Editor's note: I like to give you a little side story when I can. I chuckled when I came up with the intro to this story. I hit a rough patch in my life a few years ago and decided to talk to a therapist about it. Therapy is a great thing, if you find a good one. After revealing other "trouble" spots in my life she looked at me and said, "You're only 26 and you've lived enough for a 60 year old!" This story is for those who need a little "therapy"!

---

"Really?

"Yes, that really happened."

"You must be a wise old soul because you've lived more than most people your age or even mine," she said as only an average therapist could.

It was time to end the session her client thought. Time for some real therapy. Not this half baked $30 and hour pacifier she was using to help her get through something she just realized she needed to "fish or cut bait" - over. In her mind it was time to move to a completely new ocean to get over that little issue.

"Thanks, I don't think I'll need another session. I'm feeling good and I have a good group around me and it's not worth your time to examine this longer. Thanks for the help," she said cheerily trying to cover her real thought, "Jeez, I could have done better than that!"

It got her out of any more appointments. Except for one ...

It was 30 minutes home and that was too long to wait to hear his voice. Ok, it wasn't his voice she wanted. It was his "therapy" she wanted. He encouraged her to talk to someone, but would have agreed this lady was not worth her time or money. His therapy was better.

"Ya, just wanted to talk to you, (Ya, how was Miss Priss?), Good, but I need you when I get home. ( K!, I'll be here,) Watch out I'm fully loaded tonight! ( silence, I better prepare myself! ) Yes, you better mister! ( See you soon. ) K, love you, ( Love you too. )"

His therapy was a swing on the front porch in the rain when she felt scared, wrapped in her blanket drinking the coffee he got for her only minutes before - small cup, mocha, low fat with a hint of mint and lots of whip cream or one of those cold "sissy drinks" he called them. Mmmm, ya a little whip cream sounded good about now!

She snickered at the thought of the tub of Cool Whip in the fridge from last night's cobbler. Comfort food and comfort man! She liked them in that order. His slight drawl, eroded from years of migrant oil-family transfers in and out of his home town and that brief stint in radio, almost did in his sweet, "Ya'll," but wasn’t strong enough for them to take the man out of the drawl.

He was sweet and uncomplicated. What he said was what he meant, even if it was only 3 words. She had learned his grandfather was like that and often ended his sentences with ,"Oh Clara ..." when his grandmother, a hot Irish woman had expressed her temper a little too much in reference to the preacher's message, the neighbor's nosiness or the government shenanigans in general.

Hers accent stronger, but more controlled than the average tornado-trailer-house-victim. And so were her urges. She couldn't wait to get home... UGGGHHHHHHH! It was almost more than she could control. Normally, she was a good girl and didn't even think about "tear it up sex", but tonight it was like fire, no, nuclear reactions, NO! PLASMA HOT MAGMA, and she thought about how Dr. Evil might have said it!

It was an itch, a burn, a yearn.

One word.

Horny

He was so sweet too. Foot rubs after her failed attempt at retail early in her career, back rubs after tense days at the office, neck kisses in the kitchen and a good morning, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, " to wake her when her night had been rough.

Rough.

"Ya, I need it rough," she thought. "Hard fast and furious." She gritted her teeth and thought, "Fuck Me!"

It was that kind of itch that you get when your gums itch. NOTHING, would satisfy it unless you really tried. She was a small town debutant, but who wasn't? The dress, the ball, the pomp, it wasn't her, but she contrasted it to how she felt right now. Because how she felt right now was like the cracked-up-22 year old boob job on the cheap $6.99 porn DVD they kept for "naughty time". She felt like her and wanted to be her. "She could see herself looking him in the eye saying all that cheesy stuff, but only long enough for her to kind of chuckle and then consider maybe really saying it to him.

Her hand was between her legs. Ya, she couldn't wait, but wanted to.

55, 60 65, 70 MPH down the freeway stoking the "fire" or maybe she should say "magma".

She was like this now and then. What woman wasn't? It was that whole, "good girl in public, hooker in private" image every guy wanted, but no girl admitted to. She had even been asked by her friends if that was what he liked at home. "NO! Absolutely not! And I'm not like that!" she lied through her teeth. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. But sometimes the scratches on his back needed their own attention after their "wild-f-m-cowboy-rodeos".

And after those she didn't mind being "rode hard and put up wet". It sounded so crude, but she wanted it harder and faster than she did 10 minutes ago. Her clothes were getting in her way now.

"Roger that, she's gone 'commando'," she heard her inner dialog say in that broken monotone-radio-soldier-voice. And he better be, "loading his weapon," because she was coming full frontal, with the safety off!

Victoria's secret was by her left foot and the brake.

Her hand wasn't doing enough for her while she drove, so she grabbed the flashlight from the glove box and placed it under and between her legs. The small ribs on the silver Eveready made just enough friction to keep her attention, but not her satisfaction.

The tires squealed down her street and she saw the porch light on her house on. "That fucking door better be unlocked or I'm going to break it down to get to him!" Did she really just say that! Oh no, she didn't! Did she?

She opened her car door and closed it.

Inside, he leaned to the left from his chair and noticed she didn't bother with the garage. Her pace was mad and frantic, "Oh Lord, what happened tonight?" He thought in near panic terms about everything, EVERYTHING, he had said from the last time she was upset. It was easy, he hadn't said that much. Man! But then he saw her and knew it wasn't him.

The door flung open.

(silence)

She gritted her teeth and like the neighborhood stray bitch she said in a mutt-like growl, "fuck me ..."

Then a little louder three more times until she was almost screaming, "FUCK ME!!!"

"God that's hot!" he thought and sprang to life. "That's what's going on!"

He lunged at her and she leapt to him like a scene from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but more like pouncing horny girl, unsuspecting prey.

The buttons on his shirt flew across the room so hard a vase actually wobbled a little from a combination of the minor earthquake and the button. "Buttons are cheap," he thought.

He couldn't believe it, her teeth were still clenched. He threw her against the wall and her back was taught and her pussy was wet. His cock stiffened. This wouldn't be long, but it was going to be like an explosion.

She dug her nails into his back as he kissed her neck and ripped her bra in half to get to her nipples. He nibbled and then bit just enough to peak her interest.

She pushed back against him and pinned him on the couch.

He had heard what adrenaline could do, but this was amazing. "She's going back next week as well!" he thought.

She had pinned him like one of those corny WWF matches on the couch. Then she started talking to him.

"I'm going to fuck you. I need it and I need it NOW!" she shouted. "Fuck Me!" and then she straddled him and started in on him like and animal. It was the scene Animal Planet doesn't show.

She would grind her clit and he was still pinned against the couch. Arms above his head in that shape like, "I surrender," Ironically, Guns and Roses came on and she heard, "Welcome to the Jungle."

She went faster than she thought she could have and he had to sit there and take it. She moved back and forth so fast she thought that if she wasn't that wet his skin would have been blistered from at least the heat!

She plunged inside of him and he felt her like he hadn't before, very swollen and very hot, not warm, HOT!

She bounced and slapped his chest and looked into his face with that wolf like snarl and said, "FUCK ME!!"

It was too scary to respond so he thrust as much as he could and she moaned, "OOOH!"

The couch had moved 3 feet before he though he felt her 4th orgasm. He was so close. His blood pressure rose and she felt him and noticed he was getting close but trying to hold it off.

"YAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" he screamed and she KEPT GOING!

"One more," she thought, "He has it in him." And she went faster. His groin was wet and saturated with her. He felt it drip between his legs. The smell was sweet and sexual. It was almost painful that she kept going, but how many times had she kept going after he had some cold medicine and it took him a few minutes more.

"Yaaaaa .... baby ..... yaaaaaa .... mmmmmm......," she muttered from her clenched teeth. "Cum for mommy .... ya ..."

He realized she was talking to her pussy.

"Mmmmmmm .... MMMMMM ..... OOOOOO ...... AAAAAAA ....."

and one last

"FUCK!!"

The room spun just a little and he caught her.

His wrists were sore. His back had surely bled on the couch.

He rolled over just enough to see. "Whew, nothing!" he thought.

He pulled out of her and was just a little uncomfortable, but that was almost unearthly. She never stirred or moved. She had a pulse and was breathing, just exhausted.

"She got what she needed and I was happy to give it to her," he thought. “Now when is she going to wake up?” He straightened the chairs and even moved the couch back where it belonged; all without waking her. His button less shirt covered her soft, lightly tanned skin. He understood what she meant when she said it smelled like “Sex”.

Her breathing was normal and he worked to recreate the minutes and moments prior.

He turned on SportsCenter and watched the nightly recaps from the east coast games. "He'll need therapy to get over that beating in Montreal!"

A slow chuckle came from his mouth and her eyes opened enough to see what was going on.

Her first words were, "Ohh shi ....” "Another un-lady like phrase!” she thought.

"Don't worry about it, we all get that way once in a while. Ice cream?"

The spoon slipped out of her mouth.

"Mmmmmm, chocolate therapy," she thought.