Why does this sort of thing always happen to me? Hi, my name is Allison Crossfire; I am a Psychiatrist and sex therapist for the County of Los Angeles.
For years now, it has been my job to treat those who have a problem with sexual deficiencies. I love my job, ever since I was a little girl I have always seen myself as helping those that are in need.
You see, I MYSELF am one of those folks who was born with an over-stimulated sex drive. For years, I struggled with the needs and urges of my sexual beast, in truth, I still do.
She was my patient, her name was Camille and she also suffered from the same demons as I do on a daily basis. My colleagues all said NOT to treat her as I may fall into the transference trap, and Not be able to help her.
Fifteen years on the job told me differently, so I welcomed Camille and explained what we would do in therapy. She was a beautiful woman, 32 years old, married to her husband for 6 years, but she could never be fully satisfied sexually.
Oh sure, she could achieve orgasm over and over, but once satisfied, the feelings of raw sexuality crept back into her loins like those of a tiger just waiting to pounce on its prey.
Hoping to help ease her concerns, I explained my OWN demons, and what I had found was necessary to rein them in. She explained that she loved her husband, but that he just didn’t understand her and often rejected her advances when she needed him the most.
I told her that was very common and that she should sit him down and explain about her desires and needs. After all, this was going to have to be a two way street if it had any hope of working.
For weeks I saw her, and it was always the same thing, NOT ENOUGH SEX. The more she spoke, I found myself becoming more and more attracted to this beauty. I realized that my feelings should have been strictly clinical, but my pussy didn’t agree, the more she spoke about sex, the hornier I would get. Looking into her eyes during the sessions, I KNEW she felt it too. I needed to walk away, but my body said otherwise.
The last session with her was my Waterloo. She came dressed in a see through blouse which showed off her voluptuous upturned breasts. Her skirt was short enough to show her wearing a thong when she sat down, which made my pulse started to race like a woman who just finished a marathon. I WANTED her.
She started to speak and I just had to jump in, “Camille, are you as turned on right now as I am”, I asked. She responded by leaning in, placing her lips over mine and gently kissed them.
My pussy went into overdrive as it felt as though I had wet my pants. She took my hand and placed it on her breast, and said, “Would you like to suckle me?” I just nodded, unbuttoned that blouse, removed her bra, and placed my hot lips over her nipples sucking them like wild abandon.
She started to moan as I gently bit her nipples, and then sucked again. Another delicious moan arose as I removed her skirt and brought her to the floor. She was mine now, patient or no patient; she was finally going to get the sex she so badly needed.
I went from her head to her toes, stroking her, and licking her till she nearly came from her pleasure. I was obsessed, SHE was obsessed and no-one could break us apart until we had each been satisfied from the beast’s lust.
Licking a woman’s pussy has always been a favorite of mine, the smell of sex, the taste, and watching and listening to the moans of pleasure. Around her clit I went, up and down, then slowly and lovingly entered my tongue into her love cavity as she did mine.
We were insane, but we were ALIVE with lust’s pleasure and there was NO word for stop. In and out went my tongue until I felt her tense, and then scream with ecstatic pleasure. I could no longer contain my composure and also screamed out like a banshee in the night. We were alone, and the night was quiet once again.
Was I wrong for pursuing this, YES; in fact I gave up my practice the next day and moved away. The pain I had caused this young woman was MY fault, yet, the pleasure was also something we would both never forget.