over a year ago
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When I went for my therapy session the following week, I was surprized to find a room full of people in the therapist's office. They were all talking to one another excitedly, and the buzz didn't die down until my therapist noticed me across the room.
"Ah, there you are. So now everyone is here." He motioned me towards an empty chair, and everyone else also sat themselves down. Once we were all sitting, I could see that the chairs had been set in a circle. The talking had stopped, and everyone waited expectantly.
"As you all know," began the therapist. "You are all now at the stage in your treatment where some group therapy is going to achieve the fastest results." Everyone murmured approvingly. They, it seemed, had all been pre-warned of this, but it was the first I had heard about it. I wasn't sure what to do, but I didn't feel comfortable discussing my problems with a group of people I had never met before. I raised my hand.
"I didn't know anything about this."
"Group Therapy. I thought I was just coming for a normal session."
"Oh dear, oh dear. Well, we did discuss this last week. You agreed that you thought it would be useful for you."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." He paused to think. "I tell you what, why don't you just stay and observe for this week, and then next week you can join in if you want to, or revert to one-to-one therapy."
I looked around the circle. Everyone was looking at me and smiling, and I felt that it would be rude not to stay, so I agreed. The man sitting on my right gave me an encouraging smile, and I smiled back. I didn't mind staying, but I wasn't about to join in with all this. Not my scene at all.
"Now then," he said. "Let's prepare ourselves for today's session by relaxing: by setting aside the stresses and inhibitions of life outside this room. As I count down from ten to one, you will become more relaxed, more receptive, more open." I listened to the countdown, becoming a little less tense with every number. As he drew closer to the end, I began to remember flashes from my previous sessions, and when he reached one I was hot and wet and ready for anything.
"Today," he said, "we're going to play a game. A kind of pass the parcel. Ladies, please turn to your right, gentlemen to your left." Around the circle, I noticed, men and women were sitting in alternate seats, so every woman had a man to her right. "You have five minutes before the bell rings, and during that time you may each remove one item of clothing from your partner. When the bell rings, the ladies will move around in a clockwise direction, and the next five minute period will begin."
The man on the chair next to me looked a little unsure of himself. "Is this ok with you?" he asked, his handsome young face a picture of concern.
In reply, I began to unbutton his shirt, kissing his neck and down his chest as I went. He groaned as I flicked my tongue at his hardened nipples, and began to tug at my blouse with clumsy fingers.
"Let me," I said, and as I undid the buttons, he kissed and sucked at my neck and shoulders, sending waves of desire through my tingling skin. Then he began, very gently, to stroke my back and the top of my breasts -- the part he could reach with my bra still on. The pleasure he was giving me was only enhanced by the limitations placed upon it. When the bell rang, we kissed deeply before I moved gladly on to the next man.
He was older than me, perhaps in his forties, with thinning hair and a big smile on his face.
"Well hello!" he said as I sat down next to him, but he wasn't talking to me. Before I'd realised what he was doing, he'd unhooked my bra and pulled it free. He pulled me on to his lap and began squeezing and sucking my breasts. One nipple was in his mouth, being sucked and tongued, the other was being pulled and squeezed and teased in his fingers. The pleasure was so intense that I would have forgotten to remove an article of his clothing if he hadn't reminded me before the bell rang.
"Take off my shoes," he said, and I knelt at his feet to do as he said. His shoes were new and highly polished, and I could see the reflection of my nakedness in them.
"Come back up here," he commanded, but the bell was already ringing, so I moved on to the next man in the circle, who rose as I approached him, and sat me gently down in the chair. He took off his own socks and carefully unbuckled my sandals. His gentle stroking touches on my feet would normally have tickled, but now they aroused me, sending messages of pleasure up my body to meet the pleasant memories still arousing my breasts.
From this position I could see the other people in the circle -- five couples in all. Standing astride the man I had been with first was a slim blonde-haired woman in stockings and stillettoes. He was sitting on the chair easing down her lacy black pants far enough to slip his fingers inside them.
Next to me, the older man was sucking enthusiastically on another pair of breasts, giving the same pleasure to their attractive dark-haired owner as he had given to me. As she threw back her head I admired her full breasts and large brown nipples, so unlike my own perky pink ones.
The bell rang again, and the next man round was another young man my own age. His confidence was apparent in the way he sat, legs apart, with his erect penis straining against the material of his boxers. He motioned downwards with his eyes, and stood to allow me to pull down his shorts. He sat again so that I could pull them over his feet, and then guided my mouth towards his engorged cock.
Willingly, I opened my lips and took it into my mouth, licking around the tip and down the shaft as I took more of it into my mouth. He groaned, taking a handful of my hair, and pulled me away. I resisted, hungry for more, and again he pulled me away.
"Take off your skirt."
I let my skirt fall to the ground and stood before him wearing only my plain white pants. He clearly liked what he saw, and beckoned me forwards again. I knelt when he told me to, looking forward to sucking on his cock again, but this time he rubbed it against my breasts, pushing it between them and pressing them together. He pushed faster and harder and I leant down my head so that his pounding cock was pushed into my mouth at the end of each stroke.
He groaned with frustration when the bell rang, and as I moved on I saw him putting on a condom in preparation for the dark-haired woman coming to him next.
My next partner was the therapist. He slipped off my pants and lay me down on a rug by his chair. Pushing my legs apart, he stroked the inside of my thighs, drawing nearer to my wet cunt with every touch.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked.
"Yes," I gasped, but he only smiled, and brushed around the outside of my cunt with his finger.
"You want me to fuck you now?"
"Yes. Now. Please." His finger pressed further into me, pulling out completely each time to prolong the delicious torment.
The bell rang again, but this time I hardly heard it. I was aware of the sound of people moving around, but lay with my eyes closed focusing on the pleasure coursing through me.
But my eyes soon flew open when I felt two tongues at my nipples, sucking gently at first, and then harder and harder. I pressed down on my feet to lift my pelvis up from the ground.
"Oh please. Please fuck me."
He thrust into me in a single stroke, hands grasping my buttocks tight. The blonde and dark-haired women sucked harder still, and I cried out as my orgasm began to overwhelm me. He came quickly too, and pulled out before my orgasm was over, to be quickly replaced by the first man I had been partnered with. After a few quick thrusts, he too came, pounding into me.
When I had recovered I saw that the two other women -- one with short light-brown hair, the other long and black -- were now the centre of attention. Watching them taking turns going down on one another aroused me all over again, and when the older man bent me over to fuck me from behind, I was more than ready for his attentions.
All too soon, the therapist called the end of our group therapy session, and we collected our clothes and returned to our seats. He counted back from one to ten, reminding us (or perhaps it was only me) that we would remember nothing that had happened, but retain only a sense of wellbeing and a determination to return for more therapy soon.
When the countdown had finished and we were encouraged to open our eyes and look around, I couldn't recall anything that anyone had said during the session, but the group no longer seemed like strangers to me.
"Perhaps you don't need group therapy on a regular basis," the therapist said to me as I left. "Next week we'll try a little field therapy." I noted the time in my diary, and left with a spring in my step.