Therapist Sex Story Novels & Stories

I brush my thumb along her jaw gently while I look into her eyes. “Reminiscing.” I drawl hoarsely as I press myself against her more intimately. “That little flashback I had of us in Nice has got me feeling some type of way.” I moan, looking at her lips hungrily when she licks them. “Stop torturing me, baby.” Shayla’s eyes light up, and she bites her bottom lip, “You heard the therapist, sexual contact is forbidden. You’re breaking the rules, and it’s not even been five minutes.”

This man fucks me with hard, merciless strokes, working his way to the hilt in three thrusts; this man glares down at me, his expression harsh, top lip curled back to show teeth. "Is this what you wanted, Theresa?" The bench slams into the wall, over and over, and I work my thighs wider, whimpering with need. His thick length saws in and out of me, hitting places inside me that make spots of color dance before my eyes. And his question is desperate as he asks, "Is this what you wanted? Tell me." The doctor ducks his head, like he can't bear to hear my answer, and sucks a bruise on my throat instead. The bench rattles as he pounds me, body jerking with frenzied hunger.

He mutters, pushing away tendrils of hair that have been stuck to my face, his fingertips sending tingles down my spine. "Wait, I thought you said you haven't been with a woman before?" He shrugs, drawing lines on my stomach, causing it to do flips. "My therapist made me read erotic novels. She had a bunch in her office." My eyes widens at his statement. "I need to thank your therapist." I say and he grins, pulling me closer to him as he lays me on top of him. I position myself, straddling him. A small smile on my face, I lower my head. "Thank you,Devon." I whisper, kissing his temples.

“Adrian!” Soon he was done with me, while we both kept breathing loudly like our lives depended on it. Sex? It was both heavenly and pleasurable. And Adrian was the man who made me feel that to my core. I just fucked my patient. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked while I smiled. “Maybe because I just fucked my attractive patient.” We kissed, and this could be the end of the journey for the therapist and the patient’s story, but a new beginning for lovers who find their path.

“There is a kind of bond and chemistry sex brings. Both of you are disjointed presently. If you keep this up in marriage, she will definitely know. You cannot fake a bond or chemistry no matter how hard you try.” “So you are advising me to have sex with that man…” She looked disgusted. “I am advising you to be a full time wife to him. If sex is included, yes,” the therapist nodded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Naya ran her hand down her hair. “I have never had any sexual relations with a man since Brett. Brett is the only man that has ever touched me.” “If I were you, I won’t count that as sex since you were both drunk that night,” the therapist corrected her and she hissed. “If I were you

“I never really… I mean, I’ve tried, but it felt… weird. I stopped.” His smirk deepened, the piercing catching the light. “That explains a lot.” I gawked at him. “You’re supposed to be a therapist. Aren’t you meant to be… professional?” “I am being professional,” he said smoothly. “You came here because your ex called you boring. My job is to find out why you think that’s true. And right now, I see a woman who’s been too afraid to even touch herself. Tell me, Alessia - how can you expect to please anyone else when you don’t even know how to please yourself?”

“That’s the keyword. ‘Always’. But I’m trying to do something about it now, and my therapist says that I...” “Therapist? You started going to therapy?” “Yeah.” Sarah sat back on her heels with her hands on her thighs. “So that means that you’re not allowed to have sex, or...?” “Not exactly, but he told me to spend time with women and not focus on... You know, the sex part.” “Hm,” Sarah said and sat back to her previous position. “Yeah, so... What do you do besides working at the gym and... Well, having sex with me?”

Am I cured? I found myself in my sex therapist's clinic. "Vladimir, I don't think we have an appointment tod-" I didn't let her finish. I went in and slumped into her couch. Dr. Linda Chapin recommended her. She told me it would be better if Yvonne and I worked with different therapists. In which I easily agreed. She looked at me disapprovingly. "I had an erection," I told her. I would personally want a male therapist, but Dr. Linda insisted. She told me this one is one of the best in her field.

Her voice started breaking, and I wanted to scream; there it is, the pity card. The therapist nodded yet again, then took the file and started flipping through the pages. “It is said here that you two haven’t had sex in two years. So it's clear that the sex life is just as horrible.” Who would want to sleep with someone that might smother you right when you are about to cum? In such a defenseless state? Not me! “Okay. Mr. Griffin, you said you wanted a divorce.” “More than I want my next breath,” I answered truthfully, and a shocked gasp sounded from my side. I didn’t even dignify her by glaring at her. there was no point.

"You guys gonna fill me in?" "We, um…" I clear my throat and take the plunge. "We crossed that line." "Which line?" "I'll say it," Santos interrupts. "We had sex. There ya go, baby. You don't have to say it now." I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. I feel like the biggest wimp. I'm in therapy. This is our therapist, and this is something we've been working towards for two years. Logically, I know I have nothing to be embarrassed about, but my emotions are having a hard time remembering that.