In my mind, I didn't refer to him as Doctor. Instead, I thought of him as Gabriel. A beautiful name for a beautiful man.

While sitting in his office late that afternoon (or was it early evening?), not long past five, I hated myself for finding my therapist attractive. After all, he was working with the enemy. The enemy being my mother.

It was our third session, and I didn't feel this was doing me any good. Gabriel and I had lapsed into one of our brief silences. I knew he was waiting for me to open my mouth and spill my guts. Sometimes I was tempted to do just that, if only to interrupt the quiet. The rest of the building was empty and still; the receptionist had gone home once Gabriel called me back to his private office.

I wasn't in the mood to be accommodating today. Instead, I folded my arms over my chest while settling back against the couch. I had to admit, the couch was nice. It was plush, its color a surprisingly deep red. I figured plenty of patients stretched out on it while confessing their hidden fears and desires.

Across from me, Gabriel sat in a leather wingback chair. He'd folded his long legs, and a notepad rested upon his thigh. His pen was poised above the page, ready to scribble my words. On the desk to his left was a framed picture of him and his wife. She was pretty in a wholesome housewife sort of way. Of course, I was making assumptions. For all I knew, she might be bossy and ambitious. Maybe she wore the pants in the relationship.

I guessed Gabriel was in his mid-thirties, but his button-down shirt, paisley tie, and tailored pants made him seem older to me. He kept his dark blond hair short and neat. There was an elegance about him I secretly admired. Maybe even envied.

Meanwhile, I was a gawky nineteen-year-old working as a janitor second-shift at a large office complex in town. Since I'd be heading to my job as soon as I was finished with this appointment, I was wearing my hideous uniform: a cheap gray shirt and slightly darker gray pants, also cheap. Even worse was the patch on my shirt with my name embroidered on it. Ned. Not a beautiful name. Not like Gabriel.

Though Gabriel now cleared his throat, as if to remind me of each passing minute my mom was paying for, I wouldn't look at him. Instead, I let my stare wander around the room. We were a few days into the new year, and of course he already had his 1979 calendar up on the wall. There were cryptic notes jotted in a few of the boxes. 

"How are things at home?" Gabriel finally asked. "Between you and your mother."

I felt a petty twinge of triumph at having made him speak first. Forcing myself to meet his expectant gaze, I shrugged.

"Mom thinks..." Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, which was a boring light brown and way longer than Gabriel's. "She thinks you're fixing me."

I saw the shadow of a smile on his lips. His eyes, normally an understated shade of blue, appeared to brighten at that moment.

"Fixing you?"

"Well, yeah." I couldn't help but scowl. "That's why she sent me here. We don't talk about what happened."

And what happened, you might ask? Well, Mom came home early from work and caught me and our neighbor, Eddie, jerking each other off in the backyard. It was an unseasonably warm day in November. No one else had been around; the houses on either side of us were empty. We thought we were safe.

Mom actually screamed when she saw us. Eddie, who was a few years older than me, hung around just long enough to put his dick away. Then he bolted toward his own house. 

I'd turned my back to Mom and made sure I was decent. She didn't even wait until I'd trudged inside before lighting into me. I heard all about how I'd done a dirty, sinful thing, and if my father ever learned of it, he'd throw me out of the house. 

She finally broke down crying, which made me feel awful. She gave me an ultimatum: the only way she wouldn't tell my father was if I agreed to see a shrink. 

"You obviously need to... to talk to someone," Mom had sputtered through her tears. "You're just confused, sweetie."

That was the thing: I wasn't confused at all. I knew exactly who I was, and it didn't bother me in the least. Having to hide it from everyone else? That was what bothered me.

Mom told Dad I needed to see a therapist because I had anxiety. That wasn't at all true, but she had to come up with some excuse. Couldn't let dear old Dad know his son was gay.

"And have you seen Eddie?" Gabriel asked. "Since that day?" His tone was neutral, holding no judgment. He sounded genuinely interested in my answer.

I allowed my shoulders to relax a bit. Rather than keep my arms folded, I loosened up and rested my palms on my legs. 

"Nah," I said. "It didn't mean anything to him. He's getting married this summer, and his fiancee wants to wait till their wedding night to have sex. He was just... getting some relief."

Gabriel leaned forward in his chair, his face open and kind. "Did it mean something to you, Ned?"

I rolled my eyes. Here he was, trying to psychoanalyze me again. I realized that was his job, but I still hated it. 

I leaned forward as well, mirroring him. "You know what it meant to me, Doctor? It meant I was finally getting some action. That was the first time Mom caught me and Eddie, but we'd done stuff before. Lots of stuff."

I expected Gabriel to get all flustered and try to steer the conversation elsewhere. He surprised me by asking, "What other stuff?"

"Uh..." Shit, was I really going to tell him? The thought of doing so caused a familiar warmth to settle in my groin. I swore I felt the faintest pulsing as my dick tried to harden. "He let me suck him off," I rushed on. "I swallowed his cum."

Gabriel said nothing. He merely nodded. 

"I loved the taste of it," I revealed. "I'm not so crazy about tasting my own, but his was a little sweeter." 

Gabriel's tongue tip slid along his lower lip. His expression was... different now. I swore he was breathing faster, and when he sat up straight again, he kept that notepad over his crotch.

No way. No fucking way. I struggled to suppress a grin. This guy wasn't repulsed by what I'd shared. In fact, he reminded me of Eddie when we first started fooling around. My neighbor had looked so distraught, and yet so desperate for my touch. And my mouth.

No doubt about it, I was getting hard beneath my pants. Feeling bolder, I continued talking, sounding a bit short of breath myself. 

"I'd suck him off every day if I could," I told Gabriel. "I think about dick all the time." When my fingers strayed closer to my erection, Gabriel's eyes tracked the movement. "I want to smell and taste it. I want to choke myself on it." I actually grazed the outline of my cock as I asked, "You think that means I'm a basket case?"

Gabriel placed the notepad and pen on his desk, then regarded me again. With a smile, he said, "No, I think it means you're nineteen."

"I don't fantasize about girls, though. Even the prettiest ones do nothing for me. But the minute I think of Eddie, or of you..."

It was impressive, the way Gabriel simply lifted his eyebrows. Despite my best efforts, I hadn't shocked him.

"Me?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah." The word escaped me as a moan. I didn't have to look down to know just how hard I was. Could Gabriel see my erection? Was he fighting back his own?

"I think about you a lot." Without warning, I slipped from the couch and sank to my knees on the floor. For once, I succeeded in surprising him, for he opened his mouth in something like alarm. He actually leaned forward again and extended a hand, like he wanted to help me up.

But we'd both agreed that I didn't need help. 

I crawled across the floor, closing the distance between us. My pants made whispering noises over the carpet. 

"Ned," Gabriel started. 

I kept going until I reached the pointed toe of his Oxford shoe. He still had his legs crossed, and I dared to trail my fingertips along the crease of his pants. 

Tilting my head back, I gave him my most earnest look. "My mom believes I'm sinful. Do you think that, Doctor?"

Gabriel was eerily still while gazing down on me. It was as if he was afraid to move an inch. Though I held his stare for at least ten seconds, he never blinked.

"I don't think you're sinful, no." His voice was little more than a whisper.

"What about when I'm lying in bed and stroking my dick as I imagine sucking yours?" When I eased his legs apart, he didn't try to stop me. "Do you think that's sinful?"

He swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. I could tell he was flailing, trying to regain the proper footing. 

"Who you are, Ned... it's not wrong, but I'm your therapist."

I sensed he was about to rise from the chair. About to put an end to this. 

Before he could, I cupped a hand between his thighs. I'd noticed the bulge there, but now that I was feeling it? That pushed my illicit fantasy into reality. The man was attracted to me!

"Let me see it," I murmured. "Let me take you in my mouth."

Gabriel's head fell back against the chair. I watched his eyes slowly close, and I heard him draw in a shaky breath. He seemed weirdly passive, as if unable to muster up any resistance. All he needed to do was push me away. Yet he just sat there.

So I set about unbuckling his belt. By that point, my dick was painfully hard, and I wished I could free it. But I wanted to keep my focus on Gabriel.

Moments later, I got my first glimpse of his cock. It was maybe six inches long, and slender but with a well-defined tip. His pubic hair formed a wild thatch of curls. 

Instinctively, I started stroking him. He was semi-hard already, and his cock was quick to respond to my touch.

Looking up at Gabriel's face, I saw he still had his eyes closed. Pleasure had made his jaw slacken. 

"You're gorgeous," I praised him. I honestly felt I was worshipping at the feet of a god. My hands were gentle but eager as I explored his length and fondled his balls. Leaning close, I nestled my face in his crotch and inhaled deeply. The scent made my mouth water.

After giving his cock a long, slow lick, I took the head between my lips. He released a faint moan, and I felt him twitch in my mouth.

I knew from past experience with Eddie that he enjoyed me using my tongue tip to play with his hole. Figuring Gabriel might like that as well, I teased that narrow slit and was rewarded with a trace of precum. 

"Ah, yes!" Gabriel now rested a hand on my head. 

I licked the underside of his tip, my tongue working fervently against the sensitive flesh. Spit threatened to leak from the seal I'd made with my lips. 

Gabriel's moans grew more frequent, and I felt another rush of victory when he guided my head downward. This was what I craved: I wanted the man desperate. So desperate that he was willing to push me to my limit.

His shaft, slightly thicker in the middle, stretched my lips. My movement was swift, with no hesitation, and he was soon right at my throat. 

Instead of sliding in, the way Eddie had, Gabriel's tip popped into my pharynx with a surprising amount of pressure. His satisfied groan broke the temporary hush that had fallen over us.

I kept my gag reflex fairly subdued while adjusting to the intrusion, yet I was relieved when Gabriel's hold loosened and I was able to pull off a little. My saliva dripped down his shaft, providing decent lubrication for my hand and lips. Though my lungs screamed for air, I bobbed my head swiftly up and down. Several times, I took that cock down to the root.

Finally, I lifted my head, my chest heaving and my eyes watering. Gabriel's expression alternated between vulnerable and brutal. It was wild, seeing the contrasting emotions flicker across his face. In one moment, he looked like he wanted to apologize. In the next, he seemed ready to grab my hair and face-fuck me.

My confidence now bordering on arrogant, I gave him a playful wink and then returned to sucking his dick. I sensed his approaching orgasm, for his breathing was fast and shallow. His grip on my hair tightened, and he dared to push me down again so I had to take almost his entire length. I gagged and choked but didn't struggle. My own cock was still stiff from my excitement.

"I'm close!" Gabriel cried. "Fuck, I'm gonna come!"

He released me in case I wanted to withdraw. But what I most wanted was that hot, creamy thickness filling my mouth. I made exaggerated noises while doing my best to coax forth his climax. By now, my jaw had started aching, yet it was just another kind of pain I enjoyed.

I heard his sharp, dramatic gasp, and he gave a powerful thrust to bury himself in my throat. To my disappointment, I didn't taste anything at all when he came. At least not at first. 

It was only after the pulses subsided, and he let out a weirdly endearing whimper, that I pulled back so his cockhead lingered at my lips.

I made sure to hold Gabriel's stare while gently squeezing his tip. He must have been sensitive, because a shudder traveled through him. 

And then I got my reward: my milking produced a few more fat drops of cum, which I eagerly lapped up.

"My God," Gabriel moaned as I licked him completely clean. By the time I was done, there wasn't even a hint of semen on that beautiful dick.

I didn't have a chance to linger over his fading erection. When I tried to give his balls another caress, he pushed my hand away. Eddie had gotten that way before, following his orgasm. The shame and regret would be evident on his face. Still, he kept coming back for more until we got caught.

As I climbed to my feet, Gabriel rushed to put away his cock. I turned, giving him privacy while he straightened his clothes. Any minute now, he'd be ordering me out of his office. Despite my dread, my cock had barely softened. 

Though I heard Gabriel stand, I stayed where I was, with my back to him. 

"Ned." 

He made my name sound like an order. I had no choice but to turn around.

His face still held a flush, as if we were in an uncomfortably warm room. Too late, I realized I was licking my lips to gather up any remaining taste of him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you feel that was... therapeutic?"

I blinked once, twice. Was he joking? "Uh, I did, actually. It made me feel like I don't need to be ashamed of who I am."

Gabriel nodded. My answer clearly pleased him. It was my turn to blush when his gaze traveled to my crotch. My uniform pants weren't very thick, so I was sure he could see my erection.

"Come here."

His tone was no longer commanding. Now, he sounded persuasive, almost tender.

I quickly approached until I stood before him. Somehow, I hid my surprise as he took hold of me. I let him position me so I was facing the smooth expanse of his desk. 

Standing behind me, he slipped his arms around my waist. My eyes widened, and I dared to relax into his embrace.

His palms moved over my shirt. Once his hands settled on my chest, he pulled me more firmly against him. 

"Take out your cock," he whispered in my ear. 

I rushed to obey, though the task took me longer than it should have because I was shaking. When my erection finally sprang free, I wanted to release a moan of relief.

I couldn't help but whimper at the feel of Gabriel reaching around and grasping my dick.

"Do you like this?" His breath was hot on my skin. "Do you find it helpful, Ned?"

"So helpful!" My eyes rolled from the force of my pleasure.

I looked down to watch my therapist stroke me off. He did this amazing thing with his wrist while his hand glided along my shaft. It felt as if his touch was everywhere at once.

"Oh shit, that feels good!" I choked out.

In response, he started grinding against me. His hand pumped faster at my dick, and faster still, until I knew I was just moments from coming.

It was his lips at my neck that sent me over. That warm, wet mouth, and that greedy tongue grazing my skin, made my entire body tense.

A second later, my semen shot forth in a powerful streak to rain down on the desk. I grunted and gasped, occasionally swearing. And Gabriel's hand kept moving.

"That's it. Let go for me!" he urged.

He didn't stop until my balls were drained dry. Again, I leaned against him for support. A ridiculous giggle escaped me as I came down from the most powerful orgasm of my life.

I missed Gabriel's warmth when he finally released me and stepped away. Once I'd put away my cock, I reached for the box of tissues on his desk so I could clean up the mess.

"Don't worry about that," he told me. "I'll take care of it. You need to make sure you're not late for work."

His tone had returned to clinical. We were clearly resuming our roles of doctor and patient.

When I looked at him again, I was glad he didn't appear remorseful. If anything, he seemed relaxed. I felt I was witnessing a side of him he rarely shared with others. How often did his wife get to see him this way?

"So, Doc..." I flashed a grin. "Am I cured?"

I expected him to let out an exasperated sigh, or perhaps even chide me. 

Instead, his eyes were warm as he replied, "You never needed treatment, Ned. You're an incredibly bright, well-adjusted, and self-aware young man. I'll be happy to tell your mother that no further sessions are necessary."

I made a show of licking my lips while inching closer to him. "But if I were to have a sudden bout of anxiety..."

Gabriel's smile was knowing. "Then you should schedule another appointment. I'll see you free of charge."