Therapist's Therapy Part IV

Okay.

Today's the day.

I brushed my teeth twice this morning because I forgot that I had already brushed it once...the first time.

Don't judge me.

I'm not usually even like this.

I don't wear very much make-up; mascara is the extent of my 'make-up expertise,' but today, I applied eyeliner and lip gloss. Not too much lip gloss though, because...well...you know.

Also, my lips are already pretty plush, compliments of my Caribbean descent. However, I'd like to saunter in there with all the important parts popping. My lips are very important parts.

Also, I'm nervous. And I am not a nervous person. There are people who get on my nerves, but no one makes me nervous. I'm wearing a fucking dress for Christ's sake!

But whatever.

It's whatever...

So...okay.

Today's the day.

I waltz into his office waiting room.

Belle winks at me.

"How are you, Love?" She greets me

I shrug, "fine."

"Is that lip gloss?" She asks.

Of course she notices; she has a crush on me.

"Yes it is," I answer not being able to help my knowing smirk.

"Wow," she says stepping closer to me, "It really does great things for your lips."

"Thank you."

"Of course," she says, stepping closer.

"Is that...is that perfume?" She asks, leaning into my neck.

"You're awfully observant today, Belle," I say turning my head to expose my neck.

"Do you like that I'm observant?" She asks, pulling her head back a bit to look into my eyes.

Ooooh shit. "I-"

"Nichelle," Naz calls. Saved by the bell.

I step back from Belle's hypnosis, "Yep. That would be me!" I answer Naz.

My voice is a little too high pitched, so I clear my throat and try again, "Yes."

He smirks, "follow me."

I start walking in his direction, but I made the mistake of turning around; she blows me a kiss.

I swear she is getting more and more bold, with every visit.

"Have a seat," Naz says as I enter his office.

I don't want to have a seat.

"I do not want to play games," I state. Well, I don't want to play his games. Mine are much better. With my games, things end up going my way. If only I could stop thinking so much...

He doesn't answer me.

"Naz." I say his name with conviction.

"Yes?" He answers, stepping closer to me, with his hands in his pockets.

We stare at one another.

He tilts his head, "Did you have a question?"

"Yes," my palms are sweating. This is ridiculous.

"And what might that be?"

He's playing with me. He's just feeding off of my nervous energy, that of which will increase if he gets any closer. I need to get my shit together.

"Where did we leave off last week?" I ask, trying to be nonchalant and gauging how he'll answer this question. I know what he wants; He expects me to beg for us to pick back up where we left off physically last week. And I mean, I'd love for us to do so, but on my terms.

He squints and nods as if to say, 'I see what you're doing.'

"We left off," he starts walking towards me, "talking about what attracts you...to me."

"Really? Is that where we ended? I recall us talking about why it was so important for you to hear me say why I am attracted to you."

"Well-"

"-Infact..." I start, cutting him off. I trail my fingers up his chest, before continuing, "you were having a hard time telling me why you needed to hear it." I drop my fingers, and take a couple of steps back, still maintaining eye contact.

Then I take the seat he initially told me to take upon us walking into his office. I cross my legs and say, "Tell me, Naz. Why do you like hearing me say how attracted to you I am?"

There she is. There's that bravado I've been looking for all morning.

"Nichelle, this isn't about me."

"No?"

"No."

"So it's about me?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Great, then I'd like to know more about you. I think that it'll be incredibly therapeutic for my progression, as your patient...and as an individual, of course." I shrug nonchalantly.

He lets a small laugh escape those sinful lips, likely acknowledging that things aren't going to go his way today. Then he licks his lips. Jesus. "What is it that you'd like to know?" He asks.

"Why do you need..." I drag the word as I'm preparing to emphasize the fact that I am repeating my initial question, "to hear, why I am attracted to you?"

"It is a part of the therapeutic process. It's my job to ask these questions. You realize that, don't you?"

I tilt my head, "Bullshit." I say the words with a sense of ease. A newfound comfort.

He looks away, paces to the window, and then back in front of me, "must you make everything so difficult?" He asks now.

I smile, leaning forward in my chair, "You think this is difficult?"

He doesn't answer.

"I think you like it," I conclude for him.

He crosses his arms.

I lean back in my chair, "now, you were just about to answer my question."

He stares at me.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, I would just like to answer the question appropriately."

I smirk, "right, of course. Take your time."

He shakes his head, "I need to hear it...I need to hear how I make you feel because..."

"because...?"

"Because it does something to me." He seems to be struggling with his words. Perhaps I'll help him along a bit.

"What does it do to you, Naz? I need you to elaborate."

He looks at me. But this look is threatening. Not violently threatening, just a silent warning, if you will. He's not going to say that I'm pushing it, but he wants me to know. It's a promise for later. His eyes speak their own language and I happen to be fluent in it.

I smile in return, because I absolutely love what I'm doing to him.

"Nichelle," he starts, "you're entering territory," he walks closer to me, "that does not hold the ability," he is much closer now, "for you to turn around." He kneels in front of me.

"What if I don't want to turn around?"

He leans in, looking at my lips, but I lean back, "aht aht," I admonish him, gently. "you haven't answered the question."

He smirks, "Nichelle," my name is a whisper...a prayer on his lips.

"Yes?" I answer.

"You do not play fair."

I throw my head back in laughter, "Is that right?"

He nods, "mmhmm." He trails his finger from my lips, down my neck to right above my left nipple.

"Well things will get a lot easier for you if you just answer the question," I state simply. He's clearly trying to avoid the question.

"If you must know..."

"I must."

"I need that reassurance. I need to hear you say you want me because I want to be wanted."

I shrug, "that's not so bad. We're human. We all want to be wanted."

He shakes his head, "No, I need to hear it from you. If any other woman said they wanted me, it would mean absolutely nothing. But when you say it?" He shrugs, like it's no big deal, "I want to devour you."

Oh.

Oh wow.

I'm rendered speechless.

Suddenly he grabs my ass and pulls me to the edge of the chair, sliding his fingers up my leg, and slowly pulling my panties off, all while maintaining eye contact.

I glance at the clock, "Wait...is there enough time?" The nerves are returning.

He places each leg on the chair-arms, answering with a simple, "of course," and with that, he buries his head under my dress.

His tongue starts dancing with my clit, and my back arches off the damn chair in response. He sucks and kisses and licks until I begin seeing stars. My hand instinctively grabs his head, for encouragement, "don't stop," I beg.

He moans in response and the vibration of that low timber in his voice against my clit, makes my whole body jerk; I feel him smile in between his lingual caressing.

I am already so close. Little noises escape my throat because GODDAMN this man knows what he's doing.

I'm breathing heavier, my moans are growing in pitch and his tongue is simply relentless. He puts one or two fingers in, who knows, and I'm flying over the edge in ecstasy, saying his name, and likely pulling his hair out.

He emerges, gazing at my sated body.

Leaning in to brush his lips against mine, "same time next week?"

You have got to be kidding me.