The therapy

The therapy

The therapy

A good therapy after divorce is to return to your former activities that you used to do before meeting “him” or “her”. Also, you can even think to initiate new ones that you know you could never have done if you were stuck with your “ex”.

You have the chance to start attending unknown places, which in turn will open your way to adventures or new acquaintances that you would not have experimented in other circumstances.

This is what the coordinator of the therapy I participate for several weeks told me.

I began to see things differently after these sessions. I was more optimistic and realized that I could start a new life all by myself, and memories, resentments, hatred, fear and uncertainty until then, have done nothing but hinder me in living my present.

Besides learning some ​​introspective behaviors, there was something else fascinating in the healing meetings I attended to and that actually made me feel better. The brunette. The elegant and distinguished lady that I fell in love with instantly. I know it sounds pathetic, but that's how it was...

She always sat next to me at the classes conducted by the psychologist. I could feel her fragrance that accompanied her like a mysterious, invisible aphrodisiac cloak, and each time I wondered how it would have been to invite her to have a coffee together. Unfortunately, I remained only at the stage of self-interrogation.

Cheerful and full of life as if someone had injected the sunrise into her veins, she was extremely feminine, keeping around her, though, a discreet and mysterious sexy air, of newly divorced lady.

It seemed totally rude to me to start introducing myself this way... out of nowhere, just to get a better look at her face or to smell, avidly, her soft perfume. It also seemed obsolete to ask for her phone number in such a totally inappropriate situation, of divorced people who learned the ABC of resignation and the return to a new... normal life.

I had no courage. Or maybe I felt not sufficiently prepared to go out with another woman, other than my ex-wife.

Either way it would had been, finally, the hours of therapy were over and, relatively healed, I tried to live my future on.

I cannot say that I did not feel the bitterness of a slight inner failure, because I have not seen her since. And I was sorry. At least I should have tried.

Eventually, however, the path of my existence reached a relatively normal path. I became a balanced bachelor and even optimistic in some ways.

The only activities outside working hours (in which I simply took refuge) were two or three beers with friends and sometimes sex with some girl, paid to help me release my hormones.

One of them, who visited me more frequently, told me at one point that she had left the agency that placed her to various clients and she had started working in a nightclub, with sexual services in rooms specially designed for that purpose. She explained that there are many beautiful young ladies out there, the atmosphere is relaxing and if I wanted to come, it could be a great new experience. At least I would change the “view”.

She wrote me the address on a note and told me I was welcome anytime.

Honestly, I was more comfortable looking for escorts on the Internet and call them to my place, than to go who knows where. I do not think I would have felt comfortable among several men who were probably staring at dancers as if they had never seen a naked woman before. Nor would I have liked the too loud music...

However, driven more by curiosity or boredom, in one of my very “busy” evenings, I decided to drink something in that place.

Once there, I was deeply impressed, because things were far from what I had imagined. The place was really special. In a positive sense. The interior was decorated with taste and refinement, inspiring a pleasant, comforting... intimate feeling.

I found a secluded spot at the bar and ordered a dry whiskey. Indeed, the atmosphere was special. On the stage there was placed a pole, where a few ladies showed their talents more or less acrobatic.

Around me, there were some wonderful girls, barely dressed, asking me from time to time, in a very stimulating way, if I wanted some company. The girl I knew was not there that night, so a few moments later I decided to go home. My biological clock indicated that it was late. Sex... maybe next time!

Wanting to reach out, suddenly my nostrils were invaded by a sublime scent, more than known. I immediately returned and, as I had intuited with enthusiasm, I saw the brunette lady from the classes. But now she looked differently. She wore a terribly short black lace dress, a somewhat more strident makeup and had an excessively sensual attitude, seeming preoccupied to emanate a certain type of outright sexuality.

She was in striking contrast to what I remembered, but I could not say I disliked it. Anyway, I think she would have looked fine in any stance.

She had just come in and was laughing loudly with two other younger women. In her rushed walk, her hair was moving so provocatively... Or at least so it seemed to me.

Without thinking before acting, I caught her wrist tightly and I almost shouted: “Hi!”

A little scared, she turned to me and looked at me, measuring me from head to toe.

She did not expect to meet me. I did not expect her to remember who I was.

I approached her hastily, chilled by the thought not to lose the opportunity to speak to her, and I whispered her that I'd like to talk to her a little bit. I was choked with emotion and panicked not to shock her with the way I approached her.

She took a deep breath (at which point her breasts rounded absolutely fantastic) and explained that she was in a somewhat delicate situation because, at that moment, the only chance to talk was just “upstairs”, provided, however, that nothing that she would not want to, happened to her.

Without thinking too much or asking myself dozens of intricate questions, as I would have usually done, I immediately agreed and paid at the bar the equivalent of 3 hours of sex.

I was not interested in anything other than the fact that I could stay with her, I will have the opportunity to freely tell her what I had to say and maybe I could invite her elsewhere someday, another evening, if she would be free or if she felt like...

Climbing the stairs, she did not look at me and did not say a word to me.

Arrived in a quite small but elegant room, probably just hers, she sat down on a very soft sofa that was located at the opposite side of the room. After having found a decent posture, visibly embarrassed, she tried to apologize for the situation she was in. But that night, the words seemed to be against her and the phrases vanished away, in the air, like the smoke of a cigarette...

She explained to me, ashamed (but reconciled with herself), that after the divorce she just went through, she had been left with a lot of debts to the banks and the only solution she had found to deal with them quickly, was to work as an escort.

I had no idea how or what... to respond her. I approached her and the only thing that came to my mind was linked to the fact that I wanted to apologize for my childlike shyness that I had proven before.

I took the courage and I told her in one gulp how I fell in love with her since she was sitting next to me in those therapy sessions.

She wanted to look amazed, but she was not. She knew I was watching her gestures, her lips and the naturalness she manifested downright magically.

When I finished confessing all this, she stood up gently, took a few steps toward me, as I was still a few steps away from the door that fortunately had closed by itself, and kissed me long on the lips. She had clenched her right hand into my hair and with the other one she hugged me tight, almost crushing me desperately on her body. I do not know why, but even so, more vulgar than I could have imagined meeting her, her behavior was unexpectedly sincere and tender.

That relaxed me.

Taking her into my arms in my turn, I feverishly walked my hands all over her body and my fingers suddenly found themselves with the pleasant feeling of silky smoothness belonging to her tiny panties.

I wished they had not existed, in order to get faster between her legs, but I was afraid not to cause her a reaction of rejection or even receive some slap as a “reward” for daring to caress her so intimately. I did not want to cut that dream state that I would not have expected even in my wildest fantasies.

But it was not like that. On the contrary. Judging by the breathing and the almost wild movements, I realized that, in spite of my fear, all this caused her an incredible pleasure.

I emerged from her clenched kiss and I knelt down. I pulled her panties down, a little bit, just enough to catch sight of her pinky magnificence that already troubled all my senses. I approached it with my lips and kissed her greedily as if I had kissed a slightly smaller mouth. The more I touched her with my lips and licked her greedily, the more I wanted to go as quickly as possible inside her. And not only with my tongue...

She caught my armpits and lifted me up gently. With a suggestive and sympathetic sign of the lips, she hinted me to stay “quiet” and wait. She started to undress me with a remarkable skill. I could hear only the embarrassing rustling of the clothes and our intense breaths, bursting through our open lips, like trembling promises...

Within seconds I was completely naked.

She pushed me on the bed and climbed up with her knees between my legs, leaned over my penis which, after some suave moves of her fingers over its entire surface, she simply swallowed it greedily.

Her lips were soft, her tongue was smooth, and inside her mouth there was a downright tropical atmosphere. Warm and humid...

I would never have thought that I would meet again, in such a way, the woman who at that moment caressed my most intimate organ... She stimulated me with both her hands, then with her tongue up and down over it, while her gorgeous eyes looked my eyes insistently to ensure that I felt what she wanted to convey to me.

She grabbed my testicles and rubbed them in her hand, playing with them as if they were two fragile and gentle balls.

The moment I felt like I was to come, I wanted to lift her head to keep her away from the hot jet, but that was exactly what she wanted. The feeling of release was magnified by her overwhelming desire to swallow everything to the last drop.

I had no idea when those 3 hours had passed. I wanted more and more. I was hypnotized by her presence.

When she accompanied me to the club's exit, she gently slipped a note into my hand. It was her phone number.

Currently, I am at the second marriage. I can honestly say that I am extremely happy, and my present wife, the brunette (formerly divorced), is one of the most beautiful and “warm”... escorts. I recommend her with all my heart!

Paul (U.S.A.)