This is a story about a psychoanalyst, his assistant and his nurse treating patients who are sexually dysfunctional. The real issue is who are more dysfunctional the patients or those who treat them?
You choose.
*
Sammi's first day treating sexually dysfunctional patients, oh and getting fucked on the side.
"Hi, nice to meet you", he said in a pleasant, nicely modulated voice that had a posh tone to it, but not offensively so like, for instance, Prince Charles. He held his hand out.
"Oh hi, yes thanks, yes thank you, nice to meet you too," Sammi bumbled back, rather hurriedly and a little breathlessly. She was always a little shy when meeting people for the first time, particularly men, particularly attractive men, particularly older men and particularly doctors and consultants. And Mike Stevens was all of those. And on top of that his piercing blue eyes seemed to simply bore into hers as the soft, smooth skin of his hand shook hers.
Standing up, holding her fashionably large handbag, briefcase and introduction folder and putting down her cup of coffee and The Independent newspaper, Sammi was flustered and dropped the paper. It hit the table and knocked over the cup that Sammi bent down to try to catch.
"Oh God, I'm sorry," she stammered as the coffee drained across the glass table soaking into the other newspapers. Cal rushed over with paper towels. Mopping the coffee up he was rewarded with a great view down the front of the tight, white coat that was the hallmark of nurses from La Crème. It made his day.
"Fuck me, she's got smashing tits and a lovely white lace bra," he said to himself looking up at Mister Stevens and smiling for he saw that he too had seen exactly what Cal had. They smiled at each other and raised their eyebrow appreciatively.
"Don't worry Sammi," Cal said.
"Thanks a lot Cal, I really am sorry to put you to such bother."
"No problem, you can repay me later," he grinned running his gaze very obviously up and down the blonde nurse's body. "Any way you like actually."
Sammi couldn't help smiling at the kid's, as she thought of him for she rarely dated anyone under thirty, bottle, but didn't respond for Mister Stevens had moved round the table and was standing right next to her and Cal.
They both looked at her. She stared back from one to the other not knowing what to do or think. She bent down again to collect her stuff that she had dropped onto the chair when she spilt the coffee. She could feel the boy's and the man's eyes on her. The boy's down her top, the man's at her bottom. The boy's on her tits, the man's on her arse. The boy's seeing her new white M & S bra, the man seeing the outline of her ultra thin, newly bought, Lejaby thong.
Although it was probably only for seconds, it seemed an age that she was being inspected, almost roasted, she thought. It made her feel on edge. She couldn't understand why, but it also aroused her. It made her warm, well hot really, she knew she would be blushing; she always did when she was turned on. Lurid thoughts, for some reason were shooting through her mind at an incredibly fast pace.
Her coat was off.
She wasn't wearing a bra or a thong under it, just white hold-ups.
Mike was behind her, Cal in front. She was leaning back against the Doctor. Cal was playing with her tits as if adjusting the dials on a radio. She smiled, acknowledging his enthusiasm, but relishing his loveliness as she gazed at his dusky, naked body and huge, stiff cock that he had pressed into her hand.
She wiggled her bum and the older man pressed forward so that her back rubbed against his chest. That was nice. It was nicer though when his equally hard and probably just as long, but less thick cock nestled between the cheeks of her bum.
"I'm so glad you have turned up, we have a lot to get through today, our last nurse let us down badly, that's why we switched agencies, come in let's have a quick chat." The doctor said pulling Sammi back from her reveries.
As Cal tidied up the table and Sammi followed the doctor, she had a quick glance down at her chest. She felt tremendous relief when there were no lumps or signs of her nipples hardening. That was something that embarrassed her so often that she had given half-serious thought to getting advice as to why hers were seemingly so much more sensitive and reactive than other girls. Luckily, they were behaving themselves today she thought.
She followed him into a sumptuous office, if you could call it that for it was more like a suite. In front of a nearly floor to ceiling, large bay window sat a huge, glass topped desk with brushed aluminium legs behind which was black leather, high backed chair. In front of the desk were two less ostentatious, but nevertheless black leather, expensive and comfortable looking chairs.
Off to one side there were two black leather settees facing each other across a glass coffee table, and to the other side a screen that only partially hid a couch with a chair behind it. On the cursory glance she was able to give as she walked across the room, Sammi was surprised to count four PCs, scattered around the room. The walls were bedecked with modern paintings and there were some tasteful sculptures on tables and plinths. The overall style was modern minimalist. Everything was in browns, golds and charcoals and the look was expensive, leading edge and high tech, yet relaxing and comfortable. It had obviously been set up both for business meetings and as a consulting room; Sammi had never seen anywhere like it
"Take a seat Sammi," he said pointing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I'm sorry about Cal, he can such be such a loud mouthed prick at times," the eminent psychiatrist said not the slightest bit embarrassed by using such a word in front of a young woman he was meeting for the first time.
Mike chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk in front of Sammi, rather than taking the more formal seat behind it. Surveying the young blonde in front of him, he was impressed. She looked every bit as good as La Crème had promised. He was pleased he had changed agencies. Emma, the agency owner was clearly as professional as she was persuasive. Although he had met her several times in connection with a new business venture in which he was involved, he hadn't used her agency until now, but he had heard good things about it. They had, so they claimed and the references he had taken up on the phone, confirmed, a unique approach to nurse sourcing, as they termed it. An approach Emma had described, as she sat exactly where Sammi was, that was in keeping with today's sophisticated and assuring top of the range health care industry, one that dispensed with the badly dressed, poorly presented, traditional nurse. One that provided the brightest, the most sophisticated, the most attractive and, simply the best Consultants' Assistants in the country.
Mike remembered very clearly how Emma, leaning forward and reaching her hand out to shake his, when he confirmed that he would use La Crème for his vacancy, displayed her deep cleavage and a goodly proportion of her nicely, full breasts had breathed. "I promise you won't be disappointed in me Mike."
And so far he wasn't. Sammi was gorgeous, her qualifications and references were outstanding, she looked polished, although perhaps a little clumsy, she was clearly stylish, educated, erudite and keen to do well and she had one of the nicest arses he had seen for ages
The nurse's dress had a lot of style, although Mike was slightly concerned on, how could he describe it, how modernly revealing it was. It showed Sammi's curves off to perfection, and Mike could see that she was not wearing a lot underneath. Probably just the minimum, he thought, his mind wandering back to the outline of the tiny thong and the stocking tops he had seen when she had bent over in the reception area. He wondered if all the 'Consultants Assistants' looked like Sammi and dressed as she did, concluding that they must and that they had to be coached by La Crème to do that. He wondered how Emma did that and would loved to have been at one of the coaching sessions
Years of examining young women, well any aged women really, had given Mike the skill to read a woman's curves. He was pretty sure that Sammi was wearing expensive, ultra thin lingerie that was designed to "vanish" to give the appearance of the wearer being naked under their outer garments. As his gaze swept discretely, but not so much that the younger woman didn't notice it, over her body, he concluded that the lingerie had achieved its objective.
Perched on the desk, one foot on the ground, the other off the floor, his legs open, Mike looked at Sammi. In his mind the coat had gone and indeed she was naked under it for he could see her pert, 33b, he guessed boobs, her flat tummy and the merest whisps of tawny pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. He felt that slight itchiness in his balls that was the forerunner and the clear indication of an impending erection.
