Sex Therapy Sessions: Tell Me Everything!

I thought I was just having a simple meeting with my psychology professor.

Dr. Alexandra Fischer was hands down my favorite professor all semester long.  She taught my Human Sexuality class, and it was absolutely fascinating.  I’ve always been a sexual person, no surprise there.  But delving into all the various topics Human Sexuality covered was a secret turn-on of mine.  Of course, having an incredibly hot teacher helped too.  Not only was she a college professor, she also offered her own private sex therapy sessions for select clientele.  But I wasn’t here for that today, I just wanted to discuss my midterm essay.  Or so I thought.

I was sitting in the waiting room of her office.  Originally, we were supposed to meet on campus.  But she had emailed me earlier this morning and let me know she had to have an emergency session with a client after our meeting.  And I was happy to see what she was like outside of an academic setting.  She always seemed so perfect in class – her hair in a neat bun, form-fitting skirt, amazing stockings.  And a brilliant mind!  If she ever had me in for one of her sex therapy sessions, she’d definitely get it out of me that I had a little lesbian crush on her.  I even dressed like her today.  Who knows what got into me, but I had my hair pulled back into a chignon and sexy black thigh highs with a tight gray skirt.

I arrived on time and let myself into the waiting room.  Then I received another message from Dr. Fischer.  Apologetic, she told me she had run out for a quick errand and then got a flat tire.  She would be there as soon as she could, and I was welcome to wait in her office.  So I did.

I felt like a client coming in for one of her sex therapy sessions.

My hand slid along the leather couch and over the mahogany desk.  Her office was just as gorgeous as she was.  What kind of sex therapy sessions did she have here?  I sat down in her office chair, lifting my stockinged legs up, imagining what it would be like to be her.  I pictured a client sitting across from me, sharing all of their naughty confessions.  The idea of hearing someone’s dirty thoughts really turned me on.  But before I could slip a hand up my skirt, I heard the main door shut.  She had gotten here quicker than I thought, I’m glad I wasn’t masturbating.  But before I could get up and move to the couch, a man rushed into the office.

He was incredibly handsome, probably double my age, and extremely apologetic.  “Dr. Fischer, I’m so sorry, I had some trouble finding the office.  Thank you so much for agreeing to see me on such short notice, I really need your help.”

My mouth dropped opened.  For one, what a compliment for him to think I was Dr. Fischer.  Secondly, he must be a first-time client.  Otherwise, he’d know exactly what my hot professor looked like.  Before I could tell him about the mix-up, he dropped down onto the couch, his deep brown eyes meeting mine.

“Where should I begin?” he asked.  I wasn’t sure what to do.  Ethically, I should have told him I wasn’t her.  But what good was all my psychology knowledge doing if I couldn’t give him one of the sex therapy sessions he deserved.  I could role play a sex therapist for one afternoon, right?

I was only conflicted for a second.  Then I said, “Let’s start with the reason you’re here.”

He was eager to share.

And I was ready to give him one of the best sex therapy sessions ever.  I listened intently as he went on about his marriage, how his wife never had sex with him, how he was horny all the time.  Then he confessed how he’d been thinking about having a sex with a sorority girl who worked at his gym.  And he didn’t care if it was naughty public fucking, he just had to get laid.  He knew it was wrong to cheat on his wife, but if he could just get a taste of some coed pussy, he’d feel so much better.

“Can you help me, doc?” he asked, looking up at me, his brown eyes pleading.

I should know better.  But I just couldn’t help myself.  I walked around in front of the desk, hopping up on it and letting my legs part.  His eyes took in my body, working their way from my stockings up to the red satin panties he got a glimpse of between my legs.  He wanted a sexy college girl, and I was ready to give him one.

“My sex therapy sessions aren’t always conventional,” I started.  “But I believe some fantasies need to be fulfilled.  And once they are, you may not even need to come back.  Are you willing to try something a little less traditional?”

I could tell by the hard cock pressed against his pants that he was on board.  Before he could even answer, I straddled him on the couch, letting his hands grip my ass and lift my skirt up.

“I-I-I,” he stuttered, unsure of what to do.  But as the sex therapist in charge, I knew what would help him.

Ready to confess everything to me?  I’m always available for your sex therapy sessions.

Call Kayla 1-888-964-0397