The Shrin #01 - Suzanne

I heard the doorbell, and I knew who it was. I'd made the appointment a week ago, and wondered how I'd respond when the time came. And now the time was here.

I'm Suzanne, an empty-nester in my forties, and I had to share my story. It all started when I saw an advertisement for a clinical way to relieve a woman's sexual anxiety. Given that my husband's idea of sex was to lube me up and screw without foreplay, finishing in minutes and leaving me horny and frustrated, I was interested.

Based on the doctor's background as a psychologist, he said he knew that many women were not satisfied with their sex lives at home, leading to frustration, like mine. They needed some help, and like the doctors of old knew, a little sexual stimulation leading to an orgasm usually worked. The therapy wasn't sex in the usual sense, but it could give me great relief. I was interested and called. He told me how it worked, and it sounded good, so I made the appointment for an afternoon when hubby would be at work. The week dragged by, but now he was here.

I opened the door and let him in. He was older than me, maybe in his fifties, and looked fit in a polo shirt and slacks. After brief pleasantries, he suggested we have the therapy in my bedroom. I thought I knew what to expect, up to a point anyway, and led him to my room. He asked me to undress and lie on the bed, so I slipped my sandals off, unbuttoned my blouse and took it off, followed by my jeans. Standing in my underwear, I paused. The moment of truth. Could I get naked in front of a strange man in my bedroom?

He sensed my hesitation, and re-assured me that it was normal, and that I had nothing to be afraid of or to be ashamed about. This was a form of clinical therapy with the sole purpose of satisfying me and removing my anxiety, and under no circumstance would I ever see a penis. Satisfied with his assurance, I unhooked my bra and took it off, releasing my breasts. It felt strangely good; a sense of relief. Then I took off my panties and lay on my stomach on the bed. I guess lying on my stomach offered some shelter for my shyness, hiding my breasts and my most private area. He asked me to roll over. I suspected this was coming, and thinking to myself I've come this far so why stop now, after a short pause I rolled onto my back.

I felt extremely exposed, my breasts and genitalia bared to this man in my room. He moved toward me, and asked me to relax and maybe close my eyes to better enjoy the feelings to come, so I did. He moved my arms alongside my body, and placed his hands on my shoulders, then moved gently down to my breasts, softly circling them and using his thumb to touch my nipples. I felt him rotate his thumbs around them as they hardened, arousing them, and beginning to arouse me as well.

After a minute of exciting my nipples, he moved his hands along my sides between my arms and ribs, down my body to my hips, caressing my sides as he went. He then placed his hands under me just below my rear and slid his hands under my legs down to my ankles. He gently lifted my legs, and moved each leg about a foot or so to the side, exposing me even more than before. The feeling of being so open to his view was a little scary, but also quite exciting. Then he slowly moved his hands up the inside of my legs and thighs, tracing his fingernails lightly against my skin and giving me a tickling, arousing feeling as he moved toward my most private area. What would he do next?

Soon I felt his fingers touch alongside my pussy, touching near the top and grazing my clitoris, then slowly he trailed a finger down the center to my vagina. His finger probed my opening which was already wet with anticipation, then traced back to the top, caressing my clitoris again. He repeated this motion, tracing down, probing me, picking up my wetness, and trailing back up to caress my clit. Over and over, probing deeper into me each time. My need for release was becoming more immediate, more urgent with each cycle. My reaction grew stronger with each trip up and down my pussy, until I could hardly bear it anymore. It was exhilarating, so sexual, so human. I tensed each time, lips opening as I gasped a little, legs moving and hips lifting off the bed.

He was now spending all of his attention at my clitoris, swirling me quickly and then slower, driving me crazy with desire. My pulse raced and my breathing became faster. I felt my climax building beyond my control as I squirmed under the intense, wonderful sensations. His fingers on me were all I could feel as he continued playing me, unstopping, and with the pressure for release unbearable, I could not restrain myself any longer. I exploded with an orgasm, my body trembling and pelvis bucking. He kept swirling my clitoris with his magic fingers, my desire unremitting. I tried to muffle a scream but could not as I tensed again, unable to stop a second orgasm, and I let loose and came once more.

Relenting in his attention to my pussy, he moved his hands away, while my body relaxed some and I started to calm down from my wonderful orgasms. He asked if I was okay, and did I enjoy it. Wow, did I ever!

He said I could get dressed and he'd let himself out, and to call him if I wanted another therapy session. He said next time I could request some other things I might like to try, maybe using a dildo or vibrator, or acting out a fantasy of mine. Whatever I wanted to increase my enjoyment of his therapy.

As I dressed while he showed himself out, I was still coming down from my sensual high. But I had some ideas of other things I'd like, and I couldn't wait for my next appointment!