The Session Where My Psychologist Learned to Obey

That morning Nuria didn’t have to go to work. A couple of weeks earlier, she had made an appointment with a psychologist someone had recommended to her, a young woman whose practice had only just opened. She thought that with a woman, and a young one at that, she would be less scandalized when she confessed certain things. Better that than some man in a jacket and tie with a bored face, one of those who listen to your confessions while imagining something else. Definitely, with the girl it would be easier to talk.

She arrived very early. The appointment was at nine, but she had already been sitting in the waiting room for fifteen minutes. To make matters worse, the only person keeping her company in that room was a mature man.

The guy was wearing light Bermuda shorts that showed off strong legs, leather sandals, an expensive shirt left open just enough to reveal his chest, and a gold chain that weighed a fair bit. He looked like a man with money. And he had a way of looking that left no room for doubt: he sized her up from top to bottom without bothering to hide it, like someone appraising merchandise. Nuria felt that familiar signal, the heat rising inside her and leaving her wet with nothing more than a crossed glance. She thought, with a hint of mockery, that maybe that man was there for the same reason she was, to ask someone whether what he had was curable.

—From what you’re telling me, Nuria, yours seems to be a case of very intense desire, maybe extreme, but nothing that can’t be solved —said the young Lorena, once inside the office.

The blonde smiled at such a quick diagnosis that, to her, was wrong. She took the opportunity to look carefully at the girl in front of her. A brunette with black eyes, just past twenty, wearing a dark skirt-and-jacket set and a white blouse buttoned just enough to contain a chest that promised to be generous.

—I think we can sort it out in three or four sessions —Lorena insisted, confident in her analysis.

That day, of course, was not going to be the real first session. The psychologist had already warned her that it would only be an initial meeting, not much time, because that morning she had to see a nearby premises she wanted to rent. Her partner, with business studies, had gotten it into her head that she should move on from that small office to something bigger, with employees and all. First they had to find the ideal place.

—Don Saúl, whenever you’re ready, we can go —Lorena said to the man, who was still at reception, watching the two women who had just come out.

On the one hand, the blonde he had shared the waiting room with minutes earlier. Don Saúl had a nose for these things, and that woman had been enough for him to classify her within ten minutes of conversation: a female who had too much heat and not enough someone to manage it. On the other, the psychologist, a beauty with a full body whom he had met through her boyfriend, who was interested in the rental. He took Lorena for a prude, but one of those who hide a volcano under a straight skirt.

—Well, Nuria, I’m off. Tomorrow I’ll call you and set up an appointment for next week. Sorry I don’t have more time today, but I arranged to meet Don Saúl to see the place.

—He can come with us if he feels like it. It’s right next door —the man offered.

—A patient’s opinion is always appreciated, right, Nuria? Coming with us? —Lorena asked, smiling.

By then, Nuria was already thinking only about being alone with that mature man and his dirty look, and she signed up immediately.

***

The premises were huge. The entrance alone was already a spacious hall, and Lorena imagined a waiting room full of patients there. There were four more rooms that would serve as offices, one of them with a bathroom. In that last one, the two women noticed a small plugged-in fridge and a cot so narrow it was hard to call it a bed.

—I sometimes bring some company here. It’s not as if I’m going to take them home with my wife —said Don Saúl, laughing without shame.

The two women smiled. Lorena, a little embarrassed; Nuria, with eyes lit up. The blonde didn’t hold back and sat on the little bed, testing the mattress with her hand.

—You must get fucked nicely here, it’s soft —she blurted out, laughing herself to death.

The three of them laughed, though Don Saúl accompanied his laugh with a discreet gesture to adjust the bulge that was beginning to swell under his Bermuda shorts.

—It’s hot in here, isn’t it? —said Lorena, trying to break the atmosphere that was forming. But with the horniness the other two were bringing, she achieved the exact opposite. Both asked her to sit down and take off her jacket. It was clear that both Nuria and Don Saúl had understood the same thing: the young psychologist had to be brought, slowly, into their territory.

—Here, next to me, pretty thing. Make yourself comfortable —the blonde told her as she stroked her neck and face.

Lorena was beginning to give in to Nuria’s hands, and Nuria knew perfectly how to turn another woman on. Don Saúl, standing in front of the two of them, limited himself to watching while he unbuttoned his shirt with calculated slowness, setting the pace, making it clear who was in charge in that room.

Let him look. Let him learn.

Nuria had been kissing Lorena’s neck and nibbling her earlobe for a while now, and Lorena, eyes closed and head thrown back, had stopped pretending. The white blouse had opened all the way. She moaned softly, surrendered, while the blonde hiked up her skirt and rubbed her sex over her underwear.

Don Saúl finished undressing. Beneath the fabric of his boxers, a considerable erection could be seen stretching the elastic. He approached without haste, took Lorena by the chin, and turned her face so she would open her eyes.

—Look at me —he ordered in a deep voice that admitted no argument.

The psychologist obeyed. And in obeying, something broke inside her: the prude she had been holding back for years stayed on the floor, with the jacket. She swallowed. Nuria felt how the brunette’s body gave way completely under her hands, how she surrendered without conditions.

—That’s it —the blonde whispered—. You don’t have to decide anything. Just let yourself go.

Lorena nodded slowly. It was the first time someone had spoken to her like that and, to her surprise, she liked it. She liked stopping being the one who diagnosed, the one who put things in order, the one who had the answers. For one morning, she liked being nothing more than a body ready and willing.

***

Within minutes the scene had changed completely. Lorena, now naked, was on all fours on the little bed, knees and hands sunk into the mattress, her back arched in a provocation she didn’t even recognize in herself. Don Saúl positioned himself behind her and started fucking her with long, deep thrusts, holding her by the hips, marking each удар like someone driving home an idea.

—Is this what you were missing? —he asked her without stopping—. Say it.

—Yes —she moaned, face pressed to the mattress—. Yes, this.

—Louder.

—Yes! —she screamed, and the word broke apart into a moan.

Nuria, kneeling on the floor, didn’t miss a thing. She stroked the brunette’s thighs, kissed the small of her back, whispered obscenities in her ear every time she saw her about to come. The blonde enjoyed it almost as much as her own pleasure: directing, heating things up, watching a woman who had come in convinced she had everything under control fall apart on all fours.

—Ask him not to stop —Nuria whispered in her ear.

—Don’t stop, please —Lorena obeyed—. Don’t stop.

Don Saúl sped up. The psychologist began to tremble, her knees gave out, and a long, uncontrolled orgasm tore through her from top to bottom while she shouted without the slightest shame, she who half an hour earlier had barely dared meet the man’s gaze. The mature man followed close behind, sinking all the way in with a hoarse growl, emptying himself inside her with several convulsions.

Then he came out slowly and let himself fall to one side, panting, with a brutally satisfied smile.

***

But Nuria wasn’t finished. The blonde sat up, licked her lips, and looked at Don Saúl with a clear idea in her eyes.

—I need to pee —he said, reading her face.

—I’ll take you —she replied, standing up and taking Lorena by the hand, the psychologist still trembling on the cot.

She dragged him into the room’s small bathroom. The psychologist, freshly fucked and still dazed, followed them without really knowing why. Don Saúl planted himself in front of the toilet, grabbed his cock, and looked at the blonde, who had already knelt on the tiled floor and was holding his gaze brazenly.

—Here? —he asked.

—Here —said Nuria, opening her mouth and throwing her head back.

Lorena, leaning against the doorframe, watched the scene with a mixture of shame and kink that kept her nailed in place. The blonde received the hot stream over her face, her neck, her chest, without moving away, moaning with pleasure, rubbing between her legs with one hand while with the other she guided the flow wherever she wanted it. For her, that wasn’t humiliation: it was power. It was being exactly what she was, with no apologies.

—Come —she told Lorena, offering a wet hand—. Don’t just stand there watching. Kneel down.

The psychologist hesitated for a second. Only one. Then she knelt beside the blonde, on the wet tiles, and let Nuria pass her tongue over her cheek, slowly, possessively, marking her as hers. When the stream ran out in a few last drops, the two women were still on their knees, pressed together, and Don Saúl looked down at them like an emperor contemplating his spoils.

—You two are a couple of filthy sluts —he said, and in his mouth it sounded almost like praise.

***

The show had gotten him hard again. Don Saúl grabbed Lorena by the hair, firmly but without hurting her, and led her back to the cot.

—Get on all fours. I’m not done with you yet.

The brunette obeyed without arguing, meek, eager. Nuria settled her back against the wall so she wouldn’t miss a thing, one hand between her legs, her eyes shining. The mature man penetrated the psychologist again, this time more slowly, savoring the absolute control he had over the two women, over the entire morning, over that empty premises that smelled of sweat and sex.

—Give it to her hard —the blonde cheered—. So she won’t forget it.

—I won’t forget it —Lorena gasped, and for the first time the phrase came out of her without anyone dictating it to her.

Don Saúl picked up the pace. The pleasure of fucking such a woman, with the other one behind him heating him up with her voice, was too much. He came a second time with a roar, and his orgasm dragged those of the two women along almost at once. Lorena collapsed onto the mattress, going through the final spasms of pleasure, legs spread wide, weak, with an idiotic smile she couldn’t fit on her face. Nuria came while watching everything from her corner, rubbing herself without shame, moaning nobody’s name.

***

A dull thud, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, made them turn their heads toward the door.

There, stretched out full length, lay Lorena’s boyfriend, fainted by the shock of what he had just seen. To one side, a bouquet of roses smashed against the floor. To the other, some papers scattered around with the heading “Rental Contract.”

Nuria, the blonde, with her face and chest still wet, her hair stuck to her skin and a smile of pure insolence, was the only one able to speak. She stood slowly, brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, and looked at the unconscious body of the newcomer with something close to tenderness.

—Have him sign the contract when he wakes up —she said—. The place is worth it.