Rachel climbed the stairs of the university’s Behavioral Sciences building to finally arrive at her office on the 6th floor. (And I thought being a grad student would get me some respect,) she thought sarcastically. The corner nook the department liked to call her “office” was hardly 10X10 feet in floor space and crammed with all sorts of books that the regular profs didn’t seem to want. If nothing else, it was comfortable. She had found room for a fouton that served as a couch during appointments and as a bed when she stayed there to chip away at her dissertation. (Ah well, another day, another assistanship dollar.) she mused as she turned on her computer to check her appointment calendar.
As the computer booted she examined her reflection on the screen. Rachel was a pleasant woman, perhaps not a super-model, but she held her own against the “cheerleader” types. Her mother had always bragged about her combination of brains and beauty. Rachel didn’t completely dissagree, either; she had the classic Norweigan features, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a well proportioned body. A bit top heavy, pehaps, but there were worse things. He breasts were quite adequate for turning heads, especially among the under grads, she noticed.
It turned out that she had only one appointment that morning, a counselling session with a student named Christopher. Due to arrive in 15 minutes, she decided to put on some coffee and settle down.
Almost exactly 15 minutes later, a head popped out from behind the door and a timid voice called out “Hello?”
“Hi. Come in and sit down,” Rachel said warmly. “My name’s Rachel, and you must be Chris.”
“Yeah, I’m Chris.” He seemed like a balloon that couldn’t hold any more air without popping. Stress was written all over his face, and Rachel noticed that he had probably stayed up all night last night because of his bloodshot eyes and weary expression.
After the formalities were out of the way, Rachel asked Chris to tell her about himself. Chris was a music major, and sang in the university choir as well as played trumpet in the orchestra. Rachel could see why he was stressed; music majors are well-known for hellacious schedules and long practice/study hours. She was amazed at how Chris thought nothing of working until 2 or 3 in the morning only to have an 8am class the next day.
“How long have you been doing this?” Rachel asked.
“Since my freshman year, and I’m a junior now. It never bothered me until a while ago.” Chris said. “It was just part of surviving.”
“What do you do to relieve stress?”
“I used to be able to do anything to relieve stress. Music used to relax me so much. Now music is the biggest source of stress I have. I have to be that much better than the next guy or else I don’t get into the grad school I want. You should understand that.”
Admittedly, she did. She remembered back to her undergrad days, when she fought tooth and nail to be the best psych major there was, so she could have this assistanship. “I do understand, Chris. I remember worrying about it as much as you are now. But there isn’t ANYTHING you can do to relax?”
“Hell, I can’t even masturbate to relax anymore!” Chris blurted out. Almost immediately Chris realized what he had said. He blushed a deep shade of crimson. “Um… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that… maybe I should leave now–”
“Wait, don’t leave.” Rachel said, almost too anxiously. A furious wave of thoughts went through her mind. Somehow Chris’s remark had taken Rachel out of her “professional” mode and now realized that she was getting turned on! (Stop it, stop it right here. Rule number 1 about counselling: DON’T get involved with your patients–MAJOR no-no… But he *is* cute… and I haven’t had any fun lately… NO! You can’t do it… why not? Maybe it’s just what he needs…)
Rachel went to the door and closed it tight. With no other appointments this morning, she wouldn’t be bothered for a good three hours. (Well, I’ve neverseduced anyone before… but I guess there’s always a first time. Here goes nothing), she thought.
“Chris, I’m going to ask you some… personal questions. You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to. I promise that anything you tell me will be kept between us. Okay?” Chris only nodded. “Chris, how long have you been masturbating?”
“Since I was fifteen.”
“Have you had sex since then?”
Chris blushed again. “um. . . no.”
“You’re a virgin? That’s surprising, a good-looking guy like you.” And he *was* good looking. He was just a little shorter than she was, solidly built muscles under his T-shirt, short brown hair, and a pleasant face. This was getting more interesting by the minute. She began to run her fingers throughhis hair, and stood in front of him so that her breasts were level with his eyes. “Can you still masturbate now, or did you mean that the stress wasn’t letting you?”
“Oh, I still can, it just doesn’t feel as good as it once did.” He was getting more comfortable with the sudden twist of conversation, it seemed. “I bet I sound rather silly to you now,”
“Not at all. It’s not something you need to be ashamed of.” Rachel couldn’t believe she had just said that. “Perhaps you’d like to try it here and now. Mastrubating, that is,” she said with a little smile.
“Why not? If this is how you used to be able to relieve stress, why not try again?” She began to unbutton her shirt and changed her tone to be as seductive as she could possibly comprehend. “I’ll even help,” she said with a smile.
This got some results, Rachel noticed; a bulge was beginning to grow in Chris’s Levis. Rachel sat down beside Chris and began to stroke his crotch. “Would you help me take my bra off?”
Chris was too caught up in the moment to ask questions. Instinctively, he reached around Rachel and undid her bra. With a deft movement, Rachel had taken off her top and bra so that her newly bared breasts hovered mere inches from Chris’s face. Tenatevly at first, Chris began to lick at her nipple, then became more confident when Rachel moaned in response. “Oh…yeah, *baby*… suck my tits!” It was rare when Rachel would actually speak during lovemaking. More often than not, words just got in the way. However, this was different. Chris needed stimulation from all the senses, and Rachel was happy to oblige. Her hands found Chris’s button fly, and within seconds had pulled his throbbing manliness out for her to conquer. Making Chris lie down, Rachel looked over Chris’s cock and paused only for a moment to admire. She wasn’t good at estimating size, but figured that he had to be at least 7 inches long. “I’m gonna make you cum, Chris,” she said huskily. “I’m gonna suck the cum right out of you, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Chris could only whimperin response. Running her tongue over his purpleish head, down his shaft and down to his balls, Chris tensed, letting the ecstasy overcome him. With practiced skill, Rachel took him into her mouth. She worked him up, pushing him higher and higher until she was sure that he would explode.
“Wait, please.” Chris managed to squeak out.
This surprised Rachel. She was sure that Chris had lost complete control. Oh well, no big deal. “Yes, love?”
“Let me cum inside you. I want this to be right.”
She had planned to wait for the second time around, but what the hell. “Whatever you want, Chris. I’m yours.” Eagerly, Rachel stripped off her skirt and settled down on top of him. She gasped as she impaled herself on his dick. She realized that she’d underestimated Chris’s size as he had reached farther that Rachel had ever felt before. She ground into him, and with each stroke shebrought herself closer to orgasm. Chris was breathing heavy, a twisted look of pleasure on his face.
“Ooohhh… It’s almost there!” Chris grunted.
“You can do it baby! I want your hot cum!” Rachel yelled.
This was too much for Chris, as he blossomed into orgasm, shooting his virgin load deep into Rachel, who in turn was brought over the edge. Chris fellin a heap onto the fouton, exausted. Ironically, it was the most relaxed Rachelhad seen him. (This may not be bad therapy for me, either,) Rachel thought as she cleaned herself up and waited for Chris’s strength to return.