Intimate Confessions

The rain lashed against the windowpanes of Camila's car as she drove through the city streets, the windshield wipers struggling to keep pace with the torrent.

The wipers squeaking against the barrage of tapping rain against the windshield.

"Ughh, it just had to rain today," she muttered to herself as she maneuvered around a bus, the spray from its tires momentarily blinding her as the wake of the bus sprayed all over her car. She sighed, her breath fogging up the windshield despite the defroster's best efforts. Her hands clutched the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white against the black leather.

Eventually making her way around the slowing bus, Camila saw the familiar turn towards the plaza sign she saw on Google Maps when she looked up the address.

"Almost there," she reassured herself as she pulled into the lot, feeling a slight relief at the empty parking lot.

She finally pulled into a parking spot outside a nondescript brick building, the rain still pummeling against her windshield as if to dissuade her from leaving the safety of her car. She hesitated, "Just another minute," her thoughts echoed as the defroster continued blowing warm air that radiated to her hair, the rain outside creating a soothing rhythm against the roof of her car.

Taking a deep breath, Camila turned off the engine, the sudden lack of noise emphasizing the drops outside. She grabbed her purse and umbrella, then made a dash for the door, the rain immediately soaking her hair and clothes despite her best efforts with the umbrella. She was already feeling flustered as she stepped into the lobby, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor as she made her way to the receptionist.

"Hi, I'm Camila. I have 3:00 session," she said to the figure behind the desk, her voice a little breathless from the dash through the rain as she looked down at her rain dappled clothing.

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, looked up from her desk and nodded. "Ok let me just confirm your information, then we can check you in," she said, her fingers typing lightly on the keyboard.

"Last name and birthday?" she added,

"Nichols, 10/27/94" Camila replied, her eyes darting around the lobby looking for something to dry herself with as she waited for the receptionist to clear her.

"Thank you, Camila. You can have a seat, Nolan will be with you shortly", she said, her voice warm and soothing.

Camila thanked her with a polite, close-lipped smile and walked towards the seating area, the plush carpet beneath her feet silencing her previously wet and squeaky footsteps.  "Ick" she murmured to herself as she surveyed her reflection in the large mirror hanging by the door close to her seating. Her cream-colored blouse was now slightly transparent, showcasing the outline of her black lace bra. She shook her head, "Typical, first impression and all," she sighed, pulling out a few tissues from the box beside the magazines. She dabbed at her blouse, trying to soak up the water spots that were starting to show through the thin fabric. Her pencil skirt was also damp, but she decided to leave it be for now, hoping it would dry naturally.

"Well hopefully he takes his time," she thought, peeking at her own reflection as she continued pat drying her top and leaving a small pile of tissues on the table beside her.

Just then, a young man emerged from a door down the hallway, his hair slightly disheveled and his eyes scanning the room. He caught sight of Camila and flashed her a friendly wave, but his view lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, taking in her damp hair and slightly disheveled appearance. Taking note of her bra being slightly visible but ensuring he maintained contact above her nose to ensure she didn't notice him catching the detail.

"Camila?" he asked, walking towards her with an outstretched hand.

"Yes, that's me," Camila replied, standing up and extending her hand. His grip was firm, but his palm was slightly clammy, betraying his nerves.

"I'm Nolan," he said, gesturing for her to follow him as he spoke.

"Nice to meet you doc," Camila replied, her voice laced with amusement as she took in his appearance. She surveyed his tight fitting, navy slacks and crisp, white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing a hint of his forearms. She couldn't help but notice the way the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders but also caught the amateurly knotted tie around his neck. Was he in a rush or is this his first day? Camila thought to herself.

"Call me Nolan, please," he corrected her, leading her down the hallway. "I'm still a couple years short of a doctorate."

Camila smirked, "Well, Nolan it is then," she said, her view darting mischievously as she notices his hesitation to maintain eye contact.

Nolan led her into a small, sterile room, dominated by a plush, leather couch and a leather armchair that looked like it had been freshly polished. The room was bathed in a soft, yellowish light from a floor lamp in a corner, casting long shadows along the wall beside it. The scent of burning candle filled the air, with a hint of cleaning fluid used to wipe the surfaces. A large window behind the couch offered a view of the rain-soaked city, the droplets clinging to the glass like tiny diamonds racing along the window.

"Have a seat," Nolan offered, gesturing to the couch as he took his place in the armchair.

"Mind the cleaning or chemical smell, I just moved into this office so I haven't had the time to give it a personal touch yet," he added, apologetically.

Camila sat down, feeling the soft leather envelop her hips and ample butt as she sank into the couch. The scent of the fresh leather mixed with the faint smell of the candle, creating an unusual, yet not unpleasant aroma. She leaned back, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she looked around the room, taking in the sparse decor.

"So you're new or in training? Not that I mind, but just curious," Camila said as she was taking in the room, noting in the lack of personal effects or photographs that would have given it a more homely feel. Instead, the walls were bare save for a framed diploma from the nearby university and two plants that still had the price tags attached on them.

Nolan wiggled side to side in his seat, adjusting his shirt, which piled as she sat in his chair across from her. "Mix of both, just graduated but and just started here but still fresh of the books," he said, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before flicking away.

"So, I'm your first client? Guinea pig, huh?" Camila teased, her ending with a slight chuckle as she crossed her legs.

Nolan cleared his throat and snuck out a chuckle himself. "Well, I've had supervised sessions before and many during my residency, but yes, you're my first... official client," he admitted, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair as he spoke.

Camila's lips curled into a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement at the meek and eager man across from her.

"Well, Nolan," she said, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness, "let's make your first time memorable, then." Her eyes growing dimples, amused at her own innuendo and at the reactions she could get from the therapist.

Nolan replied with an amused chuckle followed by a closed lip smile as she adjusted himself in his own chair. "Yes." He barely uttered as he fidgeted with his notebook, unsure of how to reply.

She could see the color rising in his cheeks, his discomfort palpable yet oddly endearing.

Nolan took a deep breath, flipping open his notebook and grabbing a pen. "Well, Camila, I think it's best if we start at the beginning. Can you tell me what brought you here today?" he asked, his pen poised over the page.

Camila leaned back against the couch, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she thought about how to begin. Her fingers traced the edge of the leather cushion, absentmindedly pulling at the seam.

"Honestly, I'm here because I'm not sure what's going on with me," she admitted, her voice soft yet frank. "I've been having some... unusual thoughts lately. Thoughts that I don't quite understand or know how to deal with and they just keep sticking you know?." Her initial grin now softening back to a flat lipped response as she spoke.

Nolan nodded and looked back up at her from his notebook, gently nodding again signaling Camila to continue.

"I mentioned some of it from my intake form, right?" she said, her voice a little hesitant. "You know, the whole sexual desires and fantasies thing?"

Nolan nodded, "Yes, I saw that however I would like to hear your thoughts in your own words. The intake is effective, but you only get so many lines to write on."

She paused, her lips twitching into a slight smirk. "I mean, I can barely go a day without thinking about it. It's like my mind is on a constant loop of dirty thoughts and intimate ideas." Camila chuckled, her hands now fidgeting with the seam of her damp skirt. "I'm not sure if it's normal or if I'm just going crazy, but I can't seem to stop myself from thinking about... sex."

She looked up at Nolan, her eyes searching for any sign of judgement in his expression.

He maintained a neutral face, nodding slowly, encouraging her to continue.

"It's not just about sex, though," she said, her voice lowering as she spread her legs slightly, a subtle hint of recollection in her eyes as she flicked her focus from Nolan's eyes to the ceiling above him. "I've been having these... yearning thoughts. These desires that I can't explain. I want to be... dominated. Controlled. Tied up. Spanked. Fuck, I even find myself wanting to be...choked in some cases!"

Nolan's pen froze mid-scratch, his eyes widening slightly as he processed her words. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his professional composure and keeping his eyes on his notes.

"Camila," he began, maintaining a steady tone "It's completely normal to have sexual thoughts and fantasies. They're a part of human sexuality and frankly quite common. It's the acting on them that requires consideration." He paused, stealing a glance at Camila, who was now looking at the ceiling to the left of him, her legs now slightly parted, revealing a tempting glimpse of her thighs.

He couldn't help but think to himself, "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," as his mind raced to process what she had just said, his mouth suddenly dry.

Camila looked back down and saw the hint of unease in Nolan's eyes: his one eye squinting as the other stayed unmoving while his lip similarly made no motion. His hand gripping his pen like a lifeline, the toe box of his shoe moving up and down as if his feet were trying to escape. "Oh my god is he flustered?" she thought to herself, "I wonder if I can get him to blush."

She leaned forward slightly as he fidgeted, trying to think of a response. She traced the seam of her skirt with her left hand and slowly spread her legs wider, this time deliberately moving her legs and her fingers at the same time to draw Nolan's attention. "You know, I've never really talked about this stuff with anyone before," she said, her voice dropping to whisper as she emphasized the word "anyone". "It's kind of embarrassing, really. But I guess I'm just not used to talking about these things. It's all pretty new to me." She continued whispering, noticing his view flicker from his notes to her face, and for brief seconds, between her legs. Carmilla felt her heart skip a beat seeing the effect she was having on him. Her mind wandering to other subtle, or not so subtle ways she could toy with him.

Meanwhile back in Nolan's mind, a slight tingle of panic crawled up his spine as he started feeling his own cock beginning to stir as her earlier words painted vivid pictures in his mind. He couldn't shake off the image of Camila, tied up, her body arching and struggling. His grip on his pen tightened, his knuckles turning a pale white as he fought to maintain his composure, taking out his feelings on the clip of the pen, feeling it bend as he thinks on his next response.

After a dry and quiet gulp, words finally escaped his lips "Have you had these kind of... feelings before?" he finally managed to ask, his eyes darting from her face to his notebook, and momentary blinks at her now slightly exposed thighs.

Camila let out a small laugh, a hint of self-deprecation in her voice. "Not really," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as well. "I mean, I've always been... vanilla. You know, missionary, lights off, nothing too crazy."

"I understand," Nolan said, nodding solemnly, though his mind was anything but. He could feel a bead of sweat trickling down the back of his neck, the room suddenly feeling warmer. "And when did these...new feelings start?" he tried to maintain eye contact, his eyes darting from her face to his notebook and back again, desperate to keep his mind from wandering but ensuring he spent at least 5-10 seconds wherever he looked to avoid looking like a cuckoo clock.

Camila's changed her focus and looked up at the ceiling. "Actually, there was this one time... with a coworker," she began, her voice hesitant but gaining confidence as she continued. "His name was Alan. We worked together at the library, and we were always flirting, always joking around." She paused, closing her eyes as a small, one-sided smile grew along her lips as her brain recalled.

"It was after a work party, actually. We had a bit too much to drink, and he offered to walk me home," Camila said, her cheeks flushing a soft pink as she recalled the night. Her eyes glazed over, lost in the memory, her legs subtly spreading wider while her hands started squeezing the arm rests, a detail Nolan saw and fixated on like a hawk, eliciting another tingle down his spine as she tried his best to hold his composure.

Nolan nodded, trying to keep his focus on her words as he shifted his eyes back to Camila's now wandering eyes, "We got to my place, and I invited him in for another drink. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were... you know," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as her blush deepened. "I think I might have initiated it, actually. I remember telling him to... to take control. And he did."

Nolan nods, his mind realizing that he had lost count of how long he was staring at Camila's eyes, her cheeks now surrounded by rows of dimples as her lips curled into a grin as she spoke.

"He... th-threw me onto the couch and literally ripped my clothes off. I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life," Camila breathes, her eyes meeting Nolan's, a challenge in their depths. "I felt so...good, and yeah, it was pretty good. Ever since then, I can't get that feeling out of my head," Camila finished, her voice catching slightly at the end, her eyes now at half-mast and seemingly glazed, yet her smile echoed satisfaction and desire.

Nolan nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral despite feeling his cock go rigid from her account, and finding himself slowing his breathing to keep his excitement from bulging between his legs. "That's quite a story, Camila," he said, his voice steady and quiet but his mind racing with images of Camila's curvy form, nude and sprawled on a couch, her face contorting in beautiful agony. He shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself, crossing his legs knee to knee, his heart pounding in his chest.

Camila noticed his swift leg movement and imagined what he was trying to hide and almost felt a moan escape her lips. "It's like a game of cat and mouse," she thought to herself, her mind racing with ideas of how to push him further. She took a deep breath, her gaze lingering on his tense body staring at how motionless his chest and core was and yet how much his fingers and toes kept fidgeting, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "I wonder if he'll crack first," she mused, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

He cleared his throat, and reached for his stainless-steel water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and tipped it to his lips, only to find it empty. He mimicked a swallow anyway, a feeble attempt to compose himself and maintain his professional demeanor.

Feeling herself get back to Earth after toying with ideas of how to tease Nolan, she met his gaze once more, eager to see his reaction but also curious about his response. She enjoyed the memory but intentionally added more detail hoping to see her eager therapist become a flustered mess.

She glared at Nolan, his pupils dilated and a trace of sweat above his brow. Watching Nolan as he drank, she noticed his throat make a swallowing motion and yet, thought about how the bottle sounded empty when he picked it up.

Camila thought to herself, "What a dork." She smiled to herself, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she continued to observe Nolan.

"Sorry, I kind of got lost in that memory," she said, her fingers tracing the edge of her skirt once more, her voice soft and trailing.

"No, not at all," Nolan replied, his voice a little too high-pitched as he tried to maintain a casual tone. He quickly realized he had been caught in his fake drinking act, and his cheeks turned a shade darker.

Coughing slightly in an attempt to make his voice less high pitched, Nolan replies, "What you're saying is completely normal, at least in terms of a lingering feeling or memory, doubly so if the memory is something..so.. positive." He knew he had to steer the conversation back to safer grounds and away from the explicit details. "I appreciate you clarifying when it started," he offered, regaining his composure and counting to 10 seconds between his eyes darting between her and his notebook as he spoke. "From that point on, how much did it affect your daily life? and have you ever acted on these desires since then?"

Nolan asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he scribbled notes, his handwriting now slightly shaky.

Camila's eyes suddenly lost their luster as she looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "Alan moved soon after that. I never saw him again." She looked up at Nolan, her eyes searching to see his emotion at the sporadic ending. Seeing none, she continued, her voice steadier. "But I... I couldn't stop thinking about it. About him. I found myself obsessing over that night, over the way he touched me, the way he made me feel." Camila's cheeks flushed a deep red, her eyelids fluttering as she recalled her private moments.

"No matter if I was at work, at home, or even with friends, I couldn't... stop myself from fantasizing about it. I'd catch myself getting turned on at the most inappropriate times." She paused, her voice dropping to a near whisper, "I'd touch myself, right there in the library, behind my desk but sometimes I'd lock myself in the bathroom and touch myself, thinking about Alan fucking me..."

Nolan's breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly at her explicit words. He could feel his cock straining against his slacks, twitching and feeling a pulse of warmth spread throughout his crotch as Camila's confession painted vivid images in his mind.

His mind's eye instantly conjuring images, Carmilla standing against a tiled wall, her blouse torn open, her skirt hiked up, her fingers buried deep inside her as she fingered herself. He could almost hear the wet sounds of her cunt, the way her breath would hitch as she got closer to the edge.

"Oh man," he thought, his eyes flicking back to hers, the lust and desire in them unmistakable. He speared a hand through his hair, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Camila, I... I think we need to focus on the feelings that drove you to act on these urges, but I appreciate your.....clarification of what you did in response"

Camila maintained eye contact with him, her eyes squinting slightly. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she noticed the faint flush on his neck and the way he kept shifting in his seat. She knew she was getting to him, and she liked it.