A Need for Therapy

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by Cristiano Caffieri

Taylor Woodward was thrilled when a fellow student Ricky Stokes gave her the key to his cottage in Derbyshire.

“Go and spend a quiet week-end there,” he said, “I hardly ever use it anymore.”

Taylor, an American studying at the prestigious Cambridge University in England, hadn’t had the time to see much of the country since she’d been there. This offer seemed to be a golden opportunity. She planned to travel by bus so that she would see as many towns and villages as possible during her journey north. It was also part of her plan to mingle with the locals in this small English town with the intriguing name of Matlock Bath.

Taylor didn’t know Ricky that well. He was a bit of a goofy character, what Monte Python might describe as an upper-class twit. He suddenly appeared at her table in the cafeteria one day and ask her if she was an American. The conversation progressed from there into what she was doing for the long week-end. His offer did seem terribly generous but she had no reason to distrust him.

When she climbed on the bus for the first stage of the journey there was a rather handsome young guy with a back pack just in front of her. When she changed buses in Coventry he was there again and then when she was on the last leg of the journey from Derby to Matlock Bath he was there yet again.

On arrival in the beautiful little mountain town he got out of the bus just in front of her and she saw him drive away in a taxi. She caught the next one in the rank and when she gave the driver the address they seemed to be following the handsome stranger up a steep mountain road and both cabs pulled in front of a little stone cottage at the same time.

After paying the driver and grabbing her suitcase she took the key from her purse and was just about to walk up the path when she realized that her fellow traveler was heading for the same front door.

“Excuse me,” she said, “are you a friend of Ricky Stokes?”

“Yes, I am,” he smiled.

“Well – he told me I could use this place for the week-end,” she said, holding up the key.

He held up his key, “Me too.”

“There must be some mistake,” she protested, “we can’t both stay here.”

“Why don’t we go inside and discuss it,” he suggested. “My names Gary by the way, Gary Waites.”

He held out his hand which Taylor took cautiously.

“I’m Taylor Woodward,”

“Well Taylor Woodward, maybe we should go in – find out if we can rustle up a cup of coffee or something and we can chew over our dilemma.”

As she followed him into the cottage she was quite impressed by how nice it was inside. Gary took off into the kitchen to look for possible coffee making ingredients as she sat on the big chintz-covered sofa and marveled at the beautiful antiques that filled the little room.

After a few minutes, Gary appeared with a tray with two cups of coffee and a container of powdered creamer. As he place the tray on the coffee table he casually said,

“I’m sorry about the creamer but I guess we can get some real stuff in the morning.”

“Are you suggesting we share this place,” she retorted.

“Why not you can sleep in the bedroom and I’ll sleep out here on the sofa. It looks very comfortable,” he said, as he patted the cushions.

“I don’t know what’s going on here but it seems to me that you and Ricky Stokes could be involved in some sort of a conspiracy.”

“Well, I have to admit that Ricky is noted for his crazy practical jokes and this may be one of them. Rumor has it he once put on a disguise and posed as the Tajik Minister of Education. He not only got a royal tour of the college but they also threw a banquet in his honor. And there are other stories.”

“So you’re saying that we’re the butt of some sick joke?”

“I suspect we are.”

“Well now I’m here I’d like to stay but I really don’t want to spend the night here alone with you.”

“There’s absolutely no need to worry about me,” he assured her, “I’m impotent.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I’m impotent,” he repeated, “have been that way for over a year.”

“My God – was it some sort of accident?”

“Not really. I was madly in love with a fellow student, I mean really in love. One night at a party in front of all my friends she took off into a bedroom and fucked not one but two guys from Darwin College. It caused me so much distress I spent six months in therapy and I’ve not been able to get it up since.”

Taylor looked at the tall handsome man sitting beside her and she couldn’t believe that he was doomed to be some sort of eunuch for the rest of his life.

“What a waste of a perfectly good body,” she thought to herself.

He turned his head away from her as if ashamed of the statement he had to make and she felt compelled to put her hand on his leg to comfort him.

“It’s probably not permanent,” she said, “One day you’ll meet the right person and bingo you be back to normal.”

“I hope you’re right,” he smiled grimly, “but I’ve dated half a dozen girls in the last six months, some very attractive girls; one even put her hand inside my pants and spent a good ten minutes massaging it but there was no reaction. She was so insulted she stormed away calling me a fucking queer.

I don’t blame her really.”

“Do you find me attractive?” Taylor ventured to ask.

“You’re very attractive,” he replied, in fact, I’ve seen you several times before today and I’ve admired you from afar.”

“Where’s afar?” she asked.

“In the Library at Emmanuel.”

“Why didn’t you ever speak to me?”

“What would be the point – I’m no good to any woman in my condition,” he mumbled.

She sat back and looked him straight in his eyes.

“Gary would you mind if I tried to help you, I took a course in psychology back in the States and I know a thing or two about sexual dysfunction.”

He shook his head, “I think you’re just wasting your time.”

“Let me the judge of that,” she responded, and with that, she unzipped his pants and gently slipped her slender fingers inside.

“You shit head,” she cried, quickly withdrawing her hand, “It’s as hard as a rock, you’ve been giving me a snow job.”

“How I wished,” he sighed, with a hurt look on his face, “It does that sometimes and then after a few seconds it’s down again.”

Taylor looked in those puppy-dog eyes and decided that he could be telling the truth. She also flattered herself into thinking that she might have a little chemistry the other girls in his life didn’t have. Consequently, she slid her fingers back inside as Gary closed his eyes and murmured softly,

“Please stay up – please – please stay up.”

As she brought his penis outside of his pants she bent over and gently took it in her mouth. She half expected it to go down but if anything it got bigger and Gary was sitting bold upright with his eyes bugging out of his head. After she had skillfully worked it with her tongue for a few minutes he was so tense he was digging his fingers into the back of the sofa.

When she raised up her head and sensually moved her long hair out of her big blue eyes, he could contain himself no longer. He reached out and grabbed the front of her blouse and literally tore it off, sending the buttons scattering everywhere. This sudden impulsive move caused Taylor to become very excited and she threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately. He responded by rising to his feet and roughly lifting her up onto to the sofa. Then seeing those perfectly formed breasts pointing up at him he dropped his head and started to suck them as if he had completely lost control of himself.

Taylor was writhing all over the place in a state of ecstasy. He leaned back and proceeded to pull her skirt down revealing a very dainty pair of red panties. She helped to remove these as she couldn’t wait any longer for him to place his tongue in her flower.

When he did so she started to scream. She’d never felt a sensation quite like it before, it was as if entire body was on fire. As she pushed herself hard against his mouth she suddenly put her hands inside his shirt and tore it open as he had done with hers.

Gary struggled to get his pants and underwear off but his prize-winning erection impeded his progress. It was when she started to shout “Hurry – hurry,” that he speedily disentangled himself and with a quick thrust he penetrated her flower. Taylor’s arms shot back and hung onto the oversize cushion behind her and he grasped her wrists and held them there.

The sofa which was on castors moved backward and forwards as he bounced off of her body. Perspiration dripped from his chest and he started to grunt and groan as he made those last powerful thrusts. She screamed out loud as his cum streamed into her, and then she entwined her fingers in his hair and rained passionate kisses all over his face.

After a while, she relaxed and Gary breathing heavily lifted himself into a sitting position and gasped, “thank you, Doctor.”

Taylor suspected he was full of shit but in spite of that, she intended to keep on giving him therapy for the entire week-end. And even when she found out that the cottage actually belonged to him and that Ricky Stokes was simply a pawn in a plan to get her alone she never let on that she knew.

Copyright Cristiano Caffieri 2012

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