When Danielle admits to her handsome psychologist that she has sexual dreams about him, she's forced to describe her fantasies in such detail that Dr. Kent can't hide his own arousal. Soon, they're both ...
When Danielle admits to her handsome psychologist that she has sexual dreams about him, she's forced to describe her fantasies in such detail that Dr. Kent can't hide his own arousal. Soon, they're both acting on unspoken desires and violating ethics rules - and each other!
Dr. Kent tapped his pen against his pad in a slow, absent-minded rhythm. Finally, he spoke. "Will you tell me about these dreams?"
I blushed again. "All of them?"
"Pick one that stands out in your mind as significant."
I realized the moment had come. After today, my relationship with Dr. Kent would change. Either I would never see him again, or...
I slid my long, slender legs off the couch and sat up, smoothing my wool slacks as I looked into Dr. Kent's brown eyes. As I started to speak, my breath almost caught in my chest as I admired him. His custom-tailored suit hung perfectly on his trim, athletic body, and his face had the hard lines of a man still in his prime, with just enough gray at his temples to impart a sense of maturity. His calm, dark eyes held no arrogance, only the wisdom and confidence of an accomplished professional renowned in his field. I've been told that I'm a beautiful woman, but he was so formidable.
"Three nights ago, I dreamt that I met you in Paris," I told him, our eyes locked together. I knew if I looked away, I would lose my nerve. "I was sitting at an outdoor cafe, and you came strolling up the street. You were smoking a cigarette and..." I giggled at the memory. "Wearing a beret!"
Dr. Kent let out a low, warm chuckle, though I could tell he was trying to remain impassive.
"You asked me for directions, and I pulled out a map. But it wasn't a map at all. It was a silk robe. You know how dreams are," I said.
He nodded. "Please, go on."
"You told me you'd like to see me in the robe. The street was empty, so I took off all my clothes and put it on." I hesitated a moment, then decided to tell him all I could remember. "The air was cool, and my nipples got hard when I took off my bra."
Dr. Kent shifted forward, and I saw an intensity in his eyes that was almost frightening.
"Anyway, you admired the robe and tossed aside your cigarette, and when you kissed me, instead of smoke, I smelled your office. The leather, the fine paper, your cologne." I was wrapped up in the memory now, a faint smile on my face. "You kissed like an artist, full of passion and understanding. When you touched my body, it wasn't because you wanted to please yourself. It was because you wanted to please me. And you knew how."
Dr. Kent loosened his tie. His professional demeanor was fading fast, replaced by something like hunger. In a soft voice, he asked, "Where did I touch you?"
Now or never, Danielle. I stood before him and put my hands on my thighs. "You touched me everywhere," I told him. He looked up at me like a man enthralled as I slid my hands up my legs, over the curve of my hips and narrow waist, then cupped my breasts.
"Then what?" His voice was an urgent whisper now.
"You slid your hands inside my robe and pushed it open, right there on the street. I looked around, but it was as though Paris had emptied for us. You bent forward and took my right nipple in your mouth and began to suck..."
Dr. Kent shifted in his chair, and I noticed he was trying to conceal a bulging erection. Now it was his turn to blush.