Marjorie’s laptop chimed, the little blue rectangle sliding onto the corner of her screen. It said, “Five Minute Reminder: Billy.” She sighed and flipped the lid closed, pulling out the pocket mirror from her purse. She examined herself for flaws in her hair or makeup, pleased to see that the long day had neither upset her subtle cosmetics nor flattened her bronze waves. She re-applied light pink lipstick, her one concession to obvious enhancement, but even then, it was only a shade darker than her natural color. Patients were more open with happy, attractive people, she knew. She straightened her shimmering mauve blouse and practiced her friendly smile.

Billy was at all times on time. So at six-thirty on the dot, when the rap of fist rattled her office door, Marjorie was ready. “Come in.”

A cute young woman with hair so blonde it was nearly white leaned in, holding the door open. Passing by her was a tall, broad boy. His eyes were on the carpeting and walls and he moved hurriedly, as if ashamed of his own size. He was quick to slide one of the metal-framed chairs out from Marjorie’s desk and huddle down into it, folding his long limbs inwards, hinting at but stopping shy of a fetal curl.

“So…” the blonde woman said, “Since Billy here’s your last of the day, can I…”

Marjorie forced her eyes to not roll. “Yes, Annie. Wrap up and go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Doctor Everson.” She closed the door behind her.

The receptionist was attractive, and not much older than Billy, yet he had never even glanced at her. Marjorie sighed. “So, Billy.”

“Last time, huh?” he chuckled awkwardly

“I’ll always just be a zoom call away, Billy,” Marjorie said, “Even if you’re off having an amazing time on your internship in… where was it? Switzerland? This is modern times. You don’t need to meet with your therapist in-person anymore.”

He looked up, his gaze almost meeting hers. “It’s not the same, though, is it?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to miss my office?” She gestured at the white walls, the cheap wood paneling and cramped confines. Therapist offices had the reputation of being stately and refined, but not this one. Marjorie’s facility was a too-small box of a room, the sole window providing a view of nothing but the neighboring building’s beige stucco. She had done her best to liven the place up, bringing in potted plants and warmer lighting, but there was only so much window dressing could achieve.

“Well, no, not the physical space,” he said, picking at the grain in her desk. That, at least, was real wood. “But it’s been good, you’ve really helped me.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she smiled, “And I see it in you, too. Even a year ago, you wouldn’t have been comfortable saying what you’ve just said.”

“You think?” he looked at her, a rare instance of him daring to make eye contact. His eyes were brown and intense, a capstone on features which had grown increasingly handsome as he’d matured into an adult.

That look, infrequent as it was, she treasured. Not just as an emblem of her success, but … Marjorie didn’t like to admit how it made her feel, yet she acknowledged that she was gonna miss it. And then the guilt came. Just having those thoughts was a violation of Billy’s trust, and she pushed them away, back into the dark corner from which they came. “I know so, Billy. You’ve got friends now, right?”

“Two friends. Maybe three.”

“That’s progress. That’s two or three more friends than you had when you first met me. And you’re not feeling angry all the time anymore, are you? Remember how you used to punch the walls?”

A sardonic smile grew on his face. “There’s still a hole in my closet my parents don’t know about yet.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Many boys going through what you did acted out similarly. But the point is you grew out of it.”

“I’m not a boy anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” Marjorie agreed, feeling her cheeks flush and smiling to herself before pushing the wondered away, again. “This international internship? That’s… incredible. Not just for you, but for anyone. It shows real maturity. I’m really very proud of you, you know.”

A shadow passed over his face and his posture drooped. “I still don’t have a girlfriend, though.”

She flashed back to his non-interaction with her receptionist. “Have you asked anyone on a date?”

“That’s– it’s not really…” he stumbled, “It’s not that easy. It doesn’t work that way.”

She leaned back into her padded chair, the leather creaking. “How does it work, then?”

“Nobody goes on dates anymore. Girls, they just want to hang out. Chill. You know?”

“So what’s the problem then?” A basic technique, really — don’t feed the patient answers, let them find their own way out. Basic, yet effective.

“I– I don’t know what to do. Like, next.” When Marjorie didn’t say anything, he continued. “Like, we’re hanging out, and there’s this one girl there, Kaitlyn, who I guess I like or whatever. Or at least, I’d be interested, right? So then, like, what? How do I, like, go to the next step?”

“Mmm,” she nodded, “And what’s the next step?”

“I don’t know?” Billy was growing exasperated, his timbre rising, his fists clenching. “Like, making out or something?”

“So do you want to date Kaitlyn, or are you just interested in having sex with her?”

He clenched his jaw, his eyes flitting back and forth unfocused. “I don’t know. Both?” Then, buried in a whimpering sound, he added, “I just don’t want to go to Geneva still a virgin.”

“Ah,” Marjorie smiled knowingly. “It’s completely healthy to want sex, Billy. You shouldn’t feel ashamed. And you might be surprised how many adults, even twenty-year-old’s like yourself, have never had sex. There’s a powerful social stigma that makes people afraid to discuss it. But you’re–”

He cut her off, “How old were you? For your first time, I mean.”

She moved her mouth wordlessly, taken aback by the sudden turn. “This– this isn’t about me, Billy. I’m your doc–”

“You’re my doctor, I know, I know. But c’mon. I’ve been coming to you for years, and today’s the last time you’ll see me.”

“Uh…” Marjorie stumbled, so unlike her, the objection queuing up in her mind but remaining undelivered. She swallowed, the old memories resurfacing. “Fifteen,” she said distantly.

“Fifteen? Geez. See?” His tone was accusative. “How can you understand someone like me?”

“That’s not–” she shook her head, fighting to regain her composure, “Everyone’s different, Billy. You know that. My experience… it wasn’t… traumatic. But I regret not waiting. I wasn’t old enough.”

“Hot people always say stuff like that.”

Now Marjorie was really thrown off. “What?”

“You’re always going on about you have so much sex and how it’s such a burden that people want to have sex with you and–”

“I’m sorry,” Marjorie interjected, frowning, “Who are you talking about?”

“You,” Billy said, “Hot people.”

Marjorie stood up and glowered. “First off, I shared with you something I now think I shouldn’t have. I am not having ‘so much sex,’ Billy. That’s not what I said, not at all.”

His eyes widened and his mouth moved to respond, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“Second of all, why do you have it in your head that you’re ugly? You’re tall and handsome and trim and it’s plain as day that you’re a good looking guy, anyone can see that.” She walked around her desk to scowl down at Billy in the chair. He cowered. “And lastly, where do you get off calling me ‘hot’? I’m your therapist. I’m old enough to be your mother.”

At that, his brow furrowed and he looked up at her. “I think you’d have to have been a teen mom.”

“Not the point!” She sighed, her momentary anger dissipating as quickly as it came on, and she leaned back, resting her butt on her desktop. Her charcoal pencil skirt wrapped tightly around her legs as she crossed one over the other.

She caught his eyes tracking their movement before his gaze scurried away abashedly. Had he at all times done that? How had she not noticed that before? The words blurted from her, “Billy, are you attracted to me?”

He sunk into his chair, his guilt and embarrassment at being called out mixing with something like confusion. “I mean, well, yeah. You didn’t know that?”

“How would I know that?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“No. It was not obvious.”

“Oh. Um. You’re… um… very pretty.”

“Billy.”

He turned his head up, his gaze meeting hers. “What?”

A thousand thoughts rushed through her head, a thousand different methods to shut this down, to turn this conversation around, to get back to somewhere healthy and productive and appropriate. But this was also the last time Billy would be in her office, and he had a issue, a issue he was asking her to help him solve. A issue she, uniquely, could solve for him. “Why don’t you take your clothes off, Billy.”

He gasped. “What?”

“We’re going to going to work on these things you’ve told me.” What was her mouth doing? “You’re nervous, Billy. We’ll work on getting you familiar with talking to a woman you’re attracted to while you’re in nothing but underwear.” What were these crazy things it was saying?

“Really?” He was curling his limbs in, pulling up his defenses.

Marjorie bit her lip to suppress a giggle, working to put on a serious face. “Don’t retreat from this, Billy. You want my help with making girlfriends, don’t you?”

He gritted his teeth, so nervous he was almost shaking. But Marjorie held herself steady, pushing her will on him through imposing silence, until slowly, he nodded. “Ok,” he whispered.

“Good,” she grinned, “Stand up. Shirt off.”

He did as he was told, and when Marjorie pointed at the empty chair in the corner, he set his clothes down there. First came his shirt, then his shoes, socks, pants. He stood in red boxers, shoulders hunched, cowering.

“Excellent,” Marjorie grinned, eyeing his bulge. “How do you feel, Billy?”

“I’m– I’m fine,” he lied.

While he looked away, she drank in his near-nude body. She found herself discretely flicking open the topmost button on her blouse. “Have you ever been this naked around a woman before?”

He ground his jaw. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“You’re not wearing any less clothing than you would, at say, the beach, right?”

“This is different.” His voice was a quiet rumble, and he still hadn’t looked at her.

“How so?”

“These are my underwear,” he said, exasperated, “And at the beach I always leave my shirt on. And we’re not at the beach, we’re in your office. Alone. And–”

She waited for him to finish, and when she didn’t, she prompted him, “And what?”

“And at the beach, I wouldn’t be the only one … like this. Everyone would be– the same.” He wiggled nervously.

Marjorie smiled and sat down on the chair next to him, reaching out and rubbing his bare knee. “Do you want me to take my clothes off, too, Billy?”

“What?” his eyes bulged, his legs freezing in place, “No! I… uh…”

She said gently, “No, I suppose we shouldn’t do that, should we?”

His breath was staccato, quick. “What? I mean–”

“Are you afraid that you’ll get an erection, Billy?” She ran her fingertips around his knee, his tension obvious as his muscles clenched. “I wouldn’t be offended if you do, you know.”

“I–”

“You need to work through this,” she said, leaning forward, “You can’t live in fear of your own body.”

His eyes flicked to her chest, at the cleavage she was showing him through the unclasped buttons. He clenched his teeth.

A new smile spread across her face. “If that’s what you want, Billy, you have to ask.”

“What?” he squeaked.

She wasn’t having it. “No, don’t play innocent with me. That won’t work here, not if you want to get something out of this session.” She dragged her fingertips up from his knee to run casual circles on his inner thigh, licking her lips when she saw the bulge in his shorts expand, the outline of a thick phallus forming in the fabric.

He pinched his face up like he was in pain. “I don’t…”

“You don’t what, Billy?” she barked, “Where do get off calling me some sex-crazed whore, when you can’t even admit to your own desires?” As she yelled at him, she watched, fascinated, as his erection grew.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he whimpered, “I was just, I don’t know…”

“Do you even realize how hard you are, right now?”

He whinnied, “Oh no…”

“Take your shorts off, Billy, before you make a mess in them.” Her tone was harsh.

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He head wheeled side to side, frantic, like he was looking for an escape.

“Now! Stand up!”

He whimpered as he stood, a rude tent of tight fabric bulging from his boxers. With his eyes pinched closed, he pushed them down, and they slipped to the floor.

Marjorie’s eyes widened and a smile spread involuntarily across her lips. Billy’s cock had sprung free from his shorts, hard as a drainpipe, thick and long, with a glistening head. Clinging to its base were two fat balls the size of lemons. “Sweet Jesus,” she muttered under her breath.

He moved to sit back down, but she swatted at his dick, making it swing to the side before springing stiffly back into place. “Ow!”

“Absolutely not,” she said. She took his erection into her fist, giving it a few exploratory pumps, listening to him gasp as she touched his most sensitive skin.

“What’re you doing?” he whined.

She arched an eyebrow. “What does it look like?” She thumbed his glans, rubbing his precum into his penis.

“But–”

“But nothing. You wanted my help. Well, you’re going to get it.” She stroked the top of his shaft, feeling his heat.

His voice was shaky. “I don’t think–”

“Your balls are full of tension, Billy,” she said, gently grabbing hold of them.

He groaned, rolling his head back as his eyelids fluttered.

Marjorie grinned as she felt the weight of his sac, palming the twin fat orbs. She ran her fingertips over his taut skin, making him buck and heave. “Interesting,” she said, pushing her fingers into them, squeezing and tugging on them. “No wonder you’re so frustrated, Billy.”

“What?” he squeaked, his cock surging, bulging with need.

“Do you not masturbate, Billy?”

He gasped. “They– they said not to!”

She toyed with his nuts, tickling them, applying just the barest pressure. “Who’s ‘they?’”

“I don’t know!” he said, exasperated and blushing, “Just, ‘they,’ doctors and… and… I don’t know.”

Marjorie considered this, all the while continuing the torment of Billy’s testicles, endlessly teasing them while more and more precum dripped down his dick. “You are one horny boy,” she said, biting her lip, “Billy, look at me.”

“Why?” he said. But he did it anyway, pulling his chin down and forcing his eyes opened. Their eyes met, and she read the strain on his face, the stress that was feeding his furious and towering erection.

“Because I said so.” She dragged a single fingertip up from his balls, along the thick vein running under his shaft, and, dabbing in his precum, in little circles around his glans.

He growled, a ferocious roar of a sound, and his cock twitched. A mighty rope of cum blasted out from his dick, spraying past Marjorie and into the room, smearing down the wall opposite.

She giggled, pulling her finger away as another load shot from him, and then another, and another. Her hand returned to his balls, coaxing the spunk from them with delicate teases. Billy’s eyes were pinched closed as his semen was drained, as his orgasm was wasted and ruined.

He stood there obediently, letting his therapist torment him, until his knees gave out, and he collapsed back on his chair. He looked down in horror at the mess he’d made, at the still furiously stiff state of his dick.

“What’d you do?” he hissed. His erection remained every bit as fierce as it had been, the spoiled orgasm having done nothing to sate his need.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that to you,” Marjorie grinned, licking her lips as she stared at his penis. “And since you’re still hard, well, it’d be a shame in letting a boner like that go to waste.”

“What?” Billy whimpered.

But she was already standing, unbuttoning her blouse, unzipping her skirt. Her clothes joined Billy’s on the chair in the corner, and she stood before him in her dark underwear. His eyes flitted back and forth between her bra and panties. “Still don’t know what to do around a woman, Billy? Do you need me to tell you?”

His eyes were wide, but at her taunting, they narrowed. He clenched his jaw, growing resolute, growing angry. Renewed, he got back to his feet and stood proud, his hunch gone. Tall as she was, Billy was even taller, and he looked down at her with something between lust and fury.

Seeing this, her breath caught, and she took an involuntary step back.

Billy took a step forward.

She moved back again, but his hand landed on her shoulder, holding her in place. “Oh,” she said.

He pushed her back onto her desk and stood over her, lifting her legs up in the air. He yanked her panties off her roughly, tearing them away, discarding them.

And then he drove his shaft into Marjorie’s pussy. He went deeper and deeper, giving her the full length of his erection, stopping only when he could go no further.

“Fuck, Billy,” she gasped, “You’ve got to build up to that!”

He ignored her, pulling out only to shove himself back in anew. Even inexperienced as he was, he knew instinctively how to fuck, the way all animals do. With teeth gritted and an inferno in his eye, he slammed his obscenely large dick into his therapist, driving his actions by what felt good, what felt right.

Marjorie fell to the sway of his raw virility, basking in the consequences of the beast she’d released. As he used her to sate his need, she watched him. She watched his muscles bulge and strain, watched his frantic energy work itself out into a steady pace, watched the novel bliss of sex wrestle its way into his psyche.

Billy felt his need create and create, the knowledge of what was coming not even slightly dimming the journey there. And yet, in his fantasies, this wasn’t the way the encounter went, this wasn’t the way he fucked his therapist.

He pulled out.

“What–?” Marjorie gasped.

“Turn over,” he growled.

Marjorie turned over, bending face down over her desk. Her feet were spread, her ass up. Billy was grabbing it, fumbling and inexpert but full of horny need. He slid his dick up to her crotch, and then he was inside her pussy again, pounding away, driving her into her desk with his thrusts.

Marjorie groaned as she took his potent longing, holding onto her desktop for support.

And then Billy was ramming his hips into hers, pressing into her with wild strength as he groaned loud and low. Warmth exploded inside her as his cum shot free for the second time that night.

Afterwards, as Marjorie was pulling her outfit back together, Billy was resting in his same chair, head between his hands. “No,” she said, “Not allowed.”

“What?”

“You got what you wanted, Billy. You’ve gotten laid, yes. But more than that, I saw you. You were confident, powerful, in charge. Don’t let that go, don’t go hiding back meekly in who you used to be.”

“But–”

“But nothing. I saw you become who you’ve always wanted to be. Now, go. Go off to Switzerland. Find yourself a nice Swiss girlfriend, someone who will fuck your brains out. Any of them would be lucky to have you.” Then she added under her breath, wincing, “If they can fit you.”

He shrugged, looking around her office. “What about the mess?”

“Billy, go!” she barked, “You’ve been a great patient. But our time is up. Have a great life.”

“What, just like that?”

“Yep,” she smiled, “Just like that.”

NSFW: yes