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Chapter Nine of The Therapist’s Journey is set at the first anniversary of the beach trip when Theresa and Miles became lovers, which was the subject matter of Chapter One of the story. Temporally, Chapter Nine is set within the period covered by Chapter Eight. It is an effort to adopt the suggestions of various readers that I more fully incorporate into the story (a) the sales girl who appeared in Chapter One and (b) Lauren Stone and her son Scott, who appeared in Chapter Four, and (c) relate some of my own experiences that underlie this story. Sally Barry, the eponymous therapist, is the narrator of the first and third part of this chapter. Lauren Stone is the narrator of the second part. As to your other suggestions, I appreciate and have read them all. If I can muster the imagination to incorporate them into the story, I will. As for those more interested in Becoming the Alpha Male, another installment is coming soon.
The summer after Theresa and Miles became lovers, the same friends offered the use of the beach home where it all began. Mike, Theresa’s husband, had to beg off. All his time was devoted to staving off the bankruptcy of the construction company to which he had dedicated his life. Theresa invited Brad, my son, and I to join them. She and I decided to go down a day early to get the place ready. Brad would pick up Miles at the airport and join us the following day, arriving a day before Miles’ friends and providing us twenty-four hours uninterrupted access to our boys’ bodies.
Then there was a hiccup. Lauren Stone, the mother of Miles’ friend Scott, was scheduled to speak at a conference located about a six hour drive from the town in which we all lived. The beach cottage being the mid-point of the drive, she asked Theresa if she could drop Scott off a day early. The only reason Theresa and I had to say no, that we planned to spend that day screwing our boys, seemed an excuse we should keep to ourselves. Theresa told her she was welcome and, if she wanted, she could spend the night and finish her drive the following day.
Lauren was, like I, a psychologist. She was respected for her meticulous approach to problems, an attitude reflected in her appearance. She was trim, attractive, and always perfectly dressed, every hair in place, make-up exact. During the past year she and I had become, if not quite friends, friendly. She had heard I was having success with some unconventional approaches to sexual issues and consulted with me when her by-the-book approach was not working. I, on the other hand, found it useful to discuss problems with her; she could see the flaws in my more outlandish ideas.
* * * *
Theresa and I were packing for the trip when she exclaimed, ” It’s her card. The one the sales girl gave me when Miles and I went shopping the day we became lovers.”
I remembered the story well. In preparation for their mock date, Theresa and Miles, pretending to be a couple, had gone clothes shopping. The sales girl, for whatever reason, had given Theresa her card and asked that she call. That night Miles made his mother his lover; the rest of the trip was devoted to each other. Theresa must have put the card in her luggage and forgotten it.
She transferred the card to her purse. “On the way down why don’t we stop at the shop. We can pick up a few racy items for the boys.”
* * * *
When we arrived at the shop the next day we were greeted by a woman whose age was hard to determine. Could be mid-thirties, could be mid-forties. Her thin body was composed, it seemed exclusively, of wiry lean muscles. Her face was narrow and her black hair parted in the middle, stopping before it reached her neck.
“Can I help you ladies?”
“Yes, we’re looking for some lingerie. I came here last year and really liked your collection.”
“I hope your visit was pleasant. As to the lingerie: practical or fun?”
“Fun, and the visit was wonderful. We were helped by a delightful young woman. In fact, while packing for this trip I found her card.” She fished it out of her purse and handed it to our host.
A smile split her face. “That’s my daughter, Mehgan. It’s nice to hear good things about her. She’s just finished her first year at the Culinary Institute of New Orleans and is on her way home. In fact I expect her to call any minute. My name is Nicole Collins, I own this shop.”
“My name is Theresa, this is my friend Sally.”
Nicole, who was warm and positive, fun and playful, showed us the collection. Then her phone rang and she excused herself. I was holding a teddy in front of Theresa, imagining ripping it off her, when she reappeared with her hand over the phone’s microphone.
“I was just telling my daughter the nice things you said about her. She thinks she remembers you. Do you mind saying hello?”
Theresa took the phone and related a few details of her visit. My friend would be a very bad poker player; she wears her emotions on her face. Her face lit up it when it became clear Mehgan remembered her. Then, as if out of nowhere, consternation flashed across her bahis firmaları pretty face and her voice cracked. She quickly regained her composure, but something had bothered her. When she finished she handed the phone back to Nicole.
Nicole wandered off to finish the call. When she returned she said, “Mehgan asked if you would like to come to dinner tonight. She’s an excellent cook.”
I was somewhat surprised when Theresa answered for both of us, “Sure, we’d love to.”
Nicole provided a time and place and Theresa and I headed for the car with shopping bags that promised some fun evenings ahead. Once safely outside I asked, “What happened in there?”
“She remembered me. She recalled the clothes I bought and then said ‘I hope you and your son had a wonderful evening.’ She knew Miles was my son.”
“We don’t need to go tonight.”
“No, I need to know how she knew.”
* * * *
We got to the beach house around 5:00. Instead of getting it ready, we talked; Theresa was upset. We then dressed for the evening, stopped for a bottle of wine, and arrived at Nicole’s on time. The house backed up on a bayou and wetlands. Nicole, dressed in a loose button-down silk top and leggings, opened the door before we could knock. We handed her the wine and exchanged kisses. She ushered us to the kitchen.
There we met Mehgan. The resemblance between the two women was striking. Mehgan’s face was a little wider, but they had the same broad winning smiles. Unlike her mother’s brown eyes, Mehgan’s were a light sparkling green. Both ladies were in great physical condition although Mehgan was not as slender and a tad more buxom than her Mom. Meghan, moreover, was no longer a blonde. Her hair was dark brown, running past her shoulders. She noticed Theresa’s eyes lingering on it.
“Oh this,” she said, holding her hair, “it was dyed. I let it return to it’s natural color. People do not take a blonde chef seriously.”
Nicole filled glasses with our wine and we talked while Mehgan put the finishing touches on the meal. We adjourned to a screened-in porch overlooking the bayou and were served a cassoulet and lemon steamed white asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. Nicole was correct, her daughter was an excellent cook. After we finished we were provided glasses of sherry. I followed Nicole into a large comfortable den which overlooked the thick marshes behind the house. Mehgan and Theresa lingered behind. It was then that Mehgan broached the subject that Theresa had intended to address.
“I need to apologize. I could hear that you were upset when I mentioned your son on the phone; Mom confirmed my impression. She told me how startled you were. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“How did you know he was my son?”
“At the boutique, you were enjoying shopping, trying on the clothes, playing dress-up. His eyes, well, they were aflame with desire for you; he was enjoying you. You were pretending to be a couple; he wasn’t; he desperately wanted it. It seemed odd. It took about three minutes on social media to confirm you were mother and son. I never forget the two of you, you guys were great together and I always hoped he got what he wanted. When Mom told me how you reacted, well, it seemed obvious he did. You wouldn’t have gotten that upset if it was just innocent shopping.”
Theresa thought about it a second, struck by the irony that it was her reaction that gave away her secret. “I guess I’m concerned that we’re broadcasting it to the world.”
The two of them had followed us into the den, but were still out of earshot.
“Does your friend know?” Mehgan asked.
Mehgan went to stand behind her mother, who was sitting on a couch. Theresa sat next to me. “I was just telling Theresa how I knew she was shopping with her son. You could say I have a sixth sense about these things.”
With that Mehgan leaned down and kissed her mother on the mouth. Their lips parted and it became a long deep French kiss. Mehgan’s hand snaked inside her mother’s blouse, kneading one of her small breasts before coming to rest on her flat stomach. They broke the kiss, their eyes brimming with desire. An oil flair lit up between my legs. Theresa’s fingers intertwined in mine, she was feeling it also.
Mehgan sat next to Nicole. “I don’t think you need to worry about the general population figuring it out. People just don’t think that way. My daughter and I have been lovers for two years. There is a tight social circle in this community and there are back channels to learn the gossip. I have my sources. No one suspects.”
Mehgan leaned against her mother’s body, who laid her arm across her daughter’s shoulder and chest. “My father is a big time developer. He’s on the road constantly and he’s a cheat. One night he and Mom went to a party, he got drunk and started flirting with the hostess. They got home and he passed out. Mom was pissed. She grabbed a glass of wine and went out to the pool to find me skinny-dipping. I had just had a fight with my boyfriend, smoked a joint, and decided what the hell, I’d go for a swim. kaçak iddaa I invited Mom in and one thing led to another. She wasn’t my first woman.”
Nicole finished the story. “When Mehgan and I became lovers I grasped the futility of my marriage. He wasn’t going to change and I was invested in a relationship that made me miserable when I didn’t need to be. He makes more than enough money for the two of us. No we live apart. When he needs me to appear at openings and social events, I go and I’m right charming. When he doesn’t, I make no fuss about his mistresses. I have the shop, this house, teach pilates, yoga, and aerobics five days a week, and have my own lovers. It’s a wonderful life, I only regret not discovering it sooner.”
As I listened to her images were swirling in my head: Miles and Theresa, Meghan’s first encounter with her mother, Nicole and her lovers. All of this was feeding the slow burn between my legs.
Trying to calm myself, I walked to the window, but found myself looking for the pool. I could hear Mehgan’s light steps approaching from behind. Her small hand came to rest on the middle of my back. She had been reading my mind. “It’s over there, to the right.” My eyes followed to the spot to which she was pointing. There it was. I pictured Nicole and Mehgan in the water, kissing, discovering a passion they hadn’t known existed. My knees grew weaker.
Mehgan’s hand, which was running up and down my spine, sent chills through my body.
In a reflection of the glass I saw Nicole walk over and sit next to Theresa. She took Theresa’s hands in her own. I looked back out the window, enjoying Mehgan’s touch while Theresa explained why we were in town: it was her son’s birthday, he and his friends were coming to celebrate, and she and I had arrived a day early to get the place ready.
“I’m afraid we’ve distracted you.”
“We’ll just have to get an early start tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you stay with us tonight? It’s better than doing laundry and making beds at midnight.”`
“You’re sure it wouldn’t be any trouble?” Theresa asked.
Nicole leaned forward and kissed Theresa softly on the lips. It was a kiss that promised a lot more. “We have a lot of room. It would be our pleasure.”
Theresa turned her head towards me. I looked back. Her eyes were aflame. She was as aroused as I. All I could think about was getting her alone someplace, anyplace, as soon as possible. I nodded my assent. Theresa accepted the invitation and followed Nicole to the guest bedroom. Mehgan showed me where the towels and other necessities were kept. Then she kissed me.
“I don’t know if you two are exclusive, but if you’re not Mom and I would love for you to join us. We have a very big bed.”
The idea of denying that Theresa and I were lovers flitted across my mind, but quickly flitted out. What was the point?
Mehgan led me to the guest suite and said goodnight. I turned to Theresa and kissed her hard. “Are you as turned on as I am?”
“Meghan invited us to join them.”
“Yeah, Nicole did also.”
“What do you think?” As the words came out of my mouth I saw Theresa’s eyes blaze with need and something else, was it the adventure? She wanted it, but she also wanted permission. While we had talked about it, she and I had been with no other women.
Before she could answer I said, “Let’s go.”
We walked across the den, ran up the stairs, and sprinted down the hall. The bedroom was magnificent. It was decorated with original artwork and the back of the room was a wall of windows overlooking the wetlands. Soft music played from invisible speakers. It was all centered around an immense round bed flush with pillows and silk sheets. On the end tables sat — it required a second to sink in — sex toys, including a thick black dildo. I pointed it out to Theresa.
“Just about Miles-sized,” she giggled.
We heard Nicole and Mehgan’s voices in a side room. We entered; it was a bathroom as imposing as the bedroom. They were in the shower; their forms visible through an opaque glass door.
“Knock, knock,” Theresa said.
Nicole answered. “I’m glad you could make it. Come on in, there’s room enough for all.”
Theresa and I stripped and stepped into a combination shower and steam room. Water dripped from Nicole and Mehgan’s exquisite bodies — their hours in the gym certainly paid off. I was standing before Mehgan; Theresa faced Nicole. After a kiss and hug the two woman shampooed our hair and soaped the front of our bodies, paying meticulous attention to the palms of our hands, our necks, our thighs, our breasts, and our pussies. Mehgan turned me around and scrubbed my back, while making sure the shower’s spray landed directly on my sex. After thoroughly cleaning my butt, she replaced her hands with her soft lips, kissing and licking my backside. When her tongue entered the cleft between my buns I opened my legs. Mehgan reached between my legs and inserted a finger into the wet slit of my labia, gently, exquisitely, moved upwards until she skimmed the underside kaçak bahis of my bulging pulsating clit. Ripples of pleasure poured from it and I bent over at the waist, trying to push my swollen bud into Mehgan’s finger.
That motion further separated my ass cheeks. Mehgan took full advantage, licking along the exposed cleavage. When she reached my asshole she increased the pressure. The sensation was unbelievable. I bent a little more, pushing my butt further out, yearning for Mehgan to continue. The tip of her tongue entered my asshole. My legs were turning to jelly; my insides were trembling. I grasped my breasts and squeezed them, running my fingers around my areolas. I started grunting and Mehgan planted a thumb in my pussy while her finger rubbed my clit. This, combined with the effect of the water from the shower buffeting my cunt, sent waves of euphoric pleasure through me. Her insistent tongue was steadily moving in and out of my sweet sensitive anus. I vigorously kneaded my breasts, pinching my nipples. Spasms of need were rising in my belly. It was wonderful. And then, suddenly, all these separate rivers of pleasure converged in one overwhelming joy. The pressure of my imminent orgasm sent my brain reeling and pelvis rocking. I released my breasts and planted my hands on the shower’s wall for support. Then, quivering in both need and delight, I flew over the edge.
“Oh, OH, Yeah, OOHH, AAAHH, YEESS, OH GOD, OH GOD, I’M COMING, OHH, NNOOOO…..”
As I shuddered and convulsed my thighs clenched, trapping Mehgan’s hand, which was covered by a combination of the water and the musky erotic liquid pouring from me. I sat a bench that ran along the side of the shower, shaking uncontrollably as the ripples of my orgasm continued. As the spasms passed I looked at Mehgan, my face shining in appreciation. Then, behind her, I noticed Theresa, her face lit up in a smile that matched my own, slumped against Nicole. I thought back, yes, there had been another voice wailing in orgasmic joy when I came. When I turned my attention to Nicole I saw she had her fingers buried in her own pussy, working herself, looking for release.
“A good guest always returns a host’s kindness,” I said. I got on the shower floor and slid between Nicole’s legs. Nicole’s tits were small with bright red areolas covering half their surface. I took a breast into my mouth, working the sides with my cheeks while lavishing love on the nipple with my tongue. Nicole gasped and stroked the side of my head. Her incoherent moans signaled she was in a high state of arousal; she was already close to an orgasm. I knew I should move on but found myself addicted to her breast, reluctantly spitting it out and turning to the other only when she pulled it from my mouth.
Finally, however, her voice desperate with need, she said, “My cunt…., my cunt…, do my cunt.”
I pushed Nicole’s knees further apart. Her pussy was open before me and my mouth suddenly dried in hunger for it. I licked the full length of her open slit. When Nicole’s clit jumped from its hood, my tongue was there to greet it. Nicole’s wiry muscular legs tensed and her feet rocked back on their heels, her toes curling. While I continued working on her clitoris I slid a finger inside her. When I found a rough stop I scratched. Nicole jumped. Yep, there’s the g-spot. Nicole took a firm grip on the back of my head, centering me on her clittie.
“Oh god yes, oh god you sweet thing. Do it!!… Harder!! YESSS!”
I pulled the skin above her clitoris taut, exposing the red swollen nub and sucked it into my mouth. After lashing it for several minutes, I captured it between my lips so that the head barely poked out. I worked the sides with my lips and ran my tongue over the trapped enlarged tip. Nicole’s strong hands were buried in my hair.
“Lick Me, YESSS, Make me cum, Ohhh Yeah, Yeah…It’s happening, don’t stop…don’t STOP, OH MY, OH MY, I’M CUMMING, I’M CUMMING, AARRGGHH”
Her juice gushed out as she humped my face. After several long minutes she stopped, her body’s tension visibly draining. I looked at her face, I was proud of the pleasure that shone there. Then her eyes, which had been drowsily half-closed, focused, looking behind me. What had attracted her attention? As I moved towards the bench I turned my head.
Mehgan was facing a showerhead, which was spraying water onto her cunt and clit as it had on mine. Theresa stood behind her. Protruding from Theresa’s pussy was six inches of a thick bright red plastic cock. Mehgan reached between her legs, placing the tool against her opening, rubbing the fat head against the entrance. Theresa was rolling Mehgan’s breasts in her hands while kissing her neck and ears. Mehgan was a lucky girl, I knew how good those soft full lips felt.
Mehgan fed the bulbous head of the dildo into her pussy and then wantonly humped back against it. Nicole and I watched the head of the toy disappear into her pussy. I knew that Theresa had no experience with dildos and at first her movements were slow and careful. But as Mehgan’s low moans became distinct over the sound of the shower, Theresa became more assertive, pushing the dildo into her new friend with increasing speed and power. The water flowing down Mehgan’s leg was joined with the copious flow of fluid from her cunt.
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