Introduction
The room is dark and hazy. I'm hanging, my wrists tied to a chain of some sort above me. Someone is fucking me. My vision is coming into focus. I see a black man grinning at me. My legs are wrapped around his waist; he's holding me up by my ass and is making me cum.
I don't remember anything from the last hour. I have no idea how I got here. All I know is my pussy is numb, dripping with juices.
The orgasm washes over me and the black man leaves. Another takes his place. He grabs my legs, pulls them around his waist and has his turn. I don't understand what's going on, but I know I don't want it to end.
It doesn't. It goes on for hours. I don't know what time it is; if it's morning or night. Black man after black man take me as I hang here. Every one of them brings me to powerful orgasms. My body feels like jelly.
Then I see someone I recognize. I know his name. The memories temporarily become clearer. I remember flashing, color lights, loud music, people, drinks and him - Fat Rob.
He stands in front of me, pulls me up like the others did and slides his fat cock in me. I cry out, moaning, looking to the ceiling. All I see is a single bright light above me. His cock feels so good, so thick and big.
"Your husband is going to know we stretched out that pussy of yours, Miss Brandi," Fat Rob tells me, pumping his hips upward.
"What?" I ask. I look to my left hand above me, I see my wedding ring. I could've sworn Leanna, my daughter told me to take it off. More memories return.
She did tell me to remove it. She said I needed this night, she said I deserve it.
Another orgasm courses through me. Fat Rob doesn't stop. He keeps going, keeps bouncing me. I love this feeling, feeling helpless, hanging there, my wrists tied. I can hear the chain rattling as I go up and down on Fat Rob's cock.
"I bet he can't please you like this," Fat Rob says, still taking me.
I shake my head. Did Leanna know this would happen? Did she know I'd be here with this man?
More memories return. I see my daughter, tall, red hair smiling at me, leading me somewhere. To a building. I see her smiling face after she whispers in my ear to relax and have fun. We were at a club, that's what led me here – a stupid night club.
Images of her laughing, talking, dancing with men, pointing in my direction, waving me over. My husband, Doug, I see his face next. Was Leanna trying to get me to cheat on Doug tonight?
Fat Rob slaps my ass, grits his teeth, and cums inside me. It feels so good. His huge load of warm semen fills me up. He steps away smiles, laughing, "That's a good pussy, Miss Brandi. How old did you say you were?"
I can't remember. I can't even remember my age. "F-forty," I struggle to talk. "Something."
Fat Rob nods and unchains me. My arms don't hurt, neither do my wrists. My body is mush in his arms. He carries me to a bed. I don't see Leanna anywhere.
Fat Rob kisses my left hand, "That's a nice diamond your husband got you. How long you two been married?"
I can't answer, I can barely talk. "Six years," I'm able to get out, answering his question about my marriage to Leanna's stepfather, Doug.
"Mmmm," he guides my hand to his weakened cock. I instinctively grab it, squeeze it, my wedding ring seems to shine brightly against his dark brown shaft.
The next thing I know, the room dims, darker and darker before going pitch black. My jumbled memories return as I try to piece this night together.
-1-
A couple months ago, November, I was waiting for someone. I was sitting in my office waiting for him to arrive. I'm a counselor, some may call me a shrink, but I'm not a psychiatrist. I can't prescribe medication; I don't have a doctorate. Therapist is an acceptable term for my profession I suppose.
He was a new patient. He was running late that day.
I remember fiddling with my wedding ring, thinking of Doug, thinking of his smile. Doug, Leanna and I moved to Atlanta a year prior to be closer to Doug's family. Truthfully, I hated the move, but agreed to it. Work is certainly more active, compared to Charleston. I rarely have any downtime like I did there.
I sighed and thought about cancelling, but I figured I'd give this guy a few more minutes to arrive.
I stood, straightened out my business suit, and looked out the window. I watched the rain fall, covering the parking lot, the cars in the distance were locked in their usual stop-go traffic.
There was a knock at the door, without thinking I said "come in" still watching the rain. I remember Doug and I had sex outside last year in the rain once. It was summer time though.
"Hello?" the voice spoke up behind me, shaking me from my trance.
I turned around and saw him. My mouth nearly dropped open. I was looking at the most attractive man I had ever seen.
"Um, hi, hello, come in," I stammered. I cleared my throat, approached him, extending my hand. I introduced myself as Brandi.
He shook it softly, smiling back at me. With my high heels on, I was his height, around 5'10" or so.
"Hi, I'm Ulysses. Nice to meet you," he nodded, looking around the office for a chair.
I watched him, Doug temporarily leaving my thoughts. Ulysses was very muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, and cargo pants. The rain had an effect on his skin – his dark-chocolate skin, making it glisten. He wiped his forehead of rain.
"Oh, um, sorry, yes, feel free to sit there or the couch. Whatever is comfortable," I spoke up.
With my pen and paper, I took a seat across from him. He chose the chair.
He was nervous, most first timers are. I was nervous too, but not about meeting a new patient. He was having that effect on me.
"So, Ulysses, what can I do for you?"
"Well, um, not sure where to begin. I guess I'm just having issues when it comes to a certain aspect of my life," Ulysses answered.
"Ok, well I'll do my best to provide guidance."
"Yeah, well, it's," he paused. I could see the nerves.
"You can tell me. Are you having stress or anxiety issues? Problems coping with work, problems adjusting to changes in life?" I asked, staring into his eyes, avoiding his biceps and chests.
"It's sex," he blurted out, quickly feeling embarrassed.
"Oh, I see," my mind initially thought of performance issues. I've counseled a few folks that had anxieties and other issues that affected their sex life negatively.
"No, not performance problems. I just um," he read my mind and paused again.
Thinking about past patients, I pressed him further. "Sexual orientation issues? Maybe another type of dysfunction?"
Ulysses shook his head. "No," he took a deep breath. "Sex is my life. Everything about life revolves around it. I can't get away from it and everything ends up in sex."
I hoped I wasn't blushing. My eyes darted quickly to his muscular frame, then to his dreads pulled back into a ponytail, finally, embarrassingly, I glanced to his crotch.
"I see," I collected my thoughts, jotting this down on my notepad. "So you feel you may have some sort of addiction to sex?"
