Barbara Skinner - Lust is a many splendored thing

"No," Erin said, surprising herself at the quickness of her response.

"I mean, doing it slowly just give me more time to be nervous," she explained, and took another swallow of her wine.

"You've got the right attitude for success." Carla smiled warmly at her. "The first step is for us to interview you separately so that you won't be restricted by worries about hurting the other's feelings."

"So, Ben, if you'd like to accompany Carla into her office?" Jack suggested, opening a desk drawer to take out several forms.

"Oh, I thought Carla would…" Erin trailed off, looking from the brother to the sister, uncertain as to whether or not they were twins.

"Well, that's part of the slower way," Carla said with a soothing smile. "This way, you're in the process of lowering your repressions from the very start."

"Both of you have to think of yourselves, and one another, as if you were with doctors. If you're getting a physical examination, then you disrobe, and don't question the doctor slipping on rubber gloves to examine, say, your rectum. True?" Jack asked, and they nodded.

"Well, we're looking for non-physical problems with physical manifestations," Carla said. "Thus, you'll need to concern yourselves less with the physical aspects, to put aside jealousies, and accept what happens as merely different forms of physical examinations and tests-to keep in mind our goal of curing those problems."

"That's one reason for being here, instead of at your home," Jack added. "It removes you from your usual environment, and keeps us separate from your day to day lives."

"So, Ben, if you'd like to accompany me to my office?" Carla said, and Ben and Erin looked at one another.

They nodded, and she reached over to squeeze his hand. He stood, and her breathing tightened as he left her range of vision. She heard the door open and close, her husband and Jack's sister leaving them alone together. She became aware of soft, very soothing music playing from a stereo recorder, the volume just audible. She raised her glass, but found it empty.

"Here you go," Jack smiled, and she blinked as he leaned forward from her side to refill her glass. "I think we can leave some of the more trivial information for later," he said, moving back to replace the wine bottle in its cabinet as she took a drink, his eyes on one of the forms. "Ben said that you were taught that there's only one way to make love?" he asked, gradually dimming the office's indirect lighting.

"Y-yes," she nodded, not looking toward him. "My mom was very forceful about that."

"Um," he nodded. "Say, why don't you sit over here on the couch, and then you can relax a bit more," he suggested, and she slowly stood to move to the large couch, the seat extending far enough for her to sit with her legs stretched out before her, the back plushly comfortable.

"Was Ben your first lover?" he asked, sitting on the couch arm at the other end.

"Yes," she said, and took another drink of her wine.

"I take it that you've no problem with climaxing."

"No," she answered, drawing her calves up, her free hand smoothing her skirt.

"Any limit as to the number of your climaxes?" he asked, standing.

"Um, no, I don't think so," she replied, glancing toward him, his back toward her.

"And did you ever climax with anyone else-you know, like when petting?"

"A-a few times."

"During masturbation?"

"I-was taught that was wrong too."

"So, you haven't ever climaxed while masturbating?"

"Maybe once or twice, but… its like with the-the things Ben'd like to do. I get so uptight that…"

"How about girlfriends?"

"Girlfriends?" she asked, confused.

"You know, during early puberty, for instance. Sometimes, it can be easier to deal with one's passions when alone with someone you're already close to," he said, moving along in front of the couch, his manner relaxed and friendly.

"Oh," she nodded. "Yes, once," she said, letting it go at that.

"You were talking about the things Ben wants to do," he said, sitting down on the couch beside her curled legs, his back angled toward her knees. "What things would you like to do if you could let yourself?"

"Me?" she asked, the question taking her off guard, her nervousness over his sitting down near her forgotten. "I guess I never thought of it that way," she admitted, never having considered what she herself might desire.

"Would you like your clit kissed, to feel a tongue moving in your cunny as you lie back and simply enjoy the sensations?" he asked, his voice lower, and she blushed, looking down.

"I-I guess," she answered in a whisper, her heart pounding.

"You've never thought about it?" he asked, turning toward her, one leg atop the couch.

"Yes," she nodded, feeling hot, and wondering if it was as a result of his questions, or the wine.

"All right, I want you to just lean back, stretch out, and relax with your eyes closed," he said gently, slipping the now empty glass from her hand, and setting it on the floor.

Uncertain, she did so, glancing at his strong, reassuring face before closing her eyes.

"I'm going to lower the back of the couch," he said, pushing a button at the base, and she heard a humming sound as she was eased back to a thirty-degree angle. "Hear the music? Listen to the rhythms, to each instrument," he said in a hypnotic whisper. "Hear how the beat of your heart seems a part of the music," he suggested, his fingers nimbly catching the hem of her skirt out from either side of her legs, as he slowly raised the cloth from her thighs, then moved the skirt upward from her long, shapely thighs. '`No one will know what happens in this room, only you," he said, laying the skirt up over her stomach, and baring her full hips, a pair of bikini panties covering her plump mound. "You do want, at least, to know what it feels like to have your clit kissed, to have a tongue move within your nook, don't you?" he asked, his voice a rhythmic sound that crept through her brain.

"Yes," she said in the smallest of whispers, the dim lighting, the comfort of the couch, the warmth of her body, and the sounds of his voice and the music making her forget where she was.

"To feel yourself unbound," he continued, his hands curving to her hips, and almost imperceptibly closing to touch against her flesh, and her panties. "Easy, easy," he soothed as her breath caught, and he began to slide the panties down, rolling them beneath his hands. "Feel the binding being loosened, being removed, feel the soft curlings of your muff loosening, no longer pressed down," he whispered, turning toward her from the waist as he moved the garment past her knees and he reached back with his other hand to remove them. "Doesn't that feel better, more relaxing? Can't you almost feel the way your mound curves smoothly down from your abdomen, the way it rises higher than the tops of your thighs, standing proud and ready. Wouldn't it feel wonderful to have it kissed caressingly?" he continued, lowering his face toward the bright triangle. "To have someone's lips touch the lips of your sex, someone's tongue glide inward, someone's mouth kiss the pulsing of your clit?" he suggested, his breath stirring the curlings of her muff, and he touched his lips to her furrow.

Her lips parted, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes almost opening as she felt the damp heat of her snatch kissed, the lips flexing against her slit. She groaned softly, feeling the compulsion rise within her to reach down and push the head away, to stop the lips from drifting up and down her burning lips. Then she remembered the music, and concentrated on the rhythms, finding that this time it was the throbbing of her clit that seemed a part of it, rather than the deep beat of her heart.

The strong, yet gentle hands cupped her hips again, and the lips parted, the tip of his tongue extending to glide up and down the wet groove of her box. Her body trembled, her blood racing with pleasure, and her clit pulsed faster, Erin knowing the tongue would open her to find it.