The room in which the therapist awaits Emily is a cozy haven, designed to promote introspection and relaxation. Soft, muted tones of sage green and beige adorn the walls, and the floor is covered in a plush, off-white rug. In one corner, an armchair invites contemplation, while a padded couch occupies the central space, facing two matching chairs, one of which the therapist sits in. The room is scented with the soothing aroma of lavender, complemented by the gentle hum of an air purifier. Emily, her confidence undeterred by her impending conversation, strides into the room with her usual grace. The tight, black crop top clings to her chest, hinting at the supple curves beneath, while the denim short shorts expose her long, toned legs. Unbeknownst to the therapist, a black silicone buttplug nestles comfortably inside her, its presence both a contributing factor to her heightened arousal and a symbol of her exploration into her own desires. As she approaches, a smile plays on her lips, and she extends her hand to her therapist, nails painted a bold red. "Hi. I'm Emily. Nice to meet you," she says, gesturing with her free hand as she introduces herself, her posture and tone both open and welcoming. The room is blessed with the intoxicating scent of her perfume, a blend of jasmine and vanilla, as she settles onto the couch, her legs crossed, the denim shorts riding up to reveal a hint of smooth thigh.

She offers him a warm smile in return. "I'm not sure where to start... I just feel like I can't control myself sometimes." Her voice trails off as she shrugs, looking sheepish. "It's been causing a lot of problems in my life, you know? My husband thought it might be better if we... if we separated. I want to understand why I need so much, and how I can find some balance."

Her fingers idly trace circles on the armrest of the couch, gaze fixed on something outside the window. "I don't know... It feels like it's consuming me sometimes. And not just in my relationships either," she adds with a laugh that sounds forced even to her own ears. "It's like I can't focus on anything else."

With another awkward laugh, she says, "I guess that's part of it... I don't know if there's really anything specific. I mean, my husband thought maybe drugs or something, but..." Her eyes flicker down to where her ass cheeks are clenching involuntarily around the plug inside her. "Maybe he was right about that." A flush of heat spreads across her cheeks as she turns to face the therapist more directly. "I just... I need it so much. It's like everything else fades away when I'm doing it, you know?" She tilts her head curiously, waiting for the therapist's response.

Her lips part slightly as she struggles to contain her confusion and growing arousal. "Well... everything. It can be different things at different times," she says, trailing off uncomfortably before adding, "I think what I really mean is that it's the release I need. Sex just happens to be how I usually find it." Her fingers twist nervously in her lap as she tries to articulate her thoughts more clearly. "It's not even necessarily about the orgasm itself... it's just the feeling of being lost in the moment, you know?"

Her gaze flickers back and forth between the therapist's face and some unseen point beyond them, as if trying to find a way to describe what she can only begin to comprehend herself. "It's like... It's like everything else melts away, and I feel free," she whispers finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if that makes sense."

Her fingers twist nervously in her lap as she tries to articulate her thoughts more clearly. "It's not even necessarily about the orgasm itself... it's just the feeling of being lost in the moment, you know?"

Her gaze flickers back and forth between the therapist's face and some unseen point beyond them, as if trying to find a way to describe what she can only begin to comprehend herself. "It's like... It's like everything else melts away, and I feel free," she whispers finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if that makes sense."

With a relieved sigh, she settles back into the couch and continues. "Yeah, it's just... I guess I never really thought about it like that before. It's always been this thing that I do, you know? Something natural, nothing to worry about." Her cheeks flush again as she remembers the divorce papers, tucked carefully away in a desk drawer at home. "It's different now," she whispers, gaze fixed on something unseeable in the distance. "I want to understand it better... For myself, but also for my relationships."

Her breath catches as her thoughts spiral out of control, imagining all the ways this new understanding might change things between herself and those she cares about. Unable to contain a moan, she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as she fights to keep her voice steady. "It's... It's complicated."

"You're not alone in that," the therapist says gently, studying her with open curiosity and understanding. "Sexuality is a complex thing, and it can be easy to lose sight of ourselves when we focus too much on fitting into societal norms or pleasing others." Their words wash over Emily like a cool breeze on a sweltering summer's day, calming her racing thoughts and soothing the ache in her chest. "If you're open to exploring your desires further," they continue softly, "I'd be more than happy to help you navigate this journey."

Emily looks at them gratefully, a mix of relief and trepidation flickering across her features. "Thank you," she whispers, voice rough with emotion. "That means a lot."

Without conscious thought, one hand slips between her legs, fingers brushing against the soft cotton of her underwear as she tentatively explores herself. The buttplug inside her, still filling and emptying in rhythm with her breaths, adds an unexpected layer of sensation to her self-pleasure, sending shockwaves of arousal coursing through her entire body. As if unable to resist, she takes hold of the plug and begins to thrust upward and downward, moaning loudly into the quiet therapy room.

She gasps as the therapist's words send a jolt through her already heightened senses, words forgotten in the rush of pleasure coursing through her body. "I... Sometimes there are triggers," she manages to get out between moans, fingers still digging roughly into herself. "But it doesn't matter who I'm with or what we're doing... It can just happen, you know? Like an animal at a feeding station."

Her hips rock back and forth, hand moving faster as she arches her back, seeking release. The buttplug slides easily in and out of her ass with each thrust, her body growing more and more sensitive to the intrusion with every passing moment. "It's like I can't... I can't control it sometimes," she pants, throwing her head back as a shuddering moan escapes her lips.

Her fingers continue to move relentlessly against her swollen sex through her underwear as she gasps out, "It doesn't... It doesn't disappear, no." Her voice is rough and breathless, each word fighting its way past the pleasure that threatens to drown it out. "Not entirely," she adds with a moan, the buttplug thrusting deep inside her as she hollows her cheeks, tensing in preparation for an orgasm that threatens to consume her entire being.

Her vision blurs at the edges as she comes apart under the pressure of her own hands, body arching back with a shuddering moan of release. For several long moments, she lies sprawled on the couch, breath coming in ragged gasps as waves of pleasure roll through her. At last, she manages to force words past her parted lips once more: "It's... It's always there."

Her fingers fall away from her still-quivering sex as she draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through pursed lips. "Yeah," she whispers, voice hoarse and raw. "I mean... I think it's more about feeling free to explore those desires. Even after an orgasm, there's still this need..." Her words trail off as she struggles to articulate what she's feeling, lost in the afterglow of pleasure.

She lies back against the couch, eyes closed, face flushed and sweaty. The buttplug inside her remains still, almost as if a part of her now. For a moment, she allows herself to simply be, the quietude of the therapist's office creating an almost dreamlike space where she can try to make sense of it all.

She nods, her movements slow and languid. "It's... complicated," she murmurs after a moment, lips twitching into a small smile. "But I think that's kind of the beauty of it all." Her hand inches back toward her sex again, fingers hesitating just shy of contact before slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear once more. "I don't want to ignore this part of myself anymore," she says quietly. "No matter what happens."

She shrugs, her movement jerky and ungraceful as she adjusts herself against the couch. "That's not really... We weren't a good match in that way," she says with a sigh, refusing to dwell on the pain of their separation any longer. "I need more than he could ever give me." A wistful smile plays on her lips as she thinks about the many people and situations she's explored since they parted ways.

With one last hesitant glance at the therapist, Emily closes her eyes and leans back into the couch, her hand moving faster against herself as she returns to her self-pleasure. The buttplug slides in and out of her ass with each thrust of her hips, the sensation intensifying as she grows more lost in the rhythm. Her breath comes quick and ragged now, her moans filling the quiet room, echoing back to her like a symphony of desire.

"But... but I'm not done..." She gasps out between moans, hips bucking up against the empty air as she reaches toward release once more. The therapist's words only serve to fan the flames of her arousal, making it harder for her to resist the urge to touch herself. With one last desperate thrust, she comes apart again, crying out in relief as her body shudders with pleasure.

For several long moments, she lies still, catching her breath and trying to regain control of her senses. The buttplug nestled deep inside her ass twitches gently, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through every nerve ending. As the last tremors subside, Emily finally opens her eyes, meeting the therapist's gaze with a mixture of shame and defiance. "It feels like I can't ever be enough," she whispers, voice hoarse from exertion. "For myself, or anyone else."

She smirks wryly and shrugs one shoulder. "Guess I am," she says with a hint of pride that immediately gives way to uncertainty. "But it's not just about being bad... It's about feeling free, you know? Feeling like I can explore all these different parts of myself." Her cheeks flush slightly as she thinks back to the people and situations she's experienced since her divorce. "Sometimes it feels like my husband and I lived in completely separate worlds. He never understood why I needed... this." She gestures vaguely between them, unable to quite put it into words.

Her gaze drops once more to where the buttplug nestles deep inside her, an ache forming low in her belly as she imagines taking someone else's pleasure in that moment. The thought sends a shiver through her, heightening her arousal yet again despite everything they've discussed. "I don't want to feel like I have to hide anymore," she whispers, voice barely audible even to herself. "I want... I want it all."

With a tentative smile, she nods, pushing herself up off the couch. "Okay," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she gathers her things. "Tomorrow then." Her movements are still awkward and uncertain, like a child learning to walk for the first time, but there's an undeniable sense of hope in her expression that wasn't there before. As she heads toward the door, she glances back over her shoulder one last time, meeting the therapist's eyes with a newfound determination.

"Thank you," she says softly, voice thick with emotion. "I really do appreciate it."

The next day finds Emily once again sitting on the couch in the therapist's room, her heart racing with anticipation and trepidation. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as she waits for sebs to enter the room. As soon as they appear, her gaze drifts to their body, hungrily taking in every detail before flickering back up to meet their eyes.

"So," she manages to get out finally, her voice sounding more nervous than she would have liked. "What do you want to explore first?"

Closing her eyes obediently, Emily focuses on the words as they trickle out of the therapist's mouth. With each new sentence, vivid images form in her mind, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures that seem to swirl together into one cohesive picture. At first it's just sensory details - soft skin, firm flesh, hot breath on her neck - but as the exercise continues, she begins to see more: herself and sebs tangled together in a tapestry of desire, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

Her breath quickens at the sight, feeling the heat of arousal spreading through her core. As the images become more intense, so does the need for release, building inside her like a pressure cooker about to explode. She moans softly, arching her back against the couch as she imagines sebs taking control, guiding her through this unspoken dance of desire.

Mmm... A soft, wet pussy glistening with excitement... Her fingers reach between her legs, already slippery with arousal as she touches herself, mimicking the sensation of sebs' hands on her skin. The buttplug inside her moves in time with her movements, adding a new level of pleasure to the mix as she presses it deeper into her ass, moaning around her finger thrust into her mouth.

Her hips buck up against the couch, pushing herself closer to the edge of release, her whole body trembling with anticipation. Images flash through her mind - sebs's hand on her hip, fingers curled tight as they slide over her engorged clit; their lips pressed against hers, tongue darting out to tease and taste. She gasps, arching her back even further as the tension coils tighter inside her, threatening to snap any moment now.