This is a multi-part story told from different people's point of views. The anchor character is Angelique with the bulk of chapters told by her. I hope you enjoy this labor of love that's taken me almost two years to complete.
*****
Chapter One
Angelique – October 2005
I leaned my head back and released a deep growling moan letting my orgasm, like a tidal wave, carry me away. The woman between my legs had me basking in every sensation she was affording me. Men were glorious creatures and I loved the feeling of their long thick cocks stroking sensually in and out of me, but nothing ever satisfied me like having a woman's divine mouth on me.
The woman who was currently licking me into a heaven I'd never known before was Evelyn. We'd met just hours earlier at Dr. Westminster's office where I was working as an intern.
Ahhh, I know what you are thinking but before you jump to conclusions and stick me with labels that don't apply...let me state for the record, having sex with Evelyn so soon after meeting her was something I'd never done with anyone before. The truth is, I knew the moment I laid eyes on her she was the woman I'd been waiting for, for so very long. The attraction between us, from the moment she lit into the office, was instantaneous and overwhelmed both of us...
Dr. Stephen Westminster, MD, PhD, LCSW, Psychiatrist
.
Dr. Westminster seldom came to the office anymore and rarely saw patients. Instead, he directed his energies to teaching Psychology at UCSF, advising and mentoring graduate students and consulting with the Marin County District Attorney's Office. My job, the three days a week I was there, was to answer phone and email inquiries, transcribe his notes on the two remaining patients he still counseled, coordinate his schedule, and sometimes even interview witnesses for the prosecution, when he was involved in a court case. More importantly to all of those things, from the beginning of my internship I was tasked with cataloging and converting his closed patient files to digital media before having the paper files destroyed.
It was very boring and mundane work but something I was mandated to accomplish before I could put my school days behind me. I was a breath away from completing my PhD in Clinical Psychology. All my courses were completed, my labs performed and my thesis submitted. All that was left was to serve my last twelve days in Dr. Westminster's office and I would be done. My years of being a devoted student were coming to a close and I was more than ready to move to the next phase of my life.
I started my internship with Stephen on the heels of his decision to close his practice. I imagine that at one-time interns played an intricate role in the practice. I can't say that about my practicum. I spent the first six months relegated to transitioning his client base to new doctors. Don't get me wrong, interacting with the patients was fascinating work. Most were terrified of change and what might be lurking around the corner. It became my job to reassure them their new doctor was going to be there just as much as Dr. Westminster was and that everything was going to be okay. With the end in sight, there wasn't too much clinical work left for me but especially for Stephen who only came to the office once a week for a few hours.
Stephen's newly discovered apathy regarding treating patients mirrored my lack of ambition to be a clinical psychologist. I just never came right out and said it, but I knew that Stephen knew. I suspected he knew from the very beginning of my journey I was simply going through the motions to finish something I started.
My personal journey of revelation started the previous year during a semester working at a state mental hospital. The field of psychological counseling was a dying profession and was being replaced by little white, yellow, pink and blue pills all of varying sizes, strengths and effectiveness.
I discovered there was only the smallest percent of people who genuinely sought help. The clear majority who sat across from doctors were there for various reasons other than the right ones such as; their loved ones forced them to be there; the courts mandated it; or believe it or not, a high percent were there for just what the doctors gave them - the drugs. Why face the world sober when you can do it with a valid prescription from a reputable doctor? The rare patient, in Stephens case his two remaining patients, were there to get help for themselves. They were the one in a thousand Stephen wanted to help.
Stephen started out his career wanting to help everyone. It was only recently, when a patient attempted to sue him for refusing to refill a prescription of drugs he didn't feel the patient required, that he came to that proverbial crossroad in this life. Things in his life were floundering. I knew Stephen very well, not only were we professor/student and doctor/intern but we were friends...and yes, lovers too. He had the biggest heart of anyone I knew and I knew his arrival at his decision to close his practice didn't come easily.
The Stephen everyone saw, the outside persona, was a happily single man but on the inside, I knew he was a very lonely man and it wasn't the type of loneliness I, as his lover, could fill. We weren't a couple in the normal sense. He was my male lover, as I was his female lover. We didn't have an emotional, romantic attachment with each other. We were strictly friends with the added benefit of being fantastic lovers. The deepest emotional feeling between the two of us was unwavering respect.
I was taught early in my study of psychology the first person you need to analyze is yourself. In fact, the morning our professor told us this we entered the classroom and found mirrors sitting on each of desks. We spent the better part of the class staring into the mirrors asking ourselves the basic questions each psychologist asks their patents. I did a lot introspective soul searching during that semester and came to a startling conclusion. I wasn't a complicated person. I was one of those '
what you see is what you get
' types.
As time went on, and my classes became more clinical I devoted every evening before I went to sleep in the mirror delving deeper into my psyche. It came as no shock to me I had strong narcissistic tendencies. When I shared my discovery with Stephen he laughed and told me that he and my roommate Thomas had been pointing that out to me on a constant basis, both lovingly and critically, I just never took them seriously. The funny part was once I stopped denying I was narcissistic and accepted I was vain and yes, sometimes, egotistical, I was instantly happier and more grounded.
I had intelligence, that was a given, and it wasn't all just book smarts. I had a high IQ that put me into the top two percentile. I was also beautiful. Not only did people tell me but all I had to do was look my reflection. I had a killer body, breasts both men and women swooned over and wanted to suck on and play with for hours. My long, sexy legs went on for miles and led to the sweet, juiciest pussy everyone loved to love. I was quite adept at using my intelligence, a quantified sign I was indeed intelligent, my good looks and sexual nature to get what I wanted, but then, who wouldn't? I doubt there wasn't one person on this earth who hadn't used their G0d-given attributes, whatever they might be, to either get what they wanted or get them further in life. If they didn't then they were fools and most likely needed psychiatric counseling!
That's not to say I didn't have my issues, I wasn't perfect after all, because boy-oh-boy there were days I felt like I dragged them around with me like a two-ton sack of rocks.
Stephen zeroed in on my biggest obstacle in my life on day one of us knowing each other and in his own way quietly made me his prized pet-project. It didn't take a rocket scientist, or even an inexperienced psychoanalyst, to know I wasn't at a place in my life that I was capable of a committed emotional relationship. I suffered from typical parental abandonment; one from an early death and the other via lack of love or attention, and feared opening myself to anyone that they might leave me as well.
My parents divorced when I was young enough to know my father wasn't there anymore, but too young to understand why. I kept my emotions bottled up over the pain my mother and I went through when he left and the longing to have my father love me, buried deeply away from everyone.
In an attempt to garner attention from my father I thought if I could meet him on an intellectual level he would accept me, so I accelerated my education. I graduated high school at fourteen and started UCSF. By the time I was getting ready to turn eighteen, when most kids were putting their high school years behind them, I was debating my graduate school options. Naivety became my enemy, because even with intelligence my father's back was always towards me.
As odd as it was, even with my good looks I wasn't the stereotypical teenage social butterfly. In fact, I was pretty much the opposite. I lived at home and preferred my mother's company over people my age. My mother was my biggest champion, best friend and role model all rolled into one loving, accepting person.
I never considered what life would ever be like without my mother in it but that bubble burst soon enough. I was in my last year at UCSF, still innocent to the ways of the world, when she got sick. People said, '
at least she went quickly
', well that wasn't good enough for me. I always wanted one more day with her. I turned to my father, but mother's death did nothing to change our relationship, in fact, if anything the sadness he felt over her passing drove him further away from me. I felt alone and abandoned.
I closed off my emotions and replaced the lost maternal love and paternal rejection with what some might perceive as an obsession. I preferred to call it a sinfully good '
indulgence
'. Gone was that wonderful loss of innocence, in its place was my newly discovered predilection for sex. Food, alcohol, drugs held no interest, all I needed was a hard cock or a dripping wet pussy and I was happy!
