Page 18 of Physical Therapy

Curiosity gets the better of me. I peek underneath my arm to find Boe on his knees, shuffling across the floor to where I stand braced against the window. He rests on his haunches, his fist strangling the thick erection he sports, while he watches my hand with pure unchecked fascination.

“How do you think it would taste right now if I buried my face in that glistening cunt?”

Damn it. My fingers pause, the crest so close. Not yet.

“Talk to me, Edith, otherwise I put this reward away”—he squeezes his cock—“and show you the door.”

“Sweet,” I mutter. “I guess it would be sweet.”

“Guess?”

Boe runs a thick finger around my own, gathering my juices. My knees weaken.

“Tell me.” Reaching forward, he offers the finger to me. “What does it taste like?”

I drink that moisture from his tip without a second thought. Yet another first for me. But for him, I know it won’t be a last.

“Sweet, yet tangy.”

“Let me see.”

Firm hands take hold of my buttocks, my legs barely able to hold me as Boe dives in for his own assessment. My clit quivers when his firm tongue sweeps the length of my pussy. A groan the only noise I can make when he then drives the tip of the muscle deep inside of me.

“Very sweet,” he mumbles against my flesh before having another taste.

I brace both hands on the sill, lips parted and my breaths shallow and fast. Every part of my body tingles, the hum radiating from where Boe enjoys his feast. He finishes with a firm slap to my ass, rising to full height.

“If I told you I’m clean would you take my word for it?”

I barely know the man, but I don’t perceive him as one to lie about something so serious. “Yes.”

“Good, because I need to be in you right fucking now.”

I barely get time to catch my breath before his gym pants are around his thighs and he lines himself with my entrance. We moan in unison, my head tipping back when Boe slides home. My hips move of their own volition, the urge to feel his full length caress my inner walls dire.

He wraps a hand around my low bun, taking hold to pull my head back further. The tautness of my throat makes it hard to breathe, yet the eroticism of the moment leaves me indifferent to the inconvenience.

“Has your opinion changed, Dr. Potts?” he taunts while driving his cock deep. “What do you think of me now?”

“Your ego gets the better of you,” I respond between panted breaths. “You seek validation the only way you know how.”

“Fuck I love therapy.”

“But sex will only ever be a temporary high.” I gasp when he tweaks a nipple through my thin bra. “You’ll never get what you seek until you understand how to connect mentally and emotionally.”

With a final vicious thrust, Boe reaches the desired climax. I follow soon after with his languid, slow thrusts—already disgusted with myself.

As though to cement my assessment of him, he withdraws, spilling the evidence of our union onto the laminate floor before walking away. I take a moment to gather myself, and then swipe the nearest thing I can find to stem the flow until I can clean up: my panties.

I gather my dress and find Boe in the small kitchen, tucked to the right of the living area, slowly working his way through a tall glass of water while he watches me. “Bathroom is at the end of the hall.” He gestures with his drink.

“Thanks.” I make the walk of shame with as much pride as I can muster while clutching my clothing to me.

The room is tiled floor to ceiling with crisp white, the fixtures gleaming silver. I clean myself best I can and redress. My hair takes little to tidy away the strands he pulled free, and thankfully my makeup is more or less untouched.

A quick check of the time shows I’m within the allotted thirty-five minutes. I have no doubt that’s more of Boe’s design than coincidence.

My ass hits the side of the bathtub while I take a moment to process what just happened. How could I let myself get so carried away? At every turn I recognize how he pulls the control from me, and yet I let him do it.

I can’t continue as his therapist with good conscience. I took on my career to elicit change in people’s lives. But change for the better.

Being tangled up with me? That’s not a step in the right direction for Boe.

He needs somebody who can do what the court ordered and get him to prove remorse. He needs somebody who isn’t emotionally invested in him.

What he needs, is another man.

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