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“Yeah,” she confirms with a slow nod, biting her glossy bottom lip. “Can I bum a smoke?”
“Sure.” I search through my pockets and offer her one.
As she places the Marlboro between her lips, she waits for me to offer her a light. I try not to recoil when she leers forward, pursing her lips like a fish while I light it. My horny libido tells my stupid brain that this blonde bimbo is exactly what I need to forget all about my encounter with the brown-haired beauty. They are exact opposites, and that’s what I need. This is what I do best.
“So sweetheart. How long a break you got?”
She bats her fake eyelashes and smirks. “Fifteen minutes.”
Bending down to meet her short frame, I whisper, “I’ll make it the best fifteen minutes of your life.”
And that’s all the miles I have to put in as she flicks her cigarette to the ground with a sly grin. Reaching for the scruff of my shirt collar, she leads me around the corner and I make good on my promise.
It may be the best fifteen minutes of her life, but it’s the worst fifteen minutes of mine.
Nobody likes Mondays—especially when you’ve had a shitty weekend. After jacking off in the shower—twice—you’d think my mood would have improved.
My weekend was strange. After hooking up with the blonde on Friday night, I went home alone, which is no surprise, but oddly enough I was kind of disappointed. My number one cardinal rule is never, ever bring anyone home. My home is my sanctuary, it’s the one place where I can truly be myself, and I refuse to pollute that purity with my whoring ways. Also, I still see my home asours. Lily is still ingrained into every crevice, and I can’t bring myself to taint the happy memories we once shared there.
But Friday night, I found myself wondering what it would be like to actually bring home a chick and fuck her in my bed, as opposed to screwing her up against a brick wall.
I’m a psychiatrist, so I know how the human mind works—most of the time. My need for comfort was triggered by the lovely Madison. Her innocence sung to me, and I haven’t felt that way for a long while. As brief as our encounter was, there wassomethingthere. Too bad I was too gutless to find out what thatsomethingwas.
I felt fucking disgusting after consorting with the blonde, so for the rest of the weekend, I kept my nose clean and out of random chicks’ crotches. It was fairly boring on all accounts, but I feel somewhat unpolluted after my sexual abstinence for two whole days. That’s a long time for someone who uses sex as his shield.
“Dr. Mathews, your twelve-thirty appointment is here,” Ms. Vale says through the intercom on my phone.
Her singsong voice jars me out of my rut, and I clear my voice before replying, “Send her in.”
Pulling up my new patient information sheet on my laptop, I begin entering Ms. Juliet Harte’s details into my computer.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Address: 18 Union Square West, New York
Problem: Sex Addiction
Oh, boy.
“Dr. Mathews?” asks a soft, velvety voice, which has my dick standing in direct salute.
Raising my eyes from the screen, I see that Ms. Juliet Harte is complete perfection wrapped in pure sin.
Her long blonde hair is wrapped into a twist, and strands fall around her face, drawing attention to her “come fuck me” blue eyes. The sexiest lips I have ever seen are coated in a clear gloss,and images of what those lips could do to me have me subtly rearranging myself in my seat.
My newfound celibacy has just mentally motorboated Juliet’s perfect breasts. However, putting my game face on, I give her a small smile and gesture to the leather chair in front of my desk. “Please take a seat.”
She nods and saunters over, making sure to straighten out her cream tunic dress before taking a graceful seat.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Harte,” I say with a nod, getting the formalities out of the way.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Mathews,” she replies, her eyes focusing intently on me.
I see no fear or apprehension behind her poised gaze, and her self-confidence is an absolute turn-on. But I have a job to do.
“So today, we’ll mainly be discussing your history. Think of this as ‘a getting to know you’ session. In order to properly evaluate you, I need you to trust me. In no way will you be judged or condemned for your thoughts. No matter how perverse or wrong your thoughts may be, I need you to be totally honest with me. Do you think you can do that?” I ask with a smile.
