Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“Slow…I need this slow,” he growls. With our eyes entranced on each other he gently rides me to orgasm and I feel him swell inside me. His quivering breath tells me how close he is. He rolls me over while still inside me and starts to gently move as he kisses me deeply, never breaking precious contact. With one, two, three pumps I feel his hot seed burn me from the inside out and he buries his head into my neck and stays perfectly still while trying to catch his breath, and then I feel it. Something hot runs down the side of my neck and drops onto my shoulder. That was a fucking tear…not mine but his. What in the hell is going on here? That was the gentlest loving sex we have ever had, so why in the hell is he crying? I have a lump in my throat and am unable to speak as I try and process what to say. What’s wrong? He kisses me again, this time more urgently and, that is it, he’s reached his gentle limit. He withdraws and starts to really warm me up, until I don’t think I can it take anymore and then we are hard at it. My hands are being held up above my head and he is making love to me like his life depends on it. Strong, powerful strokes where the bed is hitting the wall and I am gasping for breath.
I think I fell into an exhausted sleep after round five and then I think I woke hours later to find Josh tenderly taking me while I slept as he whispered how much he loved me into my ear, but I can’t be sure if it was a dream or reality. Either way it was perfect.
When I woke up, he was gone, and I was left with a sick uneasy feeling in my gut.
It’s seven pm and I haven’t heard from Joshua all day and have decided I’m not ringing him. I don’t know what his problem is,
but I do know for certain he loves me. He proved that last night. He will call me, I hope. At 1 a.m. I fall into an exhausted sleep hoping I will be awoken by the sound of keys in my door. I don’t and when my alarm goes off at six I feel like I have been hit by a truck. I drag my fat ass around, feeling sorry for myself, and end up getting to work late. Shit. I have a booked-out morning but thankfully a slow afternoon so I chastise myself not to think about him until then.
I read through the case notes of my next appointment.
Patient: Aaron Marshall:
Referral: Dr Parker
Symptom: Erectile malfunction
Aaron is a new patient that I haven’t seen before. I show him in, and he takes a seat nervously on my couch.
“Hi, Aaron, my name is Natasha Marx. I will be looking after you.”
He nods and looks down unimpressed. “OK. I did ask if I could have a male therapist.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You have been booked in with me for some reason. I can see if a male psychologist can see you. That’s fine. You are here because of erectile malfunction, am I right?”
He looks down and shakes his head. “No, I lied to my doctor to get a referral to see you guys.”
I frown. “OK, what is the problem, Aaron? So, I can recommend the right person to see you.”
He lifts his head and looks at me, “I’m not talking to a female child about my problem. Is there a male here or not?”
Mmm, cranky pants. I smile. “That’s fine, come back through to reception and we will get someone else to see you.”
He grunts in response. I show him to the reception and arrange for him to see someone else. Every time my confidence rises a little at work, I encounter a client like this, and I am quickly reminded of my age and lack of experience. Apparently, it happens to everyone in this field when they first start. It’s bloody annoying.
At one our receptionist knocks on my door. “Excuse me, Natasha, but your sister has called for you six times. She said it’s urgent.”
I frown. “Thanks. I will ring her now.” I dial Bridget’s number and she picks up first ring.
“Tash, baby, are you OK?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be OK?” I ask.
She stays silent down the line. “Tash,” she whispers with tears in her voice. “Turn your Google on, honey.” A sick feeling drops in my stomach as I click onto my Google page and my Google alert drops. I click onto the link to Joshua. Oh my fuck. I put my hand up to my mouth in shock. A barrage of images hits me like a cement truck and the tears start to freely run down my face. Images of Josh kissing a brunette outside a strip club and then getting into his car with her. Joshua was with someone else last night.