Sex therapy

The lift doors opened with a quiet swoosh but prior to stepping out Freya checked her hair and make-up one last time in the mirror. It was an entirely unconscious action, looks were so important in her job that confirming her personal perfection was a habit even more ingrained in her than malboro lights.

The expertly cut, black silk skirt swung with the rythym of her hips and brushed the large, leather bag she carried but her high heels made no noise against the wool carpet as she strutted towards the room she'd become familiar with over the past few months. This was a regular engagement and, though she knew she was both on time and expected, still she knocked softly before pushing the door open.

She heard him before she saw him, he was talking on the phone and agitated by the call judging by his harsh tone and clipped, sharp words. Without greeting he placed a hand on the small of her back and somewhat clumsily shoved her toward the bathroom. His touch fell away as she stumbled under the sudden force and in reply to her look of bewilderment he merely held his index finger in the air toward her and mouthed 'two minutes' before returning to his pacing, not missing a beat in his third party conversation.

Closing the door behind her she immediately began removing her outer clothing, carefully folding the expensive top after slipping it from her chiseled shoulders and laying the silk skirt delicately over it on the chair. Once again she checked her reflection in the mirror, this time consciously checking off a head to toe list that went from her expertly cut and coloured hair to her long but somewhat thin feet, encased still in Jimmy Choo's very latest.

She had porcelain skin and wore just the right amount of make-up to accentuate her deep brown, almond shaped eyes; the lashes that framed them thick, lustrous and all her own. Cheekbones so sharply defined you could use them to set up perfectly straight lines of charlie on a sheepskin rug pointed like arrows to her mouth, her lips darkly pink and so very full you'd be forgiven for thinking of Angelina Jolie on first sight.

Her long, elegant neck had no need of adornment; the jutting collarbones alone framed the small breasts that sat high and proud within a subtly padded bra with the most exquisite lace outer layer and a short string of delicate black beads at the centre that led the eye down, down, over a stomach that told of a million weighted sit-ups and then further south toward the suspender belt and tiny thong - a black combination that matched the bra even whilst revealing it's own private beauty around the recently waxed boundaries that it didn't quite reach. Even further down, her thin, tightly muscled legs were sheathed in the sheerest of black stockings and seemed to go on forever before they met the ribboned shoe straps that spiralled her calves, continuing on to delicate ankles before disappearing into the sharply pointed toe of her footwear.

She heard him finish his call and throw his handset into a corner, knew that this was the moment to present herself to him. Freya opened the door and oh - so - slowly stepped just one, long, stocking-clad leg outside the frame in her most teasing fashion then paused to hear either the language or worldless sighs of acknowledgement and appreciation for her beauty that she'd grown to expect.

What she actually heard was a hard voice that told her "Behave! And move yer sticks over here". Here being the bed he was now lying across, fingers interlaced behind the head that carried a face showing boredom, maybe even a little contempt?

She, to her credit, didn't falter. Exiting the bathroom she sashayed over to the bed and stood proudly before him, confident to the extreme that he would like what he saw.

"You lost weight", he remarked

"Yeah, I - "

"You look like shit"

"But what abo..." He cut her utterance off, cruelly sharp;

"Shut up for fucks sake! I don't wanna listen to your boring crap! Get over here and put that gob to good use for a change"

At those words Freya immediately slipped off her £500 a foot shoes and, with her hands behind her back, dropped to her knees at the side of the extra king-sized bed, dipping her head to his semi-hard cock as demanded. Her position that of worship, most women at this point would go to town with all their knowledge of sexual power but not her, she simply kneeled and opened her mouth, waiting paitently for the next instruction.

She didn't have to wait long before his gruff, harsh voice fast was assailing her ears with an order to "make it want you, ugly cunt!" but even then, she held back the mix of tongue and hand on cock that she knew made other men weak and simply held her mouth open as a vessel for him to fuck as fast, slow, deep or shallow as he chose until her victory came in the form of his full, hard erection. She smiled in quiet victory when she felt him filling her mouth but he was, as always, one step ahead of her...

"On your hands and knees. Spread, bitch"

There was, as usual with this appointment, big money at stake so she did as she was ordered, not even flinching at the mini-bar temperature lube that hit her at the very top of the crack of her arse then followed gravity down to her perineum before dripping uselessly onto the expensive sheets below her. She could feel him positioning himself behind and between her painfully stretched thighs, sense him leaning back on his knees and holding his erection in place even before she felt it following the same route as the astroglide that had been there just seconds before... and then he was in her, hard, his balls ricocheting off her clit with the force of his entry. He had known she was ready for him without artificial aids and he took full advantage of it, hands gripping her hips enough to bruise while he threw himself into her.

"Fucksake, it's like screwing a little boy!"

Insulted, Freya quickly swung one long leg over his head and the other round his hip to re-position herself on her back without losing contact with his cock inside her, a move she was sure couldn't fail to impress. Again though, he beat her with his words...

"Don't you dare expect me to fuck you while I'm looking at them little girl tits!"

Her shock at his words was quickly overtaken by his actions as he pulled one of her hands across her small but pert breasts and pushed the other down between her legs before pushing himself hard into her pussy once again.

As soon as she touched herself she felt her orgasm building, for all her professionalism there was an uncontrollable physical sensation that felt like a red aura all around her. He was fucking her deep and hard with his cock, she was rolling her right nipple between her fingers as she hid her breasts from his gaze and her other hand had found a home furiously rubbing at her clit, it was simply too much for her to hold back from and yet she couldn't quite reach that point of letting go until...

"Come, bitch"

"wha..?"

"You wanna come all over my cock? Course you do, look at ya, you fucking love it! Go on then, ya skinny bitch... I'll just close my eyes and pretend I'm fucking a real woman while you take it all and beg for more"

Freya held her gasp deep in her lungs, so close to what her body wanted but her mind so confused at the same time, her beauty was her living after all, and a very good one so far...

"Well?"

"Please. Don't. Stop. Fucking. Meeeee!"

It had only taken the first word for him to know her deepest carnal wish. By the second word they had both come to the point of no return... the third and fourth words were barely heard amongst the heady rush of orgasmic delight that overcame them both...

He quickly disentangled himself from her embrace and entered the shower before she'd even come around properly from her euphoria. When she finally roused enough to realise she was late for her next appointment and jumped under the hot water she could hear him gathering the last of his belongings together even as she washed the scent of him from her most intimate places. A voice finds its way over the sound of running water...

"Your money's by the sink!"

"I know! I found it just now, I do love my regulars and their little routines!"

Freya laughed as the water poured over her body. The body that was paid a lot of money to model clothes, the tiny, starved body that was adored and worshipped by designers that had never once loved a real woman.

Simon laughed back at her as he picked up the £500 in cash, damp now from the steam of the shower, pulled back the curtain with one hand and slapped her tiny buttock with the other.

"Ouch!"

"Same time same place next month, ugly bitch?"

Freya smiled...

"Yes please babe, with legs this long I need someone to keep my feet on the ground, don't I...?"