Full Circle free porn video
My first career wasn’t destined to be my last. I still enjoyed Accounting, but being a Sex Coach was far more fulfilling to me physically and emotionally than the satisfaction of having a Balance Sheet balance. My career change happened gradually, with friends and then friends of friends coming to learn from me or ask for some sexual advice. I suppose they did it because I was so joyous about sex and its pleasures. My knowledge and practise slowly grew through studies and experience into a thriving, rewarding business. Patrick often assisted me in my therapy, sometimes as an active participant and sometimes as a responsive recipient, depending on what was required. He had trained with me, but still travelled extensively for his photography, so he wasn’t a full-time coach.
The coaching process was simple, I would consult with the individual or couple, assess the underlying message in what they were saying to me, and help them interpret it themselves. If it was a husband who was bored with his marital sex, we’d tease out what that meant, work through his fantasies and find out what would excite him in his sex life. Then we’d work on ways for him to open that discussion with his wife, or maybe to ask her to consider joining him in the coaching. If it was a wife who was feeling more assertive and maybe less sexy thanks to menopause, I’d guide her to using her chemistry and indulging her assertiveness without alienating her partner; I’d introduce her to herbs and oils that resensitised her body and allowed her to indulge herself as a sexual being.
As a sex coach, I didn’t do relationship or personal therapy, I only practised self-awareness, positive communication and freeing of sexual inhibitions on a very personal and often physical level. My real expertise was in guiding my clients to free themselves, to reconnect with their bodies on a sexual level, and then ultimately to reconnect with their sexual partner in a fulfilling, exciting way. A bonus of course was that the therapy would often feed my sexual fires too. One of those experiences burns brighter than most …
My first consultation with Lisa was exploratory for both of us. She had called to say she had heard of me from a friend, but didn’t really believe I could help her because she was frigid and had always been, despite having been in a variety of relationships. Of course she was calling because she wanted me to say I could help her, but I needed to know more before I could do that.
My fees are high because my success rate is high, but that also means I have some freedom in how I approach new business, so I suggested she meet me for tea and we’d get to know one another better before either of us decide whether we should enter into a coaching programme together. I had naturally built up an image from her voice, and she was very much what I’d thought except that she absolutely dripped sex appeal.
Lisa was already seated exactly where I would expect her to sit when I arrived because I knew she would be something of a control freak. She was towards the back, diagonally in a corner and facing the whole room. She knew who came and went around her all the time, and had an air of command that absolutely made her queen of the room. She merely had to turn her head for a waiter to come running. Even sitting, I knew she wasn’t dressed as I had expected. Her jacket and skirt said ‘business woman’, but the cleavage peeked out enough to say ‘look at me’, and the almost knee length skirt and high heeled shoes finished off the picture of assertive sexuality.
Her hand shake was firm, her eye contact direct – at least I’d expected that. I also wasn’t surprised when she stood to affirm her dominant position and held out a hand to me before I could take the initiative.
“Kerry, I’m Lisa. Thanks for meeting me.” There was no hesitation about who I was, but of course there wouldn’t be. I’m sure she’d googled every little bit of public information that existed about me. As a previous Financial Director of a relatively large enterprise, I was quite at ease with her professional presence, and as amused by my still being surprised by my clients as by her behaviour.
“Hi Lisa. Nice to meet you. I thought we’d get to know each other informally and not discuss anything business related at all until we have a feel for one another and know whether we’d even like to work together.” I was fluid in taking control quickly, but then, I’d known what I would be dealing with. “What’s the home-made lemonade like here? I’m dying for something cold and crisp to drink,” I asked, seeing what she’d ordered. I ordered myself one too and we sat and chatted for half an hour about her work, hairdressers, architecture and politics, and as we chatted we bonded as people. I didn’t need to ask her if she liked me, I knew she did from her warm, natural response to me and the sparkle in her eyes when she caught my humour a second before her laughter burst out of her.
When there was natural break in the conversation and no-one around us to inhibit her answer. I turned the conversation.
“Personal question?”
“Shoot.” I watched her carefully as she responded. She hadn’t tensed up, she wasn’t nervous to answer me, and she was going to be painfully direct in her responses, but she also looked defeated, and my heart went out to her. I knew then for sure that I really wanted to help her, but it was going to mean a lot of unfolding of many protective layers. I presume she expected me to ask if she’s been raped or something similar, so my next question brought the laughter bubbling out of her again, especially because it seemed I’d caught onto her a little.
“So what’s with the cleavage?”
“Well, you don’t look like a new-age cultist hippy sex therapist either,” she teased back. “What does a sex coach dress like? What does a frigid professional dress like? I dress in what looks pretty to me and in what is distracting enough to my male dominant business audience to get me my own way without them even realising it. What I dress is not how I fuck.” Interesting choice of word there, ‘fuck’. She was clearly making a point, but I already had that one tucked away in my mental file. To her sex wasn’t about connection, it was a thing to do, a deliverable to tick off, a performance to direct and complete. Of course fucking has its place, but that’s only part of the whole sexual experience.
“So I gather you’ve never had an orgasm when you fuck. Do you ever have one when you masturbate?”
“Yes, but that’s different.”
“You’re right, it is different. But now we know it isn’t likely to be a physical issue. I have a proposition for you,” challenging her was going to be the best approach, so I used her own personality to gain her buy-in. “You do everything I say for two months. I won’t ask anything that would feel unethical or immoral to you, but no matter how uncomfortable you are, you have to commit now to having the balls to follow through. After two months, if you feel there is progress, then you can backpay me and sign up for more if you need to. If not, you’ve lost nothing and you’ll have new experiences to add to who you are.” It didn’t take her long to consider.
“Deal.” She didn’t seem to have much more hope in her eyes, but her controlling streak liked that she now had a plan.
I gave her my business card and we made a date for the next day for her to come to my premises, dressed in comfortable clothes that she could move easily in.
We spent a whole month doing individual yoga sessions four times a week, working on breathing exercises and body and spirit awareness. In the relaxed post-meditation stage I guided her slowly and gently into discussing her sexual feelings and expressing her sexual fantasies. We introduced talk of smells and sounds, and I had subtly scented items in the room that enhanced the learning of that day. Afterwards we would change together in my change room so that she slowly got used to being nude in my presence although she never seemed uncomfortable with it.
“Our next session won’t be here,” I informed her in the fifth week. We’re going to the plot for a change of pace.” I knew that Lisa was starting to chafe at the slow pace we were moving at, but I also saw she was nervous now that there would be change. I recognised she was ready for the next step, so I smiled reassuringly. “You’re ready’” I reassured her. “It’ll just be you and I out in nature skinny-dipping.”
“Not in a river, that grosses me out!”
“No, city girl” I laughed, “in a clean, chlorinated swimming pool with gin martinis for after.”
Lisa laughed with me.
“You do know me well. I’ll be here, ready and even eager.”
She drove on Saturday so that she had a measure of control. I had arranged for the area to be prepared for us with fluffy towels, martini’s and snacks on ice, a therapy bed prepared in calming dappled shade and aromatherapy oils ready. We got there, and Lisa was still completely comfortable with me. We took off our clothes and jumped into the water, played around a little before we started some of our yoga exercises in the water. By the time we were done, it was time to get out of the sun. We both dried off, laughing about the goose-bumps on our skin as the water evaporated and commenting tongue-in-cheek on how our nipples had their own goose-bumps. Neither of us got dressed. Instead we sat in the shade enjoying ourselves with snacks and light martinis. I didn’t want alcohol to take any of the edge off of what Lisa was about to experience, I just wanted her to enjoy indulging in the decadence of the moment.
“You know Kerry, even if I don’t get over being frigid, I’ve learnt so much that this has already been worthwhile for me. I do know myself better, I’ve learnt how to relax inside myself and I cope better with stress in general. I’m even sleeping better.”
“You mean that the slow pace of yoga that nearly had you committing all sorts of elaborate suicide plans to escape has eventually converted you,” I grinned at her, reminding her of her initial good-natured griping.
“I’m addicted,” she admitted. “You’ve converted me.”
“It’s only the beginning,” I promised, we’re going to slowly go into more interesting paths with the yoga too. But today is going to be completely different. I want to give you a naked, full-body massage. I know you aren’t gay, and this isn’t supposed to be sexual, but if you’re okay with it, I will touch you in sexual places which will cause some normal arousal responses. Just enjoy them. This is for you to just feel pleasure and relaxation at someone else's hands without anything being expected of you. Would you be okay with that?” Lisa had read up before she had ever contacted me, so she knew what my therapy was about, and she’d clearly decided long ago that she would accept me touching her intimately.
‘And Patrick?” I wondered to myself. ‘Had she gone that far in her research and acceptance that she had considered that he would be touching her too?’ I didn’t ask her yet though, that was still a long way off.
Lisa lay down on the therapy bed on her stomach first. I used an unusual blend of aromatherapy oils, ones I’d subtly been choosing for her and using in the yoga sessions. I wanted her comfortable but not antsy, so my touch was firmer than an aromatherapy massage normally is, but nothing close to physical discomfort. I worked everywhere, from her head all the way down to her toes and back up again until I knew there wasn’t a single knot left in her anywhere. Then I changed tack slightly, using more arousing strokes and allowing my breath to caress her skin. I was rewarded when her breath become shallower and sometimes non-existent. I started whispering sexy stories to her, extrapolations from her fantasies. I didn’t even stop my sexy words to ask her to turn over, I just used body language, and she turned fluidly, hardly opening her eyes as she indulged in the moment.
I carried on massaging her, but this time it was slightly more sexual because I avoided her breasts and pubic area for a while before touching her there in what were now decidedly sexual touches. I knew I was welcome because her nipples were so tightly puckered they were visually screaming for attention and I could smell her arousal as she started to drip her sex-cream. I worked her breasts and nipples for a long time, playing with them more and more firmly until she started squirming and moving her hands as if not quite sure where to put them. When I removed my hands she actually moaned.
“Uhhnnn – no – don’t stop.’ I had to though because I needed clean hands for my next step. I wanted no smell on my hands at all: I was going to move down more intimately now, and I only wanted the smell of her vaginal essence on my fingers. There is no oil that can compete with the smell or taste of pure arousal.
Her legs had fallen apart a long time ago, her groin silently begging me for attention, and now was the time. I moved my hand down over her smooth hairless pussy and it slid slickly between her lips onto her wonderfully engorged clit. I loved the slick textures as I slid over them, close to her hole, but stopped myself just before my finger slipped in. This wasn’t about me or about penetration, it was about Lisa’s arousal.
Lisa’s legs were spread so wide they were almost falling off of the therapy bed. I kept her anchored with my one hand on her pussy lips, sliding up and down the sides and sometimes grazing her hungry little clit. Her arousal was pure and fierce, and I could see she had an orgasm building, but that also wasn’t mine to gift her – yet. I lifted a finger from my other hand that had been exploring her pussy to her nose.
“Smell yourself,” I encouraged her." Smell what you smell like when you are turned on ... and now taste,” I offered as I held the same finger in front of her mouth. She did, sucking it in eagerly as my other hand played with her pussy, keeping her hovering on the edge. Her eyes were closed as she climbed loser to her peak.
“You’re walking into a room full of men in tuxedos, and they’re all staring at you, so eager for you. But you aren’t dressed, are you? You’re completely breathtakingly naked with your nipples staring proudly ahead. They all want you and you can feel it. You stand in the middle of the room and start dancing, lifting your hair and teasing your nipples. Your dance is sexual, a siren’s song, and they’re all mesmerised, watching you, rock hard but not daring to move. You carry on dancing, loving yourself, your one hand pinching your nipple, the other travelling over your stomach, teasing the flare of your hips and eventually, flirtatiously dipping down between your legs, playing with your clit, feeling your wetness.” As I repeated one of her favourite fantasies, my fingers continued playing with her, but her hands now knew where to go and what to do. One drifted to her free breast, kneading it and pulling on her nipple whilst the other replaced mine on her clit and started rubbing frantically in a rhythm that aroused her even more.
“Their cocks are out and they’re playing with themselves now.... and they’re coming closer as if you’re drawing them in, moths to a burning flame. They’re starting to touch you … feel their hands on you … feel their arousal … do you smell it … do you smell your own arousal …?” I continued touching her, working on her nipples and pussy as if I was those men and within seconds she had tipped herself into a shuddering climax, moaning out loud as she quivered, unable to hold herself back.
I withdrew for a few minutes, leaving her to gentle herself back from her high. We had successfully reached step one, an assisted orgasm where she was still in control and still responsible for her own orgasm, but didn’t freeze up in the presence of someone else. Of course I was left dripping wet and professionally unable to do anything about it right now, but Patrick was going to love being attacked when I got home. I’m sure he was already enjoying the anticipation.
I rejoined Lisa after a few minutes with a cool glass of water and was pleased that she wasn’t self-conscious with me.
“Kerry, that was amazing! I have never had an orgasm like that.”
“It did look good,” I teased her, “but do you know what this means?” She had clearly already reached her own conclusions regarding that, but not quite as I’d planned.
“Yes. It means I’m gay.” I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
“No Lisa, that you are not. You might be bisexual, but that’s for later experimentation. No lesbian would come so hard to a fantasy of that many cocks all around her. We have still got lots to explore, but at least this gives you something good to build on.”
We spoke a lot in the car on the way home about what might be influencing her other sexual experiences. I hadn’t even asked her about her relationships or any sexual experience that might be causing her to try to over-manage her encounters. We lightly touched on those things now, and it seemed to me that she really just had been choosing the wrong type of man, weak men who wanted a strong woman. I made a friendly suggestion that she give it some thought and maybe get therapeutic help if she thought she needed it to. She seemed to think that she’d keep that door open but that it wasn’t necessary currently and I tended to agree with her.
“What’s next?” she asked, pre-empting me. I could see that she wasn’t pushing for control reasons, but because she was excited. She sensed her wings of freedom were about to sprout and she was an eager fledgling, wanted to try them.
“What do you think is next?” I queried, checking how prepared she was for what was to come.
“Patrick?” she queried, and I swear she licked her lips.
“Patrick,” I confirmed, pausing a moment to let it sink in. “You’ve managed step one, so you got to a place where you could shut your mind down and let your body enjoy itself without wasting your energy on controlling the other person. Now the second step is about actually enjoying the other person.”
“Give me details … you know me.”
“Yes, I do.” I smiled at her. Part of her would always need to be in control, but at least now she could manage when to switch it on and off.
“Usually we do this with both parties blindfolded, but considering one of your fantasies, I think we can make a few changes there.”
“The dark room fantasy?” Her voice raised girlishly at the end in excitement.
“The dark room,” I confirmed, grinning at her as I got caught up in her excitement. “The three of us will be in there together, you, myself and Patrick, but only you and Patrick will be naked. I’m going to talk you through touching him, smelling him enjoying everything about him until your senses are so caught up in the sexuality between you that all you want is to taste him, smell him, touch him, suck him.”
“I don’t suck cock.”
“You don’t have to suck cock – if you don’t want to. Just allow yourself to explore his cock with the freedom to suck it if you want to, and knowing you’re not going to have sex, you don’t have to perform or impress. All you have to do is experience. You only have to do what you want to do so long as you don’t inhibit yourself without reason.”
“Do you suck cock?
“I do.”
“Are you telling me you really like it?” she clearly didn’t think it possible.
“No, Lisa, I really love it!” There was no doubting my sincerity. “Sometimes I actually crave it, which surprises even me, because I wasn’t like that before.” Lisa looked thoughtful but didn’t say more.
We continued our yoga sessions, and Lisa was clearly excited about her upcoming experience. She had to wait two weeks from Patrick to return from somewhere in North Africa and I had issued Lisa a masturbation ban until then. Patrick loved these sessions, so he was also looking forward to it, and we had some good role-playing phone sex to tide us over with me playing Lisa.
Eventually the day arrived. Patrick had agreed to empty out his dark room for me to use. I put in a rug and cushions, but nothing else was necessary. Patrick was in the room waiting when Lisa arrived. I knew he would be enjoying himself cocooned in the dark like that, full of sexual expectation. His hand would be slowly, teasingly wanking his cock, keeping himself erect, but not going anywhere. I knew he loved to pay with his balls when he did that. Damn-it, there I was all aroused again and definitely not going anywhere with it soon – again. There was a very tantric aspect to my sex life.
Lisa and very comfortably took off all her clothes without needing guidance or encouragement. She hadn’t ever been uncomfortable with her nudity in front of me, but now she was even more at ease. We entered the dark room together with me behind her. I politely introduced the two who couldn’t see so much as a shadow, which elicited a bubble of laughter from Lisa given what she was about to do.
“Lisa, Patrick is standing a couple of steps in front of you. You can move forward and touch him. He won’t touch you back unless you ask him to, but don’t rush into that. Use your senses when you touch him. Smell his body. Smell the difference between his neck, his armpits and his cock. Lick his shoulder, does he make a sound? Is it different to the sound he makes when you stick a tongue in his navel, or if you nuzzle under his arm? He’s clean shaven under his arm, what does that feel like to you?” I spoke slowly, encouraging her to touch, taste, experience.
“Go down in front of him on your knees, Lisa.” I heard Patrick automatically shifting, spreading his legs to give her more space to explore him. “Can you smell him Lisa? What does he smell like?”
“He smells musky, a little bit sweet.”
“Now feel your own arousal. Smell it. Does it smell different?”
“Yes, it doesn’t smells a little more neutral, sweet and clear.”
“Your smell gets stronger as you get more turned on,” I explained. She had just confirmed for me that she was aroused by touching Patrick, but also that she needed to catch up to his level of arousal. “Feel the texture of his shaft, and how it contrasts with the wrinkly feeling of his balls. And if you touch his balls, can you feel the hard eggs inside?”
“Yes…” she sighed the word slowly, clearly getting caught up in her experimentation. I heard Patrick’s sudden intake of breath as he sought for control.
“Did you hear that Lisa? Did you hear Patrick’s breath?”
“Yes, I breathed on him as I was speaking to you; his cock jumped in my hand and he breathed hard. He’s excited; there’s more precum on the tip now. And he’s breathing harder.” She was telling me these things, but it was obvious she was actually teasing him. I could hear the slippery sound of her wanking his clearly rampant cock as she spoke.
“Listen to the sounds of your hand sliding on his cock and the sounds of his breathing, Lisa.”
“Yes, I took some of my juices to make him extra slippery. I can hear them and smell them as they mix together.”
“Is there anything else you want to try now, Lisa?
“Yes. Patrick, can you lie down so that I can taste and smell your balls and cock a little bit. I don’t think I want to suck you, I just want to explore?” Lisa sounded a little hesitant. Patrick answered her before I could.
“You only do what you want to do, Lisa. If you’d like me to touch you while you’re doing it, then just say so, otherwise I won’t.
“If I turn in a 69 position, will you just rub up and down my pussy for me with your fingers? I had a fantasy last night about a cock just sliding up and down my pussy.” Patrick didn’t answer with words, but I gathered from her heightened breath that he was doing just as she wanted.
“He mostly just smells clean around his balls,” Lisa continued reporting to me a little more breathily, “but his skin tastes very different here to on his cock. It’s strange how texture seems to have a taste. His precum is flowing more freely now. It’s dripping down his cock. You’re right, Kerry, I have to taste it.” I heard her tongue lick messily up his shaft. Lisa was not a slow learner. It wasn’t long before she spoke again in a higher, even reedier voice, clearly highly aroused. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to suck his cock.”
“Only if you want to.”
Lisa didn’t answer, but the sounds told me what was happening. Patrick’s breath was racing, and the sound of his cock sometimes popping out of her mouth in between the noisy slurps as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft were hugely arousing. I could only imagine how he was struggling to maintain his control.
I knew how Patrick would be working my mouth if it was me there between his legs, sucking him. I could almost taste him, almost feel his hand behind my head as he eagerly anchored me in place.
“Please Patrick, will you suck me.” I hadn’t expected Lisa to trust him so fast, but Patrick adores eating pussy and he was very eager to oblige. Thankfully I could rely on him to read the signs regardless of how much he was enjoying eating her hungry little pussy. The mewling sounds she made confirmed that she enjoyed his skills as much as I did.
I heard her breath building, just as I heard Patrick controlling his, so I wasn’t at all surprised when she burst into a much noisier orgasm than she had had at the pool two weeks before. I also wasn’t surprised that Patrick didn’t stop. He carried on eating her, maintaining her high, then building it up, and up again.
“I can’t, no... yes… yes! Your tongue inside me feels sooo good. Yes Patrick, suck my clit just like that. I can’t believe it … I can’t …. Unnnnnhhhhh” as she flew into a second orgasm.”
Patrick stilled slowly, his hands softly massaging Lisa as her breathing quietened. I moved to touch Lisa now for the first time since she had started her explorations.
“Lisa, it’s pretty clear you aren’t frigid. Do you agree?” I asked her after she was breathing normally again. It’s important to reconfirm insights like that in the moment of acceptance to ensure they are properly entrenched.
“Oh yes!”
“Excellent, I’m glad we could work through it for you.”
“But I’m not done with Patrick yet. Please can I ride him, Kerry, please? That’s part of my dark room fantasy.”
“I’m sorry Lisa, that wouldn’t be right. Professionally I can’t let you make decisions in the heat of the moment that we didn’t agree to before and that you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for. Penetration is something that requires consent, and the heat of the moment doesn’t count as consent.” Lisa was quiet for a moment.
“Kerry, we’ve agreed I’m not frigid?”
“We have!” I was smiling because I was really pleased for her.
“Then my therapy has successfully ended, hasn’t it?”
“Yes …?”
“ I do hope we’re friends?”
“Of course we are.” I knew exactly what she was doing, and there really was no faulting her logic.
“As your friend, Kerry, I’d really love to go down on all fours and suck your pussy while Patrick fucks me from behind. You must be dripping wet already from listening to us. In fact I know you are because I can smell you.”
Fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck!!! And now that is exactly the right word to use. I so wanted to agree with her, but could I? Lisa didn’t wait around for me to decide. Instead she became the teacher and started undressing me in the dark.
“Sometimes Kerry you have to go with what feels right in the moment. Don’t overthink.” She encouraged me, her hand slipping past my panties into my fiery heat.
... And so the student becomes the teacher. Full circle.
The coaching process was simple, I would consult with the individual or couple, assess the underlying message in what they were saying to me, and help them interpret it themselves. If it was a husband who was bored with his marital sex, we’d tease out what that meant, work through his fantasies and find out what would excite him in his sex life. Then we’d work on ways for him to open that discussion with his wife, or maybe to ask her to consider joining him in the coaching. If it was a wife who was feeling more assertive and maybe less sexy thanks to menopause, I’d guide her to using her chemistry and indulging her assertiveness without alienating her partner; I’d introduce her to herbs and oils that resensitised her body and allowed her to indulge herself as a sexual being.
As a sex coach, I didn’t do relationship or personal therapy, I only practised self-awareness, positive communication and freeing of sexual inhibitions on a very personal and often physical level. My real expertise was in guiding my clients to free themselves, to reconnect with their bodies on a sexual level, and then ultimately to reconnect with their sexual partner in a fulfilling, exciting way. A bonus of course was that the therapy would often feed my sexual fires too. One of those experiences burns brighter than most …
My first consultation with Lisa was exploratory for both of us. She had called to say she had heard of me from a friend, but didn’t really believe I could help her because she was frigid and had always been, despite having been in a variety of relationships. Of course she was calling because she wanted me to say I could help her, but I needed to know more before I could do that.
My fees are high because my success rate is high, but that also means I have some freedom in how I approach new business, so I suggested she meet me for tea and we’d get to know one another better before either of us decide whether we should enter into a coaching programme together. I had naturally built up an image from her voice, and she was very much what I’d thought except that she absolutely dripped sex appeal.
Lisa was already seated exactly where I would expect her to sit when I arrived because I knew she would be something of a control freak. She was towards the back, diagonally in a corner and facing the whole room. She knew who came and went around her all the time, and had an air of command that absolutely made her queen of the room. She merely had to turn her head for a waiter to come running. Even sitting, I knew she wasn’t dressed as I had expected. Her jacket and skirt said ‘business woman’, but the cleavage peeked out enough to say ‘look at me’, and the almost knee length skirt and high heeled shoes finished off the picture of assertive sexuality.
Her hand shake was firm, her eye contact direct – at least I’d expected that. I also wasn’t surprised when she stood to affirm her dominant position and held out a hand to me before I could take the initiative.
“Kerry, I’m Lisa. Thanks for meeting me.” There was no hesitation about who I was, but of course there wouldn’t be. I’m sure she’d googled every little bit of public information that existed about me. As a previous Financial Director of a relatively large enterprise, I was quite at ease with her professional presence, and as amused by my still being surprised by my clients as by her behaviour.
“Hi Lisa. Nice to meet you. I thought we’d get to know each other informally and not discuss anything business related at all until we have a feel for one another and know whether we’d even like to work together.” I was fluid in taking control quickly, but then, I’d known what I would be dealing with. “What’s the home-made lemonade like here? I’m dying for something cold and crisp to drink,” I asked, seeing what she’d ordered. I ordered myself one too and we sat and chatted for half an hour about her work, hairdressers, architecture and politics, and as we chatted we bonded as people. I didn’t need to ask her if she liked me, I knew she did from her warm, natural response to me and the sparkle in her eyes when she caught my humour a second before her laughter burst out of her.
When there was natural break in the conversation and no-one around us to inhibit her answer. I turned the conversation.
“Personal question?”
“Shoot.” I watched her carefully as she responded. She hadn’t tensed up, she wasn’t nervous to answer me, and she was going to be painfully direct in her responses, but she also looked defeated, and my heart went out to her. I knew then for sure that I really wanted to help her, but it was going to mean a lot of unfolding of many protective layers. I presume she expected me to ask if she’s been raped or something similar, so my next question brought the laughter bubbling out of her again, especially because it seemed I’d caught onto her a little.
“So what’s with the cleavage?”
“Well, you don’t look like a new-age cultist hippy sex therapist either,” she teased back. “What does a sex coach dress like? What does a frigid professional dress like? I dress in what looks pretty to me and in what is distracting enough to my male dominant business audience to get me my own way without them even realising it. What I dress is not how I fuck.” Interesting choice of word there, ‘fuck’. She was clearly making a point, but I already had that one tucked away in my mental file. To her sex wasn’t about connection, it was a thing to do, a deliverable to tick off, a performance to direct and complete. Of course fucking has its place, but that’s only part of the whole sexual experience.
“So I gather you’ve never had an orgasm when you fuck. Do you ever have one when you masturbate?”
“Yes, but that’s different.”
“You’re right, it is different. But now we know it isn’t likely to be a physical issue. I have a proposition for you,” challenging her was going to be the best approach, so I used her own personality to gain her buy-in. “You do everything I say for two months. I won’t ask anything that would feel unethical or immoral to you, but no matter how uncomfortable you are, you have to commit now to having the balls to follow through. After two months, if you feel there is progress, then you can backpay me and sign up for more if you need to. If not, you’ve lost nothing and you’ll have new experiences to add to who you are.” It didn’t take her long to consider.
“Deal.” She didn’t seem to have much more hope in her eyes, but her controlling streak liked that she now had a plan.
I gave her my business card and we made a date for the next day for her to come to my premises, dressed in comfortable clothes that she could move easily in.
We spent a whole month doing individual yoga sessions four times a week, working on breathing exercises and body and spirit awareness. In the relaxed post-meditation stage I guided her slowly and gently into discussing her sexual feelings and expressing her sexual fantasies. We introduced talk of smells and sounds, and I had subtly scented items in the room that enhanced the learning of that day. Afterwards we would change together in my change room so that she slowly got used to being nude in my presence although she never seemed uncomfortable with it.
“Our next session won’t be here,” I informed her in the fifth week. We’re going to the plot for a change of pace.” I knew that Lisa was starting to chafe at the slow pace we were moving at, but I also saw she was nervous now that there would be change. I recognised she was ready for the next step, so I smiled reassuringly. “You’re ready’” I reassured her. “It’ll just be you and I out in nature skinny-dipping.”
“Not in a river, that grosses me out!”
“No, city girl” I laughed, “in a clean, chlorinated swimming pool with gin martinis for after.”
Lisa laughed with me.
“You do know me well. I’ll be here, ready and even eager.”
She drove on Saturday so that she had a measure of control. I had arranged for the area to be prepared for us with fluffy towels, martini’s and snacks on ice, a therapy bed prepared in calming dappled shade and aromatherapy oils ready. We got there, and Lisa was still completely comfortable with me. We took off our clothes and jumped into the water, played around a little before we started some of our yoga exercises in the water. By the time we were done, it was time to get out of the sun. We both dried off, laughing about the goose-bumps on our skin as the water evaporated and commenting tongue-in-cheek on how our nipples had their own goose-bumps. Neither of us got dressed. Instead we sat in the shade enjoying ourselves with snacks and light martinis. I didn’t want alcohol to take any of the edge off of what Lisa was about to experience, I just wanted her to enjoy indulging in the decadence of the moment.
“You know Kerry, even if I don’t get over being frigid, I’ve learnt so much that this has already been worthwhile for me. I do know myself better, I’ve learnt how to relax inside myself and I cope better with stress in general. I’m even sleeping better.”
“You mean that the slow pace of yoga that nearly had you committing all sorts of elaborate suicide plans to escape has eventually converted you,” I grinned at her, reminding her of her initial good-natured griping.
“I’m addicted,” she admitted. “You’ve converted me.”
“It’s only the beginning,” I promised, we’re going to slowly go into more interesting paths with the yoga too. But today is going to be completely different. I want to give you a naked, full-body massage. I know you aren’t gay, and this isn’t supposed to be sexual, but if you’re okay with it, I will touch you in sexual places which will cause some normal arousal responses. Just enjoy them. This is for you to just feel pleasure and relaxation at someone else's hands without anything being expected of you. Would you be okay with that?” Lisa had read up before she had ever contacted me, so she knew what my therapy was about, and she’d clearly decided long ago that she would accept me touching her intimately.
‘And Patrick?” I wondered to myself. ‘Had she gone that far in her research and acceptance that she had considered that he would be touching her too?’ I didn’t ask her yet though, that was still a long way off.
Lisa lay down on the therapy bed on her stomach first. I used an unusual blend of aromatherapy oils, ones I’d subtly been choosing for her and using in the yoga sessions. I wanted her comfortable but not antsy, so my touch was firmer than an aromatherapy massage normally is, but nothing close to physical discomfort. I worked everywhere, from her head all the way down to her toes and back up again until I knew there wasn’t a single knot left in her anywhere. Then I changed tack slightly, using more arousing strokes and allowing my breath to caress her skin. I was rewarded when her breath become shallower and sometimes non-existent. I started whispering sexy stories to her, extrapolations from her fantasies. I didn’t even stop my sexy words to ask her to turn over, I just used body language, and she turned fluidly, hardly opening her eyes as she indulged in the moment.
I carried on massaging her, but this time it was slightly more sexual because I avoided her breasts and pubic area for a while before touching her there in what were now decidedly sexual touches. I knew I was welcome because her nipples were so tightly puckered they were visually screaming for attention and I could smell her arousal as she started to drip her sex-cream. I worked her breasts and nipples for a long time, playing with them more and more firmly until she started squirming and moving her hands as if not quite sure where to put them. When I removed my hands she actually moaned.
“Uhhnnn – no – don’t stop.’ I had to though because I needed clean hands for my next step. I wanted no smell on my hands at all: I was going to move down more intimately now, and I only wanted the smell of her vaginal essence on my fingers. There is no oil that can compete with the smell or taste of pure arousal.
Her legs had fallen apart a long time ago, her groin silently begging me for attention, and now was the time. I moved my hand down over her smooth hairless pussy and it slid slickly between her lips onto her wonderfully engorged clit. I loved the slick textures as I slid over them, close to her hole, but stopped myself just before my finger slipped in. This wasn’t about me or about penetration, it was about Lisa’s arousal.
Lisa’s legs were spread so wide they were almost falling off of the therapy bed. I kept her anchored with my one hand on her pussy lips, sliding up and down the sides and sometimes grazing her hungry little clit. Her arousal was pure and fierce, and I could see she had an orgasm building, but that also wasn’t mine to gift her – yet. I lifted a finger from my other hand that had been exploring her pussy to her nose.
“Smell yourself,” I encouraged her." Smell what you smell like when you are turned on ... and now taste,” I offered as I held the same finger in front of her mouth. She did, sucking it in eagerly as my other hand played with her pussy, keeping her hovering on the edge. Her eyes were closed as she climbed loser to her peak.
“You’re walking into a room full of men in tuxedos, and they’re all staring at you, so eager for you. But you aren’t dressed, are you? You’re completely breathtakingly naked with your nipples staring proudly ahead. They all want you and you can feel it. You stand in the middle of the room and start dancing, lifting your hair and teasing your nipples. Your dance is sexual, a siren’s song, and they’re all mesmerised, watching you, rock hard but not daring to move. You carry on dancing, loving yourself, your one hand pinching your nipple, the other travelling over your stomach, teasing the flare of your hips and eventually, flirtatiously dipping down between your legs, playing with your clit, feeling your wetness.” As I repeated one of her favourite fantasies, my fingers continued playing with her, but her hands now knew where to go and what to do. One drifted to her free breast, kneading it and pulling on her nipple whilst the other replaced mine on her clit and started rubbing frantically in a rhythm that aroused her even more.
“Their cocks are out and they’re playing with themselves now.... and they’re coming closer as if you’re drawing them in, moths to a burning flame. They’re starting to touch you … feel their hands on you … feel their arousal … do you smell it … do you smell your own arousal …?” I continued touching her, working on her nipples and pussy as if I was those men and within seconds she had tipped herself into a shuddering climax, moaning out loud as she quivered, unable to hold herself back.
I withdrew for a few minutes, leaving her to gentle herself back from her high. We had successfully reached step one, an assisted orgasm where she was still in control and still responsible for her own orgasm, but didn’t freeze up in the presence of someone else. Of course I was left dripping wet and professionally unable to do anything about it right now, but Patrick was going to love being attacked when I got home. I’m sure he was already enjoying the anticipation.
I rejoined Lisa after a few minutes with a cool glass of water and was pleased that she wasn’t self-conscious with me.
“Kerry, that was amazing! I have never had an orgasm like that.”
“It did look good,” I teased her, “but do you know what this means?” She had clearly already reached her own conclusions regarding that, but not quite as I’d planned.
“Yes. It means I’m gay.” I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing.
“No Lisa, that you are not. You might be bisexual, but that’s for later experimentation. No lesbian would come so hard to a fantasy of that many cocks all around her. We have still got lots to explore, but at least this gives you something good to build on.”
We spoke a lot in the car on the way home about what might be influencing her other sexual experiences. I hadn’t even asked her about her relationships or any sexual experience that might be causing her to try to over-manage her encounters. We lightly touched on those things now, and it seemed to me that she really just had been choosing the wrong type of man, weak men who wanted a strong woman. I made a friendly suggestion that she give it some thought and maybe get therapeutic help if she thought she needed it to. She seemed to think that she’d keep that door open but that it wasn’t necessary currently and I tended to agree with her.
“What’s next?” she asked, pre-empting me. I could see that she wasn’t pushing for control reasons, but because she was excited. She sensed her wings of freedom were about to sprout and she was an eager fledgling, wanted to try them.
“What do you think is next?” I queried, checking how prepared she was for what was to come.
“Patrick?” she queried, and I swear she licked her lips.
“Patrick,” I confirmed, pausing a moment to let it sink in. “You’ve managed step one, so you got to a place where you could shut your mind down and let your body enjoy itself without wasting your energy on controlling the other person. Now the second step is about actually enjoying the other person.”
“Give me details … you know me.”
“Yes, I do.” I smiled at her. Part of her would always need to be in control, but at least now she could manage when to switch it on and off.
“Usually we do this with both parties blindfolded, but considering one of your fantasies, I think we can make a few changes there.”
“The dark room fantasy?” Her voice raised girlishly at the end in excitement.
“The dark room,” I confirmed, grinning at her as I got caught up in her excitement. “The three of us will be in there together, you, myself and Patrick, but only you and Patrick will be naked. I’m going to talk you through touching him, smelling him enjoying everything about him until your senses are so caught up in the sexuality between you that all you want is to taste him, smell him, touch him, suck him.”
“I don’t suck cock.”
“You don’t have to suck cock – if you don’t want to. Just allow yourself to explore his cock with the freedom to suck it if you want to, and knowing you’re not going to have sex, you don’t have to perform or impress. All you have to do is experience. You only have to do what you want to do so long as you don’t inhibit yourself without reason.”
“Do you suck cock?
“I do.”
“Are you telling me you really like it?” she clearly didn’t think it possible.
“No, Lisa, I really love it!” There was no doubting my sincerity. “Sometimes I actually crave it, which surprises even me, because I wasn’t like that before.” Lisa looked thoughtful but didn’t say more.
We continued our yoga sessions, and Lisa was clearly excited about her upcoming experience. She had to wait two weeks from Patrick to return from somewhere in North Africa and I had issued Lisa a masturbation ban until then. Patrick loved these sessions, so he was also looking forward to it, and we had some good role-playing phone sex to tide us over with me playing Lisa.
Eventually the day arrived. Patrick had agreed to empty out his dark room for me to use. I put in a rug and cushions, but nothing else was necessary. Patrick was in the room waiting when Lisa arrived. I knew he would be enjoying himself cocooned in the dark like that, full of sexual expectation. His hand would be slowly, teasingly wanking his cock, keeping himself erect, but not going anywhere. I knew he loved to pay with his balls when he did that. Damn-it, there I was all aroused again and definitely not going anywhere with it soon – again. There was a very tantric aspect to my sex life.
Lisa and very comfortably took off all her clothes without needing guidance or encouragement. She hadn’t ever been uncomfortable with her nudity in front of me, but now she was even more at ease. We entered the dark room together with me behind her. I politely introduced the two who couldn’t see so much as a shadow, which elicited a bubble of laughter from Lisa given what she was about to do.
“Lisa, Patrick is standing a couple of steps in front of you. You can move forward and touch him. He won’t touch you back unless you ask him to, but don’t rush into that. Use your senses when you touch him. Smell his body. Smell the difference between his neck, his armpits and his cock. Lick his shoulder, does he make a sound? Is it different to the sound he makes when you stick a tongue in his navel, or if you nuzzle under his arm? He’s clean shaven under his arm, what does that feel like to you?” I spoke slowly, encouraging her to touch, taste, experience.
“Go down in front of him on your knees, Lisa.” I heard Patrick automatically shifting, spreading his legs to give her more space to explore him. “Can you smell him Lisa? What does he smell like?”
“He smells musky, a little bit sweet.”
“Now feel your own arousal. Smell it. Does it smell different?”
“Yes, it doesn’t smells a little more neutral, sweet and clear.”
“Your smell gets stronger as you get more turned on,” I explained. She had just confirmed for me that she was aroused by touching Patrick, but also that she needed to catch up to his level of arousal. “Feel the texture of his shaft, and how it contrasts with the wrinkly feeling of his balls. And if you touch his balls, can you feel the hard eggs inside?”
“Yes…” she sighed the word slowly, clearly getting caught up in her experimentation. I heard Patrick’s sudden intake of breath as he sought for control.
“Did you hear that Lisa? Did you hear Patrick’s breath?”
“Yes, I breathed on him as I was speaking to you; his cock jumped in my hand and he breathed hard. He’s excited; there’s more precum on the tip now. And he’s breathing harder.” She was telling me these things, but it was obvious she was actually teasing him. I could hear the slippery sound of her wanking his clearly rampant cock as she spoke.
“Listen to the sounds of your hand sliding on his cock and the sounds of his breathing, Lisa.”
“Yes, I took some of my juices to make him extra slippery. I can hear them and smell them as they mix together.”
“Is there anything else you want to try now, Lisa?
“Yes. Patrick, can you lie down so that I can taste and smell your balls and cock a little bit. I don’t think I want to suck you, I just want to explore?” Lisa sounded a little hesitant. Patrick answered her before I could.
“You only do what you want to do, Lisa. If you’d like me to touch you while you’re doing it, then just say so, otherwise I won’t.
“If I turn in a 69 position, will you just rub up and down my pussy for me with your fingers? I had a fantasy last night about a cock just sliding up and down my pussy.” Patrick didn’t answer with words, but I gathered from her heightened breath that he was doing just as she wanted.
“He mostly just smells clean around his balls,” Lisa continued reporting to me a little more breathily, “but his skin tastes very different here to on his cock. It’s strange how texture seems to have a taste. His precum is flowing more freely now. It’s dripping down his cock. You’re right, Kerry, I have to taste it.” I heard her tongue lick messily up his shaft. Lisa was not a slow learner. It wasn’t long before she spoke again in a higher, even reedier voice, clearly highly aroused. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to suck his cock.”
“Only if you want to.”
Lisa didn’t answer, but the sounds told me what was happening. Patrick’s breath was racing, and the sound of his cock sometimes popping out of her mouth in between the noisy slurps as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft were hugely arousing. I could only imagine how he was struggling to maintain his control.
I knew how Patrick would be working my mouth if it was me there between his legs, sucking him. I could almost taste him, almost feel his hand behind my head as he eagerly anchored me in place.
“Please Patrick, will you suck me.” I hadn’t expected Lisa to trust him so fast, but Patrick adores eating pussy and he was very eager to oblige. Thankfully I could rely on him to read the signs regardless of how much he was enjoying eating her hungry little pussy. The mewling sounds she made confirmed that she enjoyed his skills as much as I did.
I heard her breath building, just as I heard Patrick controlling his, so I wasn’t at all surprised when she burst into a much noisier orgasm than she had had at the pool two weeks before. I also wasn’t surprised that Patrick didn’t stop. He carried on eating her, maintaining her high, then building it up, and up again.
“I can’t, no... yes… yes! Your tongue inside me feels sooo good. Yes Patrick, suck my clit just like that. I can’t believe it … I can’t …. Unnnnnhhhhh” as she flew into a second orgasm.”
Patrick stilled slowly, his hands softly massaging Lisa as her breathing quietened. I moved to touch Lisa now for the first time since she had started her explorations.
“Lisa, it’s pretty clear you aren’t frigid. Do you agree?” I asked her after she was breathing normally again. It’s important to reconfirm insights like that in the moment of acceptance to ensure they are properly entrenched.
“Oh yes!”
“Excellent, I’m glad we could work through it for you.”
“But I’m not done with Patrick yet. Please can I ride him, Kerry, please? That’s part of my dark room fantasy.”
“I’m sorry Lisa, that wouldn’t be right. Professionally I can’t let you make decisions in the heat of the moment that we didn’t agree to before and that you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for. Penetration is something that requires consent, and the heat of the moment doesn’t count as consent.” Lisa was quiet for a moment.
“Kerry, we’ve agreed I’m not frigid?”
“We have!” I was smiling because I was really pleased for her.
“Then my therapy has successfully ended, hasn’t it?”
“Yes …?”
“ I do hope we’re friends?”
“Of course we are.” I knew exactly what she was doing, and there really was no faulting her logic.
“As your friend, Kerry, I’d really love to go down on all fours and suck your pussy while Patrick fucks me from behind. You must be dripping wet already from listening to us. In fact I know you are because I can smell you.”
Fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck!!! And now that is exactly the right word to use. I so wanted to agree with her, but could I? Lisa didn’t wait around for me to decide. Instead she became the teacher and started undressing me in the dark.
“Sometimes Kerry you have to go with what feels right in the moment. Don’t overthink.” She encouraged me, her hand slipping past my panties into my fiery heat.
... And so the student becomes the teacher. Full circle.
Oceana
- 05.02.2021
- 29
- 0
- Category:
- Mature
