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  • A Depraved Viewing Pt. 03

A Depraved Viewing Pt. 03

12

Hi all :)

A bit of a direction change from parts 1 & 2. I'm not quite ready to take this series to its, seemingly, obvious conclusion just yet ;)

If you're new, I would suggest reading the first two parts, but it's not a must-do!

Anyway, please enjoy!

*****

I sat outside Liz's office and waited for her to arrive. My stomach felt a little on edge. I was unsure how I was going to explain what I'd done. Last time she was wonderful. She was understanding. She made me feel so much better about what I had done. I was hoping she would do the same again, although, granted, this time my behaviour was much more depraved.

The morning after the night before. The night before being the night I masturbated over my comatose son.

That morning, I sat on the edge of my bed terrified to leave my room. Terrified to face the consequences of my actions. Surely he would have awoke and wondered what the crusty dry substance was that was spread over his body? Surely though, even in the darkest recesses of his mind, he would not have been able to imagine what had actually happened?

For a brief moment it occurred to me that I was more concerned about him knowing what I had done as opposed to me feeling any sort of shame or guilt for my behaviour. I quickly dismissed this thought. I'd gotten very good at burying those feelings. Just a healthy sense of loathing simmered in the background of my mind.

A few minutes passed and I finally found my courage and exited my bedroom and made the short few steps journey to Si's room down the hall. His door was open. I peered inside. He was gone. His bed was messy and the clothes I'd taken off him were still where I had left them. The images were coming back to me: I could see myself on my knees, straddling my prone boy, my hand gladly pleasuring my pussy.

The flush of the toilet snapped me out of my trip down depraved memory lane. I sharply turned to face my clearly hungover son. He was wearing his bathrobe, his eyes were sunken into his skull and big dark rings framed them. "Morning." I said cheerily.

"Morning." He grumbled back at me.

Despite my worries about him knowing what I had done the previous night, I still got a small amount of satisfaction out of his suffering. After all, he had interrupted me mid pleasure session. "Feeling a bit delicate, are we?" I smugly asked.

"Please, I could really do without... whatever this is." He brushed by me and back into his room.

"I don't suppose you remember too much about last night?" I enquired.

He fell face first back onto his bed. "No." Was his muffled reply. "Just... alcohol."

I couldn't stifle my laughter. I was definitely laughing at the mess he was in, but I a portion of the laughter was relief, knowing that I had gotten away with what I'd done. The greatest heist of all time had been pulled off as far as I was concerned!

Why his was a crusty mess when he awoke never came up, and if it did, he never spoke to me about it. He never even asked me how big a state he was that night.

My train of thought was broken by the sound of Liz's office door opening. Liz popped her head around the door and smiled at me. "Come on in." She said with a big friendly smile on her face. I smiled back, stood up and followed her into her office. Liz was wearing a rather fetching cream pant suit. Her long blonde hair seemed to be glowing. She looked well.

We both took our seats in the dimly, yet comforting, lit room; her in her big beige armchair, me on the big squishy sofa across from her. I loved that sofa, it was so soft, you could sink right into it. "How've you been?" Liz asked.

"Not too bad." I lied.

Liz studied me and smiled. "If you were not too bad I doubt you would have asked for this session." I'd not lied very well. Her knack of seeing through my bullshit was a gift.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, yeah."

"How have things been at home?" She wasted no time probing me.

"They were going great. I'd been doing exactly as you suggested." I started to explain.

"With regards to your son?" She interjected.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Your fantasies about him had ceased?"

"They had. I'd been focussing my... urm... Arousal elsewhere. And it was working!" I became a little animated at the end.

Liz gave me a knowing look. "That sounds good, but I sense a but."

I sighed. "He came home drunk, I mean really drunk." I laid the whole story out for her: how I had been disturbed as I masturbated. How he's passed out on his bed. How I took off his sticky clothes. How I wrestled with morality when deciding whether or not to remove his pants.

With each detail revealed I looked to Liz to gauge her reaction. She was just like she always was: calm.

Things began to shift, though, when I confessed to ogling his soft, thick cock. Liz shifted in her seat. "So... you didn't leave?" She asked me.

I shook my head. "No. I knew I should have. I tried to remember everything you had told me."

For the first time Liz seemed to hesitate before asking me her next question. "Wh... What happened next?"

I gulped. "I took off my robe."

Liz raised her eyebrows. "Oh."

I confessed that I masturbated right there in front of him. I confessed that I had put my knees either side of him and rubbed my soaking wet snatch for him. I confessed that I wanted to suck his prick. I confessed that I only didn't because I was worried he'd wake up, not because it was wrong. The look of calm was well and truly gone. I then confessed the unthinkable...

"I squirted all over him!" As I confessed this final, sordid detail, Liz exhaled heavily, puffing out her cheeks, and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. This was the first time that I had ever seen her rattled like this. I paused. "Are you okay?" I asked her.

"Uh... yes, yes, I'm fine." She tried to compose herself. "Please continue."

I looked at her concerned. "That's all of it." We sat in silence. An uncomfortable one. Our first.

"Right, well, that was quite a story." She said, flustered. I had never seen her like this. She took another pause. "I'm sorry about this."

"It's fine, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Sorry, this is very unprofessional of me." She swept her long blonde hair back over her shoulders. I suddenly felt that I'd made a mistake in confessing my awful behaviour, Liz was clearly disgusted by it. Suddenly all those feelings of shame and guilt, that I had been locking away, started to rise to the surface.s I began to panic.

"I should go." I stood up to leave, my face flush, tears gathering. I wanted to run away and hide and cry forever.

"No, no, no. Please, sit." Liz pleaded, she could see how distressed I was. "Please." I sat back down. "I apologise. I do not want you to feel that you are being judged, that's not what my behaviour is meant to convey."

I sat with my arms crossed. "I do feel like I'm being judged." I confessed.

"Not at all, this is all me."

I was confused. "What do you mean?" I asked her.

Liz looked nervous, I'd never seen her look nervous. "I'm meant to be impartial. I should not have any feelings on what you tell me, good or bad."

"Good?" I was confused.

"Yes, good."

I was still confused. "Are you saying you think my story is good?"

"This is not an area I should be going in to." She tried to brush it off.

"No, please do." My shame and panic were crammed back in their prison and now were replaced with curiosity. I wanted to know what she meant by 'good'.

She took a moment. "I am supposed to be impartial, as I said, but even I can be thrown by a story that I find..." She looked as though she was struggling to find the word.

"Disturbing?" I offered.

"Exciting." She blurted.

That was a word I did not expect and the look on her face suggested that it's not what she meant to say either, or at least say it out loud. "Exciting?" I repeated, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Sorry, not exciting, I meant..."

I cut her back tracking off. "You found my story exciting?"

She puffed out her cheeks and her eyes scrambled like she were searching her mind to find an excuse. Her face was red. I had never seen this usually super composed woman look so flustered. "As unprofessional as it is to say, yes, I found your story exciting." She chuckled nervously.

I was stunned. "Oh, wow." My eyes must have been the size of saucers. Liz immediately looked as though she had regretted what she'd just said.

"As I've said I should not be going into this, it's deeply unprofessional." As she backtracked she must've said 'unprofessional' about a thousand times.

Liz continued to ramble and retreat; after a while I toned out, I sat with a gormless look on my face. I think I heard something about 'code of ethics' at one point. All I was thinking is that my story of how I squirted over my naked son had excited her. I hadn't read that wrong, had I? Did this mean that she too was into this taboo stuff? I noticed that my heart rate had increased, my breath had become just a little shorter and, good heavens, a twitch in my knickers...

"I hope that we can move past this?" She finally finished.

"So my story is exciting as in... arousing?" I uttered ever so slowly. This was the first hay maker I'd ever landed on her.

"This really isn't an appropriate topic." She tried to deflect.

But I all of a sudden I had the bit between my teeth and the twitch between my thighs. I wanted to know more. I had to know more. "Well, hang on, you can't tell me my story is exciting and then try and sweep it under the rug."

"Again, I apologise for that, I misspoke. I really think it is best that we move on." Again, she tried to divert.

"Look, I have no problem with you saying my story excites you." I told her. "It means that I'm not alone in all this."

"Well, I've told you before that these sorts of fantasies are not uncommon."

"So you have them too?" I asked, eagerly.

"This isn't meant to be about me..."

"Yes, but I'm curious, it might help me understand a little better." Suddenly I felt like the therapist.

"I don't see how?" She had me there. I think I was just too afraid to ask her if her knickers were getting as wet as mine.

"It's just you said that you found my story exciting and you've admitted that it's common for people to have taboo fantasies such as mine." Now I felt like I was cross examining her. "So I can't help but be curious to know if you are the same." I should not have been feeling this excited.

Liz's face became redder, she was embarrassed. I didn't think she was capable of being embarrassed. "Maybe we ought to call it a day?" She was trying to get rid of me. Did this mean I was right?

I looked at my watch. "But we still have forty minutes." I wasn't about to let her off that easy.

Liz sighed. "Okay, but I must insist that we move on to a different topic." She was trying to wrestle back control. I wasn't about to allow that. There was something there, I had to dig deeper.

"All I want to know is if you have fantasies like I do?" Despite my inner excitement, my tone remained calm and inquisitive.

"I cannot answer that." She continued to resist.

"Why?" I gently pressed her. My tone was soft, but the animal inside of me was rattling at its cage door.

"Because that is personal to me." She crossed her legs and pressed them together tightly. Was she wet? Was this all too much for her? My therapist's pussy was now firmly in mind.

I took pause for second. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable." Looking down where her legs crossed.

"It's okay, I'm just a little..."

"Wet?" I jumped in without any hesitation.

Liz was stunned. "I don't..."

I cut her off. "It's okay if you are..." I tried to be nonchalant. That hung in the air for an eternity. "Why not just be honest with me, Liz?" I asked, ending the eternal silence. "What harm will it do?"

Liz took a deep breath and composed herself. "I have similar fantasies to you." I'd finally cracked her.

I smiled back. "You do?"

"Yes." She confirmed with a deep sigh. She looked a touch worn out from my relentless questioning.

I wasn't done, though. "And they're about your son?"

"I don't have a son." She replied.

Not for the first time during this session I was confused. "I thought Casey was a he?"

Liz shook her head. "No, Casey is a she."

It took a second before it dawned on me what this meant. My heart nearly burst out of my chest. Liz fantasises about her daughter. Is Liz gay? We've never discussed her preferences before. All she had ever told me is that she was divorced. Could it be that she found the idea of me naked exciting? "I don't mean to pry, but are you... gay?"

"I think you've pried plenty already."

"Sorry."

She looked at me, she looked scared to admit it. "I've told you what you wanted to know." She said, "Let's just leave it there."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I felt bad, but that animal was now ready to knock down the cage door. "But I just feel like we've come this far..." Subtlety has never been one of my strong points.

Liz looked up to the heavens. "Yes, I'm gay." I could see Liz's chest was moving heavier than before.

I smiled softly at her. "Are you out?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am."

"How long?"

She shifted in her chair again. "About fifteen years."

"Wow, good for you." I hoped that I didn't sound condescending.

"Thank you."

My level of intrigue had sky-rocketed further. "If you are gay, how come you found my story so exciting?"

Liz shrugged. "Terms such as 'gay' or 'straight' are so binary." She started. "You have admitted to me that you have been watching gay porn; does this mean you are gay?"

I felt a bit daft. "I guess you're right."

"We don't choose what we are physically and mentally stimulated by." Liz was taking me to school. "I may identify as gay, but I can still be stimulated by your story, and..." She paused for a second. "let's not forget that there is a naked woman in your story."

My eyes widened. She was thinking about me. Naked me. "That's very... erotic." Goodness me I felt heated. My mind was a mess. I kept thinking of those mother/daughter videos I'd been consuming and placing Liz in the mother role. My lesbian intrigue was peaking.

"I hope that this information has helped." Her tone may have been jokey, but she was desperate to wrap this up, I could see it on her face.

I wasn't ready though. "So, is me being naked in the story exciting to you?"

"I'm not going to answer that." She replied firmly.

I switched lanes. "Do you think about her when you masturbate?" The animal was now firmly out of the cage. "Your daughter, I mean." My heat and lust were in charge now.

Poor Liz, she was fighting so hard to keep composed. "I can't... answer that." She squeezed her legs tighter as she stumbled over her words.

My knickers were now stuck to my sodden snatch. "You do, don't you?" I pressed, smiling at her.

Sweat was visible on her brow, her bountiful breasts were heaving, she was breaking under my relentless pressure. "We really should finish up." She said. I kept thinking that if she really wanted me to stop she would have forced me out by now. She was too strong a woman to be that polite.

"Tell me." I pushed. "Please." I begged.

Liz looked me dead in the eyes. "Yes, I think about her." She confessed. "I think about her all the time."

"When you play with yourself?" I sat forward, eager to hear more.

"Yes, when I... play with myself." Her demeanour changed with that confession. She was no longer fighting me, or herself. Amazingly, I think I had her. "Happy now that you've dragged it out of me!?" She chuckled.

"Do you think about her pussy?" God, I was gushing in my knickers.

Liz looked at me sternly "That's enough."

"Come on, tell me." I was being way beyond cheeky.

"There are lines that we are not meant to cross and this is certainly one of them." She was getting desperate.

"But we've crossed so many lines already; what will it hurt to cross a few more?" This was a side of myself I never knew existed. This was just pure, unchecked lust.

Liz looked at me, her breathing still heavy. She could surely see the fire in my eyes. "Yes." Was all she uttered.

"Yes?" I teasingly queried.

Liz shook her head. "Yes, I think about her... vagina."

I smiled a filthy smile. The carnal beast that lived within my mind had been made flesh and it could smell its prey. "Have you seen it?" I asked.

Liz sighed. "She often walks around the house nude, so yes." She slipped off her cream blazer and tossed it aside. I almost squealed when I saw how hard her nipples were. The poor things were desperately straining against her blouse.

"Oh, my." That sounded so delicious to me. A pretty young woman wondering around the house in the nude. Jesus, my body was tingling.

"Quite." Liz looked to compose herself a little. "Please can we call it a day now?"

"But I have so much more to ask." Well, my sopping cunt did.

Liz gave me an anguished look. "I've already given away far more than I should have."

"Okay, okay, only one more question, is that alright?."

Liz sighed and reluctantly indulged me once again. "Go ahead."

I sat as far forward as I could on the sofa. "Are you wet?" I wish I had this level of courage when I wasn't horny. Imagine what I could have achieved!

Liz studied me before answering. "Yes."

"Have you been thinking about me naked?"

"Yes."

Emboldened and excited by her admission I continued. "Will you masturbate when I leave?"

She scratched her eyebrow. "Yes, I probably will."

I could have sworn that a whole new wave flooded my knickers. "Can I stay?" I boldly asked. Who the hell was I?

"Our hour is up." Liz shrugged.

"When is your next client?" I quickly fired back.

Liz looked at her watch. "Not for another hour." She looked right back at me. I swallowed hard. A piercing silence hung in the air as we both looked at one another, studying each others faces. I could see there was a desire in Liz's eyes. I know there was nothing but in mine. We just sat there and stared deep into one another's eyes. I reached for the top button of my blouse and I unfastened it. As I did I reminded myself that if she didn't want me to do this she could easily have insisted I leave. She could have stormed out, but she didn't. I unfastened two more. Still Liz sat there, in silence, watching me. Not uttering a word of protest, just bulging eyes. Another two buttons. I could feel my sex throbbing in my down below. It was calling to me, it needed my attention, but I remained focussed on my blouse buttons. I reached the bottom and the final button came undone. My blouse parted. The skin of my tummy and my hefty cleavage both now visible.

I grabbed either side of my blouse and looked at Liz. She sat silently, starring. Still not a word. I took this as a green light and I slipped the blouse off my shoulders and placed it to my side. Despite all my bravado I now felt a huge pang of nervousness; I tried not to shake as I sat there in my white lace bra. Liz's eyes glued firmly to my cleavage. Still she sat there silent. What was I expecting from her? I was the one that started all this. Was I about to back down now?

My wet sex resumed control from my brain. Keeping my hands as steady as I could, I lifted my them to my big swollen tits and slipped my fingers inside my bra cups. My nails gently grazed my rock-hard nipples and I gasped. I was so horny I was hyperventilating. At the same time I was petrified. Could I do this? Could I really expose myself like this? I sucked in my stomach and I grasped the lining of my bra. I was doing this.

Our eyes were locked and I slowly pulled downwards on the large lacey double D cups. Not once as my bra made its descent did I break eye contact with my therapist. I wondered if she could see the fear in my eyes? She gave nothing away, no words, nothing. She just watched; her own eyes just glazed slightly. I let out the softest moan as the lining of my bra scraped over the tips of my fat nipples. It was torture. And out they popped, for all the world to see, but more specifically in this instance, for all of Liz to see. Her eyes were glued to them. Her mouth was slightly agape. I had never felt so charged in all my life. God, I felt so naughty. I felt such a slut.

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