Dr. Cole’s Casefiles – Vanessa Pt. 06
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Session 11-The Long Session, cont’d
Sometimes, within the web of human affairs, equal amounts of melancholy and sweetness can mingle. The combination can imbue a situation with poignancy sufficient to bring tears both of joy and grief. Strange, perhaps, but I’ve found it to be true. In the same sense as “the having is not as pleasing as the wanting,” both ideas inform us about reality. The latter emphasizes the difference between perception and truth and the former, the recognition of truth when we see it. Vanessa and I made love that last time in full knowledge of the truth of our relationship.
She had captivated me from the first moment I saw her in my office. Exceptionally pretty in the blonde-haired All American Girl way, clean, well-kept, and polite. Her bright brown eyes, such a lovely contrast with her naturally yellow hair, shone with interest and humor, as if she would be a perfect companion for a lively conversation.
Her body told another tale altogether. As luscious as a tropical rainforest, and as fully capable of summoning explorers, her full and curvy figure defined opulent womanhood. And she moved with a grace that implied availability with a subtlety rarely seen in these days of overbearing loudness. My mouth watered whenever I looked at her or even thought about her. Visions of her walking toward me naked, breasts bouncing, pink nipples erect, a sacrificial offering to all acts of carnality, but with a predatory gleam in her eyes that let one know the consuming of bodies would be mutual. As I say, these visions filled my mind, interfering with my concentration whether in or out of her actual presence.
And that is how things worked out. I wanted her and she wanted me, but I was her psychiatrist and “look but don’t touch” ruled the day. But, not being a completely earthly creature, she swept aside mere rules of human professional behavior, leaving them broken in her wake. She seduced me and we entered the realm of mutual ecstasy for nearly two days. By the end, I had the information that I needed to provide her answers and she had actionable advice. I had enjoyed her body, metaphorically consuming it in every possible way, as she had mine. But far more importantly, our souls had mingled, and I would never forget our moment in the sun.
Fully aware of the portentous nature of our eventual last embrace, I stood up and put out my hand, beckoning the delightful piece of sweetness known as Vanessa Fontaine. She had been lying on the couch in the living room of my house, telling me of the consummation of her relationship with Aaron Wilson, the first man in her life and the first person with whom she had fallen in love. The sweet, dream-like, and damn hot story had excited me. All day we had both worn nothing but thin bathrobes, ostensibly because Vanessa’s clothes needed washing. In reality, we wanted easy access to each other’s body. Throughout this time, starting with last night, she reached places in her story where the sexual event she described heated us both up to the boiling point. At those moments, we appreciated the ease of access the robes provided.
I knew the end approached. She had told me this day would be it and the day was nearly over. True, we might have the rest of the night, but the goal was treatment and resolution of her problem, not the satiety of our carnal appetites. At this last sad but dulcet moment, I didn’t fling open her robe and immediately bury my face between her shapely legs so she could grab my head and rock her hips and scream when her orgasm struck. No, this time an offer was gently made and gently accepted. We lay on my bed, kissing and caressing for many minutes. I ran my hands slowly over her warm flesh and gazed at her sumptuous body while she whispered words of appreciation for my dark and petite beauty.
In the times before, we had traded service; one of us “did” the other, the other responded, and then we “went sixty-nine.” This time, we continued kissing and caressing, finally rubbing each other to ultimate pleasure as we lay face to face. I had thought nothing could be sweeter than the taste of her womanly nectar, but that moment was, that mingling of two souls for the last time. We hugged each other. When the moment passed, we kissed.
I said, “‘La petite mort’.”
She stroked my cheek and asked, “What does that mean?”
I answered, “It’s a French euphemism for orgasm. It translates as ‘The little death’.”
Something in the phrase struck her. Her eyes smoldered. She quoted Othello in a hoarse whisper, “‘To die upon a kiss,'” and trailed down my body leaving love bites along the way.
I remembered her describing a time when Judith and Karen covered her body with hickeys and how it had excited her. Now, I had to agree. Sex, especially oral sex, is a kind of consuming, an eating of another’s body. When performed on a woman, it’s literally called “eating pussy.” We often think of another attractive person as ‘delicious’ kocaeli escort bayan or say ‘yum’ when we see him or her. I found this leaving evidence of her eating my body one step beyond metaphorical, and it caused my cunt to drip.
I rose to my elbows and viewed the trail she left from my tits to my pussy. I couldn’t see the marks on my neck, but I did see the rest. Two on each breast, several on my tummy, and three on each of my thighs. From her position, with her face inches from my cunt, she met my gaze.
She didn’t smile. We had already satisfied our mutual need for tender love. Now was the time for lust. Her feral, predatory look told me I was her prey. I spread my legs wide, obedient to her silent demand, a willing sacrifice to her voracious carnality. She licked her lips and then sucked my labia into her mouth, as if she intended to drain my juices, she a sexual vampire and me a very noninnocent victim.
She never took her eyes from mine as her head moved with the subtle motions of her feeding. She let go of my pussy lips and extended her long tongue, wagging it at me and then running it up and down my slit several times before piercing my womanhood with it. Her mouth flat against my cunt, her tongue inches deep, she used it to rub the ventral wall of the inside of my pussy, doing her best to reach my G-spot. My eyes popped and I jerked when she found it.
I wanted to grab her head but that would require me to lie back and break our gaze and that I would not do. Her tongue probing my pussy nearly drove me wild, but her eyes bonding with my soul enraptured me.
My eyes got wider and her tongue got livelier. My breath grew short and grunts issued from my throat unsummoned. She placed a hand on my tummy, just above my slit and rubbed my bud with her thumb. She ran her other hand up to my breast and pinched my nipple, hard. My lips formed a grimace and my brow furrowed. A sensation so intense I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain radiated outward from my nub through my body. A powerful spasm wracked my body. I screamed, loud, primal, incoherent, as I quaked.
The sensation took several moments to pass and, when it did, I dropped back, exhausted. Vanessa slid up the bed. Spit dripped down her chin and fragrant female nectar glistened in a wide circle area around her lips. I licked her face with a greedy passion and placed my open mouth on hers, entwining our tongues. Breathless, I broke the kiss, stroked her cheek, and said, “‘To die upon a kiss’ indeed. I think my heart stopped for a moment.”
She smiled and grazed my nipples with her fingertips. The dreamy, sleepy look of contentment gradually faded. I sensed hesitation in her. She sighed and said, “Are you ready to continue? I’m almost done with my story. Then you’ll have to suggest the best thing for me to do.” She kissed me on the lips. It felt like a farewell.
I nodded. “Do you want a shower, first?”
She nodded but didn’t move. She couldn’t meet my eyes as she said, “And, I guess, we should get dressed. Are my clothes still in the dryer?”
Of course, that meant no more sex. I knew it was coming. She had told me this day would be it. I thought I would be ready for it, but it had been such a beguiling experience, beautiful beyond my ability to describe. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. It must have been contagious, because she cried, too. We lay there and held each other while we sobbed. What seemed like hours later, but in reality just moments, I sniffed and said, “You get in the shower. I’ll fetch your clothes.”
Vanessa took longer in the bathroom than me. I laid out her clothes, halter top dress, stockings, shoes and went to my living room to wait. Actually, I called it the “living room” as do many in the South, but the rest of the country would probably call it the den or the family room, reserving the name “living room” for a smaller one with more expensive furniture that never got used.
As I often do, I stood at my window and stared out. My subdivision outside Forrestburg, about eighty miles north of the coastal town of Beauchamp, abuts a national forest. I like to watch the trees that I can see over my privacy fence. During the day, squirrels scurry about, twitching their noses and swishing their bushy tails. At night, it’s raccoons. I find them less cute but more interesting than the squirrels. They seemed more intelligent, more focused, more logical in their search for food. Everyone in the neighborhood has special trash bins with heavy, spring-loaded tops, intended to foil scavengers, but that doesn’t stop those persistent bandits from trying.
I raised my eyes. The sun sat low in the sky. The year waned and the days shortened. Soon darkness would descend. I shrugged off my encroaching melancholy and turned when I heard the swish of Vanessa’s stocking-clad thighs. She wasn’t fat by the standards of those days. No, indeed. Opulent, ample, juicy, of course, but izmit escort bayan not fat.
I smiled, a bit wanly perhaps, and extended my open hand to the couch, inviting her to lie down. Last night, this morning, and this afternoon, she would have greeted me with a kiss while we felt each other up. The seemingly endless therapy session would not have resumed until we could pull ourselves apart. But this was early evening and the past was the past. We were back to strictly doctor and patient.
Would the memories fade? I doubted it. Vanessa was unique. Everything about her seemed exaggerated. Her sexy prettiness, her skill in the act of love, her complete abandonment of inhibition in bed, her childlike ability to trust and the way it inspired devotion to her in others, as if the thought of hurting her was too abhorrent to contemplate. No, I would not forget. I resigned myself to the torment of constantly remembering the feel of her silky skin, the sparkling of her hair in the sunlight, the firmness of her large breasts, the sweet taste of her nectar, the sound of her screams as her body rocked from a powerful orgasm.
I sighed as she settled on the couch. She darted her eyes to me, but said nothing. She always waited for me to begin.
I said, “I believe we stopped with you describing your first time on Aaron’s yacht and what happened. Amazing, really. From that trip, you not only rekindled a sexual interest in men, but practically got your entire future laid out in front of you and it included much happiness and fulfillment. Then Judith somehow reappeared and started the trouble that eventually led you to me. Would you like to pick it up from there?”
She said, “Yes. Like you said, I thought I was set. Aaron and I were in love. The apartment his company provided was great. The building was across the highway from the beach. My apartment was on the top floor, the sixth. The sixth floor was special because it was divided into only two apartments instead of four. That way both flats had a beach view. It provided as much living space as a small house and was fully furnished. Well, I guess it would have to be, given its stated purpose to be housing for traveling business contacts.
“Aaron brought me back to Sharon’s the day we got in from our voyage. It was a Friday and close to dark. Mobile was only an hour away and it only took about fifteen minutes to pack up my stuff and put it into my car. He waited outside by my open trunk.
“Sharon asked, ‘Where’re you going? What’s your hurry?’
“I had to tell her everything, but I made short work of it. I said, ‘Look, I don’t have a lot of time, but I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow. The short version is that Aaron and I are in love, he’s hired me to work for his company, and as part of my pay he’s putting me into one of his company’s apartments over in Port City. But he’s waiting outside for me and I gotta go.’
“Sharon was dumbstruck. I dropped my bags and hugged her tight. ‘I owe you more than I can say. Thank you. I promise, I’ll call, either tonight or tomorrow and we’ll talk as long as we can.’ I kissed her lips, you know, not sexual but like girls do sometimes. Now I never saw men do it, but girls can do all sorts of things because we don’t have that stupid manly ego, right?”
She was obviously trying to lighten my mood, and I should have let her. But I knew that I had to remain stoic and disinterested if I were to get through this. I nodded.
Vanessa continued, “Well, Aaron helped me get my things up to the apartment. We ordered some food for delivery and I unpacked while we waited for it. That was about ten months ago. Aaron didn’t move in. He still lives on “Selene” when he’s not traveling and he doesn’t usually spend the night. Most nights when he’s in town, he comes by for dinner and we nearly always make love afterwards and then he leaves. I’ve asked him to sleep there with me a few times and he’s always done it.”
I asked, “Did you ever ask him why he didn’t move in with you?”
She nodded. “About four months ago. He said he wasn’t ready yet and I left it alone.”
I asked, “And you didn’t feel as if anything was wrong?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really have a frame of reference. He’s my first relationship with a man. I’m as soft and loving as I know how to be. He always calls before coming over, just to make sure I don’t have other plans. I joke about him being the only plan of mine that counts and he laughs. I make sure my hair and makeup are done before he gets there. Sometimes I wear a sexy dress and lingerie, some of the things that Judith bought me, sometimes a fancy negligee, sometimes just a robe, but always something that means I want to have sex and I want to be appealing. He’s never failed to respond.”
I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “That’s good. A happy and vigorous sex life is necessary for a satisfying longterm relationship. Do you ever go out? Dancing? Restaurants?”
She gebze escort shook her head. “He’s asked, but I think it’s more to please me. He’s a homebody. I told him, ‘I’m a homebody, too, only so long as your body’s home.’ He really liked that. I have so much room, we can turn on music and dance there. We do sometimes. We both like to cook. Sometimes we order out. I tried my best to keep a low profile. I didn’t want Judith to find me.
“But we do frequently get out of the house. We take “Selene” out to the islands, like I already described. Chandelier’s our favorite spot.”
I probed, “So, you don’t feel the need to mingle with other people?”
She shrugged. “I’ve invited Sharon over a few times. And Aaron sees people when he travels. He drives over to his office in New Orleans several times a month. But he accomplishes most of his work on the telephone in his office on “Selene.” His assistant lives in Beauchamp near the harbor.”
I asked, “And that doesn’t bother you?”
She laughed. “No. He was kidding about her being a young model. She’s in her forties, at least thirty pounds overweight, and frumpy as all hell. But she adores him and works like a mule. I’m not worried.”
I said, “I see. Well, when and how did Judith make her reappearance?”
She frowned. “August. It would be. South Mississippi only has two real seasons, summer and August. Hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell. The damn heat gave me an even better excuse to stay indoors. It’s not so bad when you’re on the boat and the breeze is moving. How people can stand to sit on the beach and bake I do not understand. I know a certain amount of sunlight is good for you, helps with your vitamin D and all, but it’s like people don’t realize that a sunburn is a radiation burn. No thanks.
“Anyway, I always worked at home. Aaron was traveling that week, so I had planned to have Sharon take a day off from her job and come visit with me. Or I could go there. It didn’t matter. It was a Monday and I was waiting for six o’clock when I knew she’d be home. At five there was a knock on the door. I opened it and there she was. Judith, not Sharon.
***
Observer mode.
***
Vanessa’s eyes bulged and her mouth gaped. The tall and slender dominatrix didn’t wait to be invited. She just strolled in. Surprise paralyzed the lovely blonde.
Judith said, “Aren’t you happy to see me, pet?”
Vanessa blurted, “How did you find me?”
Judith said, “Manners, girl. Aren’t you going to invite me to sit?”
Vanessa snapped out of her daze. “You’re not welcome, Judith. I don’t want you here. Leave, please.”
The dominatrix said, “You disappoint me, girl. That’s no way to welcome your mistress.”
“You’re not my mistress. I left you.”
“But my sweet, juicy morsel, a slave can’t sever the relationship. Only the mistress can do that. I haven’t and I don’t intend to, ever.”
Panic made Vanessa emphatic. “I don’t give a shit about your damn dominance games, lady. It is OVER. LEAVE. NOW”
Judith put a brown manila envelope on the coffee table. “I’ll leave. But first, you really should look in that envelope.”
As if the paper pouch were a snake, Vanessa recoiled. “What’s in it?”
A wicked grin curled the beautiful burnette’s lips, projecting the streak of cruelty that Vanessa knew about and feared. “Why, pictures, my sweet morsel. Of you. You’re very photogenic. If you were thinner, not that I’d want that, you’re delicious just as you are, but if you were thinner, you could easily get work as a model. Especially for a particularly graphic men’s magazine.”
Vanessa’s hands shook as she reached for the envelope. She opened it and pulled out several eight by ten photographs. One was of Karen performing cunnilingus on her on the bed in Judith’s play room. Vanessa wore flesh-toned thigh stockings and strappy high heels, nothing else. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, obviously moaning. She was propped up on one elbow and her other hand held Karen by the head.
In the next photograph, she was kissing Karen’s pussy while Judith fucked her from behind with a strap-on. The others were of her dressed similarly in a variety of acts with Judith and some of her clients. One was a lesbian foursome. All were in color and highly detailed. The camera used had been of good quality.
The pictures slipped from Vanessa’s shaking hands. She looked at Judith, fear marring her lovely face.
Judith said, “Now, pet, would you like to talk with me for a few minutes?”
In a small voice, Vanessa asked, “How much?”
Judith raised an eyebrow. “Money? Do you think I want money from you?”
Vanessa said, “What else could you want?”
“The return of my property, my sweet. I want my fertility goddess back with me. Actually, I should think you’d be flattered.”
Vanessa stood. Fury blazed from her countenance. “You must be crazy. You think you can blackmail me into going back to Forrestburg to be your whore again? No way. No fuckin’ way. I’m nothing but a thing to you. When I realized that, I left as soon as I could. No fuckin’ way I’m goin’ back. Fuck you, bitch.” She closed her hands into fists, ready to physically fight.
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