The Therapist (bondage, restriction, consensual sex)

W's sex story
The room is dark and hazy. I’m hanging, my wrists tied to a chain of some sort above me. Someone is fucking me. My vision is coming into focus. I see a black man grinning at me. My legs are wrapped around his waist; he’s holding me up by my ass and is making me cum.



I don’t remember anything from the last hour. I have no idea how I got here. All I know is my pussy is numb, dripping with juices.

The orgasm washes over me and the black man leaves. Another takes his place. He grabs my legs, pulls them around his waist and has his turn. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know I don’t want it to end.

It doesn’t. It goes on for hours. I don’t know what time it is; if it’s morning or night. Black man after black man take me as I hang here. Every one of them brings me to powerful orgasms. My body feels like jelly.

Then I see someone I recognize. I know his name. The memories temporarily become clearer. I remember flashing, color lights, loud music, people, drinks and him - Fat Rob.

He stands in front of me, pulls me up like the others did and slides his fat cock in me. I cry out, moaning, looking to the ceiling. All I see is a single bright light above me. His cock feels so good, so thick and big.

“Your husband is going to know we stretched out that pussy of yours, Miss Brandi,” Fat Rob tells me, pumping his hips upward.

“What?” I ask. I look to my left hand above me, I see my wedding ring. I could’ve sworn Leanna, my daughter told me to take it off. More memories return.

She did tell me to remove it. She said I needed this night, she said I deserve it.

Another orgasm courses through me. Fat Rob doesn’t stop. He keeps going, keeps bouncing me. I love this feeling, feeling helpless, hanging there, my wrists tied. I can hear the chain rattling as I go up and down on Fat Rob’s cock.

“I bet he can’t please you like this,” Fat Rob says, still taking me.

I shake my head. Did Leanna know this would happen? Did she know I’d be here with this man?

More memories return. I see my daughter, tall, red hair smiling at me, leading me somewhere. To a building. I see her smiling face after she whispers in my ear to relax and have fun. We were at a club, that’s what led me here – a stupid night club.

Images of her laughing, talking, dancing with men, pointing in my direction, waving me over. My husband, Doug, I see his face next. Was Leanna trying to get me to cheat on Doug tonight?

Fat Rob slaps my ass, grits his teeth, and cums inside me. It feels so good. His huge load of warm semen fills me up. He steps away smiles, laughing, “That’s a good pussy, Miss Brandi. How old did you say you were?”

I can’t remember. I can’t even remember my age. “F-forty,” I struggle to talk. “Something.”

Fat Rob nods and unchains me. My arms don’t hurt, neither do my wrists. My body is mush in his arms. He carries me to a bed. I don’t see Leanna anywhere.

Fat Rob kisses my left hand, “That’s a nice diamond your husband got you. How long you two been married?”

I can’t answer, I can barely talk. “Six years,” I’m able to get out, answering his question about my marriage to Leanna’s stepfather, Doug.

“Mmmm,” he guides my hand to his weakened cock. I instinctively grab it, squeeze it, my wedding ring seems to shine brightly against his dark brown shaft.

The next thing I know, the room dims, darker and darker before going pitch black. My jumbled memories return as I try to piece this night together.


-1-
A couple months ago, November, I was waiting for someone. I was sitting in my office waiting for him to arrive. I’m a counselor, some may call me a shrink, but I’m not a psychiatrist. I can’t prescribe medication; I don’t have a doctorate. Therapist is an acceptable term for my profession I suppose.

He was a new patient. He was running late that day.

I remember fiddling with my wedding ring, thinking of Doug, thinking of his smile. Doug, Leanna and I moved to Atlanta a year prior to be closer to Doug’s family. Truthfully, I hated the move, but agreed to it. Work is certainly more active, compared to Charleston. I rarely have any downtime like I did there.

I sighed and thought about cancelling, but I figured I’d give this guy a few more minutes to arrive.

I stood, straightened out my business suit, and looked out the window. I watched the rain fall, covering the parking lot, the cars in the distance were locked in their usual stop-go traffic.

There was a knock at the door, without thinking I said “come in” still watching the rain. I remember Doug and I had sex outside last year in the rain once. It was summer time though.

“Hello?” the voice spoke up behind me, shaking me from my trance.

I turned around and saw him. My mouth nearly dropped open. I was looking at the most attractive man I had ever seen.

“Um, hi, hello, come in,” I stammered. I cleared my throat, approached him, extending my hand. I introduced myself as Brandi.
He shook it softly, smiling back at me. With my high heels on, I was his height, around 5’10” or so.

“Hi, I’m Ulysses. Nice to meet you,” he nodded, looking around the office for a chair.

I watched him, Doug temporarily leaving my thoughts. Ulysses was very muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, and cargo pants. The rain had an effect on his skin – his dark-chocolate skin, making it glisten. He wiped his forehead of rain.

“Oh, um, sorry, yes, feel free to sit there or the couch. Whatever is comfortable,” I spoke up.

With my pen and paper, I took a seat across from him. He chose the chair.

He was nervous, most first timers are. I was nervous too, but not about meeting a new patient. He was having that effect on me.

“So, Ulysses, what can I do for you?”

“Well, um, not sure where to begin. I guess I’m just having issues when it comes to a certain aspect of my life,” Ulysses answered.

“Ok, well I’ll do my best to provide guidance.”

“Yeah, well, it’s,” he paused. I could see the nerves.

“You can tell me. Are you having stress or anxiety issues? Problems coping with work, problems adjusting to changes in life?” I asked, staring into his eyes, avoiding his biceps and chests.

“It’s sex,” he blurted out, quickly feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, I see,” my mind initially thought of performance issues. I’ve counseled a few folks that had anxieties and other issues that affected their sex life negatively.

“No, not performance problems. I just um,” he read my mind and paused again.

Thinking about past patients, I pressed him further. “Sexual orientation issues? Maybe another type of dysfunction?”

Ulysses shook his head. “No,” he took a deep breath. “Sex is my life. Everything about life revolves around it. I can’t get away from it and everything ends up in sex.”

I hoped I wasn’t blushing. My eyes darted quickly to his muscular frame, then to his dreads pulled back into a ponytail, finally, embarrassingly, I glanced to his crotch.

“I see,” I collected my thoughts, jotting this down on my notepad. “So you feel you may have some sort of addiction to sex?”

“No. I don’t. That’s the thing. I’m not addicted. The thought of going weeks or months without it, yeah I guess it’d suck, but I’d be fine. I wouldn’t have withdrawals.”

“Ok, so no addiction. Can you explain what you mean by sex being your life?”

“Yeah,” Ulysses glanced behind me to the rain outside. “No matter what I do, who I meet, where I go, sex is always involved. Sometimes it’s strangers, sometimes not, but it never fails. I go out of town for work, girl at the hotel front desk. I fly out of the country for work, the flight attendant on the plane. I want to go catch a movie alone late one night, the college student that works there. I even offered to help do yard work for an older woman I know, and well, like everything else, it ended up with sex.”

“So they initiate?”

“Yes, always.”

“Why is this bothering you?”

“Because, sometimes I feel like that’s all I do or am. There’s more to life. I tried finding it. I’d go on vacations alone, I’d always meet a woman.”

“Have you thought about simply saying no or choosing not to allow the sex to happen?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ve thought of that. But these women, were so beautiful,” Ulysses answered. Then he said something that made me inhale sharply, hoping he didn’t hear me.

“All these beautiful women, white women, I just,” Ulysses sighed, shaking his head.

“White women?” I asked, my heart rate increasing.

“Yes. A few Latina as well, but most all have been white. I don’t know if it’s because I’m black or what. But I want to say no, I want to not feel like a piece of meat, but there’s just something so beautiful about them,” Ulysses said, eyes to the floor.

I didn’t know where to go from here. I went the standard, typical route. I started with his childhood.


-2-

This room is burning hot now. I’m on all fours, I’m being whipped by Fat Rob. The walls look like they’re on fire. Am I in Hell? Is this demon, Fat Rob, going to give me what I need?

He tosses this whip aside and penetrates me again, slamming his hips into my ass. I glance to my wedding ring.

“Doug,” I whisper, unable to apologize before another orgasm comes over me.

Fat Rob grabs my dirty-blonde locks, pulling my head back as he fills me yet again with his seed.

He slams me down on the bed, the fiery effect of the walls subsides, I black out again, thinking of the first day I met Ulysses.

*

“My father remarried when I was 12 or so. Her name is Devin. She was a younger, white woman, blonde,” Ulysses smiled.

“You used present tense when you told me her name.”

“Yes, we’re still a part of each other’s life. Even since their divorce a few years ago.”

I made a note and nodded for him to continue.

“She was, is, wonderful. She helped raise me. But because she’s only 9 or 10 years older than me, we hung out a lot. We’d go to movies; she’d take me to sporting events while my dad worked. She was a great friend. Then I got older.”

“That’s when things became more intimate?”

“Yes. It was consensual. There was no rape, she didn’t sexually abuse me. But she gave herself to me. She taught me everything about sex. I was young and foolish, maybe I had a crush on her, maybe I loved her – I don’t know. But it was incredible. Our secret affair.”

Ulysses chuckled thinking of a memory.

“What?” I asked.

“For my high school graduation present, she threw me a surprise party. My dad wasn’t around – he worked a lot anyway. At the party, I was the only guy from my school there. I have no idea how she arranged it, how Devin pulled it off, but she invited every single girl in my high school graduating class to this party. Cheerleaders, volleyball, basketball players, even some girls that were considered ‘nerds’ or ‘geeks’.”

“Ok,” I knew where this was headed. “What about this party made you chuckle?”

Ulysses’ face went serious. “About 100 girls showed up. 50 or so didn’t. As I said, Devin invited all of them. Of the ones that showed up, they were white. There was a line out of our house, going to the sidewalk and down the street. All these girls,” Ulysses paused.

“It’s ok,” I smiled gently at him. “You can tell me. I’m here to understand and help.”

“They all, um, rode me until they climaxed. The first girl would go, she’d get off me, then next and so on until all 100 girls orgasmed.”

I nodded my head, the visual sinking in, the imagery of 100 18-year-old white girls in a line riding this man’s black cock – I shook my head, I didn’t want these thoughts there.

“I see, so that was her present to you. Sex.”

“Yes. Afterward, they all left, hugging me bye, saying good luck at college, and so on, Devin and I remained. We made love in my room. I didn’t finish with those girls, but I did finish in her.”

I took notes and paused, “Do you love Devin?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Yet you have sex with other women?”

“Her and I aren’t technically a couple. I sorta view her as a mother figure. She’s like the mom I never had and loves me in every way. I guess our relationship is open, unconditional.”

Curiosity was getting the best of me, “So you have sex with other women, most are white. Is this a daily event?”

“Yes. If it’s not Devin, it’s three or four other regulars I suppose.”

Thoughts of several white woman leaving and arriving to his home to have sex with him daily flashed in my head. I looked at his arms, thighs – wow. I had to focus, I needed to be professional. I glanced to my notepad and wedding ring.

“Have you considered making things exclusive with Devin? Perhaps even marrying her? I take it your father isn’t around or knows about you and his ex-wife, your former step-mother?”

“No, he lives in LA and doesn’t know her and I are like this. And no, it wasn’t the cause of their divorce. He was caught several times cheating, and since Devin and I were a thing, she went ahead and divorced him.”

I checked the time, it was nearing the end of his first session. We chatted a little more about Devin, how much she means to him, how much they care for one another.

“Ulysses, I want you to really show her how much you love her. It sounds like it’s a lot. I know you have an open relationship with her, but maybe go somewhere or do something that’s just you and her. Doesn’t have to be sex, could be dinner, movies, hiking, something that isn’t sexual. Maybe even suggest you and her become exclusive. From talking with you about her, it sounds like she loves you like a son and a lover. That’s up to you though. Mainly, spend extra time with her and her only, not having sex. Try it,” I smiled at him.

He smiled back and stood. We shook hands and I told him I’d see him next week.

I watched him from my window, race across the parking lot to his car. I couldn’t help but think how handsome and nice he was. No wonder white women like him. I felt shame for thinking that, clutching my left hand, running my finger over my wedding ring.

*

I hear my daughter somewhere. She’s crying out in pleasure. One of Fat Rob’s friends must be fucking her. I’m in Fat Rob’s arms, kissing him as he bounces me on his cock. I never want to leave this place.

He’s taking me somewhere, down a hallway. We enter a room. I see my daughter on a bed, riding a black man, her hands in her long red mane, grinding her hips against him. He has a smug look on his face watching her ride him.

Fat Rob lays me down next to Leanna and climbs on top of me.

“Hey Mom,” Leanna says nonchalantly. She runs her hands through her hair. “I love black dick. I’m so glad we went out tonight.”

I try to respond, but can’t. The massive Fat Rob is on top of me, making me cum so good once more.

After seeing and hearing Leanna cum again, the men take a break, leaving us alone. She rolls over, smiling at me. Did she bring me here? I still can’t figure this out. The room goes dark again.


-3-

Thinking back to Ulysses’ second appointment, I decided to ask about his work-life.

“Sex there too,” he bluntly admitted. “No I’m not a male prostitute.”

I laughed, “I didn’t think you were.”

“I’ve done yoga instruction, personal trainer work, but mostly some, well, fitness modeling,” he bashfully admitted.

“That’s why you travel?”

“Right. Different locations for various photoshoots. Been to Europe, Brazil, all over.”

“So you have sex with people you meet there? Locals?” I asked.

“Sometimes. It’s mostly coworkers though. Usually after photo shoots with me, we’ll meet up for drinks and end up in my bed.”

“Has this caused issues for your work?”

“Not yet. None of the women have tried to get me fired for sleeping with another model, or tried to manipulate their way into shooting with me. It’s all been drama free. But still,” Ulysses shook his head.

“What?”

“It’s work, it’s a job. Sex shouldn’t be involved. I mean, I feel unprofessional.”

“You don’t have to sleep with these women though. No one is forcing you,” I smiled softly at him.

“I know but, it’s so hard,” Ulysses said. My thoughts went to something else that would be hard – his erection. I scolded myself internally and focused on my job.

“Perhaps you could request a change at work? Maybe shooting for different type of ads – ones that don’t feature female models.”

“I tried that. Didn’t work. I had a photo shoot with a magazine called Elite Magazine. I thought it was going to be simple stuff in the gym, doing exercises, lifting weights and so on. It’d be for their health and fitness section of the magazine. Turns out,” Ulysses shook his head.

“Go on,” I urged, slightly looking forward to how sex became involved.

“Turns out the magazine is marketed toward black men. It also turns out that,” he shrugged. “All the female models are white. And it just so happens white female models are used in pretty much every article type. Fitness, health, cars, street bikes, entertainment section all have black male models and white female models.”

“I see, so that’s where the sex occurred,” I nodded, imagining him taking a model off the set after a photoshoot and pinning her against the wall, having sex.

“Right,” he continued. “Both of them,” he added.

“Both?”

“There were two models. Two blonde, fairly big in the rear,” Ulysses said.

“Oh. I understand.”

“They had them wearing tiny exercise outfits. They posed us in all sorts of awkward poses to make it look like they were coming on to me at the gym. Jenna and Alexis. They were nice girls, but I knew sex with the two of them would happen. They purposefully made sure to rub themselves against me. It was awkward.”

“Did you think about saying no? Or asking them to back down?” I asked, knowing he probably enjoyed it.

“No. The photographer was setting us up in these poses. Jenna would be in front of me, Alexis behind me, rubbing my shoulders. One pose of the both of them face me, my arms around them resting my hands on their lower back. It all led up to it.”

“It?” I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to say it.

“Yeah. After the shoot, they found me in the shower. Both were naked, both entered, and well, the water ran cold we were in there so long. Then afterward we kept going, they used their ‘gifts’ a lot on me.”

I giggled, I knew he meant their big butts. “I see. Well to drive things away from sex, perhaps consider – ”

“A career change?” Ulysses joked.

“Yes!” I laughed.

We shared a smile and prolonged eye contact before I continued the session.

*

The room is so bright now. It has to be daylight. I’m naked, dried semen is all over me. I’m somewhere familiar. I rise up in my bed, Doug’s and my bed. I’m surrounded by sleeping black men.

“No,” I struggle to leave our bedroom, using the wall to stabilize me. I don’t bother putting on clothes.

I hear moans coming from Leanna’s room. I barge in and see her being double teamed by two black men. “Hey Mom,” she says in between moans and grunts.

Fat Rob is in my kitchen, eating breakfast he must’ve cook for himself.

“You have to leave. Now! My husband will be home soon. Doug can’t see this,” I plead.

“Sure,” Fat Rob smiles, finishing his eggs. He whistles loudly, and slowly but surely, he and his crew make their way out.

I hear Leanna whining and complaining as the two men she’s with leave. Some are clothed, some are naked, there must’ve been 15 men in the house. I can’t believe what I’ve done.

I start crying, looking at my wedding ring. Leanna doesn’t care, she happily walks about, totally nude.

“What a night!” she laughs. “Hopefully Doug won’t find out and we can do it again and again and again!”

I can’t believe her. I can’t believe this has happened. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. I run away, I run to my bedroom.

Strange, the shower is running. Did I leave it on? Everything seems so confusing now. I enter the bathroom and pull back the curtain. One of Fat Rob’s friends is in there showering and jacking off. I stare at that massive black cock, shake my head, take a deep breath and get in the shower with him.


-4-

I don’t know his name, or why he stayed behind. Why didn’t he leave with Fat Rob, why couldn’t he shower elsewhere?

He’s fucking me hard from behind. I know my husband will be home soon, but I couldn’t resist. What’s wrong with me?

Doug can’t see this. I have to end this, I have to get this guy out of the house, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want him to keep fucking me.

“Brandi? You home?” I hear Doug call out to me.

“Here!” I manage to say. The black guy I’m in the shower with is slamming hard into me. The slapping sounds are too loud.

I go to my knees, sucking all over this black cock when Doug enters the bathroom. “How was your trip?” I ask from behind the shower curtain. I resume sucking on the black man’s dick as Doug answers.

“It was great. Productive,” I hear him say at the sink. I can’t remember where he went, but I’m guessing work related.

“You and Leanna have a nice weekend?” He asks me. My head is bobbing back and forth on the cock. The black guy has his hands on my head holding me in place.

“Brandi?” I hear him say, turning off the sink.

“Mmhmm! Great!” I manage to get out.

“Good,” Doug leaves the bathroom. I stand, kiss the black guy, and turn back around in the shower. He shoves is cock back inside me and keeps going. I can’t help but moan.

“You ok?” Doug reentered the bathroom.

“Uh huh! Stomach ache,” I answer. The man grabs my head, kissing my neck, then squeezes my tits from behind.

“Sorry sweetie. Anyway, I’m going to finish unpacking,” I heard Doug say as he left. “Enjoy your shower.”

“I will,” I whisper just before another orgasm comes over me.

He picks me up, it’s his turn to cum. I can look over the top of the shower curtain now, into the bedroom. The black man is bouncing me up and down on him. I see Doug happily unpacking. He has no idea his wife is in the shower with a black guy getting relentlessly fucked.

Why doesn’t Doug hear us? Why doesn’t he come in and stop it? How can he not know? Where are the black guy’s clothes? Does Doug see them?
My eyes roll in the back of my head once more as I feel my pussy fill with semen. I look to the bedroom again, Doug is gone. I need this black guy gone too, before Doug sees him.

I suck his cock clean of excess semen – it tastes so good. I lead him back to the bedroom, I see the double-door to our back porch is open. Did I open it? Maybe Doug opened it.

I kiss my shower lover goodbye and watch him exit our home through her bedroom. I climb in bed and wait for my husband to return.

When he does he finds me naked, legs spread. He undresses and climbs on top. As he enters me I wonder if he can feel a difference. I wonder if I’ll ever be the same.

I turn my head to look out the back porch, the double-doors are still open. Doug is still on top, kissing my neck. I see someone on the porch.

It’s Fat Rob, he’s smugly grinning at me. He’s watching my husband make love to me. Fat Rob takes his cock out, shaking it playfully. How did he get there? Was he picking up his friend? I don’t know, I watch him, I picture that big black cock inside me instead of my husband’s. I start cumming.

“Yes! Yes!” I cry out to Fat Rob, climaxing at the same time. Fat Rob nods, puts his cock back in his pants and leaves.

As the orgasms passes, I kiss Doug. His cums seconds later.

Time speeds by, the sun sets, Doug is watching a game after dinner, Leanna is out – I’ve no idea where she is. I don’t remember talking to her.

I write Doug a quick note. I tell him Leanna is having car trouble, I’m going to pick her up. I leave it next to the table by his recliner. I kiss his forehead and leave.

*

This whip hurts so bad, but feels so very good. I left Doug sleeping and went straight to Fat Rob’s. I’m being whipped again. I don’t remember even asking for it, but these black men are taking turns doing it and fucking me as I hang from my wrists again.

I scream out with pain and pleasure. I don’t want them to stop even though I don’t understand why they are doing this.

With each whip crack I think back to my third session with Ulysses.


-5-

I remember I wore something much nicer and sexier than usual attire for my next appointment with Ulysses. It was a tighter, shorter dress, new shoes. Adjusting my wedding ring, I felt silly, but figured no harm would come from dressing nicer.

“Ulysses, I want to talk about regrets. Not simply feeling bad that sex is a huge part of your life, but is there anything you really regret that you struggle to make peace with? Perhaps to do that would help you feel more fulfillment out of life.”

Ulysses was quiet, contemplating what I said, but also searching his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he eventually spoke up.

I waited for him to answer, giving him time.

“I was in Miami. I go down there often for work, shoots and so on. I met a woman at a club. A beautiful brunette named Megan. That happens every time I go to clubs, but she was different. She had long, thick brown hair, blue eyes and she was short. She was so commanding, like she was a boss or manager, and knew what she wanted and how to get it.”

“She wanted you?” I asked, knowing the answer, not blaming the woman.

“Yeah.”

I leaned forward a bit, hoping he’d glance at my cleavage. “So what do you regret?”

“Megan took me home. We were in her kitchen, living room, everywhere, having sex. We ended up in her bed. That’s when I learned she was married,” Ulysses explained.

My eyes widened. “Married?”

“Yeah. I should’ve left. I’ve been in that situation before, and always felt horrible. I’m not the kind of guy that purposelessly goes out and tries to ruin marriages, or get white women to cheat, or leave their husbands for me. The few times I’ve slept with a married women – I hate to say this, but it was accidental. I wasn’t planning on it or searching for it.”

My breathing was erratic, my heart pumping, “Um, ok, I see. So you and Megan had sex and there was regret.”

“Yes, but I didn’t leave, I stayed,” Ulysses sighed. I could tell there was more he wanted to share.

“You were enjoying it.”

“Yes, but then she told me to tie her up. Megan wanted me to do it by her wrists. I chickened out. I got too scared to say no. She was hanging there. That’s when she told me to look in her closet. She told me to bring out a whip she was hiding there.”

“A whip?”

“Yeah. She wanted me to whip her. I thought it was a racial thing. Black slaves were whipped. I asked her and she told me it was only for her. She felt guilt about something and wanted it whipped out of her.”

“Cheating?”

“She didn’t say. But I complied, like an idiot. I whipped that poor woman over and over just like she asked me to. She cried out from pain, then begged me to keep going. When it was done, I regretted ever meeting her. I regretted enabling her to cheat, regretted whipping her. I regretted the whole night.”

I took a deep breath and scribbled in my notes. “Ever see her again?”

“No. We had sex one more time in the shower, then I left.”

I was unable to focus for the rest of his session. Part of me was so turned on not just from Ulysses, but sleeping with him, the idea of an affair with him, maybe even being whipped.

That night I took a long bath. I set my wedding ring on the side of the tub and fingered myself to climax several times – thinking of Ulysses.

*

That’s where and when I first heard about a whip.

Doug is behind me now; I’m on all fours. I can’t believe he doesn’t notice the whip marks from Fat Rob. Doug has said nothing. Leanna has said nothing. I don’t remember what time I got home. No one noticed or said anything about her supposed car trouble.

I feel regret and shame for what I’m doing. I don’t know when or how this will end.

I feel nothing as Doug fucks me from behind. I’m looking out into the backyard, it’s pouring down rain. I didn’t even notice it was cloudy.


-6-

I remember now. It was raining when I first met Ulysses, it was raining during his fourth session – the first time we had sex.

Things seem clearer now, but I still can’t piece it all together. Doug is on top of me now. I don’t feel him. It’s like my senses aren’t working. But I remember Ulysses.

He showed up to his fourth session. I was wearing another sexy dress. I fingered myself all week thinking of him. I practically jumped on him.

He was startled, not expecting it. But I knew deep down he knew it would happen – with a black body, face, cock like his, sex with every white woman he encounters was the normal.

Ulysses tried to resist at first. I was straddling him, kissing him on the couch. He pointed to my wedding ring in between kisses. I shut him up with my mouth over his. We were naked soon. He slammed me on my desk and took me there.

I came so hard, so fast, so powerfully from him pistoning in and out of me. The downpour of rain outside hopefully muffled my moans of pleasure a bit.

We went quickly, 45 minutes into it and he came inside me. He apologized, gathered his clothes and left.

My pussy was oozing semen onto my desk. After a few minutes, I went to my knees and licked it from my desk. I put my clothes on, sat in my chair and waited for my next appointment, pushing aside what I just did.

I cried myself to sleep that night, my left thumb rubbing my wedding ring.

Ulysses and I met only two more sessions. Each one was nothing but sex. We did it on my desk, on the couch, I swallowed his semen each time.

On the final session, Ulysses told me he was sorry, but couldn’t see me anymore. He said he’s accepted this is how his life is and will work harder to be closer with Devin. That was it. I watched him put his clothes back on and leave.

Leanna caught me crying that night at the house. She tried consoling me, but I brushed her off. I saw the look of concern on her face, but I had to deal with what I’ve done on my own.

*

I remember everything now. I remember how I got here.

It was New Year’s Eve. Leanna told me to remove my wedding ring, she was taking me out. I resisted at first, but I know why she asked me to remove it.

We were at a club, I saw several men approach her, some of them she pointed to me. One man, she introduced me to. His name was Fat Rob. He’s why I’m here, he’s why I’m in this place. He’s why memories were hazy. He’s why everything seems odd.

I’m having sex with Fat Rob right now. I’m on my bed, Doug is somewhere, I don’t remember where. I’m riding Fat Rob so hard, I feel like the bed will break.

I kiss him hard, he calls me “Miss Brandi” again. I resume grinding into him.

I hear Doug approaching. His footsteps are so loud, like thunder. I can’t stop riding Fat Rob though.

“Brandi?” he calls out. “You there?” his voice his booming.

I grit my teeth and keep fucking this black man. “Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!”

The bed collapses and I keep going, keep cumming. Each one of Doug’s footsteps thunder through the hallway.

It’s raining again, I can hear it outside, over the sound of my primal grunts or orgasms.

He’s taking forever to reach our bedroom and catch me in the act. Why is he moving so slow?

More thundering footsteps, my name being called. Fat Rob slaps my ass, I know Doug hears it.

“Brandi!” he yells, upon entering our room. I don’t stop having sex with Fat Rob. I look over my shoulder and see Doug’s horrified face. He falls to his knee’s crying.

Leanna enters the room, naked, pushing Doug over– he can’t stop crying.

“Mom!” Leanna says. I am paralyzed, unable to look away from my crying husband. He slams his fist into the floor, a sound of thunder echoes in the room.

“Mom!” Leanna shakes me, but all I see is Doug crying, striking the floor in agony. The room dims, getting darker and darker. Did we lose power from the storm?

Doug is changing, he’s turning brighter. He’s a light source, bright, shinning in my eye. I remember Fat Rob, what I’ve done, how I got here.

“Doug!” I cry. “Doug! I scream his name over and over again. “Doug, please!” the bright light is blinding now. I can’t breathe.


-7-

“Doug! Doug!” I woke up in a hospital bed.

Leanna was right there next to me, “Mom!”

“Where am I? Where’s Doug?”

“What?” Leanna glanced to the nurse.

She started crying and the nurse excused herself. I was gasping for air, called out Doug’s name over and over.

“Mom,” Leanna shook her head.

“What am I doing here? I want to see Doug.”

“Mom, no, he’s – ”

It felt like my heart was going to burst. I was out of breath. I gripped Leanna’s hand as hard as I could.

“Doug,” I whispered, hoping to calm myself down.

“He’s gone, Mom. Remember? It’s been over a year,” Leanna said.

“What? A year? Where?” I was crying now.

“Mom, remember, that’s why we moved here. So he could be closer to his family before he – ” Leanna wiped a tear. “Before he passed away.”

I closed my eyes. I heard the rain outside my hospital window. A loud pop of thunder snapped my eyes open.

“Over a year,” I repeated. Leanna nodded. I remembered now.

“What happened last night?” I asked, looking around the hospital room, releasing my grip on Leanna’s hand.

“New Year’s Eve. I took you to a club. I thought it’d be fun. The two of us hanging out,” Leanna answered.

“My ring?” I glanced to my left hand, not seeing it there.

“It’s at home. Right by the bed.”

“Did you – ”
“Yes, mom. I thought if you could take it off maybe you’d meet someone and, well, have fun. You haven’t taken it off since Doug’s funeral. I just thought,” Leanna said.

I sat up in bed, hugging her, knowing she was trying to help.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Leanna’s crying returned.

“For what, sweetie?”

“I took you to that club. I introduced you to someone I thought was a friend. That piece of shit - I mean, Fat Rob. I saw him put something in your drink. I nearly punched him out. I grabbed you and took you home.”

“Leanna,” I cried.

“Mom, you wouldn’t wake up. He must’ve put too much of whatever it was. I called 911, I was freaking out. I didn’t want to lose you too,” Leanna said.

“The ambulance rushed you here, they pumped your stomach. But you still didn’t wake up. You’ve been here asleep for almost two days.”

“Fat Rob. I didn’t go, I mean, he and I didn’t,” I was putting the pieces together.

“No. I’m so glad I saw him slip something into your drink. If I hadn’t been paying attention – ”

“Oh, sweetie, come here,” I hugged her again.

I held her for several minutes as she cried. “I’m alive, I’m awake, I’m fine.”

I took a deep breath, brief images of the nightmare I had flashed before my eyes. The whipping, the darkness, the chains, the black man in the shower, Fat Rob, and finally my late-husband witnessing a horrific event – one that thankfully, wasn’t real.

I shook the images from my head and held my daughter. She was still wearing the dress she wore on our night out.

*

I went home the next day. I had trouble walking a bit, and my head hurt, but I was fine. Thankfully, whatever Fat Rob slipped into my drink wasn’t enough to kill me.

I considered filing a police report. But neither Leanna nor I know his last name, where he works, or anything other than his appearance. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to do it.

I looked in on the bed I destroyed in my nightmare. It was intact, undisturbed, just like it was the after Doug’s funeral over a year ago. Leanna keeps the room clean, she dusts it and so on.

I moved into the guest room after Doug died. I couldn’t be in our room, it hurt too much to not have him there.

I sat on the edge of the guest bed, running my hands through my hair when something caught my eye – my wedding ring on the bedside table.

I stared at it for several seconds before slowly reaching for it. I started to put it on, but stopped myself. “No,” I said out loud. I opened the drawer and stowed it safely away.

The following week, Leanna and I went through Doug’s clothing and other items, boxing them up, taking them to Goodwill.

We painted the walls a different color. There was no double-door to the back porch in that room, unlike in my nightmare, there was a large window though. We got new shades for it. I moved all furniture out and tore up the carpet.

A week later, wood flooring was in place, and the room looked totally different.

One item remained – a bed. The following weekend, Leanna helped me pick out a new bed for that room – my room. I moved out of the guest room that night.

Leanna slept in there with me on my first night back in that room since Doug passed away.

Another couple of weeks passed. I was at my office. My 10am appointment cancelled. I decided to make a phone call.


-8-
“Brandi, hey, how are you?” Ulysses answered my call. It’d been several weeks since I last saw him.

“I’m doing well. What about you?”

“I’m fine,” he answered. I could tell he felt awkward.

“Listen, I was thinking if you don’t have plans, we could meet for lunch today. There’s something I’d like to tell you. More of an apology, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. We can meet up,” he said.

“Great. My treat.”

We met a couple hours later at a nearby restaurant. I didn’t waste any time; immediately telling him I was sorry for my unprofessionalism. He was accepting, nodding and smiling politely.

“There’s more,” I glanced to my left hand, my wedding ring no longer there.

“I feel the worst about not being up front with you. I have trouble saying these words, what about I’m about to tell you,” I glanced at my hand once more, then back to his eyes.

“I’m not married. I wasn’t married when we had sex. My husbanded died over a year ago. I haven’t been able to take the ring off, until recently. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have lunged at you like that during that session. But I couldn’t say the words, I couldn’t let go. I guess I never will, Doug will always be in my heart in some way, but I want you to know I’m sorry for any regret or guilt you felt by thinking you had sex with another married woman.”

Ulysses was quiet, eyes wide, taking my words in. “Brandi, I, um, thanks. I did feel bad. I thought you were married, that’s why I stopped using you as a therapist. But thank you for telling me. I’ve never lost a spouse, but I imagine it’s hard to say that they’re gone, that you’re not married anymore and to take off the ring.”

“Yes,” I smiled at him.

“Are you doing ok? I mean, are you feeling better about not wearing it?”

“Yes, it was time. My daughter took me out on New Year’s. She tried to help me move on. I guess in some ways it worked.”

We smiled at each other once more before our meal arrived. I learned more of Ulysses that day. I learned he actually took my advice. He and his former stepmother are thinking about moving in with one another and maintaining an open, but not too open, relationship.

He and I met up after I left the office for the day.

Ulysses stood at the foot of his bed. I was on my knees, kissing over his stomach, thighs and beautiful cock. I sucked it lovingly, slowly, smiling at up at him.

I stood and he squatted, picking me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. Standing there, he guided his cock in me. I almost climaxed when he entered me. We kissed and he moved me to the bed.

Laying me gently on my back, he kissed me again. Propping himself up with his hands, I placed my own hands on his chest, as he slowly began sliding his cock in and out of me.

I orgasmed minutes later, he rolled onto his back, taking me with him. Kissing him again, I slowly rode him, savoring his long shaft hitting all the right spots inside me.

We went until after midnight. I kissed him goodbye, told him I’d see him again sometime. He said that’d be great, he suggested I meet Devin. At the time I was ok if I never saw him again. However, I know that I feel much better now.

I did see him again. I’m lying in his arms right now. It’s been a few months since my night out with Leanna on New Year’s, getting drugged, and waking up in the hospital a couple days later. It was a horrible event.

The nightmare I had is a little fuzzy, some of the details lost over time. But I’ll never forget it. Luckily, I’ve slept much better. Every once in a while a human teddy bear, named Leanna, will join me, snuggling up to me, watching a movie in my new bed. I’m thankful I have her support.

I’m thankful for Ulysses too. I kiss his chest and roll back on top of him, sliding his cock back inside me. We meet up occasionally for lunch or dinner – then sex. He’s not my boyfriend, just a great friend.

The other week I met Devin. She’s in the shower now. After I cum on Ulysses in a couple minutes, we’ll probably join her.

I’m thinking of moving back to Charleston. Leanna and I weren’t as close to Doug’s family. Since he’s gone now, maybe it’s time I return home.

This intense orgasm passes, Ulysses holding me. We kiss, he sits up, his cock still embedded inside me and takes me the shower to join Devin.

Ulysses sets me down in the shower. Devin hugs and kisses me on the cheek. I smile at her and we both go to our knees to service Ulysses’ long, dark rod.
I pop his cockhead out of my mouth. I look to him, seeing him smile at me. I’m glad I was able to help him a little during those few weeks I was his therapist.

He and my daughter don’t yet realize how much they have helped me.
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