The Sinner

CHAPTER 8

AMY

I didn't want to tell Mandy yet how my therapy was going. I mean, how was I going to tell her that my therapist was a man I had f*cked in the bathroom a week ago?

I honestly didn't know if I could handle the issues that would come with having therapy sessions with Pete. He was meant to help me stop my obsession with s*x, but instead he was the one who was fueling this feeling in me. I couldn't stop thinking about him and what we did in the restroom that day.

How can a man that could f*ck like that help me? I was going to ask Mandy to change him or, better still, leave me the way I was. My uncontrollable s****l urges shouldn't be anyone's problem, should it?

Anyway, I had people who were always willing to f*ck me and help me calm down whenever I can't help myself. I turned to face the ceiling of my room, it was getting a little bit hot here.

I couldn't help but begin to have that feeling again, and it always happened when I thought about Pete Stone. What the f*ck has he done to me?

Yes, I was a s*x freak, but not like this. I mean I just had s*x with Professor Smith hours ago, why are the urges coming back again?

I turned sideways on the bed.

Oh God.

I decided to read, so I could stop the thoughts from creeping its way into my head again. Since I wasn't going to be continuing the therapy, I'd better start helping myself, I thought. I opened my statistics textbook but all I could see was the s*x I had with Professor Smith in his office this afternoon, only that this time it wasn't with Professor Smith but my therapist, Pete.

I couldn't help it anymore. I inserted my fingers into my panties and rubbed my fingers slowly and softly on my c**t, teasing it. It felt so good. Then suddenly I heard a knock on my door.

“Amy? Are you asleep? I would like to talk to you.” His hoarse voice cut through my moans. “Is something wrong?”

I used my hands to close my mouth as I thrust my hands harder into my c**t, rubbing it vigorously, and soon I reached orgasm.

“Dad, is it important?” I asked, upset that he was interrupting my sessions.

“Yes, it is. Please open the door,” he said from the other side.

My room was a mess and I couldn't believe it myself, so I quickly put things in order. “Oh… okay… I'm in the bathroom, give me some time.”

“I'm waiting,” he said, and I scoffed. My Dad had the worst timing for real. I couldn't do much to my room because it was beyond quick arrangement at this point. I just picked up my clothes on the floor and arranged my books that had fallen for weeks.

I opened the door and showed him to the only seat in the room. I wondered why he wanted to see me when I had just had dinner with him like an hour ago.

“Wow. You room…”

“No comment, Dad.” I said, staring at him. I didn't need him judging me and making me feel like I could never make a good wife.

“Okay.” He nodded, taking the seat I had offered him. “I know you are busy, and I'm really sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to speak to you about Sandra.”

I wondered what more he wanted to talk about. I mean he had already introduced me to her, and she seemed like a good enough person for him.

“Why? What happened?”

“No. Nothing happened. I just wanted to hear your honest review about Sandra. I know you told me that I could go ahead and get married to her and all that, but I just wanted to be sure you weren't trying to be nice and that you really meant what you said.” My Dad was now staring at me.

“I did, Dad. You don't have to worry about that. I'm comfortable with you getting married. Actually, I think it is long overdue,” I said. Since my bed was closer, I sat down facing him. It was probably time for us to have this conversation.

Since mum died, there has been this emptiness in our hearts that needed to be filled. At first, I didn't expect my dad to get married to anyone, but then it's been 6 years since then and, since he had someone in mind, I was willing to support him.

“Do you love her?” I asked him. At this point, that was all that mattered. “Do you think that she'll make a good wife for you?”

“You..”

“I'm asking you what you want, Dad. It's time you start making decisions because it's what you want and not because it would suit me. I'm no longer a baby anymore.” I was surprised at the way I spoke.

When did I get this wise?

“Look at you giving your dad some advice. You've grown to be a smart young woman and one day you'll get married to the man of your dreams too.”

This was the first time Dad was talking about me getting married and to my own man too. I didn't know about marriage but I was sure to find my dream man, someone who was afraid to satisfy my urges whenever and however.

That was my dream man.

The only person who came to mind was Pete. He was probably my dream mind, but I would never get married to him. Marriage was just like a rat race, and I wasn't ready for it and would never be. I just wanted my freedom so that all my s****l fantasies would come through.

“Don't worry about me. I just want you to be happy.” I smiled, hugging him.

“I am going to meet Sandra's family on Sunday, and I'd love you to come too,” He said, holding me in his arms. I nodded, enjoying the warmth that I felt. “I hope you'll be free.”

“I'll go with you, dad.”

When he left, I stared after him. He probably didn't know I had a problem.