Therapy

This is a true story – or at least parts of it. I'll let you decide which parts.

*****

My gift card still had some money left over. It's a clever ploy to hook you in and get you to pay what the card won't cover. In this case, I didn't give a damn. My half marathon was coming up and I had felt so incredible after my first appointment with Ella, that I knew she could take care of me before the big event.

As eager as I was to explore this new and unique relationship, it was two weeks before I could find just the right time (and the money) for another massage. In the meantime, I looked Ella up on Facebook. I had already sent her a text message telling her how grateful I was for the special attention and to let her know when I was going to be there again. She said she already knew – she had been looking for my name.

Her Facebook page surprised me. Rather than the typical personal page, it was set up as a fan page. That seemed odd until I realized that she was actually a semi-successful actress. She had already been in some local films and was aspiring for more.

Maybe it explained the bubbly and optimistic personality. It certainly explained the pictures. There she was. My beautiful Ella in lingerie or almost nothing at all – body parts strategically hidden to skirt the censors. Now my dick and my mind had been blown. Not only had she accepted me as a friend, but I realized that I had just been serviced by a beautiful actress. What guy hasn't had that sort of fantasy? Especially a middle-aged creeper like me.

It was our second session. I had to wonder if the blow job was some sort of fluke. I had texted her a couple of times – mostly to convince myself that she was real. She was fond of returning heart and kisses emojis.

As always, I never went into a session with any expectation other than friendship. I would have been perfectly fine with an arrangement much like my former therapist. After all, as much as I was an addict, I really just wanted the emotional support. This session, I deliberately went out of my way to ask questions about her. I knew I had spent far too much time talking about myself in our first visit.

She was wearing a long dress; very fancy. It was totally inappropriate for a massage, but she looked stunning in it – like a movie star. "You look really nice", I stammered. Her dark eyes drew me in.

I learned more about her. She had four or five jobs. I had done that once upon a time. But I was too tired to keep that pace anymore. Maybe she just wanted money. That would be typical for a prostitute or stripper. My rational brain was actually a little worried. This had been my fantasy; a no-strings-attached affair with almost no chance of being caught – or arrested.

But my gut was actually saying that this was real – in a very surreal way. The massage was pretty much as expected. She did a great job on some trouble spots and I nearly fell asleep a couple of times. "I'm going easy on you ahead of the run", she told me. It was relaxing.

After an hour, I was starting to think that the first one was really a fluke – or maybe she just did that once in a while and didn't want me to get used to anything. No expectations. Just fantasies.

"We have about fifteen minute left", I heard her say in my drowsy state. "Stand up."

I had no idea what she was planning so I did as commanded. Ella was always and completely in charge.

Ella lifted her dress; revealing that she wasn't wearing any underwear. Then she bunched it up around her waist and climbed up on the table face up. "Kiss me."

I was standing naked in a massage room with a semi-nude goddess laying on the table. It was as if she wanted me to devour her – and I was more than happy to oblige.

"Are you really a sex addict?" I asked.

"Yes. Suck on my clit. Let me see how you do it." Ella spread her legs slightly.

I felt like a starving man looking at a feast. My brain was on fire. Ella's body was absolutely stunning. And there, above her beautifully shaved pussy was a tattoo. No, not identical to my old friend's, but in the same location. There was definitely something supernatural at work.

I had only seen black girls in porno movies. I hadn't been especially attracted to them. I liked the creamy white skin of my wife and the handful of other girlfriends I had had before. That was my fantasy. Ella was my new fantasy. Her hips were thin, belly flat, and the folds of her womanhood were just perfect. The lips were swollen and I could see a glistening wetness. "I'm always wet."

I started at her belly button and kissed my way down. As I reached her treasure, I got her delicate, salty scent. I couldn't help but notice she smelled like my wife – at least what I remembered. Maybe there was really some chemistry going on here. Those thoughts were just dim embers in the back of my mind. The little brain was really doing the thinking at this point. I found her little pearl and began licking it hungrily. Her legs parted further. I could see the curve of her ass as she lay there. I hadn't really considered it. But I realized that it was perfect too.

"You have amazing skin", I said. She breathed a heavy thanks as I sank back into the folds.

"Suck it. Like a straw." I was happy to oblige. I began suckling on her clit like I would have done on her tits which were covered by her dress. Her breathing quickened.

She really was wet. I wondered if she was a squirter, but didn't really care. My tongue would occasionally probe the depths of her pussy. I could taste the salty coating. My dick was rock solid as I licked and kissed and probed her depths.

"Most guys can't make me cum. Make me cum." I found that hard to believe. She seemed so close already and it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes. I continued to suckle her clit and added a little light pressure by tickling her opening. Her hips began to buck and with each lick, she would shudder and shudder again. "Oh my god" she whispered.

I became aware that we were still in a spa and there were still other people milling around outside the room. I didn't remember if she had locked the door. The danger of getting caught was real and palpable. My dick got harder. She shuddered again.

Finally, she seemed spent. I kissed her back up to her belly, then kissed her under her neck while I gently fingered her pussy. I knew she must be sensitive and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. After a few seconds she finally sat up, pulled her dress down, and said, "You were fantastic. I didn't think I could get off that way."

Maybe she had faked it. She sure did know how to stroke my ego. "I love it when a woman has an orgasm. It's my thing." That was true. So I hoped she really had enjoyed it.

I glanced at the clock and my time was up. I would be going away with a case of blue-balls, but this time I had still gotten something in return.

She straightened up and left the room so that I could get dressed. I found her once again at the reception desk where I signed up for a monthly massage and made an appointment a few weeks in advance. The owner seemed pleased and we talked again about how wonderful Ella was.

I went home with a smile on my face. There was another happy ending – just not mine.