted to being in the same room with him.
“I was supposed to enjoy anal with my husband, not you.”
“Well, you should have been more specific then, shouldn’t you?”
He laughed at me, but even then I wanted to throw myself on him. I’d beg him to fuck me.
“You bastard.”
“Relax, let me hypnotize you again and I can fix this. Your husband never has to know what a dirty little slut you are.”
When he said it, I swear to you my pussy went squishy in an instant. I was a dirty little slut, wasn’t I? I had to get out of there.
“Are you crazy? I’m not letting you do that again. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m going,” I said.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You know you can’t help being such a filthy little whore. You know you want my big, fat cock.”
I stopped at the door again, seized by deja vu and his vile words. My pussy throbbed with need.
“Your ass still looks good. It will look better on my dick though, won’t it?”
His voice got closer. My hand trembled on the door knob, my heart pounding in my chest. How could I be so turned on?
“Get over there and assume the position, Denise. Do it,” he said, and I twitched as his hands touched my hips.
There was no resisting my need. I let him guide me to the desk. Let him bend me over. He lifted my skirt up and slid my silky black panties down. I hadn’t even remembered picking from the sexy side of the drawer, and I was filled with shame again, at the realization that this was why I’d returned. Not to yell at him, not to have him fix what he had done, I was there for this.
My face lay flat on the cold desktop my breathing ragged as I waited for it. My whole world narrowed down to just his cock and my needy ass.
He again used my wetness to lubricate himself with a deep thrust into my pussy, and I almost came just from that. When he pressed himself against my rear, then surged forward, forcing himself inside, I did cum.
The rest of it was a blur, as I lost all ability to speak or think or move, I just lay there hanging on as he pounded my ass with savage intensity.
So. Many. Orgasms. Oh my god, I was his. His filthy slut. I was a dirty whore for him. I was his toy. It was all I could do to remember to breathe every now and again, everything else was submission and pleasure, pure and delicious.
After he finished, he told me that he would hypnotize me again. He was going to make sure this time that George got the anal he’d always wanted. I had orders to follow. I was to convince George to come with me the next day. I was to tell him that we were going to fix my inability to give him what he needed, fix it with hypnosis. He told me to go home and reveal it as my birthday gift to him.
“Don’t tell him you’ve been here before, or what we’ve done. Just tell him that if he comes with you, you’ll let me use hypnosis to give him what he wants.”
I felt even more ashamed when I was standing outside the white house again, this time with George holding my hand in encouragement.
When I pitched the idea of going with me to Dr. Ward’s office, I didn’t mention that my previous trips there had involved the doctor’s fat cock filling my ass. I told him what I was supposed to, what I had to, and he ate it up.
Dr. Ward was as charming as ever. He gave no sign that he knew me, and before I knew it, he was repeating the whole thing he’d done with me the first time.
“It’s simple really, only you can make the positive change you desire in your life. I’m just your guide, here to help you achieve your goals. Denise, are you willing to give me your trust, to let me help you enjoy anal sex?”
Help me enjoy it, it was all I could think about. Hearing him say it made me want it even more, but I managed to play my part.
“Yes.”
“George, the same goes for you. If we’re going to have results, you need to join Denise in putting in the work for this to happen. Both of you need to be in sync for everything to be just right. Will you trust me with helping you be able to have some incredibly fulfilling anal sex?”
When I realized he was going to hypnotize George too, I should have stopped it. I should have told George everything, but all I could think was that if I just went along with whatever Dr. Ward wanted, I would surely be rewarded—rewarded right up my behind.
My husband looked so excited then, he must have been imagining finally getting what he’d so long desired.
“Yes,” George said.
The hypnotist reminded us that we needed to trust him, that we needed to let him give us what we wanted. Then he told us both to lie back and close our eyes.
Ten minutes later, I was floating in the fluffy white emptiness of the relaxing white room in my head again.
It was disorienting to awaken to lost time again. More so still as I watched George going through the same confusion. The shame of knowing that it was my fault he’d been under the trance as well hit me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I thought. Then I looked at Dr. Ward and mentally added “up my ass, fuck me up my ass.”
I knew things weren’t right, but still I didn’t say anything. We got up to leave, and again I felt that feeling of repeating some pattern. Some past sequence that was heading someplace wrong, but wrong in a way that made me feel hot and needy too.
George and I made it almost to the door. That’s when Dr. Ward spoke behind us. “You know, George, it’s not just your wife that has a sweet backside. You’ve got a nice tight little ass too, don’t you?”
We both turned to look back at him. He was standing, and his erect cock was poking out of his open pants. I waited for George to go ballistic, but when I turned to look at him, he was just staring down at Dr. Ward’s thick penis.
“Look at what the sight of your tight little virgin ass is doing to me, George. I’m hard as a rock just thinking about how good it would feel to ram my fat cock inside it,” he said.
It was hard to concentrate on my shame at what I’d now dragged George into, because the sight of Dr. Ward’s erection was making me so hot. I stared at it alongside my dazed husband and it was all I could do to keep from begging Dr. Ward to stick it in my ass. How could I put myself and my husband into this position? I had to resist, I had to get George to snap out of Dr. Ward’s spell.
“No, don’t listen to him,” I finally found the strength to say, but George didn’t blink at my words.
“What’s that, Denise? If you have to talk, why don’t you say what you really want to say? Look at my big dick and see if there isn’t something you’d like to ask me.”
Staring at his cock the need to feel it inside me grew to the point that it felt like it would consume me. I felt myself shaking and then I took a step towards him, but he shook his head. “Say it,” he said.
“Fuck my ass. Please. Please fuck my ass,” I said.
Still George said nothing. Dr. Ward looked at me and gestured to his desk. “Show him how you like it, Denise.”
In moments I had my pants and panties down and I was on my elbows, bent over his desk. The only thing left on my mind was the overpowering desire to have him inside my ass. My pussy was sloppy wet, I was on fire for him.
“You see George, Denise loves it. You will too, I promise you. Now why don’t you join her there?”
I couldn’t believe it, but then it was happening. George was leaning over next to me with his pants and underwear down around his ankles! Dr. Ward’s hand roughly squeezed my rear cheeks, and his touch was electric. I wanted him inside me with every fiber of my being. I was far beyond ready, I was past needy even—I was desperate. I wiggled back in anticipation when his fingers probed my boiling slit, but then his hands left me.
“Beg for it, beg for my cock in your ass,” he demanded.
I started to obey, but George beat me to it. “Please fuck my ass,” George implored over my voice, and Dr. Ward snickered behind us.
George stiffened next to me and rocked slowly forward. He closed his eyes and a low groan came from him, of pleasure or pain I couldn’t tell. Dr. Ward grunted and George was pushed a bit further still, and then George exhaled heavily and gave what was definitely now a moan.
“You’re almost as tight as your little wife; this must be a little painful for you. Do you want me to stop?”
With his eyes still clenched, George rushed to reply, “No, please don’t stop. Fuck my ass. Fuck my tight little ass.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. My husband kept his eyes shut tight and groaned as Dr. Ward fucked him deeper still. I felt ashamed, not just for bringing George to this position, but for the fact that I felt jealous of George at that moment. All I could think about was how I wished it was my ass getting fucked.
George started to rock forward and back next to me, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. Throaty moans soon joined his low grunts and groans of pain. His head was slamming forward next to me with each resounding meaty slap behind him, his whole body getting thrown by the force of Dr. Ward’s fucking.
“I’m fucking you like a woman and you love it. You’ll let me do this whenever I want now, and you know it. Whose ass is this now?”
“Yours. It’s your ass now. Oh God, don’t stop, please.”
My jealousy grew as he continued to hammer away at George’s ass, but even as turned on as I was, it was still a shock to hear my husband’s submissive admissions.
Something changed in the timber of George’s moans. He was gasping and grunting and making sounds of pleasure all at once. His body still rocked forward under the force of the ass-fucking, but there was another pattern of motion too.
I had to lift myself upright for a moment to see it, but his right hand was beneath him, clenched around his own hard cock. He moaned faster still, and then he tensed and gave a twisted little groan that I recognized immediately—it was the sound he made when he came.
Dr. Ward laughed behind George and the pace of the slapping rhythm of their fucking slowed and then stopped. I stared at my husband in shock as he shuddered on the desk next to me, clearly getting off from having his ass fucked. I felt Dr. Ward’s hand on my hip and I looked back to see him smiling down at me as he moved his still-straining erection between my cheeks.
“It’s your turn now, but I need to hear you beg for it first,” he said with a smirk.
“Please fuck my ass. Fuck my ass, fuck it hard.” The words poured out of me without thought. I wanted him so badly that my pussy was a boiling cauldron of slippery need.
I would never have spoken that way before, but I’d never felt that way before either. I wanted him to not just fuck my ass, I wanted him to do it hard and fast. I wanted him to take my ass like a rutting animal, and I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything.
He pushed inside me and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming as he buried himself in me to the hilt and then pulled back and did it again. It hurt, but it also felt so good that I was on the verge of cumming by the time he slammed himself inside me the third time. Following George’s lead, I let my fingers find my clit, and I rubbed myself as I lay there getting fucked.
I couldn’t contain the noises that burst out of me when my orgasm hit, and somehow it just turned me on even more to hear him laughing down at me as he continued to slowly pound my ass while I came.
“That was quick, you really did want it. Dirty little slut. You didn’t come here to get fixed at all, did you? You came here for this, to feel my big dick up your ass. Admit it, tell your husband the truth. You love having my cock up your ass, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I groaned the word as his cock filled me again.
“Say it.”
“I love having your cock up my ass.”
“Not to me, tell him,” he demanded.
I turned to George and said it again. George just stared at me in a flushed post-orgasmic daze.
“Is there anything you love more than feeling my big cock plow your ass?”
“No.”
“What will you do for me? What will you do in return for my granting you the pleasure you’re feeling right now?” he said, just as another climax ripped through me, leaving me shuddering there helplessly, my ass still filled with his incredible manhood.
“Anything,” I half-moaned the word.
He was still hard, still fucking my ass but slower then. There was nothing else in the world, just that glorious cock stretching my ass, filling me, completing me.
“Anything huh? So you’ll be my slave if I want?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll come in here and be my cock-worshiping slave, you’ll pay me to fuck your ass and make my power over you stronger every time I do it?”
“Yes, oh God yes.”
Dr. Ward’s cock rammed into me with a savage tooth-jarring rhythm that grew more frenetic with every passing moment. I felt myself rushing towards climax again at the submissive feeling of being taken, of being used by him like a dirty slut.
Shuddering, I came, and a moment later he buried himself deep with one last great thrust before his cock erupted. I could feel him twitching and spurting inside me as I lay there in orgasmic bliss. When he withdrew from me, I longed for him already.
We all got dressed, and neither George nor I met each other’s eyes.
“That will be two hundred for the joint session,” Dr. Ward said.
Even though he’d just ass-fucked us both to orgasm, you couldn’t tell from his demeanor. It was if nothing unusual had happened at all. I knew it had though. My throbbing ass, still oozing his juices, was proof it had. I wrote out the check while he waited, and handed it to him.
George was starting to look green around the gills. The euphoria seemed to be wearing off, replaced by something like shock, or maybe it was shame.
“Oh don’t be down. I know how much you enjoyed it. Really, you should thank me for fucking you and for fucking your wife in front of you.”
My husband looked different then, subdued and confused. He must have been in the grips of the same mix of shame and arousal I’d felt after my first time.
“Thank you.”
“So, will it be another joint session next Thursday at two then? Or would you prefer something sooner?”
“Sooner,” we both said it at the same time, and George and I looked at each other with embarrassment.
Dr. Ward looked down at his appointment book for a moment. “How about Tuesday at three instead? Or would you prefer to keep the Thursday as well?”
This time I met George’s eyes before I spoke. “We’ll take both.”
Dr. Ward smiled and scribbled in his book. “Excellent. With each session I’ll be able to take you both deeper. Also, from now on I don’t want you to having any sex. You can masturbate, but you’d better damn well be imagining me fucking you while you’re at it, understand?”
We agreed and shuffled stiffly out of his office in our soreness. George and I didn’t talk on the car ride home. Or even look at each other for that matter. We both just stared out the windshield, lost in our thoughts. I was thinking about how long it would be before Tuesday came, and from the looks of George he was probably thinking the same thing.