A shrink, Sex and Dad

The room I was sitting in was bland but nice, like all waiting rooms look like I suppose.
Magazines from several weeks ago lay haphazard on the table and the hum of the ac unit was my only entertainment.
Not that I was looking for any, no, I was here because I needed therapy.
The wait was just another aggravation.
Personally I didn’t think I needed any therapy or grief counseling but my dad thought otherwise.
So he dumped me here half an hour ago and told me he would pick me up later, after the good doctor has made me feel all better.
I would be so mad at him if I didn’t love him so much.
He may have loved my mom but I sure as hell didn’t share that feeling, not in the end.
Somehow she always had her bipolar episodes when he was away, leaving me to deal with it.
On an intellectual level I knew she was sick but emotionally I just couldn’t bond with her anymore.
Not these last few years with the medication and the outbursts and meltdowns.
So I had turned into myself, hid my emotions from the world and adopted the Goth look.
Little miss sunshine, so not me.
My dad had seemed to have accepted my change, a few months after my mom had died but my latest tat and piercing had changed that.
So now I am here, still waiting for the shrink.

The door to the shrink’s office opened and a man walked through it, introducing himself as ‘Doctor Bradford but you can call me Steve’.
The blatant attempt at familiarity and equality makes me fake a demure smile as I shake his hand.
At least he gives a good handshake and not a weak one.
It makes me think a little better of him, that and he looks like a slightly older version of my dad.
That makes me a daddy’s girl I suppose but when you have a dad as good looking as mine it’s only natural.
He closes the door behind us and leads me to the chair I’m supposed to sit in while he takes the one facing mine.
The chair is comfortable, I must admit and I relax a bit, easing the tension between my shoulders.
“Your name is Cleo?” he asks in his all business voice, sounding so reasonable.
I mumble an affirmative response, not going to make it easy on him.
He starts to ask a lot of questions and follows up on them when he senses that I am holding back.
Somehow he manages to make me speak up and talk about my feelings.
Despite my misgivings I feel myself trusting him and answer his questions honestly.
His questions take a new direction when we start to talk about my tats and piercings.
Again I learn more about myself through his prodding and poking at my emotions.
Near the end I realize the truth, I was angry at my mom not because of her disease but because of the attention she got from my dad.
I had wanted that attention.
My mind raced as I thought it all through while answering his questions as to steer away from him coming to the same conclusion.
I must have done a good enough job because he tells me that I have anger issues left from my mom dying and that I should be open about it with my dad.
Inside my mind I smile as I hear his conclusion and pretend to agree with him, even giving him a hug when we are done to thank him.

My dad is waiting for me when I leave the office; he smiles at me and enters the office to talk to Steve.
A few minutes later he comes out, looking relieved and more relaxed.
We speak little as we make our way home and only once we are inside do I hug him fiercely.
Surprised but happy he hugs me back and I take his scent into me.
He smells so good that I feel myself melt in his arms.
Wishing it would last just a few moments longer, I know that he gets uncomfortable after a while.
A moment later he breaks the hug and kisses me on my forehead, telling me to do my homework and wash up before dinner.
I smile warmly at him although I don’t need to be told to do my homework or wash up, at sixteen I damn well know what to do.
Still I go to my room without sputtering and jump on my bed to stare at my emo Hello Kitty poster.
My mind keeps coming back to my realization, I do not just love my dad, I am in love with him.
The thought makes me smile and feel all giddy inside.
It doesn’t take long for me to start to play with myself, imagining his hands over my body.
My nipples get hard as I imagine him sucking them and I almost cry out as my hand teases my clit through the fabric of my skirt and panties.
The warmth that spreads through my body engulfs me, makes me writhe on the bed in desperate need of his touch.
My hand finds the perfect rhythm and soon my legs tense up as I feel the heated flood of an orgasm approach.
Silently I arch my back, my mouth wide open as I come.
The release is more intense than I imagined, I feel all my tension wash away in the waves of pleasure that course through my body.
When they subside, I turn to my side breathing fast and deep.
God this was a good one.
Basking in the afterglow I start to hatch my plan to get him to do it for real, preferably tonight.

Dinner is pleasant and the conversation is of course about my visit to the shrink.
I make sure that my dad understands that my anger issues come from a lack of communication with my mom and that I have a lot of questions.
Just as I hoped he tells me that I could ask and talk about anything with him, no subject was taboo.
Our evening was proceeding as it usually went but I am going to make sure that it doesn’t end that way.
My dad had changed from his suit to more leisure clothing as he always did before making dinner and tonight was no different.
He looks great in his sweatpants and T shirt and I have to work at it not to stare all the time.
Taking the seat next to him on the couch, we sip our coffee and watch the news in silence.
When the sports news comes on, he asks for his beer as usual.
This time however he’s going to get a beer with a little crushed blue pill added to it.