Ulysses' Therapist

Introduction

The room is dark and hazy. I'm hanging, my wrists tied to a chain of some sort above me. Someone is fucking me. My vision is coming into focus. I see a black man grinning at me. My legs are wrapped around his waist; he's holding me up by my ass and is making me cum.

I don't remember anything from the last hour. I have no idea how I got here. All I know is my pussy is numb, dripping with juices.

The orgasm washes over me and the black man leaves. Another takes his place. He grabs my legs, pulls them around his waist and has his turn. I don't understand what's going on, but I know I don't want it to end.

It doesn't. It goes on for hours. I don't know what time it is; if it's morning or night. Black man after black man take me as I hang here. Every one of them brings me to powerful orgasms. My body feels like jelly.

Then I see someone I recognize. I know his name. The memories temporarily become clearer. I remember flashing, color lights, loud music, people, drinks and him - Fat Rob.

He stands in front of me, pulls me up like the others did and slides his fat cock in me. I cry out, moaning, looking to the ceiling. All I see is a single bright light above me. His cock feels so good, so thick and big.

"Your husband is going to know we stretched out that pussy of yours, Miss Brandi," Fat Rob tells me, pumping his hips upward.

"What?" I ask. I look to my left hand above me, I see my wedding ring. I could've sworn Leanna, my daughter told me to take it off. More memories return.

She did tell me to remove it. She said I needed this night, she said I deserve it.

Another orgasm courses through me. Fat Rob doesn't stop. He keeps going, keeps bouncing me. I love this feeling, feeling helpless, hanging there, my wrists tied. I can hear the chain rattling as I go up and down on Fat Rob's cock.

"I bet he can't please you like this," Fat Rob says, still taking me.

I shake my head. Did Leanna know this would happen? Did she know I'd be here with this man?

More memories return. I see my daughter, tall, red hair smiling at me, leading me somewhere. To a building. I see her smiling face after she whispers in my ear to relax and have fun. We were at a club, that's what led me here – a stupid night club.

Images of her laughing, talking, dancing with men, pointing in my direction, waving me over. My husband, Doug, I see his face next. Was Leanna trying to get me to cheat on Doug tonight?

Fat Rob slaps my ass, grits his teeth, and cums inside me. It feels so good. His huge load of warm semen fills me up. He steps away smiles, laughing, "That's a good pussy, Miss Brandi. How old did you say you were?"

I can't remember. I can't even remember my age. "F-forty," I struggle to talk. "Something."

Fat Rob nods and unchains me. My arms don't hurt, neither do my wrists. My body is mush in his arms. He carries me to a bed. I don't see Leanna anywhere.

Fat Rob kisses my left hand, "That's a nice diamond your husband got you. How long you two been married?"

I can't answer, I can barely talk. "Six years," I'm able to get out, answering his question about my marriage to Leanna's stepfather, Doug.

"Mmmm," he guides my hand to his weakened cock. I instinctively grab it, squeeze it, my wedding ring seems to shine brightly against his dark brown shaft.

The next thing I know, the room dims, darker and darker before going pitch black. My jumbled memories return as I try to piece this night together.

-1-

A couple months ago, November, I was waiting for someone. I was sitting in my office waiting for him to arrive. I'm a counselor, some may call me a shrink, but I'm not a psychiatrist. I can't prescribe medication; I don't have a doctorate. Therapist is an acceptable term for my profession I suppose.

He was a new patient. He was running late that day.

I remember fiddling with my wedding ring, thinking of Doug, thinking of his smile. Doug, Leanna and I moved to Atlanta a year prior to be closer to Doug's family. Truthfully, I hated the move, but agreed to it. Work is certainly more active, compared to Charleston. I rarely have any downtime like I did there.

I sighed and thought about cancelling, but I figured I'd give this guy a few more minutes to arrive.

I stood, straightened out my business suit, and looked out the window. I watched the rain fall, covering the parking lot, the cars in the distance were locked in their usual stop-go traffic.

There was a knock at the door, without thinking I said "come in" still watching the rain. I remember Doug and I had sex outside last year in the rain once. It was summer time though.

"Hello?" the voice spoke up behind me, shaking me from my trance.

I turned around and saw him. My mouth nearly dropped open. I was looking at the most attractive man I had ever seen.

"Um, hi, hello, come in," I stammered. I cleared my throat, approached him, extending my hand. I introduced myself as Brandi.

He shook it softly, smiling back at me. With my high heels on, I was his height, around 5'10" or so.

"Hi, I'm Ulysses. Nice to meet you," he nodded, looking around the office for a chair.

I watched him, Doug temporarily leaving my thoughts. Ulysses was very muscular, wearing a tight t-shirt, and cargo pants. The rain had an effect on his skin – his dark-chocolate skin, making it glisten. He wiped his forehead of rain.

"Oh, um, sorry, yes, feel free to sit there or the couch. Whatever is comfortable," I spoke up.

With my pen and paper, I took a seat across from him. He chose the chair.

He was nervous, most first timers are. I was nervous too, but not about meeting a new patient. He was having that effect on me.

"So, Ulysses, what can I do for you?"

"Well, um, not sure where to begin. I guess I'm just having issues when it comes to a certain aspect of my life," Ulysses answered.

"Ok, well I'll do my best to provide guidance."

"Yeah, well, it's," he paused. I could see the nerves.

"You can tell me. Are you having stress or anxiety issues? Problems coping with work, problems adjusting to changes in life?" I asked, staring into his eyes, avoiding his biceps and chests.

"It's sex," he blurted out, quickly feeling embarrassed.

"Oh, I see," my mind initially thought of performance issues. I've counseled a few folks that had anxieties and other issues that affected their sex life negatively.

"No, not performance problems. I just um," he read my mind and paused again.

Thinking about past patients, I pressed him further. "Sexual orientation issues? Maybe another type of dysfunction?"

Ulysses shook his head. "No," he took a deep breath. "Sex is my life. Everything about life revolves around it. I can't get away from it and everything ends up in sex."

I hoped I wasn't blushing. My eyes darted quickly to his muscular frame, then to his dreads pulled back into a ponytail, finally, embarrassingly, I glanced to his crotch.

"I see," I collected my thoughts, jotting this down on my notepad. "So you feel you may have some sort of addiction to sex?"

"No. I don't. That's the thing. I'm not addicted. The thought of going weeks or months without it, yeah I guess it'd suck, but I'd be fine. I wouldn't have withdrawals."

"Ok, so no addiction. Can you explain what you mean by sex being your life?"

"Yeah," Ulysses glanced behind me to the rain outside. "No matter what I do, who I meet, where I go, sex is always involved. Sometimes it's strangers, sometimes not, but it never fails. I go out of town for work, girl at the hotel front desk. I fly out of the country for work, the flight attendant on the plane. I want to go catch a movie alone late one night, the college student that works there. I even offered to help do yard work for an older woman I know, and well, like everything else, it ended up with sex."

"So they initiate?"

"Yes, always."

"Why is this bothering you?"

"Because, sometimes I feel like that's all I do or am. There's more to life. I tried finding it. I'd go on vacations alone, I'd always meet a woman."

"Have you thought about simply saying no or choosing not to allow the sex to happen?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've thought of that. But these women, were so beautiful," Ulysses answered. Then he said something that made me inhale sharply, hoping he didn't hear me.

"All these beautiful women, white women, I just," Ulysses sighed, shaking his head.

"White women?" I asked, my heart rate increasing.

"Yes. A few Latina as well, but most all have been white. I don't know if it's because I'm black or what. But I want to say no, I want to not feel like a piece of meat, but there's just something so beautiful about them," Ulysses said, eyes to the floor.

I didn't know where to go from here. I went the standard, typical route. I started with his childhood.

-2-

This room is burning hot now. I'm on all fours, I'm being whipped by Fat Rob. The walls look like they're on fire. Am I in Hell? Is this demon, Fat Rob, going to give me what I need?

He tosses this whip aside and penetrates me again, slamming his hips into my ass. I glance to my wedding ring.

"Doug," I whisper, unable to apologize before another orgasm comes over me.

Fat Rob grabs my dirty-blonde locks, pulling my head back as he fills me yet again with his seed.

He slams me down on the bed, the fiery effect of the walls subsides, I black out again, thinking of the first day I met Ulysses.

*

"My father remarried when I was 12 or so. Her name is Devin. She was a younger, white woman, blonde," Ulysses smiled.

"You used present tense when you told me her name."

"Yes, we're still a part of each other's life. Even since their divorce a few years ago."

I made a note and nodded for him to continue.

"She was, is, wonderful. She helped raise me. But because she's only 9 or 10 years older than me, we hung out a lot. We'd go to movies; she'd take me to sporting events while my dad worked. She was a great friend. Then I got older."

"That's when things became more intimate?"

"Yes. It was consensual. There was no rape, she didn't sexually abuse me. But she gave herself to me. She taught me everything about sex. I was young and foolish, maybe I had a crush on her, maybe I loved her – I don't know. But it was incredible. Our secret affair."

Ulysses chuckled thinking of a memory.

"What?" I asked.

"For my high school graduation present, she threw me a surprise party. My dad wasn't around – he worked a lot anyway. At the party, I was the only guy from my school there. I have no idea how she arranged it, how Devin pulled it off, but she invited every single girl in my high school graduating class to this party. Cheerleaders, volleyball, basketball players, even some girls that were considered 'nerds' or 'geeks'."

"Ok," I knew where this was headed. "What about this party made you chuckle?"

Ulysses' face went serious. "About 100 girls showed up. 50 or so didn't. As I said, Devin invited all of them. Of the ones that showed up, they were white. There was a line out of our house, going to the sidewalk and down the street. All these girls," Ulysses paused.

"It's ok," I smiled gently at him. "You can tell me. I'm here to understand and help."

"They all, um, rode me until they climaxed. The first girl would go, she'd get off me, then next and so on until all 100 girls orgasmed."

I nodded my head, the visual sinking in, the imagery of 100 18-year-old white girls in a line riding this man's black cock – I shook my head, I didn't want these thoughts there.

"I see, so that was her present to you. Sex."

"Yes. Afterward, they all left, hugging me bye, saying good luck at college, and so on, Devin and I remained. We made love in my room. I didn't finish with those girls, but I did finish in her."

I took notes and paused, "Do you love Devin?"

"Yes, very much."

"Yet you have sex with other women?"

"Her and I aren't technically a couple. I sorta view her as a mother figure. She's like the mom I never had and loves me in every way. I guess our relationship is open, unconditional."

Curiosity was getting the best of me, "So you have sex with other women, most are white. Is this a daily event?"

"Yes. If it's not Devin, it's three or four other regulars I suppose."

Thoughts of several white woman leaving and arriving to his home to have sex with him daily flashed in my head. I looked at his arms, thighs – wow. I had to focus, I needed to be professional. I glanced to my notepad and wedding ring.

"Have you considered making things exclusive with Devin? Perhaps even marrying her? I take it your father isn't around or knows about you and his ex-wife, your former step-mother?"

"No, he lives in LA and doesn't know her and I are like this. And no, it wasn't the cause of their divorce. He was caught several times cheating, and since Devin and I were a thing, she went ahead and divorced him."

I checked the time, it was nearing the end of his first session. We chatted a little more about Devin, how much she means to him, how much they care for one another.

"Ulysses, I want you to really show her how much you love her. It sounds like it's a lot. I know you have an open relationship with her, but maybe go somewhere or do something that's just you and her. Doesn't have to be sex, could be dinner, movies, hiking, something that isn't sexual. Maybe even suggest you and her become exclusive. From talking with you about her, it sounds like she loves you like a son and a lover. That's up to you though. Mainly, spend extra time with her and her only, not having sex. Try it," I smiled at him.

He smiled back and stood. We shook hands and I told him I'd see him next week.

I watched him from my window, race across the parking lot to his car. I couldn't help but think how handsome and nice he was. No wonder white women like him. I felt shame for thinking that, clutching my left hand, running my finger over my wedding ring.

*

I hear my daughter somewhere. She's crying out in pleasure. One of Fat Rob's friends must be fucking her. I'm in Fat Rob's arms, kissing him as he bounces me on his cock. I never want to leave this place.

He's taking me somewhere, down a hallway. We enter a room. I see my daughter on a bed, riding a black man, her hands in her long red mane, grinding her hips against him. He has a smug look on his face watching her ride him.

Fat Rob lays me down next to Leanna and climbs on top of me.

"Hey Mom," Leanna says nonchalantly. She runs her hands through her hair. "I love black dick. I'm so glad we went out tonight."

I try to respond, but can't. The massive Fat Rob is on top of me, making me cum so good once more.

After seeing and hearing Leanna cum again, the men take a break, leaving us alone. She rolls over, smiling at me. Did she bring me here? I still can't figure this out. The room goes dark again.

-3-

Thinking back to Ulysses' second appointment, I decided to ask about his work-life.

"Sex there too," he bluntly admitted. "No I'm not a male prostitute."

I laughed, "I didn't think you were."

"I've done yoga instruction, personal trainer work, but mostly some, well, fitness modeling," he bashfully admitted.

"That's why you travel?"

"Right. Different locations for various photoshoots. Been to Europe, Brazil, all over."

"So you have sex with people you meet there? Locals?" I asked.

"Sometimes. It's mostly coworkers though. Usually after photo shoots with me, we'll meet up for drinks and end up in my bed."

"Has this caused issues for your work?"

"Not yet. None of the women have tried to get me fired for sleeping with another model, or tried to manipulate their way into shooting with me. It's all been drama free. But still," Ulysses shook his head.

"What?"

"It's work, it's a job. Sex shouldn't be involved. I mean, I feel unprofessional."

"You don't have to sleep with these women though. No one is forcing you," I smiled softly at him.

"I know but, it's so hard," Ulysses said. My thoughts went to something else that would be hard – his erection. I scolded myself internally and focused on my job.

"Perhaps you could request a change at work? Maybe shooting for different type of ads – ones that don't feature female models."

"I tried that. Didn't work. I had a photo shoot with a magazine called Elite Magazine. I thought it was going to be simple stuff in the gym, doing exercises, lifting weights and so on. It'd be for their health and fitness section of the magazine. Turns out," Ulysses shook his head.

"Go on," I urged, slightly looking forward to how sex became involved.

"Turns out the magazine is marketed toward black men. It also turns out that," he shrugged. "All the female models are white. And it just so happens white female models are used in pretty much every article type. Fitness, health, cars, street bikes, entertainment section all have black male models and white female models."

"I see, so that's where the sex occurred," I nodded, imagining him taking a model off the set after a photoshoot and pinning her against the wall, having sex.

"Right," he continued. "Both of them," he added.

"Both?"

"There were two models. Two blonde, fairly big in the rear," Ulysses said.

"Oh. I understand."

"They had them wearing tiny exercise outfits. They posed us in all sorts of awkward poses to make it look like they were coming on to me at the gym. Jenna and Alexis. They were nice girls, but I knew sex with the two of them would happen. They purposefully made sure to rub themselves against me. It was awkward."

"Did you think about saying no? Or asking them to back down?" I asked, knowing he probably enjoyed it.

"No. The photographer was setting us up in these poses. Jenna would be in front of me, Alexis behind me, rubbing my shoulders. One pose of the both of them face me, my arms around them resting my hands on their lower back. It all led up to it."

"It?" I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to say it.

"Yeah. After the shoot, they found me in the shower. Both were naked, both entered, and well, the water ran cold we were in there so long. Then afterward we kept going, they used their 'gifts' a lot on me."

I giggled, I knew he meant their big butts. "I see. Well to drive things away from sex, perhaps consider – "

"A career change?" Ulysses joked.

"Yes!" I laughed.

We shared a smile and prolonged eye contact before I continued the session.

*

The room is so bright now. It has to be daylight. I'm naked, dried semen is all over me. I'm somewhere familiar. I rise up in my bed, Doug's and my bed. I'm surrounded by sleeping black men.

"No," I struggle to leave our bedroom, using the wall to stabilize me. I don't bother putting on clothes.

I hear moans coming from Leanna's room. I barge in and see her being double teamed by two black men. "Hey Mom," she says in between moans and grunts.

Fat Rob is in my kitchen, eating breakfast he must've cook for himself.

"You have to leave. Now! My husband will be home soon. Doug can't see this," I plead.

"Sure," Fat Rob smiles, finishing his eggs. He whistles loudly, and slowly but surely, he and his crew make their way out.

I hear Leanna whining and complaining as the two men she's with leave. Some are clothed, some are naked, there must've been 15 men in the house. I can't believe what I've done.

I start crying, looking at my wedding ring. Leanna doesn't care, she happily walks about, totally nude.

"What a night!" she laughs. "Hopefully Doug won't find out and we can do it again and again and again!"

I can't believe her. I can't believe this has happened. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. I run away, I run to my bedroom.