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💋A Feminist’s Need💋

By Kris Green

Copyright ©2024

“I want her to sit on my face.” Jim said sitting across from me looking down. “I tried asking for more; she doesn’t want it. I want to be happily married, but I have needs, desires.”

“A woman’s sexuality isn’t something you should mess with.” I told him. “It’s something you should honor and respect. It’s something she needs to discover on her own not be led to like she’s some kind of slave.”

 Often, patients come to me thinking they have one problem when usually they have another. The clock behind him ticked in the silence. I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them the other way. I caught him taking a tentative glance at them before looking away. Most of the time he spoke, he didn’t make eye contact. It was hard for him to talk about feelings. Men seem to struggle with this. I felt grateful for my partner, William who shared openly and frankly with me everything he wanted and needed.

“I don’t know.” A phrase he insisted on using because he was trying not to sound so self-assured. “I can’t sleep. I lay in bed thinking about all the things I want to do; I can’t get the thoughts out of me. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

 I didn’t like Jim. Thinking even sillily to myself, if we were together, I’d call him James, not Jim. Jim sounds like some kind of cretin. A big bumbling idiot who wanted to find out how he could get his wife to do whatever perverse desire he wanted in the bedroom. He seemed more like a caveman hitting a woman over the head and dragging her back to his cave. His very presence in this place surprised me. Men like this don’t get help; they get new marriages or have affairs.

When he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice was gruff, almost savage as he spoke my name. “Denise,”

 “Dr. Pritchett.” I corrected. I wanted to maintain my control in this session.

I had talked about him to my partner, William. Nothing specific, nothing that would get me in trouble. Do you have any unfulfilled desires with me? William shook his head. Then as Jim blamed his wife for their struggling marriage, the feeling of disdain grew fresh.  

“I’m sorry.” He visibly tried to control himself, “I just have needs, you know. I have desires. A marriage is supposed to be a partnership and ever since the kid, who I love, don’t get me wrong, I’m getting nothing. I am so wrapped up with desire, I think I’m going to lose it.”

I was an unwise question. I know that now. But I was curious. I thought it might be relevant.

“What do you want to do to your wife?”

“I want to tie her up.” He let out a little kind of exhale through his nose and folded his hands. He spoke low, eyes staring at my carpet as if I had been scolding him.

I did not expect what he said. Although I should have, a man who felt powerless would look for power sexually. He didn’t see the expression on my face of disgust. But as he spoke, his words moved quickly and excitedly as he spoke in more detail of what he wanted to do.

“I want to slowly bound her hands loosely above her head. I want to kiss slowly from her lips to her neck to her breasts while my hands searching her freely. I want to please her completely. An orgasm shouldn’t end with one.”

I pressed my legs together pinching my clitoris to release a small little pop of an orgasm. I was moist already from just the little bit he had said. Thinking of his big hands on me, I couldn’t help the arousal. My breathing grew heavy, and I felt warm with desire myself.

“Are you okay?” He asked looking up at me.

“Go on, James.”

“I want her pussy to ride my face. I want her to cum so hard it drips down my cheeks. I want her to crave me, my…”

“Your cock?” I said surprising myself never saying the word myself.

His eyes bore through me. I was so wet. I had to maintain control. I glanced toward his pants unable to help myself seeing the bulge of his arousal making a tent. He rose. My eyes couldn’t leave his cock. He walked toward me emanating with desire.

“James, patients are…”

 He grabbed my hand and brought me to my feet.

 “We’re not to…” I tried again.

  “I can smell your desire.” He whispered into my ear before kissing gently into my neck.

 His fingers reached toward my lowcut top. I was breathing heavily I raised my hand in protest but as he carefully reached in and fingered my nipples, I no longer thought about the taboo act we were in the midst of. I didn’t think of our spouses. I thought of nothing as I closed my eyes and let out a moan.

Later, I would feel guilty sitting across from my husband at our dinner table. He was chewing his food like some kind of sheep. I stared at him thinking he was so easily controlled. He let me be in control all the time. I’m a feminist, I thought absurdly. I needed control. It is my right.

Why was I so easily controlled by a man like this? This man, who was more of a wolf than a sheep, kissed into my neck. His hands searched my body. I felt the buttons of my blouse threated to pop as he played with my breasts, kissing my lips. My panties were sopping and never had I felt so aroused so quickly. I put my hand on his chest to push him away, but in the same second, I wanted him closer. I wanted him in me.

He stopped with my timer went off. He paused. I lifted a finger and picked up my phone sending a quick text before putting my phone down.

“You canceled your next patient?” He asked.

My phone dinged and I looked at it. A thumbs up emoticon and I put the phone back down. I smiled and nodded.

He grabbed my blouse popping off the buttons finally as he drew me toward his lips freeing my breasts for his lips. He grinned as he kissed me and grabbed my breasts. I grabbed at his shirt and then he drifted down, pulling down my stockings and panties under my skirt.

The clothes I wore as an expression of freedom had enticed him more. Showing cleavage, wearing stockings was an expression of my sexuality. Not dominated by men, but free to do as I pleased without thinking about men. As I stepped out of my stockings and panties, I could see it only excited him more. 

“You shouldn’t have canceled your last appointment of the day.” Smelling my panties and tossing them to the ground. He held my stockings in his hand as rose and brought me over to the couch. My office was growing thick with the smell of my sex.

The first spank surprised me, outraged me but when the second one hit, I felt my pussy moisten. I let out a small moan as his spank surprised me, but his fingers caressed my pussy with each slap. I felt wetting and my legs writhed wanting him. I tried to protest but I could feel his strength as he each spank aroused a more primitive need inside.

He rose and then grabbed my hands. Using my stockings, he roped them gently around my wrists and led me to a coat rack in the corner.

He put my wrists through one of the hooks of the coat rack. My hands hung just above my head. He took off his shirt and I could see to my surprise a chiseled masterpiece of the male figure. I hadn’t expected his abs. He unhooked my bra freeing my breasts completely his desires. They bounced out into his hands as he squeezed both of them.

He kissed my neck again and I let out a moan. He moved down toward my breasts, squeezing hard and suckling at my nipples. “Please” I whispered, needing wanting him to draw me into an orgasm. He rose and took me in. I could see his cock stiff in his pants as he grabbed my chin and lifted my face, so we stared into each other’s eyes.

“Please what?” he asked.

“What am I to you?”

I didn’t know what to say. When I didn’t say anything, he smiled and kissed me gently. I wanted him to rough. I wanted him to take me hard right now, but then pulling back, “You will see who I am to you.”

He kissed down to my navel and then when I hoped, longed for his tongue to circumnavigate my pussy, he went to my thighs. I let out a groan of protest and he rose and walked over to my discarded panties. He picked them up and used them to wipe up my juices from my pussy. He smelled them again before shoving them into my mouth. He looked at me. I could taste my own pussy and I felt it writhe more wanting him.

Kissing it tenderly, at first, his fingers pulled it apart so he could kiss more deeply, his tongue lapping into me. He pulled back and turned his back to me and leaned back. I stepped happily onto his face and rocked my pussy onto him. I felt the orgasm rise inside calling to come out as I felt his tongue lick happily. My hips rocked on his as I clenched my teeth on my panties stifling a cry.

When my legs quivered, I thought he would stop. I expected it but he pressed on, grabbing my hips and pulling me down onto his face. Rocking more his nose pushed into my asshole as his tongue buried itself into me. His fingers played on the hood of my clit as if he were playing and instrument. Something more was rising, and I wanted it. I bit down on my panties trying not to scream as I felt a trickle burst from my pussy.

I breathed heavily as he rose in front of me. He grabbed my panties and threw them to the ground. I could see my juices down his chin and face. He tasted his fingers and then put them inside me. I bounced a little and he put them in my mouth. I wanted to tell him I’d never squirted before. I wanted to tell him about how new, how exciting it was. But I knew he didn’t want me to speak.

When he untied my hands, I collapsed to my knees. Grateful, I pulled the cock from his pants. I licked it slowly from shaft to head. As I took it in my mouth, he grabbed the back of my head and forced me on it. I gagged a little. I cringed excited as he grabbed a fist of my hair.  Earnestly, I licked and sucked doing whatever I could to please him.

When I felt him burst down my throat, I wanted to spit it out. He lifted my chin up so I could see him. He smiled at me and I slowly swallowed. He nodded and moved his hands through my hair.

Feeling the dread that he might want to hug me, hold me, or anything, I trembled as he turned his back to me and grabbed his clothes. I panted as he quickly got dressed. I didn’t want a relationship; I didn’t need one. I had one. As he turned me, putting his shirt over his head, he smiled.

I smiled back thinking this was it. He was going to ask for something more. He was going to say something. I slowly stood grabbing my own clothes.

“Same time next week?”

Staring dumbly, I nodded.

“Great. Thanks.” Then as he paused at the door, he turned, “Maybe make me last appointment of the day. I have some things to work out.”

About Kris Green:

Kris Green lives in Florida. They've been published over 50 times and occasionally enjoys a good spank or two. 


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