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Sex Story



It was probably an inauspicious moment for Regina Bouchet, M.S.W., Ph.D., and Edward Thompson, M.S.W., Ph.D., to arrive almost concurrently at the whirlpool in the health club of the upscale, albeit temporarily disadvantaged hotel. She had just learned that the young man to whom she'd given her first of a countless number of blowjobs fifteen years ago had been killed in Operation Desert Storm. He had just received a phone call from his ex who had divorced him more than five years ago wishing him a happy belated birthday and briefly explaining why she'd left him. This time he listened and understood.

Unbeknownst to either of them the day could have been even worse if some of the hotel's plumbing hadn't burst. Had it not, they would both at this moment be arguing their theories in front of five or six hundred colleagues from around the world. But these and other recent trying events had them both at a nexus.

All of Ed's published articles had promoted a sexuality that in essence said: sex for its own physical sake, in whatever form, given that it provided pleasure and climax and that it didn't involve coercion or violence was OK. The emphasis here being on "its own physical sake." His research rested on the bedrock of the purity of physical function, not mental. Ergo, in his writings "aberrant" sexuality could even include fantasy, the mind exploring things other than the pure physical contact of the act with another person.

Representing the antithetical view would be Regina's canon. Her published research had shown that any sexual indulgence, given that the participants were consenting adults and no physical or mental harm was involved, was acceptable behavior. This would encompass fantasies, multiple participants, playful control, masturbation, and even what many would consider fetishes.

It would have been a lively but tense session. Instead, both were now questioning their own fundamental beliefs upon which much of their studies had been subconsciously based. Through the events and recollections of the past few days individually both had begun to question virtually everything they had ever discovered about their own sexuality, in their relationships, and in their research.

After the brisk seven or eight mile run she'd come back feeling concurrently refreshed from the run and exhausted from the emotional hit. She hadn't seen him or even had any correspondence in fifteen years. Nevertheless discovering he'd recently died at the age of 36 in Iraq was too much to grasp. After crying for some time lying on the sofa in her suite she realized she needed to do something, to be out among other people.

Still in her running gear, she stretched, showered, and decided to go for a soak in the health club's whirlpool. She pulled a one-piece swimsuit out of her suitcase, stepped into it and looked at herself in the mirror. She'd learned years ago that wearing a one-piece suit would make her somewhat less conspicuous than any alternative. Bikinis simply couldn't contain her. Bandeau style or bra-styles were limited in her size, but she always felt like she was simply walking around in her overly large cupped bra and panties. She laughed, recalling a recent trip to look at bathing suits. The saleswoman had suggested a two-piece. Since the store had a selection of mix-and-match tops and bottoms she agreed to at least try one. Looking at herself in the dressing room mirror was a bit bizarre: On her thin, lithe, body, she had on a tiny, string bikini bottom which barely covered her pubic area in front and covered less of her firm butt, the entire bottom being a few square inches of material connected to some dental floss. But, her eyes moving up from her slim hips, there was this contraption of wire, cloth, and a fancy hasp, each cup probably a square foot of material, covering a majority of her torso. Though in a discreet floral pattern, it made her appear even more top-heavy than a bra and panties, perhaps because the bottom was even smaller than her everyday panties.

Since the hotel was full of her colleagues, looking as staid as possible was her goal. After all, this was not a mission for satisfying her sexual desires, it was a way to relax from the pressure of the conference and the painful memories of loss of a long past love. She hoped to get as few looks as possible.

It seemed that most of the other psychologists, suddenly having the afternoon to themselves, opted for sightseeing as the health club was almost empty. Before she could even get to the door of the glass walled spa area, a hotel waitress was next to her asking if she'd like something to drink. Having given her order she pushed open the spa's glass door and looked around.

Though most of the facility was lined with mirrors and was essentially in the interior of the hotel, the spa area had solid wall of windows looking out across the street at the park from three or four stories up. Regina climbed the stairs to the whirlpool finding only one other soul in the entire spa.

Edward Thompson, halfway through his second gin and tonic, was staring out across the street, his back to Regina's arrival. She was thankful for this brief moment of privacy as so often upon entering a room her physique would turn heads as conversation would ebb. His back still to her, she removed the heavy terry hotel robe, pulled out a scrunchee and fastened her hair up on top of her head.

"Hello," she said as she dipped a toe in the bubbling, steaming water.

Deeply involved in his thoughts about Penny's phone call and the suddenness of his now unanchored life, Ed didn't even look up. "Hi," he grunted out.

Regina also in new emotional territory would normally be feeling self-conscious after removing her robe in public. At this moment though, concern about people's stares was below her awareness threshold. In fact, abandoning any thoughts of her appearance, she simply took one step into the whirlpool, decided it was not too hot, and dunked herself in up to her neck.

She took a seat around from Ed, but still with a view of the park. Neither of them said anything or even looked away from the view until the waitress arrived with Regina's drink. Thanking the server, she reached up for the glass, took a sip and allowed the trendy, ice-cold vodka to flow into her bloodstream.

Feeling a little awkward at their silence and attempting to erase her current self-centered depression by some social contact, Regina, assuming he was also a therapist, asked him, "So, where do you practice?"

Surprised out of his reverie and feelings of self-loathing, Ed decided some socializing might be useful, too. Turning to the female who had entered the pool surreptitiously, he said, "I'm in the Boston area. You?"

"I live in Manhattan and practice there, but I consult a bit so I'm on the road a couple times a month." After a brief pause during which they both sipped their drinks, she continued, "My name's Regina, and you are?"

"You aren't Regina Bouchet, are you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, do I know you?"

Suddenly feeling like the air had been let out of his tires, he responded candidly, "Dr. Bouchet, your work has been the omega to my alpha for nearly a decade. Every sentence I have written has been in reproach in your writing. I am Edward Thompson. How do you do?"

"Well, Mr. Thompson, the pen may be mightier than the sword, but it may also be double-edged. You have contradicted every one of my findings in your publications, too," she responded, feigning a stern determination to get even. After a few seconds of that facial expression, she smiled, actually buoyed by his presence. While she could not understand the way he arrived at the conclusions in many of his articles she respected his writing and his methodology. In addition, given her depressing news of the afternoon, it was a good feeling to be with an esteemed, if wrong headed, colleague.

Raising her glass in a toast she said "Cheers."

Similar thoughts were running through his slightly alcohol-infused brain as he clinked her glass, "Cheers to you too."

Fifteen minutes later each well through his and her third drink, they were getting along well and even letting bygones be bygones as far as their publications were concerned. The conversation had turned to sexuality and the internet.

"So, this website actually lets people discuss fantasies? They're not true stories?" he asked, his inhibitions now history, his focus on this lovely and brilliant 30-something, fascinating female therapist.

"That's what's so exciting about it. You just don't know. Some of these people could be telling only the biggest lies ever, just goofin' on those chatting. Others, and I assume the majority, are honest and hope that the others are too. Of course, there's always some humorous banter and sometimes self-deprecating anecdotes, but in general most people share their intimacies in the safety of anonymity with 'well-known strangers.'"

Ed considered this for a moment and finally acknowledged his current state. He began, "My ex-wife called me today, or all days, to wish me a happy birthday. I haven't spoken with her in years. Then she briefly told me why the marriage failed. You know, it's so much harder to deal with when a member of our community, colleagues whose careers are dedicated to unlocking mysteries and miseries of the mind, can't make a marriage work." After a deep sigh, he continued, "It was my fault. It was always my rigidity. I needed to have sex be exciting for itself, not for the fantasies surrounding it. To me, in my personal space, I think I was always afraid of that. And that has been my Waterloo."

"Well, Dr. Thompson," she responded, "it's not unique to you. Let me tell you what's been running through my mind this very day."

Regina proceeded to tell him about Mark, her first love, but then she stopped the tale suddenly. Realizing that the alcohol was making her lips looser than they were after a night at a glory hole party, she came to her senses.

"Anyway, he was my first real boyfriend. It's been more than fifteen years, but I'm really devastated by learning of his death," she finished her thought. Yet, the memories of Mark and her ensuing endless stream of lovers, lines of cocks, and streams of cum made her suddenly horny and wanting Ed. She was as confused as he was, each in a different way, but feeling at sea, nevertheless.

Between the alcohol and the hot water, both decided to get out and sit on the edge of the whirlpool. With her inhibitions depleted Regina unthinkingly put her hands on the lip behind her and pushed up slowly to extract herself from the pool. Edward, suddenly seeing her chest for the first time above the water was shocked. She had the largest pair of tits he'd ever seen yet her body was tight with a small waist and slim, strong, sylphic hips. It was a sight to behold.

As she scrutinized him for the first time, she saw a fit well-built man with a nice smile and a great, if sometime poorly directed, brain. It took her awhile to notice that he was staring at her boobs. And when she did, rather than attempting to hide them, she straightened her back thrusting out her breasts, just slightly, daring him, in her mind at least, to get an erection.

Involved in this sudden game of cocks and boobs, neither realized they were very much in synch, both in need, both lonely, both horny.

Regina felt the need to discuss some of her past, but didn't want him to know her that well just yet. After some more conversing about some patients, she continued, "So when she came to me she explained that her boyfriend could not understand, but was trying to hold on to the relationship. You see, though she enjoyed vaginal intercourse and even anal intercourse, she derived the bulk of her pleasure from sucking him."

"And you didn't feel it was a mistaken attempt to satisfy her ego, by returning to an earlier oral stage in her development?"

"Ed, to tell you the truth, I was impressed by the certainty of this young woman. She was kind, loving, compassionate, intelligent, and cared about her boyfriend. She didn't want to seek out other men, but he was so put off by her desire for fellatio, it eventually caused the demise of the relationship."

Finding himself getting very aroused by her attractive smile, her long lean legs and her gravity defying breasts, his erection began to grow even more and he knew there was no way to hide it. He too threw caution to the wind and let it all hang out, his erection pointing skyward out and above his shorts.

Knowing the effect all of this was having on him and enjoying every minute of it, she continued telling him stories, ostensibly about this particular patient with the oral fixation. "And one day she told me about a bukkake party she attended."

"Isn't that a form a sexual debasement involving semen originated in Japan?"

"Originally, yes. But this was a variation that she controlled. She and a close woman friend, also very orally fixated, organized a party. They required all of the invitees to have health checks, sign waivers, and some other legal and medical items, but it was, from what she explained to me, very safe. Her friend arranged the event at a private home far in the country, an estate on more than 700 acres.

"Well, I don't want to discuss all of the details, but –"

"Please, I find this fascinating," Ed interrupted. "Where is that waitress?" he then asked, craning his head.

When she realized it was simply an excuse for him to enjoy looking at her body she felt a warmth between her legs and her nipples hardened. "So, I, I, I mean, she or they, actually, had more than one hundred men attend this affair. The two women had a variety of glasses, cups, spoons, straws, and other items with which to catch their invitees' ejaculates. In addition, they both had favorite foods and drinks that they felt complimented semen. These had all been pre-stocked in the well-appointed home."

Ed felt he might have an orgasm just by listening to this story. The briefest hint of memory of his work and its pitfalls shot through some place in his brain. Then he realized that he was not locked into one view of human sexuality, he could continue to do research and develop alternate theories as new research might possibly show. This insight permitted him to put these thoughts to rest and refocus on Regina, her beautiful body, her pretty face, and her very erotic tale. Who was this patient? Had he ever worked with someone this sexually aware? He returned to her story.

"-between them. And they were in control of the event: their sex, their orgasms."

"So what do you feel is the main issue? Is it that they needed to have multiple partners who supported their 'perversions' or is it something else?" he asked, fascinated, excited, and beginning to fantasize about meeting a woman like this. He'd never really had too many blowjobs. Most of his sex was standard fare missionary position. Ellie had given him that blowjob the last time he'd seen her. Yet, he wound up with a mouthful of his own semen suddenly with all eyes upon him under a spotlight in front of a wedding party. This mental movie was far from an Academy Award in his mind's "best oral sex" category.

"They both enjoyed sucking men and most of all they enjoyed semen. It excited them and they both enjoyed their largest and most satisfying orgasms just from giving head and from tasting and sipping semen.

"Of course, I recommended that she might find even more happiness with one partner who fulfilled her emotionally as well as sexually. But she complained that except for a few rare men, most were uncomfortable with her voracious sexuality. And those few, for lack of a more genteel way of putting it, just couldn't come enough to satisfy her oral sexual desires."

Regina had hoped that this tale in which she was clearly telling of herself was not as transparent to him as it sounded to her. She was enjoying getting to know this colleague and he, though like every other man could not stop his eyes from roving over her body, seemed to be seriously interested in her. He was sweet, funny, a good listener, and, in truth, she was having a hard time keeping her eyes off his body, especially the tent pole under his swim trunks.

"So is she still a patient?"

"She phones me every so often, just to take a bearing, I think."

"If she found Mr. Right, a man who was sincere and loved her, do you think she'd know it?"

"If he could also keep her supplied with enough fresh semen a few times a day," she laughed, "probably so. I hope she does. It's lonely when you're not with a partner." The loss and ensuing sadness from her memories of Mark reminded her suddenly of her own loneliness momentarily, but she was able quickly to suppress it.

"I'll second that," he added. Then after a few moments reflection, he was about to ask her the name of the chat room she'd mentioned earlier, but stopped himself. In truth, Edward was a techno-geek, having brought his digital camera, his MiniDV camera, his laptop, cell phone, mp3 player, as well as his PDA with him to England on this trip. He liked this woman and didn't want to scare her with his geekier side.

Both were warmed and put at ease by the alcohol, the heat of the pool, and the friendly and relaxed conversation. The room was empty. Across the way, the park was lit by small lights that appeared through the misted windows almost like stars in the cold, dark evening. Between Ed and Regina, though, there was a warmth of a new and unexpected friendship along with a more than just a spark of excitement.

They both confessed to being slightly drunk, very comfortable, and quite tired. It was unsaid but obvious that this first encounter was coming to an end.

While Edward thought he'd stay seated poolside, keeping his pulsing dick somewhat contained under his swim trunks, Regina arose and casually threw her robe over her half-naked body, her breasts moving to their own rhythm. She was glad to have the robe and especially glad that her bathing suit was still wet. It kept the wetness in the crotch from being noticeable.

After saying their farewells, she walked through the entry door and stopped. Turning around, she clearly enunciated the words "A pleasure," and did a very sexy and slow air kiss, all pucker.

Ed was glad he hadn't been expected to stand at her departure.

(Continued)