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Looking like no therapist or psychiatrist should look who wasn't a sex therapist, with her long, natural blonde hair cradling the sides of her face and cascading down her back, if she was sitting there naked, she'd evoke the image of a modern day version of Lady Godiva. If she was sitting there naked, she couldn't be any more desirable then than she was fully dressed as sexy as she was dressed now. With her being so hot, if she was sitting there naked, no doubt, she'd set off the smoke alarms. If she was sitting at one of the table games in Las Vegas or Atlantic City, dealers would be calling for the eye in the sky to stare down her low cut and partially unbuttoned blouses.
* * * * *
She wore a short, tight, navy blue skirt that showed the round protrusion of her firm ass and enough of her long, shapely legs to attract the attention of those men who preferred asses and/or long, sexy legs to big breasts. Giving them a full selection of her a la carte menu, legs, ass, or tits, she wore a low cut, steel blue, silk blouse that lit up her big, blue eyes as if they were sparkling emeralds. For those who preferred breasts to asses and/or legs, she showed enough of her deep line of cleavage and ample bosoms to tease their interest and captivate their sexual desire. Straightforward in her sexual desire, she was more than subtle in advertising her God given gifts by highlighting her goods to her best advantage.
Painted the color of a Toreador's cape for her to attract the bull, her lips were ready to not only tame the bull and take down the bull but also to see through the bull that testosterone filled men were too quick to give. Difficult not to envision lipstick on their dipstick when seeing the full coverage of her red, ruby lips, what man wouldn't want to kiss those lips before parting those lips with his tongue and later with his cock? So stunningly beautiful and available in a bar full of average, young, emotionally dependent women who didn't know who they wanted and how to get him if they did know which man they wanted, it was no contest. Fatal in their attraction to her and dead on arrival at their apartment when being so controlled by her and while having sex with her, the men flocked to her as if she was a fatal car accident. With her having her pick of men, having no problem picking up the one man that she so wanted, men always gravitated to her.
With some women blessed with beauty, Anna Nicole Smith and Christie Brinkley, for example, God help them. Other women are blessed with brains, such as, Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Hilary Clinton, God love them too. A rarified and dangerous combination, Susan was blessed with both beauty and brains. Whatever she couldn't get with her brains, she was able to get with her beauty.
She sat at the bar as if she was a high priced call girl waiting for a John to make her an offer to take her home. Only, not there for the money but there for the sex, she wasn't a hooker. Destroying the one thing that she so enjoyed, being in love with Steven, in the way that she surrendered her virginity and only had sex for love with only one man so very long ago, with nothing more to lose, in the way she'd never trade sex for money, she'd never again have sex for love. Now instead of having sex for love, having sex for anything but for fun would ruin her from having sex ever again.
In the way that some men enjoy smoking a fine cigar while sipping an expensive, single malt scotch, Susan enjoyed a young man licking her pussy before she sucked his cock to stiffen him before injecting her with his erect hardness. As if she was their personal for hire sin eater, psychiatric therapy took as much of a toll on her as it did on her patients. After spending her days listening to the misery of others, she needed a break and a safety zone of having empty, meaningless sex with a man she didn't know and would never see again. She needed that human sexual connection to release all the shit she's had to listen to, endure, and comment on during her week of non-stop therapy that she gave patients who could afford to pay her $300 for their 45 minute sessions.
Not an easy feat to maintain her professionalism and not laugh at some of the things that some mentally and/or emotionally disturbed people thought problematic, she refrained from crying over and becoming personal involved with the problems and issues of others. Even though she was paid well for helping those who were unable and/or unwilling to help themselves, each one took a piece of her skin. For her to make herself whole again, she had random sex with men nearly young enough to be her son. Then there were those who seemingly she failed when they took their own lives. Too late and too lost, she still felt personally responsible that she was unable to help them. Having Saturday night random sex made her forget about them too.
* * * * *
With her mind preoccupied on young Steven, she thought of him in the way that she always thought of her ex-lover Steven. She knew that it was because of her thinking about young Steven that she was striking out at the bar tonight. He haunted her and she was unable to shake him from her thoughts. Unable focus long enough to study her new potential sex candidates that she knew were there and waiting for her to give them the eye, she left the bar alone.
An easy walk down the street a few blocks, she returned to Steven's apartment. She stood outside looking up at his windows. Hoping he was home, opened the door, climbed the stairs, and knocked on his apartment door. Only when he answered the door, surprised that he wasn't home alone, she was even more surprised by who was with him
To be continued...
