Kasey's Confession Ch. 20

When I met with the therapist, who insisted I call her Karen, the first thing I noticed about her was she was wearing a rather short skirt. It wasn't anywhere near as short as the skirts I wore, but it was cut above the knee and when she sat down it rode midway up her thigh.

I also noticed that she had insanely beautiful legs. During our session it became very distracting as I attempted to discuss issues pertaining to my coma, my memory problems, and my struggles to come to terms with my sexuality, which I still could not define. I loved and desired women and sought a meaningful, loving and passionate relationship with one. More specifically I sought to be with Erica and hoped that she could accept me the way that I was, but I also feared that my overwhelming desire to be submissive to men and satisfy them sexually would prevent any such relationship from ever really happening.

That fear caused me to redirect my conversation with Karen. She was very attractive and had legs that were nearly as beautiful as Erica's and the idea of telling her I'd been with a number of men sexually triggered defensiveness inside of me. Talking about that with her meant removing any chance she would be attracted to me or interested in a relationship with me. Even though she was my therapist and it would be unprofessional of her to even consider such things, there was a part of me that automatically connected the two concepts. Letting a potential female mate know I was actively involved in pleasing men sexually set off a red light inside me that told me not to go there.

"I'm still putting my memories back together," I told her. "Some things have been easy, like remembering how to do my job and everything involved with that. Other things have come much slower, like the nature of my relationships with different people."

"Such as?"

"Well, such as how well I know certain people, like if this guy I work with is someone I'm just friendly with at work or if we hang around outside of work and if we just talk about sports and cars and guy things or if we talk about more personal things. It is hard to remember where those, um, boundaries are, I guess you could say."

"How about the sexual boundaries?" she asked.

"What do you mean? Like remembering if I've slept with a woman or just had a drink or two with her?"

"I mean the sexual boundaries with the men you work with and those you are friends with."

"You mean the women?"

"Okay, let's talk about that. I understand you recently had someone very close to you pass away."

"An ex-girlfriend," I said, finding myself automatically emphasizing the 'girl' part of the statement. "We'd been together for three years or so but it wasn't a very, how do you say, um, healthy relationship."

"And her death?"

"It was an accident, and I saw it happen, she was hit by a truck crossing the street."

"How did you react when you saw that?"

"I was angry, upset, and I guess I was really sad."

"Did you feel like you were responsible?"

"How so? I wasn't driving the truck..."

"That isn't what I mean. You said you were together for three years and split up."

"Breaking up with her didn't cause her to get hit by the truck. No I don't blame myself because of that. Well, according to some people I apparently used to say things like 'I wish she'd get hit by a truck' when I was upset with her or angry."

"So, you figured that was a coincidence and nothing more?"

"Well, not at first when someone told me I'd said that more than once. Then I figured, you know, no one can wish things to happen and then have them happen. I'm more angry about who it was that was driving the truck that hit her and why he didn't stop or anything. The thing is, I think I know who was behind it but I don't have any way to prove it."

"I see," she said. "Do you think you are maybe trying to resolve your anger and maybe, I know you said you don't feel responsible, but maybe you are trying to resolve your feelings of guilt and anger by putting a face on whoever the driver of the truck was?"

"It isn't like that," I said defensively. "I've had people come up to me and basically tell me they were responsible and then taunt me about it."

"Actual people?"

"Yes, actual people," I groaned. "Do you think I'm imagining people telling me they hit Lisa?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I'm just asking questions so I can better understand where you are right now," she said. "Why do you think you are attracted to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just a question. Every time you answer a question or talk about something, you start by looking straight at me, but after a couple seconds you start staring at my legs."

"Well, you have beautiful legs," I said and folded my arms in front of me. "I have a thing for women's legs and yours are very distracting."

"Now you're being honest with me, and that's good. So, you're not so much attracted to me as you are to my legs? Or is it that you see me as an authority figure, someone you feel you are putting yourself into a vulnerable position with if you open yourself up to?"

"I find you very attractive," I told her. "I really like women a lot, I'm very big into women, and I date women all the time. I probably date too many women and sleep with too many women and I should probably not see so many women all the time because I'm just so crazy about women and..."

"Do you think it is at all unusual that you felt the need to say 'women' so often when you made that statement?"

"I didn't... I mean, maybe a couple times..."

"Let me ask you something, and this is just a hypothetical question, not any kind of invitation. Let's say it was possible for us to become involved sexually, which it isn't, but say I offered you a choice of two options. The first would be that we went to a very nice hotel room, ordered room service, and then made love. The second choice would involve you kneeling in front of me, licking the bottom of my shoe and saying 'yes, ms. Karen' to me. Which option would appeal to you more?"

I coughed and sputtered as I tried to answer the question, attempting to laugh off the question and tell her "the first option, of course' but finding myself unable to lie to such an extent. The second option was much more appealing to me, but I didn't want to admit it.

"The second option, then," she said calmly after seeing my reaction. "That isn't wrong. There are no wrong choices, Keith. Do you think you try to convince people you are a certain way because you feel that your sexual needs make you some kind of deviant?"

"You mean because I sleep with so many women?" I asked after collecting myself, once again emphasizing the word 'women' in my response.

"You can lie to me and put on the mask you wear in front of others, but then why are you seeing me, Keith? I'm not someone you are trying to romance or seduce. This is a professional relationship and I am a sex therapist. You were referred to me because Dr. Duckworth feels you have some very deeply repressed feelings, desires and fetishes that you are refusing to admit to yourself or deal with. If you just want to play around and put on this whole 'I'm a man and I sleep with a lot of women' façade, we're not going to get anywhere and you are wasting my time as well as yours."

I looked at the floor and nodded. "I'm sorry," I said.

"There is no reason to be sorry. I am not here to judge you or tell you what you feel is wrong. That isn't what I do. What I do is try to help you to understand yourself better so that you can hopefully live a happier and more positive life. You need to stop thinking of me as a woman you are trying to pick up in a bar."

"If you asked me to," I said as I looked up at Karen, "I would lick the bottom of your shoe without hesitation."

"I'm not going to ask you to," she said with a smile. "The reason I'm smiling is because you are starting to be honest with me and not lie to try to impress me. That's progress."

"I've been sexually submissive with men," I said after taking a deep breath. "I don't know how many men I was with before my coma, but since I came out of it I have been with three men, including one early this morning that I invited to my apartment and gave oral sex to while on my knees. That's what I've been trying to keep a secret."

"And if it wasn't a secret?"

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"This session isn't about me, Keith. Are you trying to avoid the question?"

"No, I'm asking because it is important as far as understanding why I do what I do."

"I'm not saying I will answer your question, but you can ask."

"When you wear a skirt like you're wearing and someone like me keeps looking at and admiring your legs, how does that make you feel?"

"Well, I would say that wearing short skirts the way I do indicates that I have a certain level of confidence in how I look in them, and that it probably indicates that I want people to notice the way I look in them."

"I'm told I have very nice legs. I don't mean for a man, I mean relative to how a woman looks in a skirt or shorts. I shave my legs, I keep them tan and in shape, and I like to wear short skirts and short shorts and high heels and so forth. I like when men notice. I like the effect I have on men when I am dressed that way. I also feel a compulsion to satisfy them sexually when they become aroused by how I look when I am dressed that way."

"Did this start after you came out of your coma, or has it been part of your identity before that?"

"That is something that bothers me. Apparently I've been doing this for some time, as in dressing like a woman and meeting men. I have seen videos and photographs of myself, um, performing oral sex on men while in a skirt and heels. The thing is, I don't remember any of it, but the evidence is everywhere. At the same time, when I was in that coma, it was as if I was in another world similar to this one but in it I was extremely sexual and submissive and it reached the point where I had nothing in my life outside of being dressed and submitting to men."

"Is this a fear of yours? Losing control of this aspect of who you are to the point where it takes over your life?"

"Yes, I think that might be the biggest issue I'm dealing with right now."

After the session, I went back to work. Tom was avoiding me, but eventually I got him alone in the break room and confronted him about why he had told Marci about our little get-together when he assured me it would be "our little secret."

"Look, I'm sorry," he said as he tried to get away from me, "Marci came to see me that night and she can be very persuasive. She kept asking me if I was sleeping with anyone else and kept pushing it until finally I said I wasn't sleeping with anyone else but I'd been to see you and you sucked my dick."

"She's crazy," I told him. "Not just crazy but full on psycho. I'd stay away from her if you want to keep your brain in one piece."

"Yeah, well, it takes one to know one," he snapped and stormed out of the break room.

I was upset when I went back to my desk, trying to get perspective on how I'd made the mistake of trusting Tom and how he'd turned around and told Marci about how I'd dressed up for him and given him head.

Then another co-worker, Tony, who I remembered well from watching the video of the Halloween party countless times, came up to my desk. I remembered him well because he'd had the biggest cock of the six men I'd gone down on and could not stop thinking about it anytime I walked past him.

"Everything okay?" he asked me. "You seem upset."

"I'm fine," I lied. "I'm just dealing with a lot of bullshit right now and trying not to think about it."

"People can be really cruel sometimes, especially if you're different or do things they don't think are normal," he said calmly. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm available."

"Well, I don't want to talk about it here," I said as two people walked past my cubicle. "Would you be interested in coming by my place later on tonight?"

I was being bold, as I appreciated Tony's efforts at being understanding but also wondered if maybe he was trying to see if he could wrangle a hook up with Kasey rather than simply trying to be a friend to Keith.

"I tell you what," Tony said after a moment as he waited for the area to clear of people, "I would love to come by your place later. We could talk, we could maybe have a beer or two, and maybe I could tell you how I wish you came to work in a skirt every day."

I tried to act incredulous, and then play his last remark off as a joke. "That's, um, funny. I needed a laugh, so thanks for that."

"You have great legs, Keith, it's a shame you can't show them off at work. That's all I'm saying and I'm not joking."

"Thanks," I said and blushed in response, looking down at my computer keyboard and trying to look busy but instead knocking several pens and a stapler onto the floor.

"So, if I were to come over later to talk and have a couple of beers, do you think you might be wearing a skirt and heels like, I dunno, you might wear at the office if you could?" Tony said with a wink.

"I... I... could do that," I stammered as I tried to collect myself, unable to think about anything other than Tony's big hard cock.

"Great," grinned Tony, "I'll see you around seven or so."

Keeping with Tony's theme of wearing a skirt to work, I dressed fairly modestly in a mid-thigh length black skirt, three-inch heels and a blouse that could pass for business casual. By the time seven o'clock rolled around I was chomping at the bit for a bit of "dressed for the office" role playing.

I also couldn't stop thinking about Tony's big cock, especially since I'd destroyed the tape and could no longer watch it for reference.

When the doorbell rang I checked first before opening. After I saw Tony's face I opened the door and was greeted with a surprise. Tony had brought along two of my other co-workers, Neil and Ted, who had also been on the infamous Halloween party tape.

"I didn't know... you were all..."

Standing there wearing a skirt and heels along with a woman's blouse, I suddenly felt out of sorts and overwhelmed. I found myself stuttering and flapping about and closed the door without first letting them in. Moments after I did that, a quiet knocking came from the other side.

"Keith, open the door. Come on, we came over to see you in that skirt and have some beers. Don't get all freaked out."

Tony was very calm, but I remained nervous even after opening the door and letting them in. I had considered quickly changing into pants and sneakers, but decided I needed to stop hiding.

When Tony told me he wished I could wear a skirt and heels to work every day, it put a picture in my imagination I could not erase. The idea of being able to go to work dressed like a girl and flirting and teasing the men I worked with gave me a great rush of excitement. Letting these three men, who had already experienced my cock sucking skills, see me as I was became an extension of the office fantasy.

"Come in," I said as I stepped aside. "Can I get you gentlemen a beer?"

"Sure thing," Neil said. "So, are we no longer playing Kasey the airhead cheerleader? Is it now Kasey the office suck pig?"

"Dude, that's harsh," said Tony.

"I don't mind," I confessed. "That's one I've never been called before, but I kind of like it."

After we all got our beers, Neil and Ted sat down on the couch, Tony sat on my recliner and I took a seat in my favorite chair. I crossed my legs slowly, attempting to be seductive as the skirt slide up my thigh as I lifted one leg above the other to cross it. I made certain the boys could see my thigh all the way up to my hip as I turned slightly to give them a better view.

"You really do have beautiful legs," Neil gasped after staring at my thigh while taking a long, slow drink from his beer bottle. "That shit is crazy. I mean, you honestly should be in a skirt at work."

"Thanks," I said with a smile. "If I could, I would."

"Why can't you?" Tony asked as he jumped forward. "I mean, there isn't any rule or any law against it. Really, Keith, everyone knows about the whole 'Kasey' business and everyone knows you love to suck cock. It isn't like you would shock anyone, really."

"You'd probably be in the men's room a half dozen times a day on your knees," laughed Neil. "Walking around with legs like that, I mean, you're practically screaming 'let me suck your dick'."

"I don't want it to be a secret," I said after taking a long drink of beer. "I want people knowing that when I am dressed, I am ready, willing, and able to suck some cock. I'm sick of sneaking around and playing games."

"Well, this is like a reunion, you know? Everyone from the party is here except Tom and your friend Jeff and Chris. Put on some tunes and get the fuck on your knees, Keith; time to suck some cock."

What I saw on the video hadn't been some drunken, out of control party where I'd done things I would later regret. It was me letting out a side of me I'd kept repressed and secret. It wasn't a nightmare. It was a dream come true, and now the dream was coming true again.

I was remembering now how I had started meeting men online and then meeting them out in the real world. I remembered how I had started secretly having men over to the house I lived in with Lisa and gave them head when Lisa wasn't home. I remembered how she had come to discover my secret and how she'd joined in, having threesomes with me and a man we'd found. It had all been a secret until the party when I revealed myself to my friends.

My passion for being sexually submissive to men began with Mike, a man I'd met online who told me I wanted more than to just dress up and flirt with men. I wanted to suck cock but I was terrified of the idea at the same time. He got me past that fear and helped me discover the joy I got from going down on men. I developed a passion for sucking cock and that eventually led to a passion for taking it up the ass.

I put on some dance music and made my way back to the middle of the living room where I looked at my three co-workers and smiled. I flirted with them, danced around a little bit, and decided Neil would be the first to get a blowjob.

I stood in front of him and slowly went down on my knees in front of him. While the others made remarks like "here we go again" and "now the party is starting" I reached up and unbuckled his belt. I unbuttoned his pants, unzipped his fly, and starting pulling down his pants while he sat up just enough to allow me to get them down.

There it was: my favorite thing in the world, a beautiful, fully erect cock.

No one was forcing me to do anything. I hadn't been drugged and no one had gotten me drunk or blackmailed me into this. As I put my hand around Neil's hard cock I felt a shiver go through my body. This was very simply what I wanted.

As I licked my way from Neil's balls up the shaft of his cock, I found myself smiling and giggling with excitement. I kissed my was around the head of his cock, at first with little pecks and then with big, wet kisses that left my saliva dripping down the sides of his beautiful erection.

I looked up at Neil and saw his head was tilted back. I could see Ted, who was on the couch just a couple feet away, watching me intently and taking a moment to adjust himself through his pants. Watching me start to give Neil head was arousing him and knowing that made me feel very sexy. I could also feel Tony's eyes watching me from behind.

"Suck that cock already," Tony said with a laugh. "Stop teasing the poor guy."

My tongue flicked at the underside of the head of Neil's cock as I opened my mouth and prepared to go down. I took my time, slowly moving my lips over and around the head and then over it, letting the head pop into my mouth before my lips slid slowly down the full length of his erection.