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The Couch - Part Six |
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By Dirk Vincento 15
Beep! Beep! The angry sound of a car horn startled Brian. He was stuck in traffic and had been caught daydreaming when the car in front of him pulled ahead. He glanced irritably at the driver behind him in his rear view mirror, moved up about ten feet and stopped again. “There! Are you happy, asshole?” he grumbled under his breath. The car moved right up on his bumper again, urging him to pull ahead further when the simple fact was that he had nowhere to go. Having done all he could for the moment, he glared at the driver behind him one more time and then slipped back into his daydream. Brian had been thinking about his Aunt Elizabeth. Telling Dr. Hasslett about her had brought back a lot of memories and more seemed to be flooding back all the time. Thinking about it now, it was hard to believe that he had put the whole incident so far out of his mind for so many years. On the other hand, he was starting to understand from what Dr. Hasslett had told him that his subconscious choice to hide those memories away was actually an indication of how profound the experience had been, and of how deeply it had affected him. He was learning that your subconscious didn’t go to the trouble of hiding something from you if it didn’t believe it was very important. The car in front moved again and Brian pulled up before the driver behind him had a chance to give him another blast of his horn. He stopped once more and waited while the car crept up on his bumper again. He threw the driver another dirty look and then let his mind drift away again. So much pleasure. At the time it had been completely overwhelming. The touch of her hands, the soft kiss of her lips, the warm pressure of her breasts pressed against him . . . Even now, years later, the sensations that came along with the memories were incredibly intense. If he hadn’t already been an addict, after that night there was no doubt that he was lost, that he would never be able to let go of the pleasure he had felt as Aunt Elizabeth’s bosom rested against his chest. Looking back, he could see that it was true, he had spent his entire life desperately trying to recapture those feelings of erotic ecstasy. Something in Brian’s mind slipped into place and he found himself remembering the nagging feeling that had descended over him when he first arrived at Dr. Hasslett’s office. Only now the feeling had slipped out of the shadows and into the light where he could see it, where he could give it a name. He was afraid. Deathly afraid. Not of the problem, but of the cure. As he sat in his car, realizing that he would give anything to be back in Aunt Elizabeth’s arms again, he knew that what was bothering him was the fear that if Dr. Hasslett succeeded in helping him get over his obsession with big breasts, his ability to feel the pleasure they had always brought him might disappear as well. Donna’s breasts, Aunt Elizabeth’s and so many others since . . . so much pleasure. The idea of life without the arousal and desire they offered chilled him to the bone. How would he ever let go? Could he let go? Or did he even really want to? It was an unusual catch 22; desperately wanting to free himself from the painful situations his powerful obsession got him into, but unwilling, and possibly even unable, to let go of the pleasure that same obsession had bestowed upon him all his life. He felt like an alcoholic who was still hanging onto what he perceived as the benefits of his addiction, clinging to the belief that the pleasure was worth the pain, determined to swallow his poisoned pill one more time . . . whatever the cost. He was like an alcoholic who had yet to hit bottom and realize that there was nowhere left to go but up. But Brian knew that if his analogy fit, then there was little he could do until he did hit bottom and had what many reformed drinkers refer to as, “a moment of clarity.” The traffic finally began to move along, painfully slow but steady. The impatient driver behind him was still following uncomfortably close, but Brian didn’t notice him at all. He was far too busy thinking about where his addiction to large breasts was leading him, and that while living with Gretchen, hitting bottom could come at the end of a very long, hard fall. But those thoughts quickly gave way to Aunt Elizabeth . . . and the soothing memory of her incredible tits.
16
“Good night, guys.” “Good night, Gretchen. I’ll call you at work tomorrow.” “Talk to you then.” “Bye bye.” Brian swung the door shut and turned to Gretchen. “My God, I thought they’d never leave,” she snarled. “Gretchen, don’t talk like that. They’re our best friends.” “Well I don’t know if you noticed, but your friend Paul thinks he’s God’s gift to women. And if I’d had to listen to Gail tell us that she got a raise one more time, I think I would have thrown up!” Gretchen was drunk and Brian knew that arguing with her would only make things worse. It was better to simply ride out the wave and let her vent off whatever anger had built up inside her. But it never ceased to amaze him how Gretchen could spend an entire evening with their friends, acting as sweet as can be, and then turn on them the minute they walked out the door. Her act was so convincing that a fly on the wall would never have suspected a thing. Brian followed Gretchen into the living room where together they collected the empty chip bowl, the remaining dip and a handful of glasses; the remnants of an evening spent with friends. “I can’t believe how self-centered Gail is,” Gretchen continued spewing on her way to the kitchen. “All she can do is talk about herself. It’s as if she thinks everything that happens to her is more interesting that anything that happens to anyone else.” Brian had hoped that Gretchen’s tirade would be short lived, but as she piled the dishes in the sink and poured herself another glass of wine, he could see that she was just warming up. “And of course, everything she owns has to be simply the best.” Gretchen said these last words sarcastically, imitating Gail’s high-pitched, somewhat prissy voice. “I know she’s my friend,” Gretchen carried on as Brian followed her back into the living room, “but you have to admit that she’s a little hard to take sometimes “Well, I don’t think . . . ” Brian started. “I mean, does she really think that she’s the only person in the whole entire world who ever gets a raise? I mean, pull-ease.” Brian sat down on the couch and Gretchen plopped down beside him. “And you know why she goes on like that don’t you?” “No, wh . . . ” “It’s because she’s jealous of these.” Gretchen placed her wineglass on the coffee table and slid her hands down over the curves of her huge breasts to emphasize her point. “She looks at them, you know . . . when she thinks I won’t notice. She was doing it all night.” Gretchen hefted her tits in her palms, as if sampling their weight. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a goddamn lezzie.” Brian was still listening to what Gretchen was saying, but his eyes had followed her hands to her chest like a faithful puppy and most of his attention was now focused on them as they caressed the huge mounds of flesh that rose up from beneath her shirt. The thought flickered through his mind that if he had been worrying about Dr. Hasslett curing him of his obsession and robbing him of its pleasure, there was certainly no need to be concerned yet. The physical arousal he felt as he watched Gretchen touch her breasts was as reliable and predictable as one of Pavlov’s dogs salivating at the sound of a bell. The tingling he felt in his groin told him that his erection had already started to grow, the fluttering in his stomach made him feel nervous and weak and the erotic electricity that floated across his skin was irresistible. “I wonder if she noticed Paul trying to look at them all night?” Gretchen carried on endlessly. “He could hardly keep from drooling all over himself. It was pathetic!” Gretchen squeezed her tits, her fingers sinking deep into their soft flesh. “Men are such pigs! At least leg men and ass men have a little class, but tit men are just . . . pigs!” Brian watched as Gretchen’s hands pushed her breasts together, making the deep line of cleavage that was peeking out of the top of her shirt grow enticingly long. As he felt himself being drawn in helplessly by an overpowering erotic undertow, he tried to resist because he knew that the current could be leading him into a vicious whirlpool that would suck him under and drown him. Gretchen was drunk and that meant she would be even more unpredictable and volatile than usual. But trying to resist only seemed to make it harder to fight the urges that were building up inside him. Trying to resist only made him want her (them) more. “And you’re no better, are you?” Gretchen sneered. “You’re just another slobbering fool who can’t keep his eyes off my tits.” Gretchen’s hands moved to the top button of her shirt. Her fingers played with it teasingly. “Do you want to see them?” Her voice had suddenly become coy and playful. “Do you want a peek?” Brian wondered how he could possibly trust this woman, how he could even consider accepting her invitation to be vulnerable and exposed. She had hurt him so many times in the past, it just didn’t make sense to go out on a limb now. “Yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “Say please,” Gretchen teased, her tone now saccharine sweet. Brian couldn’t take his eyes off her fingers as they played with the button. “Please?” he uttered. Gretchen smiled wickedly. “Pretty please.” Brian felt weak, pathetic and helpless. He was like an alcoholic, worse than an alcoholic, and Gretchen was tempting him mercilessly with one more drink. And worst of all, she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew she was offering him something he couldn’t resist. In fact, he was quite sure that toying with him and making fun of his obsession was the reason she was doing it. His eyes shifted back and forth between her fingers on the button, the irresistible valley of cleavage that rose above them and the huge mountains of flesh that swelled out majestically from under her shirt below. He felt that familiar pounding of his heart in his chest. His erection was already hard and throbbing. “Pretty please,” he whispered. Gretchen’s smile broadened. She had been watching Brian closely, but now her eyes dropped down to her hands and together they watched her fingers as they ever so slowly undid the top button of her shirt. As the button let go, the opening at the top of her shirt spread wider without any help from her hands, the sheer size of her breasts pulling the material apart. The line of exposed cleavage was now even longer . . . more enticing and more irresistible. Gretchen thrust her chest forward, making her bosom swell and her shirt open up even wider. The next button down was now straining as it tried desperately to hold her tits in. “Do you want more?” Gretchen teased. The tingling sensations of arousal and excitement that were flooding through Brian’s body had completely overwhelmed his mind. He could no longer think or even begin to worry about the dangers that might lie ahead if he followed this course. The vision of mammary splendor before his eyes was far too powerful to resist. “Yes . . . please,” he begged. “Go ahead,” Gretchen invited, leaning forward and offering her chest to be unveiled. Brian’s hands were trembling as they moved toward Gretchen’s bosom, toward the two mounds of flesh that had already set his blood on fire. The soft flesh that was exposed had already made his head swim and the anticipation of what lay beneath her shirt, still waiting to be revealed, was truly intoxicating. He took the button in his fingertips and carefully slipped it through the hole. At the same instant, Gretchen thrust her chest forward again and her breasts instantly burst forth, looking ready to spill out of their lacy bra, defying any attempt at restraint. Brian let out a gasp. In the three years he’d been with Gretchen, he couldn’t remember her ever presenting her breasts to him in such an erotic, seductive manner. She had used them to manipulate him since the day they met, but somehow this was different. Tonight, Gretchen seemed more interested in the pleasure of the experience than simply the result. “Take a good long look . . . you pig!” Gretchen’s voice had started soft and seductive, but she spit the last two words out like venom. Brian’s head snapped up and he looked at Gretchen, shocked by the abrupt change of her tone. Gretchen placed her palm on Brian’s face and gently caressed his cheek. “It’s alright, baby,” she said, her voice once again soft and sexy. “I still love you, even if you are a pig.” With lightening speed, Gretchen drew her hand back and slapped Brian hard across the face. “Hey,” Brian shrieked with equal amounts of pain and surprise. But Gretchen was already off the couch, laughing wickedly as she crossed the room and turned on the stereo. Brian sat teetering on the edge. He could feel his rage pounding at the door, trying to get out. If he got mad, the moment would be lost, but if he could just manage to suppress his anger, there still might be a chance . . . He couldn’t believe he was really willing to take this abuse – and there was no other name for it – just for the chance to look at Gretchen’s tits, just because he wasn’t willing to give up hope that he might be able to touch them, feel them, kiss them, gaze at them lovingly while he fucked her. He couldn’t believe his obsession was strong enough to make him accept this humiliation but it was. The room filled with the sound of sultry blues. Gretchen turned and faced Brian, the smug smile on her face setting off another surge of anger that he had to fight to suppress. She started across the room, approaching him slowly, moving her body to the sensuous rhythm of the music. Her hips swayed suggestively, their motion making them appear hungry enough to swallow a man whole. Brian’s eyes followed her hands as they moved up the inside of her thighs to her crotch, then over her stomach, where they began to unfasten the remaining few buttons of her shirt. In a moment, her flat stomach was fully exposed. But Brian’s eyes had already drifted up to her breasts, which were swaying gently as she continued to move to the sensuous rhythm of the music. “Are you still looking at these?” Gretchen asked with mock surprise, noticing where Brian’s attention was focused. She smoothed her hands across the lacy material of her bra, rounding the curves of her breasts with a gesture that made the underside of Brian’s cock tingle delightfully. “Maybe we should take this into the bedroom . . . where you can get a better look.” Brian couldn’t believe this was happening. It was only a week ago that Gretchen had attacked him on the couch, so he really hadn’t expected anything like this for another couple of months. And on top of that, there really was something different about the way Gretchen was approaching him tonight. He didn’t know if it was because she was drunk or if it was a sign that the tide was actually changing. It was so tempting to jump to that conclusion because he wanted to believe it so badly. He had all but given up hope that things would ever improve between him and Gretchen, but suddenly there seemed to be light at the end of the tunnel. He was afraid to want her because the risk of disappointment was so great . . . but she was making him feel so good. Her breasts were making him feel so incredibly good. He had to know! Gretchen started for the bedroom, never doubting for a second that Brian would follow. She continued dancing suggestively as she left the room, knowing that his eyes would be on her and that his passion and desire would grow with each inviting shift of her hips. She knew her power over him was complete and just as she had expected, the minute she disappeared through the doorway, Brian leapt off the couch and came after her in hot pursuit. When he entered the bedroom, Gretchen was sitting on the edge of the bed, her shirt hanging open and her bra encased breasts jutting out proudly from her body. She raised her hand and beckoned him with her finger and he obeyed, crossing the room and stopping directly in front of her. Gretchen placed her hand on Brian’s crotch and began to rub his erection through his pants. “It’s so big,” she purred. Brian groaned as the pleasure from the pressure of her hand engulfed him. His eyes moved from his crotch to Gretchen’s bosom and she immediately felt his cock stiffen and grow longer. “You really are a tit man, aren’t you?” Gretchen teased provocatively. With quick confident motions, she unzipped Brian’s pants, reached in and pulled out his hard, throbbing erection. The touch of her fingers on his sensitive skin made a drop of clear fluid appear on its tip. Gretchen ran her hand along the length of his shaft, squeezing it until the drop grew larger, spilled over and ran down the side of his cock. “You’re making a mess,” she said slyly. “We’ll have to clean you up.” With those words, Gretchen’s mouth descended on Brian’s cock. The hot, wetness of her lips and tongue made his legs weak and his knees buckle. Feeling him teeter unevenly, Gretchen clutched his ass with her hands and held him in place. She began moving in long strokes, driving him deeper and deeper until he felt himself hitting the back of her throat. He tried to hang on, not wanting to come too soon, but the pleasure from Gretchen’s mouth, combined with the feel of her fingers digging harder and harder into the cheeks of his ass, was pushing him dangerously close to the edge of an orgasm. Gretchen’s head moved up and down faster. Brian could feel the pressure building in his balls and then moving into the base of his shaft. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere, driving his cock into a frenzy. He could feel the explosion coming closer. Her head moved faster . . . closer . . .faster . . . closer. Gretchen fell back on the bed, and not a moment too soon. She lay on her back with her arms raised over her head and her head turned to one side. The posture of her body was screaming to Brian, “Take me!” So he did. They fell into each other’s arms and kissed passionately. Brian could feel Gretchen’s hands on his body, touching him everywhere. Somehow they managed to shed their clothes without stopping for a second. Arms and legs flew in every direction as they kissed and groped and disrobed all at once. The last thing to be removed was Gretchen’s bra. She sat up and reached behind her back to undo the strap while Brian waited with bated breath. He was breathing hard, both from exertion and anticipation. The bra came loose and the straps fell from her shoulders. For a moment the lacy cups clung to her breasts as if held in place by invisible hands. Brian watched and waited, all sense of time having been lost in the urgency of his erotic frenzy. The sight of Gretchen’s bra dangling precariously from the peaks of her breasts was reaching right into the heart of his obsession, drowning him in waves of pleasure that threatened to wash him away completely. And then Gretchen’s bra fell to the bed and her breasts were set free. “Oh my God,” Brian gasped. Another surge of pressure forced its way up Brian’s shaft, the sight of Gretchen’s naked bosom now bringing him as close to an orgasm as her mouth had a few moments ago. He sat on the bed frozen, totally mesmerized by Gretchen’s tits. The pressure in his cock was continuing to build and he might have actually come right then and there, but once again Gretchen saved him by falling back on the bed and stretching out passively. Brian watched the fluid motion of her breasts as she moved and then pounced on top of her. Once again they were kissing, touching, feeling . . . making love. In the midst of their passion, fragmented thoughts floated in and out of Brian’s mind. Most of all, he couldn’t believe this was happening after all this time, after so many nights filled with frustration and disappointment. He felt a wave of smugness as he basked in the knowledge that he had been right to wait because things would eventually get better. Tonight could be the beginning of something different between them. It had to be. He wanted it so badly. He needed it desperately. Brian’s mouth was on Gretchen’s breasts. He could feel her thick nipple between his lips. He squeezed it gently with his teeth and teased it with his tongue. He pushed his head harder into her breasts and reveled at the way his face sunk into its firm softness. The feeling brought back memories of Donna’s huge tits covering his face and cutting off his air until he couldn’t even breathe. It reminded him of Aunt Elizabeth sitting on his lap, pressing her bosom into his chest and then rising up until his chin sunk into the deep valley of cleavage that lay between her two beautiful mounds of flesh. He could feel Gretchen’s nipple growing larger in his mouth as if it were trying to tell him that it was enjoying the pleasure as much as . . . “No!” Before Brian even had time to react to the sound of Gretchen’s shriek, she had pushed him off with such force that he flew halfway across the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked bewilderedly. Gretchen’s face was red with rage. “You were doing it too long! You know that I don’t like anything for too long!” “You mean kissing you . . . “ “You know exactly what I mean, and you did it too long!” “I’m sorry,” he stammered, trying desperately to maintain his composure. “I’ll do something else.” “No, it’s too late,” Gretchen snapped. “You’ve ruined it.” All Brian wanted was to get back to where they were before. But he could feel any chance of saving this evening quickly slipping through his fingers. “Please, Gretchen, don’t be like that. We can still . . . ” “Be like what?” Gretchen screamed. “It’s not my fault that you’re a goddamned fucking pig!” Brian took a deep breath. “Let’s try to talk this through. We can still . . . ” “I said no!” It was over. The tone of finality in Gretchen’s voice made that clear. She reached for the sheets and pulled them over herself, covering her body as if Brian were some stranger that had wandered into her bedroom. It was the final insult. Brian climbed off the bed, gathered his clothes in his arms and left the room.
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