/squeeeee! My good friend, Submissive Night Owl, agreed to be a guest blogger for me today!! She sent me this amazing post and gave me permission to correct any errors, but also asked that I be gentle with her baby. For the record, she wrote beautifully, and there was little for me to do. Don’t follow her??? You should!
She’s introspective, thoughtful, smart as hell, and working on figuring it all out just like the rest of us. She’s in graduate school right now studying mental health counseling.
And now, for her post…Forbidden.
He was forbidden fruit.
Under the ethics of her profession, she shouldn’t even be entertaining these thoughts. She had sat in too many disciplinary hearings before the state board, watching fellow members of her profession lose their license to practice because they had crossed this very same line.
She brought herself back to the present moment. She knew he had developed transference with her. She knew she was mother/lover/confidante in his psyche. In a way, this imprinting was essential to the therapeutic process. It allowed for a depth of trust rarely encountered between two humans.
It was also tremendously intoxicating.
At the moment, he was telling her how lonely he had been since his divorce. He spoke of skin hunger and sexual need, how he lay awake sleepless at night, kicking off the covers, his cock standing erect and saluting the dark night. She knew he was pushing her boundaries, testing her. It was part of the therapeutic process. Yet he called to her own lonely soul, her own lonely nights kicking off sheets and touching herself in an attempt to find some consolation in that dark state of solitude.
She had a accepted a sacred trust when she spoke her oath of office. It was simply not possible – he was forbidden to her.
Once again, she forced herself to mindfulness. She had been seeing him in her mind – his narrow hips, his wide shoulders, laying in bed on his back with erect cock, touching and soothing his aching need. This wayward thinking was highly undisciplined. She had worked years to learn control over her unruly thoughts. Yet he continued to speak of his need. She should be distracting and diverting him, forbidding this path of conversation.
Instead she listened, her eyes locked to his as he wove a tale of want and desire and need. She nodded her head as he spoke of how often his erection came to him unbidden during his workday, how he had taken to wearing two pairs of briefs to keep the insistent pre-cum from showing through his trousers. He spoke of arriving home from work and going immediately to the shower to release the pressure. He gazed into her eyes and asked for her counsel, counsel that he was paying $120 an hour to hear.
She licked her lips. In her mind, she could hear the possibility of speaking the words, ‘I am lonely, too. I also spend my nights laying awake, throbbing and aching. I also want and need.’ It would be a very human thing to admit. It would show compassion. He would know that he wasn’t alone.
Amazing how the mind tricks itself with lies and half-truths when it wants something so badly.
She sat back in her chair, breaking the near trance state that hung between them. She suggested the appropriate cognitive and behavioral exercises. She gave him an assignment to find constructive diversions. She encouraged him to find ways to exhaust himself physically to make sleep easier. Yet she knew these were all band-aids, that he would go home tonight and think of her, rise to his need, and spill his seed in the night, calling her name.
And, in her own bed, she would shudder in orgasm, wet her sheets, and whisper his name to the darkness…….and never, ever know his touch.
He is forbidden.
/shivers. That was good. If you like what you read, go follow her!
Submissive Night Owl: http://submissivenightowl.wordpress.com/