              The Slut I Am, A Letter To My Therapist
                      (Changing My Life)
               Goose's Mind Continues to Wander


Dr. Watkins,
   I know it has been a while since I wrote you.  I also know that I
am going to have to come in and see you.  We really need to sort
all of this out.  Still, at this point it is so much easier to
write you than to talk to you.
   Anyway, a lot has happened since my last letter.
   You know Doctor, I thought I had seen and done it all.  Raped and
losing my virginity at fourteen by my Uncle Jack, turned away by
my family for a pregnancy I had no control over, and then as if
that were not enough, Aunt Charlotte molded and sculpted me into
a whore. Looking at all of that, one has to ask; if all of that
happened before my twenty-first birthday, is there anything left?
Has my lifestyle been cast in stone for me?
   In my last letter, I told you about my date.  I know the man was
a client but every man I knew at the time was a client.  Still,
it was a date in my mind.  He took me to dinner.  We actually
went out.  Even though we fucked me in the back seat of his limo
in plain view of his driver, which, by the way, was the most
amazing sex I had ever had.  It was still a date to me, mainly
because it was the first time I had ever really wanted a man to
fuck me.  As I explained in my last letter, I have fucked
thousands of men willingly.  Never, until that night, had I
actually craved a specific man.  Never, had my pussy flooded my
panties in wanting.  Never, had any cock felt so welcome in my
cunt.  This may sound crazy but for the first time in my life, I
didn't feel like he was just using my body, getting his rocks
off.  No, this time we were fucking each other.  We were on equal
ground.  Nobody was getting  paid.  Does that make any since at
all?
   It didn't end there however.
   If you will remember, my date asked me if I wanted to fuck or
make love.  My answer was I wanted both.
   He gave me everything I wanted.  As we rode down Lake Shore Drive
adjusting our clothes, Jerry, my date, instructed his driver to
take us home.  Home, as it turned out, was Jerry's penthouse.
   I didn't say anything.  I must have given him a strange look.  It
was instinctual, as you know; Charlotte and I never went to a
client's home.  The client always came to us.
   I was acting like a pro again.
   "I still want to make love to you," he said.
   "Really, I was just joking back there when you asked me which I
wanted."  As the words rolled from my tongue, even I could hear
how cold and hard they sounded.
   He touched my hand, not my breast, not my thigh, my hand.  I know
that may not sound significant to some but it spoke volumes to
me.
   "You're looking for something, something you have been denied.  I
want to give it to you."
   I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.  I knew he was
right.  Still, I did not want him to make more of the date than
it was.  It was just a date.  Of course, it was an important date
for me.  Still, it was just a date.
   "What you are looking for," he continued, "cannot be found in
your own bed.  Everything has to be fresh and new.  I want to
help you escape your bonds."  (Does that sound like something you
would ask?  I found out later that he is a Psychiatrist.)
   Bonds, I wondered.  Is that what I was trying to do, escape?  If
that was what I wanted, all I had to do was walk away.  I didn't
have to keep fucking for a living.  Aunt Charlotte had invested
well.  I could quit selling my ass and go to college.  I could
sell the apartment Charlotte and I had shared, put that money
with my investments and go back to Iowa.  I could live
comfortable in Iowa on that kind of money.
   I kept all of those thoughts to myself.  I simply let him lead me
in whatever direction this night would take us.
   Lead me, he did.  Within thirty minutes, we were dancing slowly
around his spacious living room to soft music.  He held me
tenderly in his arms. We paused momentarily to sip Champaign.
   As we danced, he kissed me.  It wasn't a hard chew your lips off
kiss.  No, it was soft and warm.  Never having been kissed like
that, it sent a warm feeling through out me.
   He took the glass from my hand, sitting it down on a nearby table
and without a word lifted me in his arms, carrying me to his
bedroom like a newlywed.
   In the bedroom, he let me stand on my own just long enough for
him to turn the covers back on the bed.  Returning his attention
to me before the Cinderella feeling could evaporate into the
night, allowing the professional in me to return.
   He kissed me again and again I felt it all the way down to my
toes.  The kiss was long, neither of us wanting to break the
spell.  Eventually though, he moved his kisses to my neck,
pausing to nibble my ear, before gently pulling the straps of my
gown over my shoulders, planting light butterfly kisses in their
place.  Continuing downward, he undressed me along the way. 
   Finally, he was kneeling before me, my clothes in a heap around
my ankles, his face level with my lower belly.
   I could feel his warm breath against my skin.  His breathing was
uneven as he planted light kisses all around my short pubic hair,
teasing my cunt, his kisses stopping just above my slit, which
was parting, opening up more and more with each touch of his
lips.
   My own breathing, ragged, seemed to echo throughout the room.
   Suddenly, I was on the bed, the cool sheets a mild shock to my
overheated skin.  Then he was beside me.  I don't know how he got
undressed without me noticing.  Nevertheless, there he was.  His
body hot against mine, our flesh, although separate, melting into
one.
   As he rolled on top of me, I instinctually opened my legs wide to
welcome him. I could feel my own juices, cool and wet, dripping
down the crack of my ass.  Resting his weight on his elbows, he
felt weightless to me.  Then he moved closer, lowering his body
until I felt his hard cock resting against my pubic bone.
As I started to reach between us to guide him home, he gently
took my hand and placed it on his backside, just above the swell
of his ass.
   "Not yet," he whispered.
   I raised my hands to caress his face causing my breasts to rise
up, my hardened nipples making contact with the soft curls of his
chest hair.
   Dr. Watkins, I don't know how to explain it. I felt like I was on
a strange planet, somewhere I had never been, experiencing
something I had never experienced.
   Raising and adjusting his hips, the head of his cock found my
opening without assistance from either of us.
   He didn't thrust or push.  He simply let his dick slip into me
slowly filling me.  Once he was all in, he paused.  Then slowly
and very deliberately, he began his motion.  Raising his hips, he
would pull completely out of me.  Then, with the care and
precision of a surgeon, he would once again allow his meat to
return to my inner depths.   Each time felt like the first.  Each
time he exited, my pussy closed just enough that his cock had to
stretch it open again upon re-entering me.  It was amazing.  I
had no idea I could feel all the things I was feeling.
   Putting his arms beneath me, he pulled my upper body tight him,
my breasts mushrooming against him, my nipples caressed by his
chest hairs.  
   At the same time, I could feel his cock, warm and
hard between my legs.  I crossed my ankles in the small of his
back allowing me to tilt my cunt upward and pull him deeper.
   His cock began to swell to greater dimensions inside me. 
   Experience told me he was almost ready.  I prepared myself for
the punishing strokes that always pre-empted a man dumping his
load.
   He surprised me however by stopping, waiting for his needs to
subside before continuing as tenderly as before.
   We continued like that for a long and heavenly time.  Then he was
whispering in my ear, "I'm going to cum."
    The pro in me wanted to help him.  The pro wanted to shout out,
"Yeah baby give it to me, cum in my pussy."  Instead, I just
smiled at him, welcoming him, thanking him for giving me his
seed.
   How crazy is that.
   I never came, it never occurred to me to cum.  Totally wrapped up
in feeling him inside me I forgot about cumming.  How can I put
this?  It was as if it wasn't even sexual at all.  Of course, it
was as sexual as one can get.  His dick was inside me.  He was
fucking me.  Still, it was more spiritual than sexual.  (Yeah,
I'll get in to see you soon.  I know it sounds like I am losing
it completely.)
   That is how it was though.
   Doc I hope you are sitting down, because here is the real
shocker.  I spent the night with him.  That's right, I slept in
his bed, curled up in his arms.  You know what else?  It felt
good.
   Don't worry.  I haven't gone off the deep end.  We're not talking
love or anything like that.  It was still just sex. 
   Nevertheless, it was a different kind of sex than I had ever
known.
   The only problem with the entire night was the awkwardness I felt
the next morning.  I didn't know how to act, what to say or do. 
   He helped me with that however.  As we ate breakfast, he steered
the conversation toward everything except our date.
   When it was time to leave, he called me a cab.  He said he didn't
want me to have to face his driver.  I appreciated that.  Before
that night, I would not have had a problem knowing his driver
watched us fuck.  On this particular morning, I think I would
have actually been embarrassed.
  That is all for now.  I will be making an appointment to see you
soon.  It seems my issues, as you call them, with sex are
becoming either more confused or more clear.  I'm not sure which.
