(This is a fantasy within my fantasy. I only WISH something like this would happen. I have not talked with any therapists).
I had been seeing my therapist now for about a year...every week, for an hour. Why? Because this fantasy / fetish of mine is driving me crazy, and I cannot be rid of it. Why be rid of it? Because for the life of me I cannot find a woman to indulge, much less tolerate it. Not for years now. And the urges have not abated. So perhaps if I can find out the source, the urges will subside. So far, not so much. . .
Short of regressive therapy, we've tried a lot of avenues. And, the fact that my therapist is a very beautiful woman, is NOT helping. In fact, I am beginning to think something is afoot here.
The last session we had, she had worn very soft clothing, including a silk blouse. . and a very soft bra. It was distracting. I tried to ignore her, and concentrate on the issue at hand, but it was very difficult.
Today, she again wore something that was very distracting...a light blue patterned silk dress. . this was going to be a rough session....
"Hello Roger...how are you today?", she asked.
"I'm doing okay.... thanks. . .nice dress" (damn, that just slipped out).. She smiles, looks down demurely....we both take our seats, me directly across from her. I notice she's wearing what appears a blue slip....about an inch of lace and a little blue of the material peek out from her dress. . . I begin to "stir" down there. . . .
"So..... today I want to explore some of the attraction mechanisms that work within the fetish.....What is it, do you think, that drives the fetish....?"
"Well, I don't know for sure. But I think it has to do with how attracted I am to the type of woman who is extremely feminine. A lot of women nowadays are not feminine, in the "old sense" of the word."
"Explain a little further....please", she says..
"Okay. . . well....I love to see a woman wearing feminine clothing...soft clothing. . .especially silks, satins, flowing materials. Clothing that accentuates her woman-ness. Kind of like, .....well.... the dress you are wearing, and the lingerie."
"My lingerie? How do you know what kind of lingerie I'm wearing?" She's looking at me differently now. Not so clinically, but with a more personal interest....
"I can see... I mean, I noticed your slip..... I can see the lace and some of the slip (swallowing hard. . )"
She smiled at me. (what?) And then she raises the hem of her dress just about 2 inches, exposing more of the slip...
"Well, yes.... I guess it's obvious", she says. "You like my slip?" (Sweet Jesus....)
"Yes. Of course. You know I do. It's why I'm here. I have a fetish for. . . . well....you KNOW...."
"Of course", she says. But makes no move to lower her dress.
"So, what about the ironing? Why do you think you find a woman ironing silks so. . . . . . intoxicating to you?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it has something to do with watching my mother as she ironed.... or the housekeeper we had growing up. . . something happened with her, and me, that had to do with her ironing. . . I'm just not sure.... I don't have any real memory. . . just an idea."
"Perhaps if we recreate some of the memories, things will become more clear to you....."
(I am not quite sure I just heard her correctly. . )
"What do you mean re-create?" I inquire.
"I mean......If I were to iron some silks for you,...while you watched me, it might bring to mind the incident or incidents that brought all of this to bear"....
"You know that might not be a good idea. . . you know the rest of the fantasy..... "
"Yes, I know. . but this would be in a controlled environment, more like a clincal experiment". . .
(I can NOT believe what I am hearing. . this CAN'T be legit)
"Come in to my other office", she said, rising, taking my hand. She led me to a door that opened to another room. Opening the door, my knees went a little weak. .......
Before me was 'the setup'. Ironing board, iron on it's heel, plugged into a wall outlet. On a couch across from the board lay several items of clothing. Very feminine. Very soft looking...
"Have a seat on the couch, there, next to my silks..."
"Now, explain to me the particulars of your fetish. . I want to get it exactly right, so we can examine all aspects, and perhaps find some reasons behind it...."
(Holy shit. This could NOT be happening. She was NOT actually thinking this could be truly clinical. . .I think she was actually curious. . or........ interested in the fantasy?)
"Okay,' I said.."...The mere act of a woman setting up to iron is erotic to me. Preparing the iron and board.....selecting the dress, or slip, or nightgown....... "
"What is your preference"...?
".....laying out the.....what?"
"What would you like to see me iron, today, right now?"
(She knew the buttons. She just pushed one...)
".....and that's part of it. Talking about the lingerie or clothing....you know that"....I said.
"Yes. I know. So? What shall it be? Pick something from the silks on the couch.."
(shithousemouse....okay, she asked for it).... I began to look at the lovely lingerie next to me. . . there were several slips, and teddies, a slip dress, and a couple of silk nightgowns. I ran the material of each through my hand..all silk. All butter smooth. And expensive.
I picked one of the nightgowns. It was long...probably floor length. Cream white. A little lace around the bodice..a diamond of lace beneath the breasts... beautiful. . .I held it out for her.....
"Bring it here to me, please". She said....holding out her hand...
I rose, and walked to the ironing board, handing the gown to her. I now had a full on erection. Crap.
"Well, you chose a very exquisite nightgown. Is that significant?"
"Yes.... It's obviously high quality silk. And very expensive. That's part of it for me as well. And the "identity" of the gown...."
"What do you mean, "identity"? she asks..
"The significance of the gown to "you"...the owner. Does she like the gown, does it mean something to you?"
"Well,' she says,' I do happen to love this particular nightgown. I love the way it feels against me when I wear it. The way it flows when I walk....." I had to sit down again,...my knees had grown weak again. . .
She held up the gown, allowing the full length of it to spread over the board, to the floor...it was beautiful.
"Now, while I ready my iron for the job at hand, please explain a little more of the attraction mechanism to me..", she said, as she slowly lay the gown out over the board, and reached the iron, turning the temperature dial just up from the " off" position. I could feel my heart begin to beat a little harder, as I watched her doing this..
"Well, then... I am attracted to the 'idea'. The idea of a beautiful woman...a soft, sensual woman, who enjoys fine feminine things doing something so antithetical as ironing her own clothing. And the 'idea' of ironing fine lingerie or silks. Its unheard of. One doesn't do that. (Well, some do..) And it's the 'visual'. Something about a pretty woman behind an ironing board. The sight of something as heavy and hard and unforgiving as the iron against something as fragile and delicate as silk. . .it's all in there, somehow. . "
"Ah, well that makes sense. A woman...so soft.... a man the opposite, hard and strong. (She was looking at my crotch...things were becoming very obvious) The silk, so soft and delicate, the iron..hard and unforgiving.... come closer to the ironing board, Roger", she said.
God she was so lovely in that silk dress. And her perfume...I have no idea what it is...but it's intoxicating...I moved to the board. My knees are Jello, but my cock is so hard a cat couldn't scratch it.....
She picks up the iron, and, very slowly lowers it to the nightgown, and begins to move it across it. I am, of course, transfixed.
"I paid attention to everything you have told me about this Roger....everything. And I have found that it enticed me. So much so that I wanted to become the woman in your fantasy, if for nothing else, the experience. And I can see the sensualness of it. The act of ironing something so exquisite is very tactile. I am enjoying this."
Now the aura of the room, of the scene unfolding has begun to take 'hold' of me. Not to mention I find this woman so very attractive.
"I want to see...", I stammer....
"What? What do you want to see?"
"The slip you are wearing....under your dress"
(Well, some lines have already been crossed here, so at this point I am throwing caution to the wind. I do not think this is merely an experiment anymore. . )
She stops moving the iron. . . . .just lets it sit there...and looks at me..... Smiling, and now a mischievous smile at that, she steps back a bit. (The iron is still just sitting on the gown. she undoes the top button of the dress in the back, and slides the zipper down..as the dress loosens, it slips down, and falls at her feet. She steps out of it. The slip is as soft and feminine as I imagined it would be. And I can see her nipples through the silk. Hard.
I move closer to the board, and she resumes ironing the gown. "Well?" she asks...
"What....?" I say, watching this beautiful woman in her slip, ironing her nightgown in front of ME...(unreal..)
"Is my slip what you thought it would be?"
"Oh, ah yes..its very pretty...", I manage to get out.
I want to touch her. Be close to her, feel her warmth through the silk..So I walk around behind her and place my hands on her hips. The slip is liquid smooth under my hands, and warm from her. Her hair smells of flowers or a shampoo that replicates the smell. I can't help myself, and move her dark hair from the nape of her neck. I bend a bit, and softly kiss her there. I think she shivered a little.
" That is not part of this exercise, Roger"...she admonishes me.."We must stay within the parameters of the exercise".
But she didn't push me away. In fact I think I felt her lean into me...
Now I moved my hands slowy up to her breasts...cupping them gently. They were heavy in my hands, and now she groaned softly as I kneeded them, finding the nipples hard under my touch. I kissed her neck again, trailing them to her shoulder where I found the thin satin strap of the slip, and pulled it off her shoulder with my teeth. I repeated this with the other side of her neck, and the other strap as well.
"W-what is the next step in the scenario...", she now whispered...
" The next step is that you continue to iron your nightgown..and at some point in the fantasy, you would begin to turn up the iron's temperature.... "
"A-and the dangerous part of the fantasy comes into play..", she says,softly... Again she stopped moving the iron, turned and looked at me, her face inches from mine. " How high do I turn it?"
"That depends", I say.."sometimes its in increments...others its halfway...it all depends...There are no set rules. What about today? Are there really rules here today.....?"
"No. Not now," she says, her lips right there, so close to mine,her body an inch from mine. I kiss her. Soft at first..then again, but deeper. She smells so good! So clean and "feminine"..her right hand goes to the iron, and stands it on its heel. Her left to the back of my neck and she pulls me tighter into the kiss. Our tongues caressing. . .
She breaks the kiss. . looking at me, again.
"I don't know what the hell just happened. Guess I just got caught up in this."
"It's fine. Really. We can stop this if you want to"....I whisper.
"No... please...Not yet. We haven't discovered anything about the origin of your fetish yet"........ she replies...
"Right now, I'm not into its origins... I'm into it, and you"....and with that, I kissed her again...this time reaching around and cupping her butt, pulling her tight against me..my hardness against her. She groaned into the kiss, moving against me... "Make me understand....", she whispered into my mouth, her breaths coming more rapidly now... I broke the kiss this time. I reached out with my left hand and moved the temperature dial up to between 'silk/nylon" and "cotton"...
Now I move her from the ironing board, toward the couch. The iron clicks softly as its temperature rises....I turn her to sit on the couch, and sit her down. Kneeling before her, I spread her legs. Reaching up her thighs with both hands I find, not surprisingly, that she is wearing actual stockings, with elastic garters holding them up..."my stockings. . .", she says. . ."you like them...?"
"Yes," I say as I slowly reach to her panties, which of course are real silk as well....(wonderful...she is simply wonderful..) I pull them down her legs and off. She is wet with desire...the panties are damp..I raise her legs over my shoulders and move my face close to her vulva. She exudes heat and sex. She begins to make soft mewing sounds, as I begin to kiss her mons. . . she scoots down on the couch, offering herself to me, opening her thighs more for me.
My tongue moves between her swollen lips, tasting her, little nibbles on her labia...again she mews softly...now she takes hold of my head and pulls me close into her...I find her hard nub between her lips...press my tongue to it. "Oh-h-h-h-yes-s-s-s-s"..., she hisses between clenched teeth....
Now I hungrily work at her pussy....(She tastes so good. . ) her lips swollen and hot, engorged with blood, her clit a hard nub under my tongue, she writhes against my mouth...I can feel the silky stockings against my ears as she begins to build toward a climax. "Unh, unh, uuunnnoooooo....", she groans and then as my tongue finds the hardness of her clit once again, I move my tongue hard against it, rapidly....She comes for me....the near-convulsion rippling through her..her pussy gripping my tongue. . .I grasp her hips with both hands...doubling my attention to the soft wetness under my mouth. I hunger for her flesh. I am in the midst of her femininity, literally deep into it. My tongue exploring, tasting enjoying every hidden fold of skin, touching every nerve-ending that is exposed to me... my hands now clutching at her breasts, squeezing them as if to drive her sexuality deep into her body, so that I may drink from it...my hands find the bodice of the slip and I hear the sound of rending material...
I look up at her...questioningly...."It's okay", she says..."Rip it if you want...tear it"...... and throws her head back as my efforts between her legs reward me with another pleasure-filled groan, and climax..... the slip gives way at the juncture of a seam as I pull at it...the silk threads parting...the sound of tearing material mingles with her groans of pleasure..."YES-s-s-s-! she whispers loudly as she begins to descend from the heights of her orgasm....
A minute or two passes. . . . she sits up on the couch a little, and I relax my grip on her torn lingerie. . . She grabs the slip dress from the couch next to her, and gently pushes me back, standing up. Breathing heavy still. . she reaches out to help me to my feet. She takes me back to the ironing board....making me stand beside her. She turns me to her, and, draping the slip-dress over the back of the ironing board, she begins undoing my pants. I kick off my shoes as she releases my zipper and the pants hit the floor. I kick them away. Next she pulls down my underwear, and as she does so, her face is within inches of my engorged cock. But she does not kiss or even graze me with her lips. . .I kick away the underwear as well, and then pull off my shirt. She reaches to the board and finds the silk slip dress....placing it on the board, on top of the nightgown already laying there. She picks up the iron and begins to move it over the dress. . .
"I seem to remember you like the feel of the warm silk against your cock....", and she lifts the iron to its heel, picks up the dress, and wraps my cock in the warmth. . . again my knees become weak. The warm silk envelops me...the feeling is beyond delicious...she moves the silk on me...slowly...stroking me ever so gently. . . "Iron for me...", I say to her. . .
She turns her attention to the ironing board and iron..she holds my cock in its silken glove, and picks up the iron with her free hand, lowering it to the dress before her. There is not attempt to actually iron any wrinkles out of the soft material on the board. This has become other than just ironing. She is moving the iron over her silks on the board as a sexual act, as she slowly strokes my cock....
"Do you like this part of it....?"
"Yes, oh. . . yes I do. . "
"This dress is a favorite of mine, as well as the nightgown", she nearly whispers, as she moves the iron up the dress..It's almost more of a slip, than a dress. Such soft and smooth silk material. Almost as smooth as the nightgown. . . "
"So, she says, "Your. . . your fetish..your fantasy....is doing what you did to me part of it?"
"Not always....but I couldn't help it", I say. . "you just....I mean the silk dress, the slip...how you smell...so soft and clean. . .I needed to touch you, taste you....like that". .
"What about tearing my slip like that...did you enjoy that?", she asks..
"It just happened"..... I say.
"But, did you like tearing it like that...?"
"Yes...well...yeah, in the heat of the moment like that.."
"So, I wonder,' she says, 'if we had "more heat".... you'd enjoy destroying a dress or a nightgown?"
All this time, she is moving the iron over her slip dress and nightgown on the board, and ever so slowly stroking me in the grip of her silk as well. . . I am really having difficulty maintaining my control... the lovely clothing on the ironing board is in no danger, but I am in danger of unloading everything into the silk I am enjoying around me. . .
"This is very sensual", she says..."I can feel the silk in my hand..around your cock....and I can feel the heat from the iron coming up off the lingerie....perhaps this is what you feel that spurs you on?"
"And....... of course......." I start to say....
"And, she interjects,' the possibility of ruining the lingerie or dress, by letting the iron sit too long in one spot, through inattention, or...... by design"...
"Yes", I say. "That's also a big part of it...."
"How big a part, Roger...?", she asks
"A major, integral part of the fetish", I say..
She stopped moving the iron, and removed her hand from it. Just letting it sit on her slip dress...
"Like this. . ", she says, still moving her hand on me....
"Jesus. . . yes....", I stammer. .
"The iron isn't very hot. . . and there's steam too... acting as a 'cushion' between the soleplate and the silk", she states..."So, I don't think my silks are in any danger...do you?"
"I - I - dunno". . . I'm getting close, though. . .
"I like the feeling", she says. . "The danger involved,....it's really a bit exciting..."
She reaches and picks up the iron from the dress. . . no damage.... just a very warm impression of the soleplate in the soft material. . . she picks up the hot silk, and replaces that which she held me in with it. . . it's nearly too hot to stand...on the verge of painful, but only for a second...I apparently jumped at the touch of the hot material. .
"Oh.... that's hot, huh?...The iron must have been hotter than I thought". . . feels okay now, though?", she asks...
"Yes, yeah. . . I'm so very close,... I, I....."
"We can't have that', she says, and releases me from her grasp. . ."Don't move now. Don't touch yourself, " she instructs...I do as she says, and my throbbing cock is now just a couple of inches from the ironing board's surface and the lingerie thereon. She again picks up the iron and now places it on her dress, but only an inch or two from my engorged member...."Can you feel that,...the heat"?, she asks...."Is that exciting as well?"..... (She HAS been paying attention to our sessions...)
"Yes. . . it feels. . . wonderful. . ", I get out.
"So, would you say that all this is sufficient to satisfy your fetish? If I make you climax now, would it be satisfactory?"
"Jesus. . .I can't think straight about it now!", I exclaim..
"You know the iron is getting that silk very hot, right there, next to your cock..I can wrap you in it again,and pull you off into it. . . . . or......"
"What....," I say. . . . "or what...."
"I can try one more thing to see if it bears out our experiment". . . .
"Please...", I nearly whimper.. .
"Okay, she says..." but no touching yourself".....
Now she reaches toward the iron, and turns off the steam function. .. . and removes her hand from the iron again. . .
She's just standing there, watching my penis pulse with the blood pumping through it, so very close to her iron, which is resting on two very expensive pieces of clothing. The iron is, perhaps now, too hot for the delicate silk...
"Do you think it's burning my dress?", she asks...
"I-I- don't know. . . "
"I think I can smell it. . . . I think it might be scorching my dress,Roger..."
She moves close to the iron, standing over it now. She reaches out with both hands and PUSHES THE IRON DOWN INTO THE SILK....I can't smell anything....other than her perfume..."Let's see', she says. . "let's see if my dress is alright. . ", she lifts the iron from the dress. . . no damage...a definite impression of the iron in the silk though. She places the iron on it's heel now, the soleplate mere inches from my cock... again she takes the hot silk and wraps me in it....I jump from the heat. It hurt a little, but soon settles into a fantastic silky warmth..."You felt that, didn't you?", she asks...
"Yeah. . really h-hot", I stammer. . .
Now she turns the temperature dial. From just below 'cotton'...past 'wool', past 'linen', to the "high" setting....
"It's really going to get hot now", she whispers to me...
The iron is clicking now....as the metal expands. The heating coils inside the soleplate nearly glowing with the amount of electricity coursing through them...
She walks around to my side of the ironing board, and still wearing her torn slip, faces the board. She bends forward just a little... her breast almost touching the iron on its heel...she slowly hikes the slip up...higher, and higher until its around her waist. Her wonderful ass bared to me.... I move from my spot at the board, and get behind her...pushing my cock against her soft skin. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I move my cock between her ass cheeks..sliding the head down until I feel her hot, and still slippery cunt...I slide in effortlessly...slowly...all the way, until I am buried deep within her...Her exhaled breath is low and guttural....
I begin to move inside her. . . .very slowly....
"Rip my slip again....," she says..."I want to hear it tear..."
I reach around the front of her, and grasping the torn bodice of the slip with both hands, I pull it apart. The torn seam gives way...ripping the front of the slip down the middle....and she comes.., I can feel her pussy grabbing at my cock as she does....several waves of climax ripple through her body, little cries escaping her through each one.. "Oh, gods. . ", she says. . . . "Burn them", she gasps..."burn my dress...and my gown...burn them"
I begin to move in her again, faster now.... I am unable to restrain myself from this. . . and I reach out for the iron, and pick it up from its heel.... I put the iron down, into the folds of the silk dress, on top of the nightgown. . . smoke comes up from around the irons' soleplate at once. . .We're fucking now..moving with each other, steadily building...
"Ohhh," she groans..."Noooooo,...my beautiful. . . . " she trails off. . .then..."Yes, ... burn them...let me see..."
It's all I can do not to come into her...I'm nearly there, my balls sucking up inside me in anticipation of exploding within her... I manage to put a hand on the iron again, moving it down into fresh silk...it leaves a dark smoking burn mark where it first touched her dress...the nightgown beneath the dress is burned as well...right through to the ironing board cover..I can smell the burning silk, as well as the cotton cover beneath it. "Un-h-h-h", comes from her...."Ohhh..ruined..destroyed...my. . . silks. . . ", she whimpers, and climaxes again....and this time I join her.. I cannot help myself, not anymore....this is all too much, too incredible. . the walls of her pussy grasp at my pulsing pumping cock, as I empty into her, her back arched in ecstatic pleasure as she climaxes...her hand grabs mine on the iron, as we are caught in the peak of the waves of climax...smoke rising from the burning lingerie under the iron. . .
As the climax subsides...we relax a bit. . . I stand up, my cock released from her grip, she stands straight again as well...But she is still "ironing" the silks...the iron moving across the cream white silk, a dark, smoking burn mark behind it as she moves it slowly...I stand there, transfixed anew, as she methodically destroys the slip dress, and then, moving it aside continues to burn the nightgown,...passing the too hot iron slowly over every untouched soft area of the gown, until the entire nightgown is burned, a dark brown color. The air is full of the smell of scorched silk, cotton, sex and her perfume. She stands the iron on its heel now, and turns it off. . She turns to me. Smiles, and kisses me tenderly. "I think I understand a little better now"...'but, I think we will need more sessions to fully uncover the reasons this is such a big part of your sexual need...."
I couldn't agree more.