I bet she thinks I’ll get jealous, or that I’ll worry it means something more than sex, but I won’t. I know Jen. If we’re together, then we’re together. She’s honest to a fault.
But maybe this is just me being selfish again. After all, she’d be doing it for my enjoyment, because it gets me off watching. If it makes her uncomfortable, I don’t want to force it on her.
I should just be grateful I get to be in the room helping her while she cums. I guess I got ahead of myself.
Telling myself to do better, I get up and walk into the kitchen. I move a little awkwardly with the heavy dildo still stitched to my lap. The thing is a fucking monster. I can hardly believe she got it all.
Back on Jen’s nightstand my cock quivers and almost falls off. I pause and press my eyes closed, but that only makes the imprint of that image which was seared onto my soul even easier to picture in my mind’s eye.
Fuck.
I just know nothing is going to come close unless by some miracle I persuade her to let me watch her fuck a real monster.
When I find my sweatpants, I also locate my phone and pull it out, wincing when I see an unread message. It’s not from myboss, though; it’s from Judy, the therapist, letting me know she has had a cancellation and could fit us in for a session tonight.
I sense Jen’s hesitation when I tell her, but she agrees, so I book it in and take over frying the haloumi and egg for her, sliding it onto a bun and dousing it in sauce the way she likes. I wish the look she gave me felt more like gratitude and less like suspicion, but I guess she’s not exactly used to me doing stuff around the house yet. The more I do, the more I see that needs doing and the more I realize how little I used to do when we lived together.
By the time the therapy session is about to begin, Jen’s been quiet for hours. I give her space, not wanting to make the situation worse, but the tense silence stretches on throughout the whole afternoon.
I regret not asking her to remove the monster dildo for me, but I didn’t want to make her even angrier, so I adjust my sweatpants—the only pants I can wear with it hanging from me like an elephant’s trunk—and find Jen’s laptop. “Are you ready?”
“Sure.” She comes over and takes the laptop from me. “I guess we just sit on the sofa, then.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Want me to email you the code?”
“Sure.”
I really hope this actually helps. Seems like I really put my foot in it today.
It’s a relief when Judy’s face pops up on screen a moment after we log in. “Jen, Adam! Hi. Thanks for joining me.”
We give her an awkward wave, and I’m just about to speak when she adds, “I thought we could begin the session with a little check in so you can both let me know how you’re feeling going in, and then we’ll begin with some goal setting. Does that sound OK?”
“Fine.” Jen crosses one leg over the other, pulling away from me on the sofa. I frown.
Judy continues without commenting, but it’s glaringly obvious to me that Jen’s not happy. “OK, well, I’ll start. I’m feeling excited to begin our work together and hopeful that I can make a difference to you both. Adam, how are you feeling?”
I glance aside at Jen only to catch her rolling her eyes. “Ah… OK, I guess. Jen?”
She shrugs. “Fine.”
There’s a pause. Judy looks thoughtful. “You know, Jen, I’m picking up on a little tension here. It’s perfectly OK if you’re feeling a little anxious about beginning therapy or about anything else that might have happened today.”
“I’m fine.”
I stare at her. “You’re not fine, though, are you? Because I upset you before. I didn’t mean to.”
Jen throws up her hands and turns to face me. “Alright then. OK? I’m not fine. I’m feeling confused because last night you wanted to be my boyfriend again and just when I think I’ve recovered from the whiplash of that after you broke up with me, now you want me to keep screwing other guys.”
“Well, yeah. All that’s true.”
I glance at the screen, but Judy is listening.
“Are you hearing this?” Jen says to her. “That’s not normal, right?”
There’s a pause. I’m getting the impression Judy likes to leave a gap before she speaks. Maybe that’s a deliberate strategy. “Maybe normal isn’t a helpful word here,” she says thoughtfully.“Adam, have you talked with Jen about why you’d like her to see other men?”
I flush. “Well, I… it’s pretty hot. The idea of her getting it from someone else.”
