Chapter 1

I admit that I was nervous, sitting there in Mrs. Anderson’s waiting room that first time. Her receptionist was quite fierce and hadn’t even smiled at me when I’d told her who I was and given her a nice smile of my own. Even now, I kept catching her giving me weird looks when she thought that I wasn’t watching.

I didn’t really understand why I was there. We’d both been enjoying it that afternoon in my English teacher, Mrs Morrison’s form room. I may have only been twelve, but I knew that for a fact. For a start, she’d had no panties on. Why didn’t she? Well, because I’d asked her not to. Why was I sure? Because my hand was up her skirt and I’d had two fingers in her gloriously wet vagina.

The cry that she’d let out when we’d heard the door open behind us, which she later claimed was shock, I thought was more anguish and frustration. I have no idea when her last orgasm may have been, but, judging by the way she was grinding on my hand and the way she was clinging onto me and digging her fingers into my back, it may have been a while.

If I’d told them that she had no panties on the whole thing would have gone a different way entirely: she’d have been suspended, and probably fired, and I’d have been the victim. But I didn’t want that to happen at all. So Mom and Dad got called and ... well ... here I was. If only they’d knocked ... Sigh.

I wasn’t very nervous. I’d never been to a shrink before, but I was pretty certain that it was just talking. But then there had been phrases I’d overheard from my folks. Phrases that I didn’t like the sound of at all: ‘make him better’, ‘sort him out’, and that type of thing. I didn’t want to be made better and I didn’t want to be sorted out!

I heard the door handle to her office turning and looked up.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been the beautiful woman who opened the door and smiled at me.

She was dressed in a white silky-looking blouse with a tie bow neck, and a cream, pencil skirt that came to just above the knees. It was a very demure outfit, but the blouse gave hints of a generous, firm pair of breasts, and the skirt showed off the swell of her hips and her long shapely legs quite wonderfully.

She had slightly wavy, dark blonde hair flowing to her shoulders, and a lovely lightly-tanned oval face, with high cheekbones and incredible piercing blue eyes.

“Lucas?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, standing up. It was only then that I realized that she was quite petite, only a little taller than me, even though she had heels on. I gave her my very best smile. The one that, ever since I can remember, seemed to make people like me. No, scratch that, it seemed to make women and girls like me. Now that I thought about it, it’d never even occurred to me that I might use it on a man. It just didn’t seem right, somehow. When I’d been very young, they’d smile back, and maybe pinch my cheek, or ruffle my hair, and say things to my mom like: “He’ll be a little heart-breaker” or “What a little cutie” or “Watch out for this one”. I didn’t really understand what they meant, but I liked that they liked me.

In the last few years that smile had gotten me some kisses as well, and once Mandy Archer had shown me her panties. Again, I didn’t really understand, but I liked it all a lot.

Mrs. Anderson seemed to like the smile as well, and her face looked even prettier when she returned it with a beautiful one of her own.

She held out her hand to me. “I’m Mrs. Anderson, but please call me Helen,” she said as we shook. Her voice had a very slight huskiness to it that seemed to go right through me. She gestured for me to go in, and, as I passed her, I caught just a waft of a lovely floral perfume with just a hint of muskiness.

“Please take a seat, Lucas,” she said, indicating a leather chair. “Or lie down if you prefer.” I lay down on the black couch. She sat down on a chair close by and picked up a pad of paper and a pen.

“Have you ever been to a therapist before, Lucas?” she asked. I shook my head.

“Firstly, nothing you say to me will leave this room. You have my word on that. I’m hoping that you’ll be able to be completely honest with me. This is a safe place and we’re just going to be talking so that I can get to know you a little better. Does that sound alright?”

It sounded good: no talk of cure, or fixing, or anything like that! “Yes,” I answered. “Helen. Thank you.”

“Why do you think that you’re here today, Lucas?”

That was easy, “I touched my English teacher ... erm ... inappropriately,” I told her. She frowned slightly, clearly not too happy with that answer.

“When was the first time that you had sexual feelings like that?”

Ah, I thought. So she wants it all. I cast my mind back...

“It all began with my big sister, Janice, or at least her books.” I began, settling back into the comfy leather cushions of her couch.

“We both loved reading. Janice was three years older than me and she taught me to read before I even went to kindergarten. We’d often sit together in her room, or in the lounge, quietly reading. Sometimes I’d ask her questions, if there was something I didn’t understand.”

I glanced over at Helen and she smiled encouragingly at me, so I carried on.

“That went on for ages ... years ... and we both loved it.”

“And did something change?” she prompted as I tailed off.

“Well, normally I let her choose what my next book would be. But one time I just looked along her shelves and picked one for myself. I was about eleven, I think.”

“Was this book different, somehow?”

I glanced at her a bit nervously, wondering how much should I tell her? She’d said to be honest ... so I decided not to hold anything back.

“It had people ... you know, men and women, kissing ... and touching each other.”

“How did that make you feel, Lucas?” she asked softly.

“I didn’t understand too much at the time, but it made me feel good ... kind of warm inside.”

“Did Janice mind that you read that book?”

I thought back. “No, I don’t think so. I might have asked a few questions about words I didn’t understand. But she just smiled and answered them.” I paused. “She did ask me if I’d liked the scene where they’d ... made love.”

“And what did you tell her?”

Again, I looked in Helen’s direction. She was sitting forward on her chair as if to hear me better, and her skirt had ridden up her thighs a little. She had very nice thighs, and they were parted, just a little. I strained to see into that gap, but it was too dark. Janice had told me once that girls and women are always acutely aware of what their skirts are doing. Well, except for our Gran, but I tried not to think about that. She said that if they show you a little leg it’s almost always because they wanted you to see. Did Helen want me to see? My penis gave its first little twitch since I’d entered her office.

“I think I blushed. A lot. She came closer and held my hand. She told me that it was fine. That I hadn’t done anything wrong. That she had more books like that ... if I wanted. I nodded. A lot. And she stroked my face and smiled. ‘You’re so sweet’ she said, and then she kissed me. Just a little peck on the lips. I think that was the first time she’d done that. I mean, she’d kissed me on the cheek, or the top of the head, but not the lips. It made me feel very close to her and I loved it.”

“What happened after that?”

“Well, nothing really, not for ages. We read lots more ... and I guess I learned stuff. You know ... about girls.”

I paused and waited for her to prompt me again, but she just waited. I felt that I had a choice: I could try to downplay what had happened, and get all this over as soon as possible, or I could tell her everything. She seemed a be a lovely lady and I liked talking to her, so...

“I think it was about a year ago. I’d read in a book how a woman liked having her ... between her legs ... touched and rubbed and stroked. By this point I did too,” I confessed. I looked, but Helen was just smiling at me, nibbling on the end of her pen. Were her legs a little farther apart? I really wasn’t sure; the enticing gap was still dark.

“Go on.”

“It was the evening, and Janice was sitting up in bed. I sat next to her, and we chatted and then read for a bit. And then I lay down with my head in her lap. I thought that it might feel nice for her ... but I was very excited as well. She didn’t say anything at first. She just stroked my hair.”

“We read some more. Every now and again I’d move a little, or she’d move a little. I could feel her breathing, and it was getting faster. But then so was mine, and I was very ... erm...”

“Erect,” Helen suggested. I looked over at her, quite surprised. “You were erect. Is that right, Lucas?” Again she had that soft, encouraging smile. My eyes looked down a little and I could see her nipples through her blouse. They were erect too.

I smiled back. “Yes, I was.”

“After that, we always read like that, me with my head in her lap. At first, it was over the covers, but then she began rolling those back, and it would just be a T-shirt or nighty between my face and her...”

“Vagina,” Helen provided.

I’d already been quite hard, thinking back on those times, and hearing this beautiful woman say that word was somehow incredibly exciting.

“Yes, her vagina,” I confirmed. “Janice’s vagina.” It felt good to say it to her as well.

I thought for a while before I continued, because what happened next was Janice’s secret too, and it felt somehow wrong to be telling it. But Helen had said everything was just between her and me. And I didn’t think that Janice would mind if it was like that.

I heard a soft rustle and, when I looked, Helen had slid even further forward on her chair, and her skirt was definitely higher now.

I knocked on Janice’s bedroom door, as I always did before going in. Mom had burst in on her one time, and Janice had thrown an absolute fit. Mom was all apologies and had even made a point over dinner to say sorry to Janice, and to remind everyone that bedrooms were private places and that had to be respected.