Family Therapist - Chapter 8 (Fm, some Inc) WARNING: Adults only. This material is not suitable for minors. ------- Chapter 8 "I... can't right now... I am in the little grocery store..." she whispered, glancing around with sudden guilt, "with my husband...", she added quietly, nervously looking again for him, knowing that Martha would understand. Hoping that she would, anyway. "Can I call you this afternoon?" she paused, listening, "Yes, after mass..." she nodded into the phone, "OK, I will," she said softly, pressing the red hang-up button. She hadn't seen her therapist in quite a while - only a few times since... since the... a tingle creeping between her legs as she reached for the head of iceberg lettuce, her mind elsewhere all of a sudden - STOP IT! she forced herself. But Martha had insinuated... no. She would not. Not again. She made her way through the fresh produce section, her husband off picking out some steaks for dinner, cold cuts for lunches, whatever. It was a bright, sunny Sunday morning. They always shopped then - avoiding the afternoon weekend crowds as people got ready for the work week ahead. It was a smaller store, but still a major chain. It wasn't tiny, just not a huge gourmet version like most of them these days. Her mind wandered again. Martha... could she? Her mouth went dry. She was halfway down the canned goods aisle when she heard the quiet, sing-song voice approaching. "Oh Angela..." she sang softly, "there you are..." Martha whispered playfully, catching her attention as she strode up the aisle toward her. Angela's heart skipped a beat, startled. The fact that Martha had shown up, had found her so quickly ... that wasn't surprising. Everyone who lived in this small suburban neighborhood came here. Martha lived nearby. It was ideal... But she had JUST told her she'd talk later. Martha had probably been nearby when calling. No, it wasn't that she was there all of a sudden that startled her... her heart skipped a beat when she noticed someone walking with her, Martha beaming... whispering something into his ear as they approached... was that? Why? No way. From behind her, his voice almost made her fall over. "Hi Martha," Angela's husband said past her, smiling, reaching around as he came up behind her, dropping several meat packages into their cart. "Nice to see... Oh, Hi Johnny!" he grinned at his son's best friend, clapping him on the shoulder - a nice manly greeting. "What are..." he started. "I am dropping him off for Linda," Martha jumped in innocently, happily, smiling at Angela's husband, but turning to look knowingly into Angela's eyes, searching for a reaction. They knew that Martha was Johnny's therapist as well as Angela's. But... if Angela's husband ever found out how... about what... she had actually been 'helping' her with... no - that could not happen. Her heart pounded. "We did a quick make up appointment this morning, didn't we?" she said, smiling at Johnny, "I don't usually do anything but sleep in late on Sunday mornings," she laughed, "But Stan is out of town anyway, so... what the heck. It worked out for everyone," Martha said gently, turning briefly to Johnny, "But Linda and John are at church now, so I offered to bring him ho-" "Oh, we can take him home... can you wait a few minutes while we check out, Johnny?" his friend's father said, turning toward his wife - puzzled for a moment as he felt her tense lightly next to him, but thought nothing more about it. Angela smiled stiffly, shaking it off. But her heart was pounding. He must be able to hear it about to burst out of her chest. No way. Nope. She couldn't. Her mind raced. No way. Small talk... she heard it as if far away... Martha and her husband... talking about the awful pot holes in the neighborhood roads... parting ways... smiling. She couldn't breath. She had seen him look. Johnny. She saw his eyes... briefly lock with hers - giving nothing away. Maybe nothing was going on, she hoped for a moment... but... it was his flashing glance across her breasts... her blouse... lingering a moment too long as he turned to follow - that confirmed her fears. Her knees trembled, knowing his eyes were on her as she and her husband led the way to the checkout stand. Not Johnny... every movement she made... just walking ahead of him... felt exaggerated... she could feel his eyes on her... no! It had only ever been a fantasy! No way. ------- "Come on in, Angela," Martha said, smiling, leading her into the small office in the back of the old renovated house. "OH MY GOD, MARTHA!" Angela blurted out before she was even through the door, hissing quietly at Martha as her therapist held the door open for her, "WHAT WERE YOU DOIN-" She stopped abruptly. Johnny was sitting on the love seat in the little office. "MARTHA!" she turned to her, "I CAN'T... THIS CAN'T..." she managed, her voice rising... halting. But Martha cut her off. "Shhh.... Angela," she said gently, "He knows... about you..." she said gently. "It's OK..." she whispered. "It's OK..." Angela's eyes went wide, her heart pounding. "What do you -" she started to ask. Froze. She knew what she meant. She fought to keep from looking at him. This boy she had known since he was... well... born. "Angela, he was JUST watching..." she paused, "a small little part of your... video," Martha admitted gently, matter-of-factly, smiling sweetly. Johnny was still in shock. Watching Mrs. Morgan... who the young boy was that had been sitting next to her, he had no idea... sitting on THIS love seat... his hand under her shirt... oh my god. "He knows, Angela," she put her arm around her, seeing the mature woman looking a little wobbly, leaning in, warm and comforting, whispering in her ear so only she could hear, "The boy you have been fantasizing about..." she trailed, feeling Angela tremble, "Well... one of them, anyway," she teased ever so quietly, grinning at her... holding her up. Angela's breath raced. She felt a little light-headed. This was... dangerous. "You have nothing to worry about, Angela," she whispered, reaching up, gently turning the married woman's head to look at him, "Ask Mrs. Scott," she smiled, pausing. It took her a moment... for what Martha had said to register. Angela's head jerked to look at her, searching her eyes. Martha nodded, smiled gently. "I'll show you the video..." she whispered very quietly into her ear, trailing off. "So gentle... so nice..." she trailed off, smiling sweetly. His eyes met hers, Angela looked away. Looked back. "Johnny, I..." she tried to say. This was Johnny! Her best friend's son! Oh my god, her son's best friend! "Johnny this can't..." she tried, "we can't..." - but Martha brought her finger up, lightly touching her lips. "Shhhhh..." she whispered. "We don't have a lot of time today," she said, "Linda will be here shortly to pick him up." Angela tried to pull away, "MARTHA! OH MY GOD!" she started - "Johnny," Martha said, turning to him quickly, forcefully, "Tell Mrs. Morgan what you told me a few minutes ago," she demanded, locking eyes with him, her arm gently around Angela. Johnny flinched in his seat. He looked at Mrs. Morgan, at her eyes... questioning, unsure. The words stuck in his throat... he looked away. This was his best friend's mother! "Mrs. Morgan, I..." he blushed, choked up. If his mother ever found out... oh man. "Johnny, come here," Martha said firmly, motioning for him to rise... to stand in front of Angela. "You know Mrs. Morgan," Martha said sweetly, "she isn't going to bite?" she smiled playfully, "And she is NOT going to tell anyone... ever... what is said here today, are you Angela?" she smiled, turning to the married mother next to her, seeing her reluctance, her insecurity. Her agreement, her eyes locked on the boy in front of her. He had seen the video? It finally registered. Oh my god. The front door to the old house opened... closed. They all heard it. Angela stiffened. Linda was out there... waiting. If she ever knew... "Johnny," Martha said quietly, "we don't have much time," she repeated. She was so close, her presence so real in front of him. This wasn't a fantasy. He could see her breathing, her chest rise and fall, he could smell her. Her breasts... oh man... larger than Mrs. Scott's, they were so close to him - the familiar pull over cotton blouse - he knew this shirt... it accentuated the roundness, the fullness of her mature breasts - the lines of her bra hinted beneath, cupping them - the random folds in the pullover as it rode over them... they weren't huge... but they were full... oh how many times had he dreamed of them... tried to sneak peeks at her growing up? And there they were... right in front of him. He felt himself stir... his pants constrict. Oh man. The light coming through the nearly closed plantation blinds, the potted plant in the corner behind her. So real. THIS WAS NO FANTASY! Her presence was... intense. She swayed slightly as she stood there, nervous. He wanted to reach out... to touch them. Oh my god. He was going to get to TOUCH THEM! Eddie's mom! He wanted to... he felt himself getting hard... so hard... He jumped when Martha lightly grasped his wrist... guiding his hand up. Was she? Was this it? His knees almost gave out. Her breasts seemed so big... so real... so close. Martha gently pulled his hand upward... slowly... oh my god... his eyes half-closed, ready to feel it fill with her soft, full breast. Mrs. Morgan's breast! He... Was surprised. She held his wrist firmly, guiding him up... past her breasts... extending and placing one of his fingertips lightly on Mrs. Morgan's lips. The whole movement was awkward... he didn't know what she was trying to get him to do. He felt his friend's mother try to pull her head away, surprised also. But Martha gently placed a hand on the small of her back. "It's OK, Angela," she whispered, "Shhh..." she calmed her, Angela hesitated... letting his every so gentle, light touch linger on her softly painted lips... unsure of what she was making him do. Her eyes focused on his... but his were looking at... his finger... "Tell her," Martha whispered to him, "tell her what you want to do first..." she urged him. Johnny was frozen, mesmerized. First! Oh man... the thoughts... his forearm brushed lightly against her right breast as Martha pushed them closer together. Angela jerked away a little at the touch, but he kept his finger there... gently following the curve of her lips. Her face so close. He could see the small lines in her skin, the light makeup covering its otherwise smoothness. The familiar bangs of her shoulder-length, blondish, well-styled hair framing her eyes. He had always thought she was pretty. She looked so professional. Classy, she always dressed so nicely. "Mrs. Morgan, I..." he tried again, blushing, averting his eyes now... searching around for Martha. "Mrs. Morgan," Martha whispered, taking control, "your son's best friend wants to cum in your mouth," she said softly, gently, playfully. Angela's eyes closed tight. She tried to pull away... but froze. She had wanted this for so long. They had talked about it. But now... his young cock was right down there... in front of her. Oh no. No no. This was happening too fast. "Look at it," Martha demanded softly. "He wants you to suck his hard, young cock," Martha whispered, her hand gently resting on the front of his thigh, guiding her eyes. Angela tensed. This was... Linda was... oh my god... hearing the words... out loud... it was suddenly - frighteningly - real. It was wrong. She had known this was coming, but... "Oh Mrs. Morgan," Martha said gently in her sing-song, teasing voice, "Johnny wants to look into your eyes as you swallow his cum," Martha smiled sweetly, "watching those soft lips of yours take his young shaft deep into your mouth..." Angela's eyes now locked onto his pants... at the obvious bulge... "as he cums... down your throat..." she trailed off, smiling, stepping back to take in the sight of the two of them, "without your son knowing..." she whispered, "Of course Eddie will never know... no one will know," she teased. "Angela," she whispered, "he won't say a word, will you Johnny?" she whispered. "His teacher can vouch for him," she smiled, winking at her. Angela's eyes widened. Mrs. Scott - Mrs. Scott had recommended Martha... "We'll find a time soon... for you two to get... better acquainted..." she whispered, playfully looking at her. Angela was so nervous. "Shhh..." she whispered, "All in good time," she teased. "Johnny," she whispered to them both as she took his hand to lead him out to his mother, "Mrs. Morgan has fantasized about you too..." she smiled, "for a long, long time," she trailed off, "Haven't you, Mrs. Morgan?" ------- Linda felt nauseous as she entered her son's room. After what Mrs. Jones had told her, showed her, she hadn't been able sleep for the last few nights. If her husband ever found out, well... to say he would be upset was putting it as mildly as possible. And poor Mrs. Scott - she was such a loyal teacher... having to see that. She was so ashamed. But, she had to know... It was a sunny Friday morning - cold outside for this late in spring. The sun beaming in his window: bright, warm, happy - making a mockery of what she was doing. She was alone in the house. Working from home, or so she had told her boss. She couldn't work. She was so nervous. This was surreal, reaching under his rumpled flannel sheets... his bed a mess as usual... she didn't want to find it... half hoped he had taken it with him. Holding her breath. She almost jumped when her fingertips finally located his father's old laptop. "Turn it off NOW and go to sleep!" was the mantra shouted down the hall endlessly each night. He wouldn't be home until tomorrow sometime. He had asked to spend the night at some friend's house after school, and that was fine with her. She had not said much to him when he left this morning. Taking the laptop to her room... sitting on her bed... setting it next to her as she opened it slowly. She stared at the screen as it came alive. She didn't want to know. She had to know. Please let it be a silly thing, she thought... then, hesitating... she clicked the 'Administrator' icon...