7 comments/ 67482 views/ 26 favorites Carla Rodgers, Sex Therapist By: clive2007 This is a Valentine's Day Story. I hope you will vote. Your feedback is more than welcome. This is an incest story so the usual caution for those readers who don't like them. * It was toward the end of my 3rd hour with Ms. Carla Rodgers, my sex therapist. The first two were get-acquainted sessions, with a lot of questions about school, about me and a little bit about my history, and whether I was generally happy or not, about home life. Things like that. That was the first hour. The second hour she asked me about my sex life, girlfriends, sex habits and my general attitude about sex. All very general questions. She knew why I was there but said she wanted to find out if I was a good candidate for the type of therapy she practiced. She didn't want to waste my time or hers or my mom's money if she didn't think she could help. I should explain. I have been fucking my mother for the last several weeks but stopped recently and my mom doesn't understand why. It's driving us both crazy. I told her I still wanted to but I felt like I shouldn't. And when I tried I wasn't able to get it up. "Alan, what the hell happened? Did I do something?" "No, no, it isn't you. I don't know, mom." So she decided to send me to a sex therapist. She is a lawyer and had heard about Carla from other lawyers who use these therapists for their practices, referring clients to them, and they get feedback. She said this kind of therapist was a lot better than the traditional kind that believes in the usual deep-type psychological approach. Mom said she read recently that a lot of conventional psychologists are dropping talk therapy altogether in favor of prescribing drugs. She said it reminded her of an old joke that lobotomies were really good for psychologists who didn't like to talk to people. Mom has a quirky sense of humor. I'm in college, my second year, and I also work part time in mom's law office doing legal research for her. Prep work for my own career as I plan to study law, too. "I think it's time we got much more explicit with each other, Alan," Carla said. Mom had explained the situation to her and I had given her my version so she knew about the "problem," and her response was that this was normal, just another sexual situation to be solved. She didn't make any judgements or seem to be shocked at all. "It's time for some real therapy, the kind I specialize in, sex therapy, but we will save that for next time. For the next couple of days I want you to be especially nice to your mom. Don't feel pressured to make advances but I want you to treat her really well. Take a step back and just look at her. As if you had never seen her before. See how that works, to see her as someone you don't know as well as you think you do. Talk to her and listen to what she says. More than you usually do. Get used to her again as a person and not the woman you have been having sex with. And do you know what holiday it is getting close to? I mean, this is getting close to an ideal occasion to get you two back on track. "What day is that?" She looked at me. "Valentine's Day, of course. It's already the 7th and it's coming up on the 14th. "It's not a holiday." "OK. It's an occasion, not a holiday, but it still ranks right up there with the big holidays, at least in terms of money spent. It's the best excuse for you to get romantic with her and get that cock back in action and where it belongs. We're under some time pressure. We have to get this resolved. " "Where?" "In her pussy, Alan, where do you think? We don't have much time. I mean, this is a day you cannot afford to overlook. She will see it as a sign. Good if you do something, bad if you don't. So you can't afford not to do something." "OK. But do you think you can cure me by then?" "Well...cure...such a loaded word. But you don't have a disease. Just a temporary condition. A blockage of some kind. A blockage of desire, but it's there, just backed up. I mean, have you ever heard of Chakras?" "No." "Well, neither have I much. I think it has to do with regions of the body that control different types of energy. Something like that. Connected with eastern thought, I think. You're blocked up in the basal or root chakra that has to do with sexual function. A quick jolt should get you back to normal. Something I can provide. So we'll see, Alan, but your problem seems like something I think I can get you over in short intense sessions. This is just a glitch, a sticking point. You're like a boat that went off course and got stuck on a sandbar, and when we get you off that sandbar you two should be fine, but we have to hurry. We'll see how it goes." She closed her notebook and stood up. "Do you think this has been helpful, the preliminaries we've gone through so far?" "Yes." "Good, then I'll see you this Friday," she said as she walked me to the door. "Next time, Alan, We're going to re-float your boat." I went home and started dinner. Mom said she would be home at seven and it was already a little past five. She got home a little before seven. "What a day!" she said as she came in the door. "So good to be home, Alan." She put her arms around me and kissed me. "I need to change and take a shower. I'll be right down." She went upstairs and I got busy with the spaghetti, salad and wine. Mom came downstairs in a few minutes in her pajamas, robe and slippers and we sat at the table for our meal. She told me about a particularly bitter divorce she is working on. She is representing the husband but has more sympathy for the wife and finds herself having to fight someone who stands to get only half of what mom thinks she is entitled to. She thinks the husband is a first-class bastard but he's rich and she will get a handsome fee for saving as much of his assets for him as she can. After dinner we did the dishes together then sat down to watch some TV. I had my arm around her and she was snuggled against my side. After a couple of hours watching and a glass of wine or two for both of us, she asked for a foot massage which I was happy to provide. "How's the therapy going, darling?" "OK, so far." I was working the bottoms of her feet, alternating between them, and then started working up to her calves. "She's pretty, isn't she. Can't be over her mid-30's I would guess and she already has a terrific reputation. Do you like her?" Just the contact with mom got me upset because I thought I felt something and started to get hard but then just as suddenly it went back down. I couldn't respond. I didn't understand it. "Yes, she's fine, But, like right now, you know, when I should be wanting it, when you look so good, and nothing is happening." "It's OK, honey, give it time. No rush." "Yeah, but I know I want to. I can't figure it out." "That's why I hired Carla, honey. Cooperate with her. She will help you work it out. And if you think I can help just please let me know how. I'm here for you." "Thanks," I said. "It's just frustrating for me. Like there has been some big disconnect that happened just like that and I can't figure it out." "I know, honey. This is so new and so different. It would be odd if you didn't have to make some adjustments. I can think of a few to try on you but maybe it would be better to leave it up to a professional. Just trust her, Alan, and do what she says." "OK. I will." Shortly after that we shut everything off and went up to our bedrooms. By my door I turned to kiss her and she put her arms around my neck and pressed herself to me. I was feeling her breasts and rubbing her bottom but still nothing. It was so discouraging for me, as if I had lost contact with myself. "Sorry, mom." "It's OK, honey. Get some sleep. And if something clears up during the night, well, you know where to find me." She kissed me again. "Good night, baby." "Goodnight, mom" and I went into my room, got undressed and under the covers and fell asleep almost immediately. In a couple of days I was back in Carla's office. Mom was right about Carla being pretty. Black hair. Slim, athletic body. Nice ass. Pretty face. Nice mouth. Big tits. Everything firm and toned. A quick and intense manner about her. She seemed so sure of herself, like she was on a mission. "Alan," Carla said, sitting down and getting comfortable in her soft sofa chair. The office had a chair like that for her and one for me. We were sitting across from each other, a coffee table holding a pitcher of water, a couple of glasses and a box of Kleenex, in between. There were windows on one side wall and a cloth-upholstered couch with a hinged end quarter that could be raised, like a hospital bed, on the other. She was wearing a short lime-green skirt and matching blouse. She crossed her legs, her hose making a nice swishing sound as she did. I could see about three quarters of the way up her thigh. Her blouse relaxed around her bra, outlining her tits nicely. She settled back, smiling at me. "I need you to tell me about your first time with her." So I settled back and started talking. "The first time happened one night when we both had had some wine. It was my 19th birthday. On December 19th." I looked at Carla. "Whew! I just made it into Sagittarius. I'm glad I'm not some dull-ass Capricorn." "Skip the astrology, Alan, and Elvis was a Capricorn," Carla said. "Yeah, OK. Anyway, It's just the two of us at home as dad left with his younger secretary about six months ago and they didn't come back, except recently to pick up his stuff that mom had had boxed and waiting for him on the ground at the side of the garage, covered in a blue plastic kind of tarp. She left a couple of his best suits on top. They got soaked. Probably ruined." Carla laughed at that. "That had been a from-nowhere kind of disaster for her and she was devastated. I tried to be a good son and do things for her but she was very unhappy. It bothered me a lot." Carla shifted in her chair and crossed her legs the other way, the pantyhose making that sound again. "Your compassion sounds genuine, Alan. Go on..." "I can't figure my dad. Why would he leave her? Maybe it was something mysterious I'm too young to understand. Not enough experience. Do men get tired of a woman, any woman, after a period of time? "A lot of them do, Alan." "Does Brad Pitt still get hard at the thought of Angelina, or has fucking her turned into a chore, something he does out of duty, and they still have to put in the appearance of being in love for the movie magazines? Is he a little creeped out by the fans who think he must live in a sexual heaven just because of all the hype? And Angelina, with those collagen-stuffed lips that make it look like she can't feel anything with them, and her i-know-you're thinking-about-fucking-me look. That image stuff. I wonder if he thinks, after having seen her at her worst, or hung over, or in a bad mood, if they only knew?" "I've wondered about that, too." "I don't know, of course. Mom and dad seemed to get along fine and mom is a very good looking woman. I mean, very good looking." "I know. I've met her. But tell me how she looks to you." "She has a pretty face and a very good body with great tits." I glanced over at Carla. She had a small smile on her face. "Big, soft tits. And a tight pussy. And she loves to fuck. Loves it. Can't get enough. She's maybe 5'7". I'm not sure about weight but womanly curves, very womanly curves and no fat ass or anything like that. Mega-MILF material." Another glance at Carla. The same steady smile. I can't shock her, I realized. "And she likes men. No wonder she does so well as a lawyer. She's good in court. Good with juries. Doesn't dress like a slut but legal-sexy. Verging on sluttiness but just on the professional side of that so it impresses the men and allows them to look but not ogle like she was a stripper, and gives the women something to shoot for in the way of dress tips. She's smart too with a quick wit, and that's a little intimidating for guys who want to jump to conclusions about her. The kind of guys who think they are god's gift and that women are pushovers." "Nothing more irritating than that to a lot of women, Alan." "They watch how they act around her but they still like her because it is clear that she likes them. So long as they're not overbearing and don't come on with a lot of macho stuff she makes them feel good. Laughs at their jokes, even when they aren't especially funny. She makes sure not to embarrass them. There's something very considerate, even tender about that that I find very very attractive." "I can see why you admire her." I had my hand almost over my eyes, concentrating on the scene in my head. "So it's my birthday, and she bought some wine for the occasion but first she took us out to dinner. What a night!" "You sound like you were excited about it." "I was. I was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs when she was coming down from dressing. She wore a short black dress. It was cut low so I could see her cleavage, and a strand of pearls. She looked terrific. "Sounds hot." "It was. I was staring. She dropped her head a little but was looking at me with a shy smile, her legs not quite as together as they might have been normally, I imagined, and I thought I could see her sort of projecting her pussy out at me, but that might have been my imagination, as if she was presenting herself to me. Like a girlfriend might do. We had always been open and sort of flirty with each other from the time I was 16 or so. Dad was around so I never thought of her sexually other than just in an abstract way. Well, maybe not so abstract. You know, I would think of her when I was jacking myself. But I thought that was OK. Anyway, I knew she was hot and enjoyed staring at her but all I was doing was just getting used to looking at women. She was safe, I thought, being my mother, so looking didn't do any harm and she didn't seem to mind. " "Sounds perfectly normal to me so far, Alan." "As a matter of fact she seemed to welcome the attention and talked to me more and more as an adult. Commenting on my girlfriends, reserving the word "cute" for the ones with great figures. No coarse language. Just the gentle play of words and glances, body language. Sex play. It seemed important to her. So there I was, at the landing as she stepped down toward me, like a prom date, like she had dressed specially for me, to make herself attractive to me, like she was signaling, I hoped, a change, an evening that would be a ceremonial transformation in our relationship." Carla recrossed her legs again. Same swish sound. "You're getting a bit abstract there, Alan. Please stick to the facts." I glanced over. Same level look. No smile this time. "We had a very good dinner. We even danced. I couldn't believe I was holding her this close. She moved her body into me, relaxing and molding it against me and I could feel her breasts against my chest and her breath on my neck. I had my hand on her back, pulling her to me. I was amazed at how well we moved together, as if we had rehearsed. I couldn't help getting hard but decided to ignore it and even pressed it against her. She pressed back. "Mmm my fine young man," she said. "My handsome son." "My beautiful mom," I said to her. "My hot, hot mom." She pulled her head back, smiled at me, then kissed me on my cheek before bringing her lips back to my neck. She whispered to me, "Your body feels so good, Alan." I said to her, "Mom, yours does to. I know you can feel that I'm hard but I can't help it. I hope you don't mind. But suppose someone sees." "That was bold of you, Alan. Mentioning your erection to her. I like it." I glanced over at Carla. The smile was back. "Mom put her arm more tightly around my neck and moved even closer to me, pressing against my hard on. She said, `Suppose they do.' and we kept on dancing." Carla said, "Let's stop right here for now, Alan. You can finish telling me about the rest of the evening later. For now I want to check some things out. Are you game?" "Mom says to trust you so OK." "She's right. Now stand up, Alan." I stood up. Carla stepped toward me and began unbuttoning my shirt. "As you know, this is sex therapy, sooo, time to see you, Alan. I want to look at your body and check your responses." I could feel my cock twitch but it didn't rise up the way I thought it would, the way it always does when I am around a woman who turns me on. She squatted down. "Lift your foot, Alan." I did and she took off the shoe and sock and did the same for the other. She straightened up. "Now your pants." She unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly and pushed my pants and shorts down around my ankles. I stepped out of them. She took off my shirt and I helped take off my undershirt. I was standing naked in front of her. "You have a nice body, Alan," she said. She glanced down. "Nice cock, too." I'm not real big hard. A little over 6 but it's thick and really only gets down to about half that when I'm soft so it looks pretty good all the time. It shows promise, I guess. "I like circumcised men," she said. "Looks cleaner. More outgoing. Sort of has a face to it. Has a cute kind of turtleneck collar." "Turn around." She put her hands on my shoulders and turned me so my back was to her. She took a step back, appraising me. "Nice back, straight and strong, well muscled, tapered, well muscled and shapely legs, and your tush, Alan," She patted my buttocks. "Very nice indeed." "We're getting close to the end of this session, Alan, but we have a little more time. Turn around." She was unbuttoning her blouse. "Last time you told me about your girlfriend. The one you have been seeing the most of. Cindy, I think you said. Tell me about her." The blouse was off and she reached around for her bra clasp, unclipped it. She moved her shoulders a little and it fell to the floor. Her full breasts swayed a little as she reached around to the side of her skirt and unbuttoned and unzipped it. "Yeah, Cindy." "Have you fucked her?" The skirt was off and she was bending over to push down her panties. She kicked them off. There she was, as naked as I was, except for the thigh-high hose. I was gazing at her nipples that jutted out hard, then down to her belly and down to her pussy, hidden behind a neatly trimmed black V patch. "A couple of times but she says she would rather suck me off. She likes to do that." "You go down on her?" "Yeah, a couple of times." "Did you like that?" "Sure but it's not the same with her as it is with mom." I couldn't believe I wasn't hard. I mean, I should be standing straight up. I also couldn't believe I wasn't embarrassed. The cards were on the table, my weakness exposed. I needed Carla's help. "Come on, Alan, let's lie down." And she led me over to her padded couch. She raised the end leaf so it was at about a 30 degree angle and lay down, patting the space beside her. I got on couch and stretched out, facing her. "You are free to touch me, Alan, wherever you like. Of course I'm free to do the same with you as well." She reached out to my cock, fondling it, lifting my balls, lightly stroking the shaft. "Tell me more about Cindy." I stretched down into the couch some more and moved closer to her. I reached out for her shoulder and then touched her forehead and cheek and neck and shoulder and then her breast, cupping it, then down her side to her hip and then her pussy. "Mmmm feels good Alan. You have a nice touch." "About Cindy... I couldn't tell her, or explain anything. I couldn't even get it up for her. The last time she wanted to suck it and looked at me as if I was crazy when I said I didn't want her to do that anymore. I could just see her if I told her I was feeling bad about fucking my mother, and watching the blood drain from her face, as if I had pulled a plug." Carla Rodgers, Sex Therapist "Yes, don't tell her or anyone else that, Alan. It's frowned upon...Do you like my body, Alan?" "Yes, it's beautiful." "I like playing with your cock. I want to see if I can get it hard." She started stroking it and opened her legs so I could cup her pussy. Slowly, so slowly I started to get hard. "Excellent, I think we're making progress, Alan. Would you like to kiss me?" "Yes." "Then do." I leaned over to kiss her. Her mouth was open and her full lips covered mine in a soft long kiss, the tips of our tongues touching lightly. She was stroking my cock harder and it was responding, almost hard. "Let me lie on my back, Alan." I moved so she could. "Now straddle me and move up, so your cock is between my boobs." I did. Then she reached out and began stroking it harder, pulling it down to her breasts. "Want to fuck my titties, Alan?" "Yes ma'am" "So formal. I like it, Alan. Now I want you to fuck my titties for a while until you are well on your way. You'll know when you're close." "Yes, I'll know." She pushed her soft breasts around my cock. I held on to the edges of the raised leaf and I started fucking her tits, almost reaching her chin on the up-stroke. Her silken soft flesh made me harder than I've been in weeks. "I like the expression on your face, Alan, I think you are enjoying this." "I'm getting close, Carla" "OK honey. Now grab your cock and jerk yourself off on me. I want you to cum on me. Let her go. My face, titties, all over, Spunk on me, Alan." I was caught up in the moment. I straightened up and jerked myself with abandon until I felt my cum rising and I was on my way, on my way, and I could feel it rushing until it broke out and I squirted on her face and breasts, spurt after spurt, and the pleasure was so incredibly intense. I was groaning and gasping and my buttocks were flexing and thrusting forward on their own with each spurt. I didn't want to stop stroking so I just kept it up until I was completely spent. "Oh wow, Alan, I'm impressed," she said. "That was nice." She had a kleenex to wipe the cum from her face and her breasts. I sank down beside her. She shifted to face me and kissed me, moving her body against mine. "Just lie here for a little while, Alan." "What about all the cum?" "Don't worry about that. I got most of it and it's sort of like lotion for me. Good for the skin, I think." She was stroking my back and legs. "I think we are done for the day but we are making excellent progress, Alan, and next time I want you to finish the story of your first time with your mom. Are you OK with that?" "OK. I'll think some more and make sure I have it right. The details, and all." We stayed that way for a minute or so, just looking at each other and touching. Then she said, "Let's get dressed, Alan." So we got up and I got dressed. She went to a coat closet and got a robe and put that on. At the door she kissed me. "That was lovely. Next time will be even better. That will be Tuesday. THE DAY, Alan. Same time?" "See you then. Thanks, Carla." "You're welcome, Alan. See you soon." She closed the door and I floated down the hall, down the stairs and to my car, relaxed and sure I was going to be OK. That evening with mom was quiet and nice. I felt better, thinking I will get over this and be back with her so I was more affectionate. She was a little tentative, not wanting to spook me or be demanding. I was taking Carla's advice. Just looking at mom as a new person. Listening to her. We had finished dinner and were watching TV again, this time a legal drama and something about the plot reminded her of her lousy client. She started telling me some details of his sex habits. "This is all confidential, Alan, so don't say anything." She told me about his practices that he inflicted on her client, things she described as "personal indignities," but just made him sound to me like a kinky fucker. "I'm so confident if we get past this we will be fine. I don't want you to be like that man. Alan, that would be a horrible mistake. Be a generous lover. It will make your own pleasure better. Trust me." "We're going to get past it, mom, Carla says she can already see a way. And sooner rather than later." I was getting hard. Mom felt it. "Green shoots," she said, smiling. I laughed. "I'm going to fuck you again, mom. I promise." "I know you will, baby. I can hardly wait." We sat and watched some more TV, sitting on the couch. She had her hand over my cock and I had my hand on her breast. Gradually her hand went under my shorts until she was holding it, stroking and squeezing it and I had moved my hand under her blouse and was cupping her breast. After the news we went upstairs to bed and at my bedroom door she kissed me. "That was nice, Alan. Sitting with you, watching TV together like that. Same message, honey. If you change your mind please come to my bed." "I will, mom. I'm just not quite there, yet. "Don't worry or rush it, that's OK. You know where to find me. Good night, Alan." I went into my room and got undressed. Again I was asleep almost as soon as I was under the covers. On the 14th I went to Carla's office. She met me in the reception room and we walked down the corridor to her office. Today it was black slacks and a black sweater. She sure looked good in those slacks, the fabric hugging her ass, clinging to it like it was painted on, her runner's cheeks shifting from side to side as we walked. "So, Alan," she said, once we were in her office. She shut the door and locked it, turning around to face me, her back against the door. "How has it gone since last time? Any changes?" I told her about what I thought was my progress and mom's eagerness to resume. "Carla, I think I'm almost there. Almost. But I need a change in I'm not sure what. Not a mood, not an attitude. Not desire. Nothing like those. Sort of like a change in mental climate is the best way I can think to describe it. A change in that." "I know just what you are talking about, Alan," she said as she walked over to me and put her arms around my neck. "That Chakra I mentioned the other day. Well, today I want you to fuck me, Alan. Full frontal therapy, I call it. We've got to release that energy. You up for that?" She pressed herself against me, her pussy against my pants, rubbing side to side and pressing her breasts against me. "What if I can't get it up?" "Shhh. Why don't you take my clothes off?" So I took off her sweater and pushed her slacks down. She had kicked off her heels to help me and there she was in bra and panties. "Now your turn." I got rid of my shirt, undershirt and pants, shoes and socks, until I was standing there in my shorts, sporting half a hard-on. She reached around to unclip her bra, letting it fall, then pushed her panties down. She gave my shorts a hard tug, pulling them down to my knees and then pushed them down the rest of the way with her foot. I stepped out of them. She stepped up to me and hugged me. Her hands seemed to be moving all over me--on my back and sides, and my cock that now was almost completely hard. "Let's go lie down, honey," she said,. We walked over to the couch and lay down. This time the leaf was flat. "Now tell me about what happened after the restaurant." "We went home. I could feel the tension between us. We were talking about this and that but it was just nervous chatter. I thought we both felt it. She told me later she felt the same way. We had had quite a lot of wine at the restaurant and when we got home we had some more. I wasn't drunk but the inhibitions were off, you know? And they were for her, too. We opened another bottle in the kitchen and she poured ourselves a glass and then we went into the living room and she asked me to dance some more. She said to me, "It was so wonderful at the club, Alan, and now here we are alone at home." Carla leaned closer to kiss me. "This sounds so hot, Alan. I mean it must have been a little frightening for you when there was clearly no obstacle for you. She was saying yes, yes, I want to." "It was, and I was just in the scene, you know? Like the current in a river, just flowing and carrying me along." "And you liked the ride." "I sure did. And then I was kissing her and touching her breasts and pulling her bottom against me. No resistance from her. None. I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out.." Mom asked, "Right here?" "I didn't answer, just pushed her to the wall. Her arms were around my neck. I reached under her dress and pulled her panties to one side and got my cock at her opening. Then pushed in. I pulled her against me and she wrapped her legs around me and I fucked her right there, against the wall, fucking her really hard and fast and as deep as I could, and she was saying 'O honey, yes.' I can't remember if I was saying anything to her or not or if she was saying anything. I just can't remember." "Of course you couldn't remember...you were caught up in the moment." "All I could think of was the feel of her body and her pussy holding me and being aware of her passion. I just sort of exploded into her, the hardest I can remember, not slowing down but I wasn't satisfied so I let her down and pulled her after me up the stairs to her room and almost tore her clothes off and mine too and we were on the bed. I was still hard and I got my cock into her again as soon as I could and fucked her as hard as I could. We were fucking each other furiously all night long." "Such a passionate lover, Alan." "She was having orgasms over and over, saying `yes yes Alan' and moaning as her pleasure overcame her. It was something. And that went on for weeks with no let up. Every day. Very intense until suddenly I stopped. I don't know why. I just couldn't anymore." Carla got up and began walking back and forth. "This is remarkable, Alan...God, sometimes I wish I hadn't stopped smoking... Let me explain something to you. When I wanted you to titty fuck me what I wanted, in addition to liking having a man do that, was to get you to be public, not in darkness or shadow, but right there where I could see you. I wanted to see you erect and hot and out of control, see the expression on your face when your orgasm swept over you and you came. There you were, exposed. I think that is what you are now afraid of with your mom. Being what you imagine. Letting her see the real you, this primal thing, this fucking machine, this creature consumed with lust. The way you are in your imagination when you are jacking yourself and thinking of her and you are afraid she shouldn't see you like that." "I would have been mortified if she had walked in on me." Her hands were shaping her ideas in front of her as she was walking back and forth. "And the other thing is, Alan, I think what's happened is that suddenly you got to fulfill a fantasy that night. You got to fuck your mom, something you had been dreaming about. But you don't think you should have and you also think it is not quite real yet. You are unconvinced that you are man enough to make this a real and actual state of affairs between the two of you. I don't think it is something you don't want. I think you have doubts that this could be a permanent state of affairs. That you can function as her steady lover. Someone who gets to fuck her whenever you want, which is all the time, and you don't think you should because she is your mom." "I don't understand how I can think both things at once." "We have to get you over this transitional crossing of the river where you are now-- this crossing from kid-dom where you say your fantasies shouldn't really be happening and they aren't really real-- safely to the other side, to the welcoming shore in the land of adult, active male sexuality, but grounded in reality, the land where you lead with your cock, with that real member, that very assertive, very real thing you have between your legs." I'm not sure I understood all that but boy she looked good, animated like that, and her full tits swaying as she was striding back and forth. The line going from the top of her shoulders down her back to the lovely curve of her bottom and down her legs looked like something an artist would draw. And I liked the up-front way she talked. I mean, you don't usually hear a woman talking this casually about pussy and cocks and fucking. You just don't. Not even in my crowd of college guys. "You are a 19 year old kid, if you don't mind the expression. All young men have to make this transition. I'm here to speed up a process that might take years if you just go at a normal rate with fits and starts, wrecked relationships, disastrous one-night stands. And you have this wonderful, beckoning partner to help you, whom you trust and love and just happens to be your mom. Do you see what I'm getting at, Alan?" Looking at her pretty pussy, her dark patch, that garden of earthly delights, I was starting to get hard. "You also have to get over all the crap that's been put in your head by this stupid society about sex. They get upset about everything, they get upset with teens fucking teens, with older people fucking as if that is somehow also inappropriate, with older men having sex with young women. Or the other way around. `She's young enough to be his daughter.' So what? They are adults, they can do what they want. Who cares? Why should anyone care? It just drives me nuts. And then the mom/son thing. Awful. Why? If both are adults and they want to, why not? They are robbing you. Get comfortable with your animal nature, Alan. Do that first. You love your mom. Fine. You also like fucking her. That's fine too. We just have to get past your feeling bad about it. Just because she's your mom. This therapy is to encourage you to express your sexuality in front of other people, namely me. To be open with me. That is why I wanted you to jerk yourself in front of me. See? You exposed yourself in front of me, your secret passions, and they weren't mocked or rejected. It was liberating, wasn't it? "Yes, it was," "Why do you feel so guilty about your sexuality. It's your great gift to yourself and women. So why withhold your favors. Isn't that selfish?" "You make it sound like I would be some kind of bad son or be going against my nature if I don't go back to fucking her." "That is exactly what I'm saying. I want you to realize that you want to, and then, yes, I want you to go back to fucking her. I don't want you to be a bad son to your mom who is trying to help you. And she wants to get laid herself, of course." Carla was walking back and forth even faster. "You just have to realize that you are doing so much more than acting out a fantasy. That's why you feel bad. Like you are being dishonest to be doing something that was supposed to be confined to dreaming about and jerking off to. Well, it is ok to want to do it and you have done it. As a matter of fact. Something that it is more than OK to do and has happened. Once you process that you will be fine. Launched as an adult." I was beginning to see what she was talking about. "So don't let fear cause you to withhold yourself from granting the pleasure that it is in your power to bestow on others. You're in a want-to--can't-do-it-want-to-can't-do-it loop. Just realize that, Alan. The `want to' is what you want. The `can't do it' is what society says. So we have to break that loop." Alright, I thought. Maybe I can do this. She came back over to me on the couch and lay down next to me. "You just need to think about this from a different point of view. There's nothing wrong with you. It's just an inner hitch we need to straighten out and that's what we are doing. We're going to fix that. And I thought your story was wonderful, Alan. I love your mom." By now I was completely hard. Carla had reached down and was stroking my cock. "Put that thing in me, Alan. Get real with me, honey." I rolled her on her back and put my cock in her, not gently, but thrust into her and began fucking. "Oh Yes! So nice, Alan. Do it to me." I was fucking her in long slow strokes. "Show me what you have learned. Show me what you want to do to your mom." I started to stroke harder, concentrating on her wet sheath holding and caressing my cock as I plunged in and out of her. "O god, yes, Alan, show me how you are going to act..." I was slamming my cock into her, hearing the slap slap sound of our bellies as she rose to meet my thrusts. "once you get back..." I was kissing her mouth, then her neck. "in her saddle..." I reached down to squeeze her tits, pulling her nipples, "how you are going to give her..." I slipped one hand down to her butt. "the hot fucking..." I pushed my middle finger in her small hole. she deserves." I was ramming her pussy as hard as I could and fucking her butt with my finger, pushing it in all the way. "Ohh yes, Alan...O my god..." She was rubbing my back and bottom, pulling me into her with each thrust. "Take your pleasure, baby." I could feel my orgasm building. "Gonna cum, Carla..." "Let me have it, honey." "Here it comes..." "That's it....that's it...so close..." "I'm gonna cum, Carla..." "Shoot, baby!" And I did, pumping shot after shot in her hot wet pussy and at the same time I heard a moan rise, coming from deep inside her, growing louder and louder and then her hands spasming on my back and her whole body shuddering as she reached her climax. "Oooooooo, Alan..." She was lifting her hips off the couch, moving them back and forth, her pussy holding on to my cock, milking it. "Wow," she said. "Carla!" I said. I lay on top of her for a minute, both of us resting, and then I moved off so we were side by side. "Did I cum hard or what...You've got it, Alan. Real, hard talent, awesome potential, and you are going to realize it with your mom." "I'm glad you think so. I really am. You've helped me a lot." I meant that completely. I didn't feel shy anymore with Carla and knew that I could transfer that to mom. Tonight. She laughed. "I'd like to reinforce this with another round but I want you to save some for you mom, Alan, because tonight's the night for you two." "I think I'm ready." "I think so too. Let's get dressed." We made a follow up appointment for the 17th but I knew that would just be a reporting session. Her sex therapy with me was done and I was looking forward to telling her about how mom and I were back together. I stopped at the market deli and got a lasagna, garlic bread, some wine and went home. Mom got home at seven, this time carrying her briefcase. She set it down outside the closet, took off her coat and came into the kitchen. She looked harried. She kissed me. "Sorry to bring work home, Alan, but this case...it's driving me crazy. Let me freshen up." She went upstairs to change and shower. The lasagna was in the oven and would be ready in 45 minutes. At the sound of her voice I felt my cock twitch and start to rise. I had changed to sweat pants and no underwear. And a sweatshirt, no t-shirt. I felt a sexual storm stirring, gathering itself at my center. I felt calm. Assured. Anxious for her to come downstairs. I poured her a double shot of bourbon straight. I didn't need anything myself. I heard her bedroom door close and then the sound of her feet coming downstairs. There she was, looking refreshed, in her pajamas, robe and slippers. I thought I could see her breasts move as she walked over to me. I hoped that meant no bra. I took her in my arms and kissed her. She melted into me and I could feel my cock on the rise. "I thought you might like a drink. Something to relax." "Thanks, honey." She took it and drained the glass in two long gulps, then shivered and stomped her feet. "O yes. That's what I needed. Thanks. What are we having?" Carla Rodgers, Sex Therapist "Lasagna, garlic bread, salad and wine." "Sounds wonderful." "Ready in forty minutes." I took the glass from her hand and put it on the counter. Then I put my hands on her hips and pulled her to me, my now hard cock rubbing against her front. "So how did your day go, honey?" "Fine." I kissed her, moving my hands down to her bottom, pulling her to me. "Aren't you going to have a drink or some wine?" "Not thirsty," I said and started to move us both into the family room, kissing her neck and rubbing her back. "Did you have a session today?" "Yes." My hands untied her robe and pulled it open. Then up inside her pajama top to, yes, her bare breasts, their soft fullness filling my hands. "So I guess it went well?" "Sure did, mom." I was kneading her beautiful tits, thumb and fingers on her hard nipples. We were in the family room. I had turned on the propane fireplace when I got home and the room was toasty warm. I undid the buttons on her pajama top. "She is a very effective therapist, just like you said, mom." "I'm so pleased you are making progress, Alan," she said as I took off her robe and fumbled with the drawstring on her pajama bottoms. "She says I am doing much better." I took off my sweatshirt, flipping it on the rug, not taking my eyes off her. "You look beautiful, mom, beautiful." "O darling, I'm so happy. But you know you can go slow. No need to rush." I took off her pajama top and tossed it over by my sweatshirt. "I agree. No need to rush this. Your tits look beautiful, mom." I pulled at the waist band of her pajamas so I could just push them down along with her panties. I bent down to lift each foot to take off her slippers and the bottoms. "Maybe we should have some wine or something." "Yes I suppose we should." I took off my sweat pants and my cock had not let me down. It sprang up, hard and ready. "Honey, I don't want us to go too fast, you know. Sometimes these things take time." I pushed down on her shoulders and she sank down to the carpet. We were in front of the fireplace. I took my cock and rubbed it around her face, over her forehead, down each cheek, across her mouth, then got down on the carpet myself. "I appreciate your being patient with me, mom. Carla said we should take our time with this." "Oh yes, I mean I have been going crazy thinking we did the wrong thing. That I have hurt my son whom I love more than anything." I had opened her legs and got in between them. I was resting on my elbows at her sides, my cockhead nestling in her patch. I kissed her. "Yes, mom, I love you too and Carla and I also agree that we have to take this very, very slowly." "Yes I'm so glad she is there for you, honey." Her breathing had become much more rapid, her voice trembling. "I'm so glad she is counseling caution, patience and prudence." I was rubbing my cockhead up and down at her opening and could feel her wetness. I pushed in slowly, feeling my cock sinking into her warm pussy. How I had missed this! Her walls held my cock like it was molded to it, like it had adjusted and was grabbing every tiny millimeter of it. "Yes, yes, caution, patience and prudence. Our watchwords from now on, mom." I reached back with both hands and pulled her legs up until I could hook them in my arms and raised them. I was fully inside her now and began to push in and out, in and out. "O god, Alan, it feels so good!" "I need you so bad, mom!" "Yes, yes I need you too, baby." "I'm fucking you again. I'm back, mom." "Yes, yes I'm so happy, darling!" "Can you forgive me?" "Yes, of course. Just keep fucking me, honey." "We owe this to Carla!" "She is a genius!" I was kissing her neck and her ear. Licking inside her ear with my tongue. My hands were on her breasts, sides, back, up and down. Kissing her mouth, our tongues playing, "O my god, Alan, I'm going to cum soon. I love this so much." She was raising her hips up to meet me. I was moving in circles around her belly and her clit, stroking it with my front. "Alan! Oooo!" she cried, shuddering as her climax bloomed inside her and overflowed all over her body. I kept stroking, slowing down a little then picking up the pace again until she cried, "Alan, I'm cumming again," and again she moaned and held me to her as tightly as she could, and I kept stroking her in and out, until her breathing slowed and I slowed down again until she had relaxed just a little then picked up again until I rode her up to another climax, this time she was almost crying, scratching my back, her body writhing under mine, and I slowed down again, keeping a steady stroking pace, in and out, kissing her body with mine, until she said "Cum for me darling, I want to feel you do me, I want your seed inside me. Please baby," so I picked up the pace until I was fucking with my whole soul and I felt it rising in me until I couldn't stop it and I gushed inside her and moaned on her shoulder, and she had her hands on my back and sides, saying "yes baby, yes baby, cum in me, make me happy, baby..." "Mom, mom, that was so wonderful. I'm so happy." "My darling, you have come back to me. I'm so happy too." I moved to her side and we lay that way without talking, just being together, our hands moving over our bodies, just barely touching. After a few minutes I got up to get some cushions from the couch and brought them back to her, went into the powder room in the hall to get some towels, then back to the kitchen and got a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses, checked on the lasagna--10 more minutes-then joined her back at the fireplace. We were laying back on the cushions, sipping our wine, watching the flames, talking about her day, my day, until the timer rang. We got up. She put on her robe and I went upstairs to get a robe for myself. When I came down she had the lasagna served at the table and we ate. The food was wonderful. She talked some more about her hard case and I talked some about school. We didn't mention Carla again that night. Her work was complete. When we had eaten we ran water on the dishes, turned the lights down with the dimmer and went back to our spot by the fire. I took her in my arms and we made love again, and once more until it was getting late and we got up to go to bed. We didn't pause by my room but went straight to hers. Once in her bed I took her in my arms. "I almost forgot. Today. It's Valentine's Day." She laughed. "I know. I'm so glad you remembered. You have made this a magical day for me, Alan." "For me too, mom. I'm free now. Here for you." I reached down to just barely touch her patch, just tracing its outline. "It's trimmed like a V." "I'll keep it that way for you, honey." "Yes. Please do." We were quiet for a while, listening to our breathing, starting to get drowsy. "I'm off the sandbar, mom," I said. "What, honey?" "Nothing." I pulled her to me and we closed our eyes, drifting off together, and slept the sleep of the saved.