Dr. Phillips

I decided to set up therapy sessions with a private therapist before I moved to Charlotte so that I can better understand myself on a deeper level. I was dealing with some real psychological issues on my sexuality and why I had such a deep fire desire to fuck and cum all the time; and I really wanted help unveiling the issue. Plus, since I was still on my mom's insurance, I'd take advantage of some one on one,"figure this shit out" couch time.

I searched Google for a bunch of therapists within my network and I came across a super professional photo of a high yellow black man so I scheduled my appointment and eagerly arrived early.

"Hi, I'm here to meet with Dr. Phillips."

"Are you his 3:30 appointment?"

"Yes ma'am."

She gathered a bunch of forms for me to fill out and directed me to the lounge area. The questions on these forms were hilarious. I struggled to remain serious while circling in mostly "No's" as my answer. It felt like I was filling out an application to admit myself into a psych ward. After 25 minutes of ridiculous paper interrogation I returned the forms to the secretary.

“Just take a seat, he’ll be right out to get you.”

I grab a magazine off the table and flip through it attempting to look somewhat studious.

“Good afternoon, you must be Kay.” Dr. Phillips approached me in a semi-fitted black suit with a random yellowish tie his wife probably picked out. A bit of a goofball outfit, but he still looked mighty appetizing for some reason.

“That is I!” For some strange reason I say it in an awkward medieval tone.

As we head into his private office he directs me to have a seat on his cliche therapist couch. I set my Aldo satchel alongside the couch and made myself comfortable. He hands me a bottled water, grabs his notepad, and sits across from me. This is exactly how I pictured it would be, straight from a movie.

"How is your day going today?"

"Ugh, is that how this starts? Lets just dive in about my childhood or something?"

"If that's what you'd like. Tell me about your childhood?"

"Well, can you be a bit more specific? There is lots from my childhood." I did not say this in the sassy tone it may have seemed to be in. More of an innocent, clueless, first timer kind of way. I was actually nervous, and it showed.

"OK, well. How many siblings do you have?"

"I am the baby of 4 girls. I believe that’s the reason I seek love and affection; because as the baby of the family I needed the attention and special treatment. If I didn't get it, I'd go do something bad so that I could get some attention that way. Rather it be good or bad, I wanted it."

I rambled this off in what seemed to be less than 10 seconds.

"Seems like you have this all figured out." He says with a slight grin. Deep down inside I felt like..

"Well I watch a lot of Oprah, Dr. Phil, and Iyanla. They help me situate my life. I should also throw in that my father did not become part of my life until the late years of age 14 or so. So I grew up with a hard working, single mom and 3 older sisters who picked on me like an old scab."

“In what way were you picked on by them?”

“Oh the basics, teasing, throwing things at me, hitting me, making fun of how I looked, etcetera.”

“Can you try and be a bit more specific Kay.” I could tell he was reversing my words back upon myself. I didn't care because hearing the way he said my name in a deep, yet soft tone sent an unexpected chill towards my vagina. I didn’t wear panties under my knee length, cotton, black dress; so I had to be careful where my mind wandered off to. I nonchalantly crossed my legs and proceeded to answer his question.

“So, I was more chocolate than my sisters, a lot more tall, and while growing up I was visually more thin; because all my weight stretched up with my height. In addition to that my right titty was noticeably larger than my left titty, and I have this now beautiful gap, I wore braces on my legs to correct as much bowlegged-ness as possible, my hair was super nappy, and shorter than my sisters, and to top it off I had big feet! Now, to make me feel even worse about my “then” flaws they would call me names like; big titty-little titty, baldy, fake Tyra, a man, giant, and many other names. It tore me down, I started to really believe I was unattractive. Until, I started to get a lot of attention from men. It helped reassure my beauty and kept me from feeling like shit. So, when my sisters would pick fun at me; I began to let it roll off my shoulder.”

“Are you close with your sisters now? How’s your relationship with your mom?”

“I love my sisters now, we’re like best friends. We grew to love one another for who we are, and I of course grew into my big feet, and my titties match much more now.”

I noticed him glance at my semi-full D-cup breast. I purposely wore my lace, black, push up bra to see if I’d get a look from him. I energetically slid up on the couch causing my breast to bounce while he still has my breast in his peripheral. His tongue sneaks out his mouth to brush against his upper lip. As I pause observing his body language, I realize I have yet to answer his question completely.

“My mother and I are super close too, I can tell her almost everything. She’s past the point where she judges me, or tries to tell me what to do; which is great. Because I can now talk to her openly, more as a friend.”

“ Do you feel as though having a mother in the role of a friend and not so much a mom has had any impact on your adult life? It seems to me you have great people in your life but you're acting in a way that tells me otherwise.”

“How do you know how I’m acting?” I quickly get into defense mode.

“In the paperwork you filled out earlier, there is a category that ask 'Why are you here?' Do you remember what you wrote there?” His voice is so tender, smooth, and continuous; can’t really tell when he’s coming to an end. Listening to him is difficult because I don’t hear words, merely just sound and it's turning me on.

“Oh yes, yes I do remember what I wrote Dr. Phillips. Sorry for getting a bit snappy.” I say with a cute chortle. I catch a soft smile from him in return. "Oh, and my relationship with my mom wasn't always friendly, once I was older we got closer."

“I want to touch on this comment you left, you write that you have been having emotionless, yet passionate sex 4-5 times a week, and masturbating at least 6 times a day?” He said it as if it was a bad thing. I enjoy this life, that’s why I chose it. Now don’t get jaw dropped yet, it’s not always different men. Sometimes I scoop out of the same dip more than once, for months even. But after a while I normally drain him dry and need a new boo.

“When I see a man, the immediate image in my mind is him bending me over, pulling my hair, and fucking me, while smacking my right ass cheek, yes specifically. Now, if that image in my head caused fluidity to trickle down my lips; I then make pursuing him my main goal. Now, if that image caused me to laugh, or made me feel weird, I move on. And let me tell you Dr., men are so easy. I put on my innocent smile, seem to be uninterested initially, with a tad bit of sass; and they eat me right up!”

“The emotion part of things, let's focus on that for a while.”

“Well, people always say things along the lines of not being able to have sex with someone right away because they need that emotional connection in order to enjoy sex. When I engage with a guy I am sexually attracted to, he is the love of my life, in that moment. I feel like, I’ve known that person for ages and our bodies need to reunite as if he’d been gone in Iraq for years. So I do not have emotionless sex with men. My emotion just so happens to leave once he leaves; the rush, thrill, excitement is no longer there for me."

I can build a connection with someone in 24 hours and it be just as strong as a connection I've built with someone for 2 weeks, it's all based on the energy I have with that individual. Everyone is different.

"Let me put it in perspective for you Dr., the moment I cum; the hormones secreted by my adrenal gland such as adrenaline, epinephrine, and dopamine; instead of it flowing through my blood to my heart or brain, it comes out of my vagina the moment I squirt or release an orgasm. Now that might just be the bio major in me speaking, but that is when I move on to my next soulmate.” We both began to laugh at the fact that I called them my soulmates.

“Kay, you do have an interesting take on the world of casual dating. Some of your thoughts seem to have the structure of masculinity. Not that you think or behave like a man; but the nature of a male possess certain characteristics that women often do not have. I must say you have that. You speak so serious and educated on this; as if you’d studied it.”

I can see him loosen up a bit, becoming more comfortable as if this is now just a conversation and not a therapy session. As soon as I was about to continue our parley, someone knocks on the door. Dr. Phillips gets up and walks to answer it, he cracks the door slightly and I hear his secretary let him know it’s 5 o’clock and she’s going to be leaving soon. Before he returns to his seat, he removes his black blazer and hangs it on his four legged coat rack.

“Sorry about that, seems as if we went over your hour by 30 minutes. Don’t worry you won’t be billed for that, it was an oversight on my part.” Dr. Phillips explains to me, seeming earnestly sorry.

“Oh, don’t sweat it Dr., it’s my fault I talk entirely too much sometimes. Something about you makes me awfully comfortable.”

I swing around from leaning horizontally on the couch to sitting up straight ahead. Purposely letting my dress come scantily closer toward my thigh. I ease my thighs apart, creating a faint image of my freshly Brazilian pussy; pretending to act as if I didn’t do it purposely. I continue to have casual conversation. Before I can open my mouth, he interrupts.

“Kay, you definitely seem to have a good head on your shoulders, we just need to figure out how to help you see what you aren’t already seeing, you understand? I feel like you have a great life but you're working so hard to make it bad.”

“Yes, my head is good.”

I pause that thought, as it came out a lot worse than how it sounded in my head. I can see his freckled high cheek bones rise up. I quickly change the subject disregarding the second half of his comment.

“Can we continue where we left off or do we have to end this session?” I bring out my puppy eyes and pout my lips a bit to show that I’m enjoying his company and will be distraught if we end it.

“I’m afraid so Kay. I’ve made note as to where we left off at. I have to get home to my wife and kids for dinner tonight.”

“Oh tell me about your wife? How long have you been married?” I try to dig to get an idea of his age. He sits back down and continues.

“Well, really quick, we met in undergrad, and have been married for 19 years.” He announces proudly as if he knows my intentions. I then quickly do some math in my head. I’m assuming he’s anywhere between 37 and 42. When I look at Dr. Phillips, immediately I wasn’t attracted to his face, but his body and position made up for it. His complexion was like watered down iced coffee with lots of creamer. His nose was larger than what goes unnoticed, rounded edges, and mostly flat; squashed to his face. Now, what started to stand out about his appearance, making me want him more and more was a few things. His creamed coffee complexion had Hershey chocolate freckles all along the middle of his face; shadowing under his eyes, and adding beauty along the flat top of his nose. His eyes were dark with long top lashes and no bottom ones. The scantiness gave him this innocent, mysterious gaze. Normally, I’m not a fan of clean shaven faces; I love a beard, scruffiness, 5 o’clock shadows, etc. His smooth look worked for him, it complemented his high cheek bones.

“19 years strong, huh? So, I’m guessing you're almost 40?"

“I’ll be 40 in May as a matter of fact.” He gets up out of his seat initiating me to get out of mine so he can leave. But I’m not going; at least not until I see how far I can get him to go. I get up, grab my water bottle, and head in his direction.

“Where would you like me to throw this?”

“Here, I’ll take it.” As he reaches for the bottle, I caress his hand with the soft of my fingertips. He immediately pulls away, walking back to throw the bottle in the little trash can under his desk. As he walked away I couldn't help but notice his strong butt. He had a deep impression on both sides of his cheeks, and it was strongly lifted; I could feel my wetness creeping down my leg. I couldn’t tell what his abs were doing because his dress shirt wasn’t as fitted as it should be. I’m not letting that fuck up my imagination though.

“Can you look at your calendar and see what time I can come back for session number two?”

“Yes, definitely. Since Emma left for the day I have to walk around to her desk to look at the planner. Come out here with me.” We head out of his private office into the main room, and he locks the door behind us. As he’s bent over looking through the planner, I walk towards him quietly like he’s my prey. I run my hands up his back, while releasing an orgasmic noise.

“Ms. Jones, I’m not sure what impression I’ve given you, but this is inappropriate behavior.” He hops up in complete awe of what I’ve just done.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Your body was tempting me, my mind wandered into another world. Please forgive me, it’ll never happen again. You’re just a very handsome man and I’m use to getting what I want, and I'm here because I have an issues, and I need your help! I truly apologize.”

My eyes began to water as I’m embarrassed, yet not ashamed of my behavior. It was simply just my 'I'm sorry act' I wanted him to believe I was hurt by what just happened.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not upset. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. How about I put you down for tomorrow morning at 10am?”

“That works.” I continue to look down and away. As we head towards the door to leave I began to feel like I’m leaving something; and it’s not his dick. “Oh, Dr., I forgot my bag in the other room!”

“Ok, no problem. That’s a simple fix.” We both circumstantially attempted to walk back through the door at the same time. Causing my pelvis to meekly press against the front of his body. Or maybe I purposely pressed my body forward so that he can feel my fat pussy against his assembled dick; I’ve been watching it swell ever since I brushed the lower of his back.

"You're not going to stop are you?"

I quickly apologize, I can tell he knew I did that on purpose. He's definitely getting frustrated. So I step back allowing him to walk through the door. He shoots me an unsure smirk and leads the way back to the office. He unlocks the office and waits outside of the door as I go in to grab my purse. I approach the entryway where he stands and I abruptly stop. He looks at me like a kid who knows he’s in trouble.

“Touch me. Now.” I command as I grab his hand and guide it to my pussy.

“I can’t.” he delicately rejects, at the same time not trying to pull away.

“You can, and you will Dr." I shove his hand higher up my dress.

"Mmmm.... There you go.” He pilots his index, and middle finger up my watercourse. I move in closer, grazing my wet tongue alongside his face, heading towards his ear. I lick the outside surface of his ear and lightly blow on it; making his body cold with tiny goose bumps. His fingers become soaked in my juices, as his finger speed increases. His thrust becomes deeper, I began to release more juices causing it to splat all over his long sleeve cuffed shirt. He releases a very sexy male moan, full of desire and hunger.

“We have to stop.”

He says as he rolls up his sleeve. He had a coming to Jesus moment it looks like, realizing what he's doing is wrong. But I'm awful, so I continue.

“Why are rolling up your sleeve if you're gonna stop Dr.?” I grab his hands and place them right back where they belong. I rub my hands on his soft baby face and gape into his puzzling eyes.

“Why do you have to be this wet?” He sounded displeased to me for a moment. I’m sure he just wished I wasn’t so wet; because the temptation he’s feeling would be easier to fight.

“I want you to taste me.” I lift my dress over my head as I walk into the main area. I slide the collection of magazines off the waiting area’s low table and lay my body across it. It looks sturdy enough for my thickness.

“Come to me Dr., I need you to check things out down there.” I say jokingly with my legs spread all the way open.

“We should really leave, this has gone too far.”

“You say those words as you're walking toward me Dr., you can’t really mean it. Get over here and clean up this mess you’ve made.”

He rushes over with a “fuck it” attitude. I giggle in excitement as he scurries over. He transitioned from Dr. to zaddy real fast. He kneels down on the carpet in front of me and plants his face in my pussy and begins to lick the wrong part of my canvas. I grab his head in hopes to guide him to my clit; it feels like he’s mopping my vulva. He finally gets in his groove and finds my clit, where he rapidly ignites it until he feels it swell up from excitement. I’m squirming on the table.

He stops licking me, and begins to eagerly remove his dress pants. Out pops this curved two-toned penis about the size of a Twix bar, just one of the sticks. He tries to hop on top of me to insert that inside me.

“Oh, I don’t think this table will hold the weight of us both.” As I initiate a stop to his actions, like I’m Rose Dawson on the headboard not allowing Jack to join me on the headboard that can clearly hold us both.

I quickly stand up moving to the couch, I purposely kneel facing the wall. He has the perfect penis size for anal sex, because I'm not wasting vaginal sex on that, no sir. It was super small, not quite adequate for my plump, exquisite pussy. I swipe my hands across the glossy nectar from my pussy and rub it around my tight hole, allowing a smooth entry for his Twix bar. I lean my body on the hard built-in couch cushion and bring my arms behind me to spread my cheeks apart. I give him a little shake show.

I hear him murmur a noise, similar to one made when about to eat a delectable dish. I relax my muscles and await his entry. I began to feel his warm breath line the surface of my wet, ready hole. I gasp for air, unready for his tongue to pierce me again, but this time from behind. I move my ass closer to his face as the sensation is surprisingly awakening.

“You're a naughty little girl Kay.” I can hear him lick his lips as he comes up for air. He dives back in and continues to tongue fuck my ass. Shit felt so damn good.

“That's why I'm here Dr., because I'm naughty.”

“I want to get inside you now, do you have condoms?” He worryingly ask.

I creepily slide a Magnum condom out of my bra, because I knew what my intentions were coming here. He looks at me and shakes his head.

“Here ya go!” I toss it to him.

“Your sexy ass” He places the condom on his penis, and it was so much room left, I slightly chuckled.

He pushes my face to face back to the wall.

“Oh Dr. I like this aggressive side of you!.” I make sure my anus is still wet and slippery for him still.

“Spread it more,” I’ve finally got him completely loose, as his demands are becoming more frequent and rather sexy. I place both hands back there and separate my cheeks for him. He rubs the tip of his penis on the outside of my hole increasing his size and adding juices to the condom. My semi-virgin anus is taking his entry more difficult than I expected.

“Relax baby girl.” He pushes my back deeper into the couch giving me a more rounded arch. I relax my body and as soon as I exhale Mr. Twix had entered the galaxy completely.

“FUCK!” He uncontrollably yells out. My moans become more prominent as he pumps harder and harder. I underestimated his penis. He knew how to angle that curved small penis to hit all the right spots. He unsnapped my bra and helped me remove it while still plowing away at my ass. He cups my titties and leans in deeper; expressing he’s about to cum.

“Not yet! Please, I’m almost there.”

“I can’t hold it! Ahhhhhhh!!!!”

“Noooo!!” I beg for him not to stop as it was starting to feel really good. It's too late, he lets out a weird noise, and his entire body weight planted on my ass and arched back. He manages to gather himself for a few more strokes while he was cumming, but those were pointless.

“Goodness Kay!” He slides out his limp penis and I could feel his cum sliding down my crack towards my pussy.

He stands up and plummets to the carpet. I reached behind me to feel why his cum didn't end up in the condom; but of course it was too big, so I had to dig in my ass to pull out the condom. I throw it at him while he lays on the floor.

“Felt like you needed that doc.” He gives a sly smile.

“I’ll have to change the time to 3:30pm for tomorrow again, so we can do this again. Right?”

“See, that’s the spirit!” He admires my body as I stand to get clothed.

“You’re a beautiful girl Kay, I’ll help you figure out a way to change your ways. we'll be able to maintain a professional relationship so that you can continue sessions of course.” I guess he now sees my problem, first hand.

“Help me figure it out by eating my pussy on top of Us Weekly?” we both laugh.

“From the looks of it Dr. I don’t think I want to change. But, I will be back tomorrow at 3:30pm for our foreplay therapy talk. Once you're little secretary leaves, you can fuck me on that nice comfy couch in there.”

“I’ll be better prepared for next time, I wasn’t ready to annihilate a client's ass today.”

He gets off the floor and begins to straighten up waiting area table. I give him a wink and thank you and I walk right out the door, I think to myself... I got what I came here for, there won’t be a next time Dr.Craig Phillips.

"I need therapy." I say to myself after closing his office doors. I walk to my car in the parking garage, and grab my vibrator out my purse to cum and finish his failed mission.



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