Message-ID: <17735eli$9812011741@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Celena Dieterich" Subject: Lust With a Side of Psychosis (MF cons) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: As always, comments are welcome. This story is archived along with all of my others at http://pages.whowhere.com/arts/minette_and_celena/index.html Copyright 1998 - SBDDF Productions. All rights reserved. PLEASE don't repost without permission or I will hunt you down, and it won't be pretty. Thanks. Some of you may know my under an AOL name, but let's just stick with this one for now, ok? ----------------------------------------------------------- "Did you go in for a blood level, Ivy?" "Yes, Doc." "Then why don't I have a report from the hospital labs?" he asked patiently. Ivy heaved a sigh. "I give up. Why?" "Ivy, Lithium can reach toxic levels in your bloodstream. You must be tested every three weeks to be certain your dosage is correct." "Oh, my dosage is just fine, Doc." Ivy assured him. She knew exactly where this discussion was going, but was avoiding telling her psyhciatrist that she hadn't been taking her lithium for about six weeks. Sure, it evened out her mood swings. But what if you're addicted to your own mood swings? What if you LIKE them? What if you don't WANT someone trying to FIX you? As Kurt Vonnegut had said, "I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center ." ".........back in the hospital, Ivy," Dr. Christians was saying. "Oh, no," the dark haired woman replied. "I told you I'm not going back there." "Look, Ivy," Dr. Christians replied, "I'll be forced to put you back into the hospital if you can't take your lithium and attend group sessions. Those were the terms of our agreement. Need I remind you that you are bound by terms you helped to choose?" "I'm TAKING my lithium," Ivy lied loudly. "And I'm going to group tonight. Ask those morons at the hospital lab what happened to my last blood level. I went in for it. I had to leave work early to get there. Check with my boss!" That much was true. Barry had let her out of the office early the other day, and he DID think she was going for medical tests. Never mind the fact that she had actually met Pete and fucked his brains out again. She knew Dr. Harold Christians would have a fit if he knew she was indulging in clandestine sexual activities with a married fellow manic-depressive from her group therapy sessions. She really hadn't been intending to carry on with Pete. When they'd first met in group, they'd discovered a mutual love of music, art and rhetoric. Pete had been incredibly entertained by her ability to remember great quotations. It hadn't hurt that her 38D breasts were nearly as beautiful as her big brown eyes. He had told her he loved her "deer-caught-in-the-headlights" look and desperately wanted to mow her down. For her own part, Ivy instantly fell in love with anyone who could make her laugh. It wouldn't have mattered if Pete had been 4 feet tall and weighed 400 pounds, she'd still have fucked him because he was an entertaining guy. Ivy always assumed that someone who was entertaining would also be a star in bed. She was frequently wrong, but that didn't stop her from trying. Fortunately for sexual kismet, Pete was quite tall and had brown curly hair about the same shade of brunette as her own, as well as being only very slightly overweight. His green eyes were brilliant in the institutional lighting. Before the first session began, he sidled up to her and whispered in her ear, "I think I've found true love." "True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen," Ivy responded quoting Francois De La Rochefoucauld. Pete laughed. "Accurate enough," he conceded. Ivy was annoyed by the group therapy sessions. The two earth-muffin, healy-feely psychotherapists who ran the operation were always trying to get her to express her feelings. Ivy had never had a problem expressing her feelings in her entire life. She had a hard time NOT expressing her feelings, in fact. She just didn't want to hear Frank, the overgrown bedwetter in the group, tell everyone for the 115th time that he'd been sexually abused as a child. She didn't want to hear the skinny chick whine about her crappy relationships. Why couldn't these people see that life would always make them somewhat miserable and JUST GET ON WITH IT! Most of the people in Sponer and Jerkins Thursday night group sessions were ordinary, garden-variety neurotics. While they had some incredible circumstances in their personal lives that required surmounting, they were not classifiable as psychotics. The two manic-depressives in the group, Pete and Ivy, didn't really belong there, but Sponer and Jerkins hadn't had a group of bi-polars to put them in at the time. Besides, bi-polars were difficult to manage in herds. As the group introduced themselves to one another during that first session, Ivy and Pete observed one another, recognizing one of their own kind almost instinctively. Frank told eveyone for the first time that he was neurotic as hell and had been sexually abused as a child. Janie, the scrawny one, whined about her boyfriend, but said little about herself. Poor thing, thought Ivy. She sees herself as nothing but a reflection of the man she's with. Gloria was a relatively ordinary middle-aged woman who had suffered a terrible breakdown after her husband of 10 years announced that he wanted a sex-change operation. Corinne was a stunning redhead who refused to say anything at all, and appeared to be quite depressed. Ivy imagined that if she were as drop-dead gorgeous as Corinne, she wouldn't have a damned thing in the world that would bother her, although she knew inherently that she was completely wrong. Then Pete took command of the room, telling everyone that he was a manic-depressive, taking depakote instead of the lithium that Ivy took, and that he was a third-year med-school dropout working as some idiot's assistant in a big corporate office to support his wife and three kids. (Ivy would later find out that Pete's wife came from a very wealthy family, and that they didn't really require the money he made. He worked to feel useful, he told her.) His manic episodes, he told the group, had landed him twice in jail, thrice in the hospital, and always managed to get him laid. When it was Ivy's turn, she smiled that Mona Lisa sort of smile that many manic-depressives have. She told them quietly that she played flute with the local symphony and gave them one of her favorite George Santayana quotes: "Music is esentially useless, as is life." She told the group that she was a "Lithiumite from WAY back," which Sponer later clarified for the others. She also regaled them with a rather gothic description of her last suicide attempt a few years previous. Pete had grinned knowingly at her and winked when she explained that all she'd really wanted was to make them play Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" at her funeral. She almost laughed when Pete winked. During the second session, Pete and Ivy very deliberately seated themselves next to one another. "God, I dread listening to another evening of crap," Pete complained to her underneath his breath. "As Jean-Paul Sartre said, 'Hell is other people'," Ivy responded in a whisper. Sponer began his usual heart-warming meditation which began all their sessions, and Ivy leaned over and told Pete, "You know, I'd really be interested in seeing you naked." "That's because you're a nympho," he whispered back. "All you manic-depressives are horny as hell." "Heh-heh," she chuckled wickedly, "you oughta know." "Oh, believe me, I do," he said. "And I'll be glad to show you after this session." Ivy knew she was behaving badly. Ivy was famous for behaving badly during her manic phases. She knew Pete was, too. It was part of the package. As the group was breaking up for the evening, Carl Jerkins took Ivy aside. "You know, Ivy, I really think you're doing well in this group." "I'm beginning to think I'm doing INCREDIBLY well, Doc," she said with a chuckle, eyeing Pete's ass as he left the room. Ivy caught up with Pete before he got to the elevators. "Leaving so soon?" she asked him. With lightening speed, Pete pressed her back toward the wall opposite the elevator, grabbed her ass, and pulled it toward his own hips. "No, I was hoping to press you up against the wall and feel your breasts while Jerkins and Sponer watched, but it looked like Jerkins was going to get to you first. But I'll bet my cock is bigger than his, so it's a good thing you came after me." He was sliding his hands up into her sweater as he spoke. Ivy giggled. "Oh, I'm fairly sure it is, if that item pressing against my thigh is any indication. Unless you're just packing a salami. And if that's the case, I'm ready for a snack." Pete chuckled, biting her neck a little as he squeezed her nipples. "So it isn't going to bother you that I have a wife and children? Because I AM in love with you." "Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; and confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished," Ivy quoted to him, breathing hard and fast. "Goethe! My favorite!," he replied exultantly. "So let's fuck." Ivy leaned her head back, enjoying his nibbles on her tender neck. "Well, OK. But I thought you'd be in love with that gorgeous Corinne," she told him. She was hoping he would lie to her, and tell her she was far more beautiful. "Oh, she's hot alright," Pete said as his fingers pulled on her left nipple and Ivy's knees went a bit weak. "But you ooze sexuality. You need to be fucked. I can tell." "True enough, Pete," Ivy said easily, with a giggle. She reached up and pulled his head down so that she could get her mouth against his, sucking hard on his tongue when she managed to lure it into her mouth. ".....for the next session," Sponer's voice was saying as the door to the the therapist's offices opened. In a slight panic, Ivy pushed Pete back and pulled her sweater down. She couldn't have the two psychotherapists catching her and telling their supervising M.D. Dr. Christians would NOT approve, she was fairly certain. Besides, anything even slightly risky always pleased Ivy immensely. She needed risk to feel alive. Pete smiled widely as he punched the elevator button. "Damned thing seems slow tonight, doesn't it," he said conversationally to her as the therapists emerged from their office. "Yes. Yes, it does. I'm in the mood for something MUCH faster," Ivy replied. The two potential lovers stepped into the next available elevator and looked at one another, waiting to see if Sponer and Jerkins would be joining them. "Should we hold this for you?" Ivy called out to them as Pete stepped to the back of the elevator and got behind Ivy, pressing his cock against her ass from behind. "No, we'll catch the next one," Sponer called back as the doors slid shut. "Oh, good," Pete sighed as he pressed himself along Ivy's back and cupped her breasts. She wiggled her hips back against him and pushed the L for Lobby button. "So shall I just fuck the daylights out of you in the parking garage, or do you want to go back to my place?" Ivy asked Pete. "You shouldn't have strange men in your home, little girl!" Pete admonished her. "True, and you DO seem pretty strange," she agreed. "And I was once warned by a very good friend that I should never sleep with anyone crazier than myself." "You know, I've had the same warning. But I won't know if I'm any crazier than you are until AFTER I've made you cum four or five times. I think it's important to make a lady come several times before I release my load," Pete replied as the elevator lurched to a halt. " 'I only require three things of a man. He must be handsome, ruthless and stupid,' " Ivy quoted with a gleam in her eye and then muttered, "Dorothy Parker said that." She took Pete's hand and pulled him toward her car. "Wait, wait," he said, "I should follow you in my car so that you don't have to bring me back here." Ivy readily agreed with him, and they got into their separate vehicles. She spied Pete's truck behind her as she drove her little blue Miata out of the parking garage, blaring Beethoven. She wondered briefly if this would become one of her more enduring affairs or merely a good solid distraction. Pete was adorable, but hadn't really said much to her other than propositioning her. Not that this was a problem for Ivy. She loved a man who knew what he wanted. She knew that even if Pete were a boorish idiot, she'd be hopelessly in love in no time at all, especially if he was any good in bed. It was the way she was. Ivy pulled up in front of her little condo and was about to slide out of her car when she decided to remove her underwear. Quickly, she pulled her short denim skirt up and slid her blue satin panties down, wadding them into her fist and getting out of the car. As Pete followed her up the walk eyeing her ass, she casually tossed them over her shoulder at him. He caught them neatly, laughing. "Ummmmmm.......Ivy," Pete said as he looked around her condo, "It doesn't look like you live alone here." "My husband has taken our son and gone to visit his parents for Thanksgiving. He knows I abhor them," she said easily. "You didn't say a word about marriage," Pete reminded her. "You didn't say you had kids or anything!" "What? You have a sudden case of gender loyalty and hypocrisy combined?" she retorted. "It's OK for YOU to be cheating, but not me?" "No, no, no," Pete said quickly. "You can cheat. Especially with me! I just didn't know that much about you, I suppose." " 'The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.' Cyril Connolly," Ivy laughed and dropped her coat beside the door. She was a notoriously crappy housekeeper. "But you know enough to know that I want to see you naked, right?" Pete chuckled as he threw his own jacket into the corner with hers. He quickly began began to peel off his clothes. "Oh, I'll be happy to let you see me naked, Ivy. You just have to reciprocate." "Well, I thought we'd at least move out of the foyer first, but whatever," Ivy said amiably and she began to shuck her skirt and sweater. "Gee, and I'd dressed so nice just to impress you," Pete teased her as his Dockers fell to the floor. " 'One should never put on one's best trousers to go out to battle for freedom and truth' ," Ivy replied, "although I suppose adultery still isn't what Ibsen had in mind when he said that." Ivy was releasing her heavy breasts from the periwinkle satin bra she wore. "Let me help you with that," Pete said sliding his hands over her nipples as the bra dropped to the floor. At 6'1" Pete was quite a bit taller than Ivy's considerable 5'8", so his rigid cock pressed against her belly as he held her in his arms. His mouth was warm and sweet when he pressed his lips against hers. She wiggled slightly in his grasp, stroking the hair at the back of his neck as they kissed, tongues touching and retreating, then touching again. Pete ran his hands down her naked sides. Ivy's clit was throbbing in cadence with the little pushes Pete's cock made against her soft abdomen. "You're beautiful, Ivy," Pete whispered into her left ear as he kissed his way around it. Ivy shivered with delight, knowing that she allowed this sort of validation to have far too much importantance to her. Ivy loved men and sex, for the sheer pleasure of the act, of having a different cock suck deep in her pussy. She moaned slightly trailing her fingers down his spine to feel that gorgeous ass she'd been admiring. For his own part, Pete was glad to have found someone as horny as he was, especially someone who was likely to understand how his mildly warped mind worked. Ivy was less likely to be miffed when he disappeared for days at a shot because he was willing to bet that she did it, too. She had nice tits, and she didn't seem to take everything as seriously as his wife did. Why did everything come down to a comparison of the spouse to the lover? And why did he stay married if the spouse was always found lacking? For the same reasons Ivy did. Because it was there. It was what she'd committed to. It was also a safe haven from the rest of the world, even if it sucked. It was a hassle to divorce. Besides, then she wouldn't have that forbidden thrill of cheating if she left her husband. That was half the fun. Ivy removed her hand from Pete's ass and reached between them. She dipped a finger in her pussy, and brought it out to touch Pete's lips. "I want you to eat me, Pete," she told him. Now here was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to tell her lover. Pete caught the tip of her finger between his teeth and licked at it the way he would her clit, making Ivy squirm with delight. She pulled away from his embrace and took him into the bedroom. "Sorry. Haven't made the bed since 1988," she mumbled as she flopped on her back and spread her legs for him. "Come here, Pete." Ivy felt that oral sex was a measure for all men. A halfway decent man would graciously dive right in. A truly great man would tease her a bit and then enjoy her fruits with gusto. She sincerely hoped Pete turned out to be the latter, but she'd been disappointed by some very nice guys before. Pete knelt between her thighs and stroked her labia softly, barely touching it. There was a thin line of hair at the mound, and the rest was shaven smooth. Ivy was delighted and let out an appreciative little "Mmmmmmm," as he brushed his hand down her oozing crotch. He spread her nether lips and examined her pussy thoroughly, reminding her that he HAD been a med student and knew a good one when he saw it. She laughed even as she squirmed in anticipation. Her breathing was growing ragged, and her eyes were half-closed. Pete loved having a woman at his sexual mercy this way. He loved turning her on, loved the way she sighed when he dragged his finger down her slit. He leaned over and lightly licked each of her nipples in turn as he slid two fingers into her pussy. It was wet and tight. The feeling made his cock ache for release. He was dying to drive himself all the way into that little hole and fuck her until she screamed. He kissed a wet line down her rounded belly to her mound. He removed the two fingers he'd been slowly stroking inside of her and spread her cunt wide open. He looked up into her eyes for a few seconds as she whimpered incoherently and then he licked her from her perineum all the way up to her hard little clit. He dragged his tongue slowly back down again and then up. Ivy's hips began to move in rhythm with his licks and she was moaning loudly now. She groaned when he sunk his fingers back inside her cunt and began to circle her clit with his tongue. His lips sucked around the tiny knob of her clit while his tongue gently flicked it. He could feel her pussy tightening around his fingers and increased the tempo and force of his tongue. She was grinding her hips against him, clutching handfuls of the rumpled bedsheets and moaning as she began to cum in spasms. "Yes......oh......GOD, yes," she groaned. "Don't stop." He didn't. He gently brought her down from her first climax and pulled his fingers free. Before she had a chance to relax, he was on his knees, rubbing the head of his cock all over her eager slit. Slowly, he began to slide his cock into her cunt. "You're so tight," he sighed happily as he began stroking back and forth inside her. Ivy reached down his back to grab him by the back of his thighs and pull him forcefully into her waiting pussy. Pete had a long, thick cock that rivalled most she'd seen. It was perfect, and she was grateful after all that she'd gone to group that night. She pulled tightly on his cock with her muscles. Every time he pulled back, she tightened down, as though she was afraid he'd pull his cock out of her. Pete's eyes were now the ones half-closed in ecstacy as Ivy's hips rose to meet his. Ivy knew she was going to lose control again soon. "Ah....I'm.....ung.....gonna cum....Pete," she moaned. Pete thrust himself hard and fast into her pussy and began to pound her cunt, fucking her hard, so that her next orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks and she was groaning loudly, almost screaming. With a loud groan, Pete felt his own jism rising and knew he was about to pour it into her pussy. He had a vision of his white-hot cum splashing across her cervix as he thrust his cock into her. She was clutching his ass and writhing with pleasure. As their orgasms subsided, Pete was suddenly overcome with an urge to be practical. "Ivy," he said rolling off her and holding her in his arms, "you're not going to whack out on me, are you?" Ivy laughed raucously, enough to make Pete a little nervous. When she got herself under control, she said, "You're a manic-depressive, too, Pete. Can YOU be trusted not to whack out? Do you have any idea how funny it was for you to have said that?" "So very true," Pete agreed with a self-deprecating chuckle. "But you know what I mean." "Can I be trusted not to tell your wife? Can I be trusted not to run to a lawyer?" Ivy asked. "Oooooh, yeah. As Lord Chesterfield said of sex, 'the pleasure is momentry, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable.' Yes, you can trust me not to blackmail you. And I'm going to assume that the same is true of you, Pete." Pete heaved a sigh of relief. "I stil can't tell which one of us is crazier. I need to make you cum a few more times." Ivy giggled. "OK," she said easily, knowing that a beautiful affair was underway. *********************************** chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickclick.com http://www.chickmail.com *********************************** -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----