She sat in the waiting room quietly. Her back straight and her legs crossed primly, looking like the lady everyone thought she was. She looked elegant. Her light brown hair was pulled back tightly in a small bun making her deep blue eyes the showcase of her beautiful face. Her red silk blouse was unbuttoned enough just to show the hint of cleavage, but not enough to be considered a slut by the other women who watched her jealously. It fit almost tightly showing her perfect curves and ended at the waist of her almost-black blue skirt. She had drawn the attention of every man in the room who were trying desperately not to look her way but couldn't contain themselves.
"Kendall," a woman's voice called from the door that leads into the patient area.
Without responding, she grabbed her clutch purse and slowly walked to the door, swinging her hips to give the watching men the show they wanted. She silently followed the woman until she was led to the office suite of her new psychologist.
"Go ahead in. He's ready for you," the lady said smiling. Kendall returned the smile.
With one last look at herself in the mirror that hung in the hall, she checked her deep red lipstick, then opened and walked through the door. Catching sight of him, his head was down so all she saw was his broad shoulders and his head of hair. Dark brown, sprinkled with grey. He was writing notes in a folder and had yet to look up at her. She frowned inwardly at his inattention to her entrance but didn't show it on her face.
She came to a stop in front of his desk and said, "Well?"
Without looking up he pointed to a chair and said, "Have a seat, I'll be with you as soon as I finish this up. Won't be but a moment."
She took her seat in a soft and very comfortable leather chair. This time she chose to cross her legs at her ankles, careful not to scrape her red pumps together, knowing that from his view, he'd be able to see a little up her skirt, but not completely. Her clutch on the side of her lap, she placed her arms confidently on the armrests and began to inventory his office. Family picture with beautiful wife and child on the desk, family vacation pictures on various bookshelves, the token Picasso prints on the wall. And, yes, the common cliché of all psychologists, the couch. A long, dark brown leather chaise lounge rested in the corner behind her. Her imagination flared.
"Okay, um....Kendall. Mind if I call you Kendall? I try and keep things on an informal level. So, looking at your file, this is the first time you've been in counseling. Is that correct?" She nodded in agreement.
"Well, then, let's talk. Why are you here?" The question hung out in the air between them. Her pussy ignited, the heat rising quickly between her legs causing her to shift ever so slightly. He watched her, seeking to see a hidden meaning within her demeanor and reactions. His eyes matched hers in radiant color but were framed with laugh lines. A prominent nose and a strong chin gave him a chiseled look. Not gorgeous, but handsome enough, she knew that his lips would be on hers shortly.
"I'm a whore," Kendall responded matter-of-factly. He began scribbling for a second and then asked her to continue. "What else is there to say? I'm a whore."
He stopped writing. Looking up, his eyes paused on her exposed thighs just briefly before he brought them up to look in hers. He could see raw hunger in them; he didn't look away.
"I see," he said, pausing for effect. "So, then I assume that you have an expansive sexual appetite?" he ended it as a question waiting for her to answer.
"Yes, I love to be fucked if that's what you're trying to say. And when I'm not being fucked, I'm thinking about being fucked. Or I'm thinking about sucking cock, or having my pussy eaten. Sometimes I have to fuck myself in a public bathroom before I try to rape a man who may or may not have looked at me." She waited for his response, still holding his gaze, challenging him with her eyes. She could feel the wetness of her pussy and had a hard time not putting her hands between her legs. She was thinking of mounting his mouth right there.
"And what do you think brings on this obsession, Kendall?" he said as he leaned back in his chair. She could see a bulge in his pants; he was already getting excited.
"Cock. I can't get enough of it. It's my drug of choice. I always want a long, hard cock filling me. I want to suck on it, ride it, feel it pounding my pussy. I'm addicted to cock." Just saying the word
cock
over and over again had her ready to suck on his, to feel its tip in the back of her throat as she fondled his sac in her hands. She spread her legs apart slightly, hoping he could just barely see that she wasn't wearing any panties.
He mumbled something unintelligible as he scribbled a little more on his notepad. She looked at the bulge in his crotch again and noticed it had grown. She smiled as her pussy simmered in its own juices. His reaction to her words was now evident and the thought of climbing on his shaft was wreaking havoc in her mind.
"Kendall, it sounds to me like you're a woman in her sexual prime. You're...let's see...thirty-six years old, you're obviously very attractive and I'm sure that men notice you wherever you go. Nothing abnormal about any of that. Plenty of women love sex with the same ardor. I'm not sure that you have a problem we need to discuss."
She smiled her devious smile and her eyes lit as she said, "Oh, Dr. Klein, I'm not here to discuss any problems."
His eyebrows rose. The blue of his eyes sparkling in challenge. "Then, Kendall," he paused,"what are you here for?"
