addressed it. Graham leans back on two hands, exposing the fine, dark hairs leading from his naval, under his shorts. I’d like to touch that hair to see if it feels as soft as it looks, or if it’s coarse like Dylan’s. I skip the hair this time, too intimate, and reach for his waistband, tugging down gently. The tip of his penis peeks out, red and swollen. I exhale proudly and look up. He appears calm and collected, other than the knot protruding near the back of his jaw.
I decide to take it a step further and reveal something I’ve wanted to say for a while. “When I go home after our sessions , I’ve been using my…well, I call it my rocket. Does this happen to you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been taking care of it.”
I nod and look back at his cock. With one fin ger, I touch the tip. It’s warm and smooth. Alive. I graze my finger over the thin ridge separating the head and the shaft. He shudders in response. “I gave my first blow job when I was in high school. I almost puked. I’m not one of those girls who can eat or drink just anything. I have a pretty sensitive gag reflex.”
“Did you have the anxiety then?”
“No, because I’d never tried to have sex. Back then, I thought my nerves were normal. They were normal. Jittery school-girl nerves.” I stop there. I don’t want to talk about the anxiety because, well, it makes me anxious.
I touch him again , this time smearing the oozing, clear fluid from the tip around in a circle. Through gritted teeth he says, “You seem pretty calm now.”
“You aren’t going to try anything. I know that. I trust you.”
That elicits a smile, a genuine one. I decide the elephant is out of the room now and cover his dick with his shorts. That’s it. I just needed to see it. Touch it and move on.
Scooting closer, I lean forward and fling my a rms around him, pressing my chest into his. His strong arms wrap around my body and I lean my head into his shoulder. God, he feels good. Well, his arms do. His dick is trying to stab its way into my stomach.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away.
I shake my head and get off the bench. “No problem. I’m gonna change and go. Then you can take care of that.”
He leans back, for once not hiding his raging boner and I feel like we’ ve made progress. With his hair dipping into his eyes, he gives me a tight smile. I think we’ve come to some sort of even footing. It’s not all about me. Sex is never about one person.
I figure he’ll jerk off the minute I leave . That’s something that often makes me uncomfortable. In the past, my boyfriends jerked off because I was freaking out. They had to get release somehow.
Now? It feels different. We’re in the same boat. We’re live wires about to ignite. I don’t look for him when I leave the apartment. Instead, I commit that last image of him to my mind, the way his hands felt on my back and the weight of his arms around my shoulders. That’s what I’ll think about later that night when I’m alone with my fingers between my legs.
Chapter 20
(Graham)
I’ve barely cleaned myself up when Dr. Markson walks into the apartment through the door from the office. “I got your text,” she says. “My client was just leaving so I thought I’d catch you before you left for the day.”
“Something came up today and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“With Audrey?”
“Yes,” I sit on the couch. “It’s nothing bad, I mean, in some ways it’s good. She’s taken your suggestion of being more assertive to heart, but I’m also worried about my own behavior.”
She studies me for a minute and I feel oddly transparent. After a moment she says, “Explain to me what happened and we’ll sort it out from there.”
So I tell Dr. Markson everything that hap pened in my session with Audrey today, leaving out no necessary detail.
“You knew that at some point this would happen ; that she would pleasure you as well, correct?”
“Yes. I guess I thought I would be the
I decide to take it a step further and reveal something I’ve wanted to say for a while. “When I go home after our sessions , I’ve been using my…well, I call it my rocket. Does this happen to you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been taking care of it.”
I nod and look back at his cock. With one fin ger, I touch the tip. It’s warm and smooth. Alive. I graze my finger over the thin ridge separating the head and the shaft. He shudders in response. “I gave my first blow job when I was in high school. I almost puked. I’m not one of those girls who can eat or drink just anything. I have a pretty sensitive gag reflex.”
“Did you have the anxiety then?”
“No, because I’d never tried to have sex. Back then, I thought my nerves were normal. They were normal. Jittery school-girl nerves.” I stop there. I don’t want to talk about the anxiety because, well, it makes me anxious.
I touch him again , this time smearing the oozing, clear fluid from the tip around in a circle. Through gritted teeth he says, “You seem pretty calm now.”
“You aren’t going to try anything. I know that. I trust you.”
That elicits a smile, a genuine one. I decide the elephant is out of the room now and cover his dick with his shorts. That’s it. I just needed to see it. Touch it and move on.
Scooting closer, I lean forward and fling my a rms around him, pressing my chest into his. His strong arms wrap around my body and I lean my head into his shoulder. God, he feels good. Well, his arms do. His dick is trying to stab its way into my stomach.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away.
I shake my head and get off the bench. “No problem. I’m gonna change and go. Then you can take care of that.”
He leans back, for once not hiding his raging boner and I feel like we’ ve made progress. With his hair dipping into his eyes, he gives me a tight smile. I think we’ve come to some sort of even footing. It’s not all about me. Sex is never about one person.
I figure he’ll jerk off the minute I leave . That’s something that often makes me uncomfortable. In the past, my boyfriends jerked off because I was freaking out. They had to get release somehow.
Now? It feels different. We’re in the same boat. We’re live wires about to ignite. I don’t look for him when I leave the apartment. Instead, I commit that last image of him to my mind, the way his hands felt on my back and the weight of his arms around my shoulders. That’s what I’ll think about later that night when I’m alone with my fingers between my legs.
Chapter 20
(Graham)
I’ve barely cleaned myself up when Dr. Markson walks into the apartment through the door from the office. “I got your text,” she says. “My client was just leaving so I thought I’d catch you before you left for the day.”
“Something came up today and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“With Audrey?”
“Yes,” I sit on the couch. “It’s nothing bad, I mean, in some ways it’s good. She’s taken your suggestion of being more assertive to heart, but I’m also worried about my own behavior.”
She studies me for a minute and I feel oddly transparent. After a moment she says, “Explain to me what happened and we’ll sort it out from there.”
So I tell Dr. Markson everything that hap pened in my session with Audrey today, leaving out no necessary detail.
“You knew that at some point this would happen ; that she would pleasure you as well, correct?”
“Yes. I guess I thought I would be the
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