[A mix of mind control, anal, oral, male and female dominant, smoking.]
WHEN A FRIEND NEEDS A FAVOR.
Erin had not been herself for the past two weeks. She seemed jittery and pre-occupied. And good friend that she was, Charlotte had noticed. So, she suggested a late lunch with Margaritas as the main course.
Holding off until Erin was well into her second, Charlotte leaned in and said, "Something's really eating at you; what's up?"
Erin deflected, "Nothing, why, what're you talking about?"
Charlotte sat back, "We've been friends for too long. Drain that, I'll get us another, you can take a big swallow and by then you'll be lubricated enough to spill it."
The drink came; Erin did as instructed.
"Fess up," Charlotte said. "Trouble with Richard? Your Mom? The Kids? Money?"
Erin leaned forward and put her head in her hands. "I can't."
Charlotte put her hands around Erin's. "You can't keep this in; it's wearing you down."
Erin put her lips against Charlotte's fingers. A deep breath and then, "Don't laugh or yell, but I can't explain it. I--I-- I can't stop thinking about getting fucked in the ass."
Charlotte did her best not to flinch or choke. "OK, not what I was expecting. And I'm not really equipped right now to help you out with that right now. What brought this on?"
Erin looked left and right. She leaned in and whispered, "I was messing around on the net and saw a link to an article about why anal is preferred by some folks. I read it, and I got a little tingly, so I looked up a couple more and by the time I was through I had gone to the porn sites for videos of girls and trannies getting it. And now two or three times a day I'm going back to the videos and then getting my vibrator and lubing it and probing around."
"Uhh, just probing?" was all Charlotte could manage.
"Yeah, I'm afraid to go too far in and then get stuck----you know, the Richard Gere and the Gerbil urban legend," she giggled.
"That would be a problem," Charlotte giggled back. "Have you talked to Richard about it--your Richard, not, you know, the other one?"
"Oh Good Christ no," Erin breathed. "He would have a stroke. He used to go down on me some, but then work, kids, middle-age, and all that crap."
Erin paused and looked up, "Uhh---you and Charles?"
Charlotte smiled, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, sweetie."
Erin grinned back, "Oh yeah, y'all used to go out there from time to time."
"Not for that, silly, we can do it -- well, not that, but "it" anywhere and when we can find the time. Emphasis on the when these days. Vegas was friends from my days in Hawaii, where I met Charles. But why are you so worked up?"
Erin took another big drink. "I can't be looking at porn all day and then running to the bathroom."
Charlotte laughed, "Why not? No kids at home."
"Sure, but what happens when plastic is not enough and I want the real thing, and then I get hooked on that."
Charlotte got serious, "This is just an obsession and it's scared you a bit 'cause you've always been a good little girl. But it's not like you're thinking of doing heroin. You should go see a counselor--talk it out."
Erin sighed, "Maybe----I don't know-----it can't the worst thing they've ever heard." She perked up, "And it's a bit out of the 'my husband doesn't understand me" schtick they always get; so will you go with me?"
"Well, they won't talk to me since it's not my---or 'our' problem----, but sure, I'll make sure you get through the door and wait outside," Charlotte replied. "But listen, that's three of Enrique's best you've tossed back, no way you are OK to drive."
"Not in the slightest," Erin giggled.
"Thought so---- I'll drive you home and you take a nap. I'll come get you after my errands and bring you back to pick up your car."
Fifteen minutes later, as Erin was making her way up her driveway, Charlotte watched to make sure she got inside without falling. She found herself focusing on Erin's ass as it swayed, a little from the Tequila and a little because she has a cute ass. 'Who would have thought,' she thought, chuckling slightly. And as she does, she feels a tingle in her own ass as she squeezes down a bit and another thought creeps in. 'Charles has never asked for it, yeah he fingers me there some like I do him, but-----there were those gaps in time when we were with Brett and his friends in Vegas-----but I would have known----yeah, I would have known.'
And later that evening as she's showering after her Peloton torture session, her hand lingers and strokes her cunt longer than usual and as she strokes, her long finger slides in and out of her ass. As she shivers more and more, she suddenly breaks contact when Charles yells that he's home.
*****
Mid-morning the cell phone buzzes. Erin's face is on the screen. Charlotte swipes and says," Well? Are we better today?"
"Somewhat," Erin replies. "But I found a counselor. You know over on Second where they converted that group of houses into professional business offices?"
"Sure," said Charlotte. "I closed the sale on four of them."
"Well, I swung by there on the way back this morning and there's a psychologist's office. I looked him up and one of the things he advertises is obsessive-compulsive type stuff."
She paused.
A few seconds later, Charlotte said softly, "And....."
Erin was breathless, "So I called and I can see him at four----will you go with me----I can't do it alone."
Charlotte hesitated, "Ahhhhhhh."
Erin was insistent, "Please, I've got to figure this out and you can keep me from backing out. Drinks on me afterwards. Charles in on the road again, right? So what else do you have to do tonight."
"Well, you've got me, he's back off to Spokane" Charlotte admitted. "I can't plead wifely obligations. I'll see you there."
"No," Erin insisted. "Come get me; drag me if you have to."
"OK-- 3:45," Charlotte agreed.
*****
Charlotte pulled into the parking lot. "Looks like we're the only car here; so that's a good thing. No need to have to explain this to someone we know."
"Yep," said Erin. "Let's get inside quickly."
"Agreed," Charlotte replied.
A quick walk up the step, and they were through the door. The waiting room was cozy and comfortable; a young man at a desk at the far end. He stood as they entered.