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t flat-out uniquely beautiful.</p><p id="c1ef">There is something soothing about her, and there was something comforting about what was happening. It was like I was now welcomed into a space of authenticity.</p><h2 id="8a72">But I was also rockhard. Lol.</h2><p id="b815">My dick hugs the side of my jeans, and so she might not have noticed — I wouldn’t have been pitching a tent as much as I would’ve just had a long lump going down my left leg. My head was soothed by seeing her topless, but my body felt something about it, too.</p><blockquote id="7929"><p>“Whenever you’re ready, try to feel my heartbeat.”</p></blockquote><p id="9914">I nodded and delicately placed my hand underneath my therapists’ left breast. Her boobs are big enough that I was essentially cupping it but small enough that it didn’t feel like I was blatantly copping a feel.</p><p id="97d3">We closed our eyes and breathed together, and eventually, I felt her heartbeat, and I realized that it didn’t seem that different than mine. At least for now.</p><p id="f37d">We sat back and talked about it for a while, and what it meant for me to feel my heartbeat and compare it to another person. We went back and forth a couple of times, feeling one another’s chest to exemplify our discussion of how the breath affects the feeling of your heartbeat.</p><p id="3c13">She kept putting my hand back under her breast, further and further up every time, as she spoke. I couldn’t help myself and squeezed it kinda/sorta — just barely — during one of these moments.</p><h2 id="f360">She didn’t say anything,</h2><p id="12ff">but I felt and heard her breath come out a bit harder. I wondered if she was upset, but she put my hand back once again later.</p><p id="0051">She moved back to her chair eventually, but she didn’t pull her blouse back up or put her bra back on until I left. She spoke to me with her breasts exposed for the rest of the session.</p><p id="3649">We didn’t acknowledge the erotic side of things at all, either, but just talked about the natural state of the body, breath, and heart. Still, it was as if she was waiting for me to say something about the turn-on that it was to be speaking to her while she was casually topless.</p><p id="ca32">Even as she assured me that bodies are simply bodies, I swear she wanted me to see her looking at my dick hardening against my leg; she just kept looking, like… eventually, it was obvious. I guess bodies are bodies.</p><p id="7fd0">I have another appointment soon, and no indication that anything about that’s changed; still, I feel like the FBI is gonna break down my door or something.</p><p id="8c5e">I tried searching forums for similar experiences but I’ve not found anybody that’s been in this kind of situation.</p><p id="5b55">I know it's highly unethical according to whatever Board of whatever Psychologists but I’m a 26-year-old grown, functional, man, so please spare any comments making me out to be a victim here; I’m in therapy, but I know when I’m comfortable with something. And this was fine.</p><h2 id="5295">It was super hot but like… idk,</h2><p id="8b43">There was something nice about it that wasn’t just purely eroticism. I’ll do whatever she suggests, I guess. My life has majorly, majorly improved since I started seeing her and I trust her judgment.</p><p id="5118">I’ve been feeling very turned on and isolated these days and reflecting on past encounters helps me feel better. Don’t forget to <b>follow me.</b></p><p id="0c24"><i>I’m sending you so much love </i>💋 <b><i>Olivia</i></b></p><h1 id="493e">Get an email whenever I share a story!</h1><p id="aee0">47,000+ followers & more. Stories and confessions about wildest sexual experiences. <a href="https://medium.com/subscribe/@oliviamorellan"><b>Subscribe</b></a></p><p id="3152">Use my <a href="https://medium.com/@oliviamorellan/membership">affiliate link</a> to become a <b>Medium</b> member for <a href="https://medium.com/@oliviamorellan/membership"><b>unlimited access</b></a> to my stories, plus the rest of <a href="https://medium.com/@oliviamorellan/membership">Medium</a>.</p><h2 id="e029">To go deeper, take a look at,</h2><p id="7002">— You won’t be disappointed.</p><div id="9221" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-reached-to-climax-with-my-roommate-1302dbc6d54"> <div> <div> <h2>I Reached to Climax with My Roommate</h2> <div><h3>I still can’t believe how my sexy college fantasy dream become real</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*ebnyxl1MADWy3JOFJc5Avg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="9c98" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/wifes-revelation-about-fellow-wedding-guest-76241c4b1abb"> <div> <div> <h2>Wife’s Revelation About Fellow Wedding Guest</h2> <div><h3>Should have invited him up for a threesome!</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*-Neok30uB4xLba6haGjPfg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="69ba" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/my-coworkers-daughter-5b93cf9ee960"> <div> <div> <h2>My Coworker’s Daughter</h2> <div><h3>“I wish I had a boss like you.”</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*joIbN1SybeUaLfCsfM6Eug.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="6d74" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-dominated-my-roommate-to-get-over-a-breakup-ddaf0c9df1e1"> <div> <div> <h2>I Dominated My Roommate to Get Over a Breakup</h2> <div><h3>Definitely some of the best and most unique sex I ever had.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div

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I Felt My Therapist’s Breast During Our Last Session

No regrets.

By freepik — www.freepik.com

I’m 26 years old, and I have been seeing the same trauma therapist for several years.

I’ve always thought she was pretty. She’s very much bohemian and all that. Messy brown hair, relaxed semi-professional clothing with plenty of low-cut tops and ornate skirts, and a very pretty, natural face.

I’m not sure exactly how old she is but her degree on the wall is from 2012 so she’s probably somewhere in her thirties I guess, maybe pushing 40 at the oldest.

We mostly practice mindfulness, and a big theme of my therapy has been recognizing bodily sensations. Yoga, fun exercise like hiking, dancing, rock climbing, etc have all been helpful tools for me, and most of those things were her idea. Aside from talking about the trauma, we spend a lot of time talking about the body; this has been very healing for me.

A couple of days ago,

I was telling her about my concern with a new symptom of anxiety that has cropped up. When I get anxious now, I start to feel really crazy heart palpitations.

Like, the fluttering kind where it feels as if your heart stops and then picks up too many beats. We figure it’s just anxiety because I went to the ER for it once and got an EKG and all that and they said everything is fine.

When it happens, though, I feel unconvinced that it's harmless. One of her theories is that it could have to do with weird anxious breathing, so we decided to practice some breathing exercises together.

I typically sit on the same nice, fuzzy, white couch that is in her office She usually sits in a chair across from it, unless we’re practicing yoga or stuff like this. She sat next to me now, as we have several times before, on the couch.

She smelled like lavender

“Bring your hand to your heart soothingly, and feel the way it rises when you breathe,”

she told me softly as I placed my feet properly on the ground, closed my eyes, and followed her instruction. We did this for a few seconds when I felt my heart do it again — a feeling like it stopped and then suddenly beat really fast. I gasped,

“I just felt it again!”

I was positively ready to run to the ER at this point.

My therapist paused and listened as I explained how it felt. With my hand still on my heart, even as I was explaining it, I felt it again; this time, in my panic, I grabbed her hand and set it against my chest so she could feel it.

She seemed shocked at first, and I felt her pull away — but then a second ticked by where she understood what I was trying to do, and she relaxed. She closed her eyes and nodded as my heart stopped for a split second and then went, boom, boom, boom.

“See?”

I insisted. It stops and then like… catches up.”

She listened carefully, eyes shut as she felt my heartbeat, and was silent for a while. Eventually, she asked,

“…Have you ever felt a heartbeat before?”

I laughed, as if she was joking, but then looked to see her bright green eyes looking at me with a sad smile.

Was this just what hearts felt like? Maybe I’d never realized it before since I’ve spent years stuck in my head.

“…I guess not. Is that really how it’s supposed to feel?”

My therapist nodded, and I sat there for a moment, trying to understand. She placed a hand on mine.

“Here, you can even feel mine.”

And just like that, she placed my hand up against her left breast. I was hesitant at first, and as if to assure me that this was okay, she pushed my hand underneath the cup of her bust to firmly press against her chest.

She was wearing a low-cut floral blouse; her breast spilled over the top just a bit, but there was this awkward bunch of fabric right where she was trying to get me to feel. I realized that I felt a bra wire, too.

I felt a familiar stiffening in my pants. I ignored it because I really did want to feel the heartbeat and be assured that it felt like mine.

I closed my eyes and breathed with her for a while, but couldn’t feel anything behind the crinkled fabric and the pad of her bra. After about thirty seconds, I nervously chuckled and said,

“Ah, I actually don’t, um, feel anything right now.”

She didn’t reply at first, so I opened my eyes and swore I saw her gaze flick away from my pants. She met my eyes and said,

“If you’re completely comfortable with this, I’d like to expose my chest so that you can properly feel it.”

I’ve never said no to the offering of titties, and I wasn’t about to start.

And so I withdrew my hand as my therapist reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, and I saw her reasonably-sized breasts fall free in her blouse.

“Still okay?”

She asked. I nodded. Then — astoundingly — she pushed the shoulders/sleeves of her blouse off, and it fell down her body to reveal her naked chest.

I stared at her tits for a second and then anxiously looked away. She saw this and reassuringly patted my shoulder,

“Hey, I am comfortable if you are. There is nothing for either of us to be ashamed of right now. This is just my body, and…”

she smiled and playfully raised her eyebrows,

“I think it’s a good one. You can look.” And so I did.

Her curly brown locks spilled down her shoulders, framing the perky handfuls that faced me. Honestly, there’s a lot of sexy women out there, but this one is just flat-out uniquely beautiful.

There is something soothing about her, and there was something comforting about what was happening. It was like I was now welcomed into a space of authenticity.

But I was also rockhard. Lol.

My dick hugs the side of my jeans, and so she might not have noticed — I wouldn’t have been pitching a tent as much as I would’ve just had a long lump going down my left leg. My head was soothed by seeing her topless, but my body felt something about it, too.

“Whenever you’re ready, try to feel my heartbeat.”

I nodded and delicately placed my hand underneath my therapists’ left breast. Her boobs are big enough that I was essentially cupping it but small enough that it didn’t feel like I was blatantly copping a feel.

We closed our eyes and breathed together, and eventually, I felt her heartbeat, and I realized that it didn’t seem that different than mine. At least for now.

We sat back and talked about it for a while, and what it meant for me to feel my heartbeat and compare it to another person. We went back and forth a couple of times, feeling one another’s chest to exemplify our discussion of how the breath affects the feeling of your heartbeat.

She kept putting my hand back under her breast, further and further up every time, as she spoke. I couldn’t help myself and squeezed it kinda/sorta — just barely — during one of these moments.

She didn’t say anything,

but I felt and heard her breath come out a bit harder. I wondered if she was upset, but she put my hand back once again later.

She moved back to her chair eventually, but she didn’t pull her blouse back up or put her bra back on until I left. She spoke to me with her breasts exposed for the rest of the session.

We didn’t acknowledge the erotic side of things at all, either, but just talked about the natural state of the body, breath, and heart. Still, it was as if she was waiting for me to say something about the turn-on that it was to be speaking to her while she was casually topless.

Even as she assured me that bodies are simply bodies, I swear she wanted me to see her looking at my dick hardening against my leg; she just kept looking, like… eventually, it was obvious. I guess bodies are bodies.

I have another appointment soon, and no indication that anything about that’s changed; still, I feel like the FBI is gonna break down my door or something.

I tried searching forums for similar experiences but I’ve not found anybody that’s been in this kind of situation.

I know it's highly unethical according to whatever Board of whatever Psychologists but I’m a 26-year-old grown, functional, man, so please spare any comments making me out to be a victim here; I’m in therapy, but I know when I’m comfortable with something. And this was fine.

It was super hot but like… idk,

There was something nice about it that wasn’t just purely eroticism. I’ll do whatever she suggests, I guess. My life has majorly, majorly improved since I started seeing her and I trust her judgment.

I’ve been feeling very turned on and isolated these days and reflecting on past encounters helps me feel better. Don’t forget to follow me.

I’m sending you so much love 💋 Olivia

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