Author's note: The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you find material of this type offensive, or are under the age of eighteen, please exit now.
Since I had only been working as a counselor and therapist for three years, I was determined to please my clients and build up my practice. After all, the clients were what paid the rent. Aside from that, I had always had a heart for helping others, and this seemed to be the most fitting profession for me. Both my undergraduate work at Penn and my Master's studies at NYU were preparing me for the profession. Now nearly thirty, I considered myself an up-and-comer, since friends told me I had the looks, body, and brain to be a real success.
My office isn't like those of the psychiatrists you might think of, with a leather couch for the patient to lie on while the therapist takes notes. It looks more like a comfortable living room, with an Oriental rug, desk, easy chairs, sofa, and a coffee table to make my clients feel at home.
Most of my clients had the sort of minor "hang ups" that seemed almost pitiful to someone who had never really faced adversity. But some were a real pleasure to work with.
I always looked forward to Nancy Connelly's visits to my office. She is close to forty, but looks ten years younger, and has kept herself in wonderful shape and has a warm, outgoing personality. Helen buzzed me to announce that she had arrived for her appointment. I told her to send her in, and that she could leave for the day since this was my last counseling appointment.
Her job as Vice President of a local advertising agency required her to look her best when meeting clients. She had been promoted to the job five years ago, and seemed to enjoy it. Whenever I asked about the men in her life, she was always evasive. As near as I could tell, she had been engaged when younger, and lost her fiancé in an accident. Work was her life, and marriage wasn't a priority, or even a glimmer of a thought, as far as I could tell.
As always, Nancy looked stunning with her short curly blonde hair, tan linen skirt and blue blazer with a white oxford cloth blouse. It bulged in all the right places. Everything about her was neat and tidy, and she would have been at home in the all the best places.
Nancy seemed a bit tense when she came in, so I asked, "Is there anything unusual bothering you this week?"
"Well, I have had this recurring fantasy that I just can't seem to get off my mind."
"OK," I replied, "sometimes it is helpful to act out a fantasy. When it isn't as it seemed to be in your imagination, sometimes it goes away."
"Acting it out might be hard, since it involves you."
"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Let's see how it works out. Why don't you set the scene and we can do a little play-acting. You know how role-playing works, we act out the fantasy."
She seemed a bit embarrassed, and said, "Well, it starts with you standing right behind me and helping me off with my blazer."
"No problem. Like this?"
