When Julia walked into my therapy room, I felt my heart skip a beat. As a professional therapist for 15 years, I was used to keeping my feelings in check. But I had to take a deep breath to steady myself as I gazed at this vision of beauty that entered my private, secluded practice.
Julia, 25, was five feet and ten inches tall and wore her blonde hair pinned back in a bun. Her tight black crop top made it clear she was bra-less and her bare stomach was lean and tanned. Her long legs impressed in tight black leather trousers and she matched her red high heels with the shade of lipstick on those full lips. Her big hazel eyes were dazzling. She made herself at home, sitting in the chair opposite mine. Her beautiful body was separated from me only by a small table adorned by a box of tissues.
It was the first time we had met in therapy. I shifted in my chair and checked the time on the wall clock - sessions only lasted 50 minutes. I inhaled some more of her intoxicating perfume and waited for her to start talking.
"Can I smoke?" Julia asked, as she draped herself in the chair and stretched out luscious legs a little closer to mine.
"I'm afraid not, no drink or drugs allowed," I replied. I realised I should tell her that she was inappropriately dressed for therapy and I should finish the session. But I said nothing as my rule book had been shelved today. I just stared at those athletic legs, the shapely breasts thrusting out from under that crop top and the moisture on her scarlet lips. I had to restrain an urge to reach out and grab hold of her and kiss her passionately.
"I was raped last night," she said in an unemotional tone, staring into my eyes to see what way I was going to take this shocking information.
I gulped and felt myself begin to sweat. I also noticed the beginning of an erection inside my trousers.
Julia continued: "I was coming to see you about my anxiety and panic attacks, as you know from my application letter. But I thought I'd better start with the latest news." She paused and looked at the ceiling.
"Do you know who it was?" I asked, quietly.
She sighed and said: "No, it all happened so quickly. I was at a bar chatting to a couple of men. One of them must have put something in my drink. I remember sitting on a stool and a male voice asking me if I was okay. Then I heard him tell someone in the bar that I was his girlfriend, that I had too much to drink and so he would see me home. I must have passed out because that was all I can remember until I awoke in my own bed. My clothes lay scattered on the floor, including my stockings, miniskirt and bra, and my hands were bound by cuffs to the bed."
"Go on," I said in what I hoped was a sympathetic voice. The erection was growing harder and bigger. I wondered if she could see the tell-tale shape in my trousers as my unruly cock made its way towards the sky.
I saw her eyes lower and linger on my groin. Julia seemed about to say something but just sighed again and continued telling her story. She said: "A naked man wearing a leather mask was on top of me. He was middle-aged but surprisingly strong and muscular. My legs were spread wide apart and he was thrusting deep inside my pussy without a condom." There was a long silence in the room. She looked at me intently and said: "Can I have a glass of water, please?"
"Of course," I replied, getting up with some difficulty, trying to disguise the shape inside my trousers. I poured a glass of water and gave it to Julia, letting my fingers brush against hers. She had small and attractive feminine hands with red varnish on her nails.
"You seem to be enjoying my story of sexual assault," she said pointedly, looking at my crotch. "I thought it was against the rules for a counsellor to become attracted to their client during a therapy session."
"Sometimes in therapy there is no point in pretending that one is a blank screen," I replied. I added: "I feel very sorry for you in your predicament but I am a normal, sexual animal. When an attractive woman walks into my practice, I notice. I hope you welcome my honesty and authenticity. It is important that we build a rapport based on trust. Please continue."
She looked at me as if she was either going to slap my face or walk out. Instead Julia just nodded and continued with her story. "I think you are trying to compliment me. Strangely enough, I had consensual relationships in the past where we had forced sex role plays. In the right circumstances it can turn me on. But not being drugged, abducted and violated."
Julia wiped a tear from her eye. She continued: "This beast took his time to enjoy exploring every inch of my body; he told me I was hot and sexy. At last after calling me every degrading word under the sun, he came inside of me. He enjoyed fucking me and filled every hole available. There was nothing I could do about it. He took my panties as a souvenir."
"Did you enjoy being fucked like that?" I asked.
Julia stared at me, anger flashing across her face. She said: "My God, you're a brutal bastard. Is this your bedside therapy manner?"
I replied: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I find it more honest to be straightforward. You can always back out or refuse to answer. I'm interested in your true feelings. But whatever you say, I will still charge you for the session."
"You haven't said yet how much it costs?" Julia replied.
I smiled for the first time since she came in. "I'm still thinking about that, Julia," I said. "Are you going to answer me? Did he make you come?"
"Yes," she said, her tongue licking her lips.
I replied: "Yes, you enjoyed it or yes, you are going to answer me?"
Julia laughed briefly and said: "Yes to both questions. I enjoyed the sex but I didn't like being taken like that, like a piece of tied-up meat. So you find me an attractive woman, Simon?"
It was my turn to laugh now. "Surely that is a rather pointless question," I replied.
Julia frowned, arched an eyebrow and answered: "If you are going to get turned on so easily by your clients you really should wear something else or at least have a desk to sit behind!"
Before I could say anything else she got down on her knees. She unzipped my trousers and let my hard cock free into the fresh air. Without a word, she took it in her mouth and I felt her long tongue running up and down my shaft. As her head got closer I untied her hair and let her long blonde locks dangle free over her shoulders.
Julia let my cock slip from her lips and said coolly: "Did I give you permission to touch my hair?"
"No but I did it anyway," I replied, thrusting my cock back into her mouth. My hands stroked her hair and face as she continued to gorge on my member. Suddenly I stood up, my cock springing out of her mouth. I cupped her cheeks in my palms and rubbed my penis against her nose and cheeks. "Beautiful face to cum over," I said, just as I felt my member contract and I lost control, spurting hot cum over her.
"You bastard!" Julia said, getting up from the floor and sitting back in her chair. She reached into her handbag and took out a handkerchief which she used to slowly clean her face.
"Consider the session paid for," I said. "That's all we have time for this week."
Julia rose and walked to the door. I had zipped my trousers and was up quickly to hold open the door for her.
I said: "Just before you go, one final thing." I leaned towards her and kissed her full on those red lips, with one hand fondling her bottom and another squeezing a breast. "Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"
She looked at me and froze for a second. I was pressing my freshly-aroused cock against her leather thigh. "Yes," she said coldly. She slammed the door behind her.
I went back to my chair and took out my notebook to write up the session. A good start, I thought to myself. I went to my file cupboard and pulled out some soiled panties and, underneath, a black leather mask. Tomorrow I would be having Julia for lunch.