Page 28 of Physical Therapy

The asshole takes three more steps backward. “Then come and get it.”

I fold one leg out.

“On your knees,” he growls.

Why the hell am I so damn wet? Something about this man taking charge. About the way he assumes he can.

I crave the degradation. Jesus wept.

I slide off the bed and onto all fours. He continues to palm his dick as I crawl my way to him, swaying my ass left and right as I do. A guttural groan escapes Boe’s throat when I reach him, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.

“Don’t be gentle,” he mutters as I take the base of his shaft in my hand. “Punish me.”

I answer with a tight squeeze and a wicked smile. His balls draw tight as he hisses between his teeth, eyes shut tight. His legs falter when I draw my fist to the tip, forcing a sweet droplet out for the taking. My eager tongue can’t wrap around the head fast enough. So sweet. So… him. I lap the sticky bead up, immediately fisting him to gain more.

Five years in this profession, two at my own practice, and it’s at the hands of a patient, of all things, that I realize my own weakness.

I crave submission.

Boe’s finger’s dive into my hair, holding me to him as I bob the length of his rigid cock. I suck and tease, twisting my tongue around the head, tickling the very tip. One could be mistaken for thinking I have control right now, but with gentle pressure to the back of my scalp, Boe ensures I don’t forget who calls the shots.

I spend all day in charge. People come to me with their problems, seeking the assurance I can give them that, given time, everything will be okay. It’s empowering, being that pillar of strength for others in their moment of vulnerability.

But it’s also draining.

Which is why fleeting moments such as these bleed the vein of pressure. For half an hour, fifteen minutes, however long… I can let go of that responsibility.

In my own moment of vulnerability, I can relinquish control to someone else.

Someone I trust.

For Boe, it’s the ultimate show of respect that I can give him. I trust him to take care of me. To lift me up, alleviate the stress of the day.

“Any longer, Doc, and you’ll be drinking your lunch.”

He pulls free from my mouth with a pop, his hand sliding around to cup my chin. His arm flexes, light pressure applied beneath my jaw to coax me to stand. I oblige, rising to my feet, heels still firmly in place.

A precious second passes where we stand eye-to-eye, toe-to-toe, connected on a level that no psychotherapy lessons could have ever taught me to achieve.

His brow twitches, almost imperceptible with the sweep of his hands to my shoulders and the ensuing manhandling I receive when Boe swiftly turns me about face. His firm hand moves to my stomach, jerking my body back into his. I inhale sharply as his commanding touch slides upward, tracing a path between my breasts to my throat. He wraps his fingers around the column of my neck, restricting my airflow as he guides my head back onto his shoulder.

“You’re like putty in my hands, aren’t you Doc?” His whispered words send goose bumps racing across my exposed flesh. “What does your analysis make of that, huh?”

He gave me a rhetorical question, clearly not interested in the answer when he busies himself removing first my bralette and then the next to useless panties. I step out of the lace, watching as they land haphazardly on the bed before me. His palm connects with my back, between my shoulders, his fingers splayed. Boe’s other hand finds my hip, anchoring me to him as he pushes on my back.

I double over, awkwardly, my hamstrings on fire with the stretch I demand of them.

“Grab your ankles.”

Goddamn. I’m going to need to add stretches into my daily routine if I want to keep this up.

“Don’t let go.”

I steady my breathing, easing into the burn of my muscles when he slaps his palm across my ass. Fuck me! I’ve sure as hell got something else to focus on now.

“You’re a fucking sight for sore eyes,” he appraises. “I’m definitely feeling a lot better now.”

I don’t get a chance to respond before he runs the tip of his slick cock down my ass crack and then lines himself with my entrance. My hands flex around my ankles, breath caught in my throat as he slides himself home slow and most definitely deliberately.

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