Chapter 1: Undressings

I knocked on the door to her office, nervous.

Over the past week or so, I had noticed her seeming to present herself unusually sad and had wanted to provide a support beam for her without overstepping my boundaries as a client.

She asked through the door who it was, so I answered, and she said I could enter, so I did.

My therapist sat in front of me inside her office, was just barely wiping the last of the tears off her face. Hiding my concern, I sunk in the cushy armchair opposing her, and we began to talk casually about things that were going on in my life while I flirted with her with my eyes.

I couldn't help it. She's a gorgeous woman.

I wanted to take her and gently strip her down bare, then spend time just *feeling* her body, kissing and stroking and loving until she got wet for me, unless she already secretly was. I have never been much for hiding my emotions, quite a bit of a see-through person in terms of objectives. She was a trained therapist, probably a bit more versed at subterfuge than I.

The office was decorated with a bookshelf, multiple cushy arm chairs, a desk with a computer and a swivel chair where she sat, inspiring pictures, and plants.

The angst level of me typing and telling you this story right now after recently breaking over a decade-long hiatus from creative writing with my Vice President Kamala Harris erotic action-thriller novel notes (search post history for "Kamala") is completely off-the-charts and beyond-the-level, let me tell you right now. This is some middle school crush bullshit I feel crushed under, so let me just . . . bleh.

I have envisioned making love to this woman in dozens of positions so far, and I only desire to imagine more. Because she seems so intelligent in addition to beautiful, I just want her all to myself.

However, she has a husband. This presents a slight problem.

Most times, men think of women playing together as cute or flirty, nothing to really be stressed over in a jealous way, but sometimes, men can be jealous of lesbians, especially when involved with one of them.

Not saying that she and I were ever in lesbians, but if we were (her image appears in my head, eyebrow cocked with a seductive smirk -- that's a maybe), then I would have no idea what to do except my best in my every endeavor.

I have already been doing better and cleaned my room. I feel more validated as a human being after talking with her for a few minutes. After briefly leaving the room to grab an item I had wanted to show her and returning to her again hiding her tears, I felt at a considerate loss for what to do. What can I do? I want to help.

She's a few inches taller than me. In an embrace, I could lay my head on her chest, and her head could rest on top of my head.

I know I'm a creep bitch. I have been diagnosed as having bipolar disorder type 1 with psychotic features, and one of the psychotic features is sexual psychosis, which I write this to take hold of and avoid entering. Sexual psychosis is a hassle. It stems from hypersexuality, which can be a symptom of bipolar disorder. Most people with the condition manage it well and do not willingly become total creepy weirdos, as one might suspect. I attempt to balance my urges with discipline and focus on the task at hand in the presence of others instead of imagining their bodies touching mine.

Although hypersexuality means yes, I have thought of it in an intrusive or compulsive thinking type of way, at least. No, I probably decided not to actually do it . . . but yes, I have thought of it, as far as sex with people goes.

I love to jerk off but they have blocked the porn on the wifi, so it was down to the lesbian makeout videos on youtube, and that, after a while, was no longer cutting it right for me. I needed a real release. I needed to feel the body of a sexy grown woman in my hands, to run my hands over her thighs held tight in her summer dress, across her back and over her breasts, caressing her every curve and giving her the kind of attention I think she needed and deserved.

I wondered what her breasts looked like. I wondered what her pussy looked like. I would love to smell and taste that beautiful puss-puss of hers, especially freshly shaved. I have a thing for freshly shaved pussy. And we could rub our smooth little pussies together, tribbing. I personally have a bit of a fat pussy and think she, being about the same size, might too. I hope so.

The only way I can fuck this incredibly sexy woman who won't get out of my thoughts is if I leave this program and we remain in contact afterwards, strong maybe.

I don't just like to make love.

I like to fuck.

Fuck me hard like a dirty little slut because I love it, and I need regular hard fuckings in order to present myself as a good girl instead of acting out like a bad girl. I noticed a while back that I need to be fucked into submission. Otherwise, I get very contradictory and tend to play not as well with others.

I need this woman so badly.

Update, later in the day:

I have two more women I need in my life. This is getting to be total insanity. There's this woman I met outside who's so beautiful and another beautiful woman just now who acted flirty with me in a shy way, swaying her hips a little bit then checking to see if I saw. This is like . . . the last half of summer, or something, and all the ladies I've met have been pretty horny at this time. Not to even mention the other woman I met . . . there's like four or five women in total that I'm in various degrees of falling in lesbians with, and I don't think that's okay, but also, as a healthy 29-year-old woman, I feel like my sex drive is relatively normal for this time of the season.

I love this. I never want this to end.

I should have gotten into the shower with her, the first woman, when she was talking about masturbating in the shower. Then she offered to give me a massage. Oh my goodness I want to fuck her brains out. I have harbored a secret crush on the woman who swayed her hips a little for me for months now. She's so adorable and she just seems like she'd be really kinky in bed.

I want to try every flavor.

Chasing skirts in the summer sun. Oh my goodness that little hip sway got me so turned on. I want to go talk to her but I have no reason to right now. I feel like I need a reason.

I'll explore these fantasies in writing with you all, and in the meantime, work on my writing skills.

SICK! Let's do it!