Sometimes complications can be an attraction. It may seem weird, but some people are drawn to people in trouble. I’m tempted to say this trait is more in women, but it seems some men are wired this way as well.
For women, it comes naturally, especially because we are nurturers. Women are in the business of caring.
We make it a responsibility to fix what’s broken. Whether it’s a broken object or a challenging situation, the urge to solve problems is common to women. Sometimes though, this broken object can be a person. In this case, it was.
Rotimi came to my place one evening and from the looks of him, it was obvious he wasn’t having a good day. Quickly, I entered my motivational speaker mode and started to counsel him about being positive and all.
It seemed like this was all the prompt he needed because he started to pour his heart out about some personal struggles, amidst a few tears. I could almost feel his frustration, but I resisted the urge to say so because no matter how similar someone’s situation is to yours, it hits differently for each person.
I may be able to feel a semblance of what the other person is feeling, but I can’t really feel what the person is feeling, even in the same situation. And so I rocked my big baby, laid his head on my chest and comforted him with soothing words.
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After a while, his breathing slowed and he seemed to ease into the embrace. I noticed that he wrapped his arms around me. Being the nurturer that I am, I undid the first few buttons of my blouse, brought out my breast and fed it to him.
He sucked like a child who had been missing his mother. I rubbed his head lightly as he sucked. He moaned softly. Now I know why it is said that breast sucking is therapeutic.
Because he was lying on the couch with his upper body on my thighs. It was easy to unbutton his pants without breaking the flow. I found my way to his already erect dick and massaged softly, concentrating on the very sensitive parts. I gave him a hand job that was slow and steady. Before long, his juice was dripping down my fingers.
He wasn’t done though. It only seemed like the boost that he needed. He got up, knelt down and dug his face between my legs. He ate me like he was eating a very delicious meal for the first time. I was trembling as I reached climax.
His beard was wet and slimy from my juice. He didn’t mind though. He carried me, facing him, he slipped his hard dick into my wet pussy. His strokes were deep as he lifted me up and down, his dick going in and out. Oh my, what a feeling.
After a few strokes, I felt myself cuming again. I held him tighter. Don’t hold back, come for daddy, he said. Of course, I didn’t hold back. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I came holding on to his neck like my life depended on it. Maybe it did.
He put me down, turned me around and gave me the most aggressive back shots I’ve had in a while, he then emptied himself in me.
Needless to say he felt better afterwards. We ate and talked some more about his issues and other general matters. Now he calls me his therapist. Who won’t want a therapist like me?
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