Female Therapy

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I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked down the first floor hallway towards Nancy’s office. I passed a soda machine with an Out Of Order sign taped to it, a toddler screaming at a tired looking woman seated on a red bench by the wall, and over her head, a painting of…of something, lord knew what.

I rounded the corner, and opened the door to her waiting room and entered the softly lit, comfortable room. Fish swam lazily in a tank, and plants made the room seem softly alive. There were no New Age magazines–Crystals Cured My Cancer!–but there were coffee table art books. Women wearing turn-of-the-century dresses enjoyed an Impressionistic picnic on the front of one of them.

I sank into the cream-colored sofa like sitting in a big welcoming hand, and closed my eyes. I breathed gently in and out as I tried to soak up the calm of the room.

Then a sweet clear feminine voice spoke my name.


There was Nancy, standing in the inner doorway. I hadn’t even heard her open it. She was smiling warmly at me. I got up and walked toward her.

She was wearing a beige sweaterdress and brown boots. She had on jade earrings and a necklace to match, and as I passed close by her to enter the room, my nostrils filled with her lovely perfume.

I sat down on her couch, and took in the familiar shelves filled with her books, more plants, little delicate figurines of animals here and there. A humidifier hummed softly.

Nancy sat down in her easy chair, smoothing a strand of her dark blonde hair behind her delicate ear as she rested my file on her lap and settled herself in. She pushed up her glasses and tilted her head at me and smiled again.

“So,” she asked me, “what’s up this week, kiddo?”

“Well…” I began uncertainly, “since Vince and I split, I just don’t feel myself.” I paused.

“In what way, Sherry?” Nancy asked softly.

I drew my legs up under me as I sat on the couch and tried to gather my thoughts. “I guess I just don’t feel attractive. And I feel like I’m not worth as much if I’m not Mrs. Bigshot anymore.” I blathered on, basically repeating myself, for a few minutes, as Nancy’s warm brown eyes focused their attention on me.

I ran out of nonsense to spout and the room was quiet for a minute as the humidifier hummed away in its corner.

“I’d like to try something,” she said as she gently placed my file aside and got up. Her sweaterdress draped so sensuously over her. I wished I felt like she looked; beautiful, sensual, intelligent, alluring, confident.

Nancy picked up a vase of hybrids from her desk and I felt the couch dip slightly as she sat gracefully down next to me. Her perfectly manicured fingers drew one flower out from the vase and set the rest on a table nearby.

Smiling reassuringly, Nancy took my hand in hers–her skin was so nice and smooth–and we held the stem of the flower together.

“Okay, I’d like for you to look at this flower, Sherry.” She paused, then went on. “Feel its green stem in your our hands, so alive and wet from being in the vase, with its sisters. Now,” she continued, her voice soothing, light, almost hypnotic, “please keep holding the stem, but take your other hand and touch the petals with your fingertips. Feel how delicate, how wonderful they feel.” I did as Nancy asked, and felt the moist, beautiful petals.

“Now, Sherry,” she said so low she was almost whispering, “inhale its fragrance. Put your face to the folded petals of this flower and experience the aroma, the feel, the power of this one delicate, beautiful little flower.”

I was very aware of Nancy’s finger touching mine as we held the flower and I brought my face to its center and closed my eyes, letting myself take in all the sensations. I could feel the petals on my face as I slowly breathed in its lovely scent.

Finally I opened my eyes and looked up and into Nancy’s eyes, a few inches away from mine over the flower we held. I felt the first real, spontaneous smile of my week spread across my face, and she smiled back, her face full of reassuring warmth.

She poker oyna gently took the flower from my hand and tenderly replaced it with the others.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, searching my eyes.

“Yes, wow, that’s amazing! I guess I just don’t take time to really experience things sometimes. You know?”

“Well…it IS beautiful, Sherry. But all it is is just one little flower, in a vase, in my office. YOU, Sherry, are beautiful, too. And you are so much more than just a flower in a vase. You are more lovely, more perfect, more powerful, than any flower.”

And then Nancy touched my cheek, just for a tiny moment, but with infinite tenderness.

“See you next week,” she said in her honeyed voice.


“I’m missing Vince less than I was…thank God for girlfriends, Nancy. More and more I am thankful for them because I have them to go to and he has…business.” I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“So you’re feeling closer to your women friends?” Nancy had on a black turtleneck and a brown suede skirt. She looked perfect, as usual. A silver bracelet reflected the light at her wrist.

“Yes…yes I am, but…”


I waved my hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s stupid.”

“Is it, Sherry? I feel sure it isn’t ‘stupid’ at all. Please tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I just…sometimes I would like to just be held by one of my girlfriends. I don’t just mean a quick hug with kids running around and the microwave dinging and somebody at the door. I mean…”

“Yes?” Nancy encouraged me. “Tell me, Sherry.” her voice was so soothing.

“Well, Nancy…I would really really like to be held by my friends Joanna or Trish…held for hours. Just to lay in their arms with no interruptions or obligations. Like for the whole afternoon. That’s what I’d like.” I could feel myself blushing. I shrugged.

“Sherry…how long has it been since you were held by someone?”

I sighed. “Since Vince I guess. And then it wasn’t the type of thing I’m talking about. Vince was goal-oriented, as you know!” I laughed bitterly. “If he held me it was because I was his goal of the moment.”

I turned my head to the side and caught the aroma of some potpourri next to the lamp by the couch. And then my loneliness welled up in me and I felt tears fill my eyes and spill over onto my cheeks.

And then…and then…

Nancy was at my side, surrounding me like a spring breeze, and before I knew it, and without a word between us, my face was nestled against the softness of her sweater, and her arms were around me and she was holding me. I could feel my own tears on the butter-soft material of her sweater, and the rich, comforting fullness of her breast underneath. her chest rose and fell gently against my face, warm and sweet, and I could feel her bra as I wrapped my arms helplessly around her.

“There, baby,” Nancy cooed as her slender fingers stroked my hair, and she held me in her arms and shushed and almost imperceptibly rocked me.”Shhhh.” We lay there together for the rest of the hour, almost forty minutes. We never really said a word. When my hour was up, I extricated myself from her embrace, altough I didn’t want to, and picked up my purse and went home.


All the rest of that day, I felt a serenity inside that I hadn’t had in a long time. I was smiling at little things again, and even caught myself whistling. (“Girls who whistle come to no good end!” I could hear my mother saying from somewhere in my memory)

That night as I lay in bed I replayed my session with Nancy in my mind. The feel of her arms around me, and mine clinging to her. The softness of her breasts under my cheek. “Oh Nancy,” I murmured as I fantasized–thrillingly!–of what it would have been like to kiss her there, and I actually made a kissing sound with my lips, which brought me out of my reverie.

“Oh my god,” I thought to myself, and put it out of my mind and went to sleep.


“How do you feel about our last session?” Nancy asked me in her melting-sugar voice.

“I canlı poker oyna loved it,” I confessed. “I absolutely loved it.” I could feel myself blushing again.

“Touch is a basic human need. If you would like, we can do that again. And,” she added reassuringly, “you can talk to me just as you always do; the only difference will be that you’ll be being held as you do.” She smiled.

I looked up. “Yes, Nancy. I’d like that. Please.”

With that, Nancy got up, her long floral print skirt flowing gracefully around her legs as she came over and sat in the corner of the couch and I settled into her embrace. I could feel her warm breath on my hair and her strong slender arms around me as I lay my head on her chest. She was wearing a white tailored blouse, and it smelled clean and fresh.

Nancy took a tissue and tenderly wiped off my lipstick so it wouldn’t get on her blouse. Her fingers touched my hair and face. And then I couldn’t help it. I pressed my lips to Nancy’s breast and moaned softly as I kissed her breast with urgent tenderness.

I expected that she would object, and ask me what I was doing, but she didn’t. She just encouraged me. “Yes, Sherry. Yes, darling girl!”

“Oh my god,” I breathed as, with trembling fingers, I began unbuttoning her blouse. Never in my life had I imagined myself seeking out another woman’s breasts this way, but I urgently wanted her.

As the beautiful curving swell of her breasts became exposed to my hungry gaze, I covered the sweet skin there in warm passionate kisses. My lips made love to Nancy’s skin, and, trailing my fingers over her nipples, I could feel that they had stiffened inside the cups of her white lace bra.

In a fever, I hurried to remove her blouse and bra, and I attached myself to her pretty pink nipple as if my life depended on it. Her breasts were so full and soft and sensual, I felt like I could suck and lick and kiss them forever. I went from one lovely breast to the other, showing her how much she excited me.

Then we were kissing. Urgent, needful kisses, deep and demanding, the kisses of two adult women who know exactly how to inflame another woman. For me, it was instinctive, like something I had always known, but never used.

I whispered hotly in her ear, “I’ve needed to masturbate about you every night for the last two weeks.” I licked her ear and nibbled it. “I’ve dreamed of this, of you. Oh Nancy.”

“Show me,” she said breathlessly.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Play with yourself, Sherry, with me…about me. Please.”

With a groan of realization and desire, I reversed myself so that my back was pressed to her naked breasts, and she held me in her arms and caressed my breasts and shoulders as I undid my jeans and slipped my hands between my legs. I was soaking wet. As Nancy whispered encouragement in my ear, I began to masturbate furiously for her. I had never masturbated WITH anyone before, in my life. To be lying there in another woman’s arms, in Nancy’s arms, being TOLD to play with myself and to do it for her, I felt myself nearing some sensual edge which I had never approached before.

“Oh Nancy, you are so beautiful, Nancy Nancy Nancy oh god Nancy!”

“Come for me,” she breathed in my ear and I felt my body stiffen as a tidal wave of sensation began rolling up from the soles of my feet and suddenly burst over me and overtook me and I arched my back–feeling her bare breasts there, which took me even higher–and I screamed her name and experienced by far the most intense climax of my life, there in my female therapist’s office, in her arms, with her name on my lips.


For the next six days, all I could think about was Nancy. I thought of almost nothing but sex, sex with another woman, sex with Nancy. I couldn’t concentrate, I was daydreaming all the time, about her body, her voice, her sweetness.

I began to think that, despite my passionate reaction, perhaps this wasn’t something I should just give in to. Shouldn’t I be looking for a man? Was I a Lesbian? Didn’t they have crew cuts internet casino and carry men’s wallets on chains?

The next time I saw her, I told Nancy about my doubts.

“Maybe I’ll give Vince one more chance,” I said, though it sounded absurd, even to me, as soon as I said it.

“Sherry, please just promise me not to do anything until our next session. Will you promise me that?”

“Of course,” I told her.

“Okay. Thank you.” She smiled and my heart brimmed over liked warm maple syrup from a pan.


The next week came, and despite myself, I wore tight jeans and a white tank top with no bra. “I make no sense, I make no sense!” I scolded myself as I headed out the door, planning to tell Nancy that I had to be straight, I had to stop this and concentrate on finding a man.

My appointment this time was in the evening, and Nancy’s office was the only thing open in the building where she was located. I opened her door and slipped inside. Her inner door, which normally was closed when i arrived, stood open. I could see Nancy’s lovely dark blonde hair above the back of her easy chair, and so I cautiously walked in.

“Hello Sherry,” she smiled as I came around and took my place on the couch. I was surprised to see that she was wearing a gorgeous silk kimono, with flowers painted on it. She was a vision, and I could smell her intoxicating perfume from where I sat.

Nancy got up and walked the few steps over to me, her womanly hips swaying sensually as she came closer. “I love you Sherry,” she said. “I love you so much, and I can’t let you make this mistake you are comtemplating.”

With that, Nancy knelt straddling me, one creamy calf on either side of me as she took my face in her delicate hands and kissed me on my lips. I was helpless. As always, I felt an immediate, powerful desire for this beautiful woman, and I kissed her back, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths as we merged and made out, there on her couch in her softly lit office.

“OOooo, nice,” came a purring female voice from behind us. Alarmed, I looked over Nancy’s shoulder and saw both Joanne and Trish standing there watching us. I was frozen, my heart leaping in my chest in panic.

“Shhh,” cooed Nancy as she kissed my throat, then straightened up to look into my face and search my eyes. “This is an intervention. Your friends are here because they love you just as I do and want the best for you. It’s okay, Sherry. Shhh darling shhhh.”

Before I knew it, three pairs of expert female hands were exploring my body and undressing me. Three pairs of petal-soft feminine lips were kissing my skin all over. Joanne reached between my legs and fingered my wet pussy while Nancy french kissed me and Trish fondled and sucked my right breast. It wasn’t long before I was having my first of many, many orgasms.

“Her face is so sweet when she’s coming,” Joanne softly remarked to Trish after I had climaxed from Nancy kneeling between my legs and licking me to heaven.

“Mmm, and such perfect breasts,” whispered Trish as she cupped my left breast and took my nipple into her warm wet mouth, and Joanne stroked her hair and watched my face.

I was allowed to watch Trish and Joanne worship Nancy, and all three women made love to me until I was delirious with pleasure and joy.

“One last thing,” said Joanne with a smirk, “just in case you STILL think there’s anything a man can give you that a woman can’t improve upon!”

As Trish cradled me in her arms, Joanne approached me wearing a strap-on dildo and positioned herself between my legs. Nancy spread my labia with her fingers as Joanne entered me and then my therapist moved up and began softly kissing my face, ears and throat as Joanne penetrated me. It was all too much, and I felt yet another orgasm rising within me.

Just before I gave in to my climax, Nancy kissed me and asked, “So, my beautiful flower, any more notions about going back to men?”

As Trish held me, Nancy kissed me, and Joanne filled me, I let my most intense orgasm of the night answer for me.

“Now you see why we recommended Nancy to you,” giggled Trish.

“Yeah,” agreed Joanne. “We TOLD you she was terrific.”

I think Nancy was about to say something, but then she was busy being gratefully kissed—by me!

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