The Therapist [Part 6]

Unfortunately, internet research didn't turn up much.

There was an Alexis Chao, licensed counselor, listed as working out of the same building. But nothing like Stacy's internet footprint. Eventually, with some digging, I found her LinkedIn profile, with a headshot. Asian features, dark eyes, full lips. Pretty. Younger looking than Stacy -- maybe in her early or mid 20s, judging by her work history. Fairly recently licensed. Her face jogged my memory -- she was the one who had been leaning up to whisper in Stacy's ear, lips curved up in a grin, giggling as I had talked with Stacy in the bar.

There wasn't much else to dig up. No research publications; her counseling license was active.

In the days before the appointment, I spent a lot of time wondering what this was going to be like. Probably more normal; Stacy had said that she and Lexie had...philosophical differences in approach?

I felt a little disappointed at the idea of going back to normal therapy appointments after...what it had been like with Stacy.

And then, the night before, a LinkedIn connection request came in. From Alexis Chao.

I felt a flush. She must have gotten some notification that I viewed her profile. I opened the request.

Hi Phil. Looking forward to our appointment. Stacy has told me all about your case and I've reviewed her notes. I think we'll be able to make some quick progress. ;)

I stared at the message. Was that a dig at me finishing quickly? And who used emojis on LinkedIn?

I waffled a bit on replying, but eventually accepted the connection request and sent a Great! Look forward to meeting you. message in reply.

The app pinged with her reply only a few minutes later. Oh, we met already though! I was at the bar with Stacy...you were pretty focused on her, though, so you might not have noticed me.

My face flushed, reading it. Was my fixation on Stacy so obvious?

"Hey, babe, what're you doing?" It was Becca, poking her head around the corner from the hallway.

"Just, uh, some work..."

"Oh, okay. I'm heading to bed....maybe we could, y'know..." she trailed off, hopefully.

Things had been a bit...well, weird, since she had brought up Stacy during sex.

"I'll, uh, be in in a minute," I said, absentmindedly. What should I say to Lexie? What had Stacy said about my case? Did I just not respond?

"Just come on up now...we both know it won't take long, you can do more work after," she teased.

Now I was annoyed. Did she always have to mock and tease me? "No thanks. I'll be in in a bit."

Now she was annoyed. "Are you sure? Maybe I could talk about Stacy again." The words were sarcastic. Bitter.

I rolled my eyes. Everyone seemed to be fixated on how I felt about Stacy. "Whatever, you liked it too, remember? I'm not the one who brought her up while we were fucking."

She scoffed. "Fine. Be that way. Goodnight."

I ran a hand through my hair. I didn't know what to do with this; it felt like we were one or two conversations away from a breakup. And I wasn't even going to be able to talk with Stacy about it tomorrow, I thought, ruefully. I could really use some good advice.

Maybe if I said something to Lexie tomorrow, I could talk to Stacy again, soon? I realized that the lack of any homework, scenarios, any advice on how to handle Becca, left me feeling a bit adrift.

But I wasn't obsessed. I just wanted to talk to my therapist. Right?

---

In the end, I didn't reply to Lexie's message. I just showed up at the office building, a few days later, pushing the elevator button for her floor.

The elevators opened and I went down the hall to Lexie's office -- a beige office door with an "Alexis Chao, LPC" nameplate next to it. A sign underneath that said, "Advance appointments only; knock and enter if the door is unlocked!"

I knocked and opened the door. It was -- well, there was no other way to put it -- shabbier than Stacy's spacious, luminous offices. No reception area, just an office, a few dilapidated chairs, and a wooden desk.

There was a woman behind the desk, feet up on the desk, reading a file. I recognized the curving smile, and the dark eyes from the bar as she looked up at me, standing up.

"Hi! You must be Phil! Nice to meet you...again," she said. She walked around from behind the desk.

She was short -- shorter than me by a fair bit -- and petite, with a small frame. Long dark hair was pulled back into two braids. Her lips were full, pouty, with a resting expression that conveyed amusement. She was wearing a tank top that showed off lean, smooth arms, and black leggings that showed off the flare of her hips as she walked around from behind the desk towards me.

The overall impression, especially with the hair, was attractive, youthful. More hot-young-personal-trainer than patient-therapist-here-to-help-you-address-childhood-trauma, I thought.

"Uh, thanks...Nice to meet you too, Alexis." This was a pretty different experience than showing up for an appointment with Stacy, I reflected.

"Lexie, please." She smiled up at me. "Have a seat, Phil. I've been reading Stacy's case notes -- they're very detailed, of course, she's always so meticulous. I know we'll be able to make some progress quickly."

I flushed, wondering what Stacy's notes said. "Thanks...I hope so."

She moved back towards her desk and perched on the edge, her legs dangling -- she was short enough they didn't even touch the floor. "Now...my approach is a little different from what you'll be used to. Stacy loves her scenarios, assigning homework, that sort of thing. She's comfortable with incremental progress over time. I'm more direct. Especially since I'm not your regular counselor, I want to make as much progress in the session as we possibly can. That means no-nonsense. We can't waste time if you're going to have breakthroughs. Not everybody likes that about me. It's one of the reason Stacy's got the penthouse office with floor-to-ceiling windows and I...well, let's just say that the chair you're sitting in is so old that I have to replace it pretty soon or it's going to become a liability issue."

I laughed in spite of myself. "Okay, got it."

"But don't let the shabby furniture fool you. There's a method to my approach, and Stacy only refers people to me when she thinks that method is what they need." She moved over to a file cabinet against the wall, bent over, and started rifling through it.

I didn't respond. I was too busy staring at her body. For a smaller woman, she had an incredible ass. The leggings clung to her curves, and bent over like this, I could see how she filled out them out, the sight of her toned, round ass, flexing, the braided hair above it...god damn. I felt my cock stir in my pants. I couldn't help it.

She wasn't statuesque, like Stacy, but I had always loved a great butt -- it was what had attracted me to Becca, initially. Lexie obviously put in the work at the gym, and that pretty face.... Was there some kind of network of hot therapists who referred to each other?

But thinking of Becca had me feeling guilty. Here I was, just staring slackjawed at Lexie's ass. I tore my gaze away and pulled myself together just in time, as Lexie stood up, brandishing some printed notes. "So let's get started." Her voice was blunt, now. "Like I said, I took a look through Stacy's notes on your sessions. It sounds like you cum really fast."

My face heated. "H-hey, whoa, n-not all the time--"

She giggled, and held up a hand. "I know, I know, I read Stacy's notes. You only cum fast when you're being teased...or for Stacy, it seems like. What's that about?"

"I-it's not...I don't..." The flush of humiliation I felt at this young woman -- maybe a full decade younger than me? -- matter-of-factly asking why I was such a quick cummer.

"I mean, it sounds like she identified your trigger almost immediately. So why'd you cum so fast for her in your most recent session. You just like tall blondes with big tits or something? I mean, I get it, Stacy's hot as hell." She picked up the pad and glanced at it. "But from Stacy's notes, it doesn't seem like your girlfriend...Becca, right?...fits that description." She looked back up at me, questioningly.

"Uh..." I was bright red now, I knew. Stacy had taken notes on Becca's appearance? And Lexie didn't really seem to talk like a therapist. She had said her approach was direct, but...

She held up a hand. "Okay, relax. I can see I'm embarrassing you, asking about Stacy and Becca specifically," her voice was amused but reassuring. "Let's take a different tack. You're a quick cummer. So what? Who cares?"

I blinked. No clinical language about premature ejaculation here, apparently. "I, uh, it's...well, it's embarrassing."

She shrugged. "Why? Personally I'm flattered when I make a guy blow their load fast, when they can't help it. It's hot. I get a rush from it."

Well, I felt my cock stir further at that, but I tried to rerail my thoughts. "Uh, Becca's frustrated by it. I think that's why she mocks me so much. I'm not satisfying her."

She shrugged, again, dismissively. "So dump her."

"What?"

She nodded. "I mean, look, relationships are about working together, compromise. She's allowed to have things about you she wishes were different. But why stay with someone who humiliates you? I mean, if you like the way she's humiliating you, cool. That can be fun. Not here to yuck your yum. But it doesn't seem like you like it, right?"

I shook my head, slowly.

She leaned in, all earnestness. "This is the crux of it, for me. I feel like you and Stacy skipped a step. You jumped right to treating this like a problem to fix. Why have you decided it's a problem?"

"I-it makes me feel...I dunno, bad...ashamed..." I hadn't thought about this very deeply, I realized.

"Does it? Actually?" There was skepticism in her voice.

"Y-yeah..." But even I could hear in my own voice that I wasn't sure.

She sighed and moved over, sitting down in one of the chairs next to me, looking up at me with concern. "Phil, I'm just not sure that's actually true, if you're being honest with yourself."

"Uh, I mean..." I glanced down at her body. This close to me, it was that much more obvious how petite she was.

"Why does it make you feel bad? Like I said, I think it sounds kind of hot." Her voice had genuine arousal in it. She licked her lips and twirled one of her braids around her hand. "Like, one of the hottest parts of sex is when a guy loses control, right?"

I felt a rush of blood to my cock that left me lightheaded. "I, uh---" I stammered. I didn't know how to handle this. This wasn't some scenario, like with Stacy. Lexie was just telling me what she thought was hot. Is this why Stacy had referred me?

She just kept talking over my stammered words. "I mean, like, I've made some guys lose control really fast..." she giggled. "It's fun."

My mouth was dry. "You think so?"

She nodded. "Mmhmm. I mean, look at me," she said, biting her lip, and she gestured at her body. "I'm, well, pretty small. Not that strong. Most guys could overpower me pretty easily. So when I overpower them instead, I feel really powerful."

I stared at her body as gestured at it. I was so hard, now.

"I mean, you're physically a lot bigger than me," she murmured. She was looking down at my crotch now, where my bulge was visibly tenting my trousers. "But it feels like I'm the one in control here, huh? It makes me feel so sexy."

I nodded, mutely. What was I going to do, deny it?

"You look really turned on. And I see the way you're looking at me. I bet it wouldn't take very long for me to make you cum, would it," she whispered.

My face went bright red. It was almost exactly what Becca had said last night, and I felt the familiar rush of shame. Especially because of how much younger than me Lexie was. But she wasn't mocking. She just sounded turned on by the idea. As I watched, she knelt between my legs, and reached up towards my belt.

"I, uh, my girlfriend, I shouldn't--" The words came out halfheartedly.

She paused, looking up at me with a bit of a petulant expression. "One, this is a therapy session. This is an approach to get us to the root of the problem. Two, you haven't been saying that to Stacy, have you?"

She waited a beat. I reddened further.

Her voice was soft now. "And three...I think you want it. I think you like the idea of cumming for someone who thinks it's hot that you won't last long." She ran her tongue over her lips.

I was speechless, staring at her mouth.

She undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants, and then paused again. "I mean, unless you don't like blowjobs..." she pouted.

"N-no, I do, it's just--"

"Oh, good." She cut me off, pulling down my pants and boxers with one smooth motion. She stared as my cock sprang out -- hard, the tip glistening. She looked entranced, her face only inches from it, lips parted. I could feel her breath on my length, and my cock twitched.

A few silent moments passed, and then she looked up at me. "Cum as fast as you want. Just tell me when you're about to lose control." Her full lips formed into that same sexy pout. "And don't be too rough with my soft little mouth..."

I was so turned on I could hardly think. But the reality of the situation suddenly dawned on me through the haze of arousal. I had known Lexie for less than half an hour. There was no scenario as there had been with Stacy, no pretense at roleplaying. This was some woman I barely knew who was about to suck my cock. Even if we were fighting, I had a girlfriend. This wasn't right.

I felt overwhelmed, a sudden sense of panic. "L-Lexie, wait a sec, this is -- oh --" I let out a moan as she impaled my cock in her mouth.

It took all of a quarter of a second to realize that Lexie really knew what she was doing. Pillowy-soft, full red lips slid up and down my shaft. As her spit lubricated my length, she wrapped one hand around the base of my shaft, pumping the base in time with the movement of her mouth. She twisted her mouth as she moved it up and down, and swirled her tongue along my length. Her other hand went behind my hips, using the leverage to force herself down on me like she was trying to fuck her mouth with my cock.

I groaned. The sensation was incredible, her technique perfect. It was immediately clear to me that this was going to be the best blowjob I had ever received.

And even hotter than her technique was her enthusiasm. At my groan, she made a pleased little purring sound in the back of her throat. I could tell she was struggling to get as much of me into her mouth as she possibly could; she made the occasional whimper or mmmpf of effort as she forced herself down onto my cock. I'm fairly average, but she was small, and the sensation that I was too much for her, that she was struggling, only made it hotter.

I was staring down at her, openmouthed, watching her work over my cock. She looked up from what she was doing to make eye contact with me -- and winked.

The sight of her, winking as she sucked me off, tipped me over from barely holding on to completely overwhelmed. The way she was enthusiastically bobbing on my cock was too much. I felt a flush of shame -- she had barely started, it had been maybe fifteen seconds. I tried to control myself, to hold on a bit longer. I didn't want to tell this younger woman I was cumming already.

And as a result, I missed the opportunity to warn her. One second I was holding it back, keeping myself from cumming, and the next second my orgasm was rushing over me, totally out of control.

"Oh, fuck, Lexie, I'm---" but even as the words left my mouth, my hips bucked involuntarily, and I started cumming, spraying into her mouth. She made a surprised, struggling sound, obviously caught off-guard, but recovered quickly, swallowing and trying to keep pace.

She kept sucking, working me through the orgasm. I came hard, hard enough that black spots danced across my vision as my cock pulsed cum into her mouth.

There was silence for a moment as my orgasm subsided and she pulled herself off me. I watched her, dazed, as she stood up, grabbed tissues, and wiped off her mouth. She had a satisfied grin on her face when she turned around, and arched one eyebrow at me.

I felt like I was supposed to say something. "T-that was..." I trailed off.

"Mmm," she agreed. "It was really hot that you couldn't even warn me. Now..." she sat down next to me again, turning and looking at me. "What have we learned?"

I considered. "I, uh...I really liked not being humiliated for a change," I admitted.

She nodded. "Good." Then she prompted, "...And?"

Did she want praise? "I, uh...I don't know, you're really...that felt..." I blushed.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm extremely good at that. An important take-away; thank you. But I think the more important take-away is that you still came quickly. Without any humiliation; the opposite, in fact. Lots of positive encouragement. It seems like a more generalized case of premature ejaculation, to me."

My heart sank. She was right. "Oh. So...you're...saying I might just cum quickly all the time now?"

"Maybe...I don't know if Stacy misdiagnosed your triggers initially, if your condition has actually changed, or if something else is going on..." she mused. She glanced at the clock. "Hmm. We'll have to explore that next week; not really enough time to do it this session, and there's another topic we need to cover anyway that seems more timely"

"What other topic?" I asked the question guardedly.

"Becca." Lexie said her name, flatly. "I can read between the lines well-enough on Stacy's notes, and how you're behaving during this appointment, Phil. You and Becca had sex after the bar, Stacy came up while you were fucking, and it's been weird since. You probably haven't addressed it." She folded her arms.

I blinked. "Um...yeah. That's pretty much it."

"Okay. I'm going to make a few suggestions, but you'll need to be prepared to adjust your approach, depending on..." she trailed off. "Actually, can you put your pants back on, first? It's distracting."

Blushing, I pulled my pants back on, and she laid out the conversation she thought I needed to have.

I got into the elevator a few minutes later, my head swirling. Lexie was, as it turned out, full of advice, and very direct about it.

I headed home to talk to Becca.

Maybe a few sessions with Lexie instead of Stacy would do me some good.