#american physco

It was now an awkward silence in the room as you looked around the place. It looked cozy and inviting.

Although everything there was mainly white, it had sort of a modern look. Whoever owns this room definitely has good taste.

Paul cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Babe, before the counselor comes in, I just wanna say that I love you and I’m only doing this because I want us to work.” He said, running his hand up and down your thigh.

You let out a scoff, scooting away from him. “Yeah, sure you do cheater.” He let out a defeated sigh.

Paul had cheated on you a week and a half prior to this appointment because he claimed you weren’t giving him any sex, but it’s not your fault.

Paul hasn’t been the best in bed and it’s very clear because you don’t want to have sex with him. He doesn’t care for you pleasure, only fucking you to get himself off. He doesn’t do aftercare, eat you out, and he barely kisses you.

Who would want to make love to someone who doesn’t give that love back?

You were broken out your thoughts when the door opened, you and Paul’s heads turning to see a man. A very hot man. He wore an expensive looking black suit with a red tie that had small blue designs on it.

You watched as the man took a seat on a small loveseat across from you two, putting his things down.

“Hello guys, sorry I’m a little late, traffic was kicking my ass.” he joked. “I’m going to be your marriage counselor, Patrick Bateman. Judging by what was said when setting up this appointment I'm assuming I’m going to be helping you two get on the same track with your relationship?”

He asked, finally looking up. He instantly locked eyes with you, your mouth dropping agape slightly.

You were frozen, eyes a little wide as you stared at him. You’ve never seen someone so good looking before.

The silence broke when your husband cleared his throat like early, bringing the attention to him. “Yes, we are here for that. We’ve been having marriage problems such as trust issues, arguments, and our sex life hasn’t been great recently.”

Patrick finally took his eyes off of you, perking up once he heard the last thing mentioned. “Sex life? What’s been going on with that? Actually, take me back to how it was in the beginning of your relationship and how it is now.”

“Sex used to be good, amazing even! We used to have it at least 3, maybe 4 times a week, but now, the most we have it is probably 1 and that’s if she’s feeling like it.” Paul said, making sure to throw shade at the end.

Now he’s trying to make you seem like the bad guy, like you’re the one who’s messing up the marriage and causing these problems?

“Oh yeah, “if I feel like it.” Well Mr. Bateman, he didn’t tell you the reason why I don’t feel like having sex with him.”

Patrick closed his eyes tightly for a small second, gulping as he tries to focus on your story and not the way you called him Mr. Bateman.

Paul groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh come on, we don’t have to talk about that-”

Patrick held his hand up, stopping Paul from talking. “Mr. Allen, please. Let your wife have her say.”

You grinned, seeing how offended Paul looked at Patrick’s interruption.

“Almost 2 weeks ago I caught him cheating on me with some prostitute. Apparently it’s my fault because I don’t have sex with him, but the truth is he’s not doing it for me. I’m not enjoying the sex with him, so I haven’t been wanting to do it, but that still doesn’t give him the right to cheat on me.” You said, specifically looking at your ‘loving’ husband.

You missed the way Patrick’s eyes darkened. How dare Paul. How dare he cheat on someone so beautiful like you.

Patrick doesn’t even know you and he was already transfixed on your appearance and the way you innocently looked up at him when he walked through the door.

Paul looked at the ground, feeling a little guilty. “Okay look, I know what I did was wrong, but I was just really horny and the prostitute was there for me unlike you!”

Patrick quickly stepped in, seeing an argument beginning to brew up. “Alright, let’s calm down before things get heated. Y/n, you said you’re not enjoying sex with Paul? Tell me, what is he not doing right, and what do you want him to do.”

All anger you felt quickly diminished, nervousness replacing it. You’ve never been one to express your feelings, especially when it comes to sex.

It’s the main reason why you and Paul never do anything different and why it’s become so boring!

“Uh, I don’t know. He doesn’t really show me any attention.” Patrick hummed. “And what attention are you looking for?”

Out of your peripheral vision you could see Paul’s head lifting up to look at you, but you only looked straight ahead at Patrick.

“Attention to myself, to my body. He barely kisses me, touches me, he doesn’t even give me oral! It’s always about him. As soon as we get in the mood he strips me and himself and just gets into it. There’s no foreplay, passion, or love and I’m tired of it.”

Patrick let your words sink in for Paul, but mainly for himself, taking notes on what you desired. He could definitely do better than your so-called husband.

He looked at Paul, seeing him with a sad look on his face. It’s clear you two haven’t talked about this.

“Paul, why don’t you show your wife any affection? She’s a very beautiful woman, anyone would be lucky to have her.”

When Paul heard that, he looked up, seeing the way you were looking at Patrick with a small blush on your cheeks.

He’s making you blush. He’s making you feel things he hasn’t been able to do in a long time. Probably since the beginning of your relationship.

Part of Paul knew you weren’t enjoying the sex. Sometimes he could tell you were faking an orgasm, other times he completely ignored you when you tried to get him to do something different to spice up the sex.

“I guess I don’t know how to.” He admitted, sounding defeated.

Patrick couldn’t help, but feel bad for him. Here’s a man who’s slowly losing his wife because he doesn’t know how to do the right things in bed.

“Well luckily for you Mr. Allen, I’m your counselor, and I’m here to help.” Patrick said, placing his clipboard aside.

He began unbuttoning his suit jacket, placing it neatly across his loveseat.

“Now, what I’m about to say might be weird, and we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Patrick began suggesting, taking a moment to think. He really hopes you choose to do so.

“I want you two to have sex, right here, right now.”

A gasp fell from your lips, as your eyes widened. He wants you and your husband to fuck on his couch?

“I know, it sounds weird, but I want to help you two, and by having sex, it’ll allow me to see what you’re doing wrong, Mr. Allen, and also tells me what you need to do right to please your wife.”

It was quiet for a second as you and Paul thought this through. You turned to look at him. “Well, do you want to?” You muttered, picking at your fingernail.

Paul let out a sigh, running his hand down his thighs. “I mean, it’ll help our marriage, right?” He asked. You nodded your head.

“Okay, we’ll do it.”

Patrick had to bite back a smile, wanting to keep his professional look. “Alright, just be normal, act like I’m not here, I’ll be observing.”

You and Paul still sat in the same position for at least 10 seconds before he made the first move. He instantly reached to pull your pants and panties down before grabbing your ankles and dragging you down so you were laying on your back.

Patrick bit the inside of his cheek, grabbing the clipboard and scribbling something down.

No foreplay.

Your shirt wasn’t even pushed up, out of the way before Paul dived into your cunt, messily sucking and biting at your folds.

Patrick’s eyes moved to your face, seeing a look of discomfort, your eyebrows furrowing in slight pain when he playfully tugged at your folds.

No wonder he doesn’t give you oral. He doesn’t even know how to eat you out properly.

Your hands came to his head. “Paul, slow down.” You said, hoping he would, but he ignored you, continuing to lick at your folds.

He was fast, but not a good kind of fast. He seemed to be rushing things, not taking the time to enjoy you and give you that pleasure you deserved.

Paul let out an annoyed sigh as he pulled back. “I don’t even taste anything sweet.” He complained, looking up at you.

“Because you’re going too fast. There’s no pleasure which is why you need to slow down.” You scolded him, feeling annoyed.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna spend half of the time eating you out when I can let you give me head and fuck you.”

Patrick frowned hearing that. Is that how you talk to a woman in the middle of being intimate, and your wife at that.

“Enough of that. Move onto the next thing.” Patrick demanded, seeing you give him a thankful look. You clearly weren’t enjoying it.

This time Paul had a huge smile on his face as he pulled his pants down to his knees, freeing himself.

The nasty bastard wasn’t even wearing underwear, just freeballing in public.

“Stop sitting there and get on your knees.” Paul ordered, pointing in between his legs. You quickly rushed between them, grabbing the base of his cock while gently jerking him off.

Paul relievingly sighed, putting his hand on the back of your neck and pushing your face closer to him. You licked a line up his cock to his tip, a grunt being heard from your husband.

“Don’t lick the tip or I’ll cum. You know I’m sensitive.” You obeyed him, focusing below his head while still stroking him.

That made Patrick realize something about Paul. It made him see how controlling he was during sex. He controls everything and doesn’t give you any pleasure back.

He watched as you were slow and gentle with him, licking and sucking at his balls, something almost every man would dream of, but once again, a hiss was heard from Paul. “Calm down, you're sucking too hard. And can you maybe, I dunno, pick up the pace?”

You pulled back from him, feeling yourself getting worked up. “Well what do you want me to do, Paul? Your tip is too sensitive so I can’t suck it, I’m sucking your balls too hard, I’m going too slow, what do I do right then?”

Paul’s hand fisted your hair. “Then let me take control.”

You didn’t even get to say anything else as he forced your mouth on him, pushing your head all the way down until you gagged. Your nails dug into his thigh, crescent moon shapes forming on his skin.

He controlled your movements, pushing and pulling at your head as he moaned. His hips began thrusting up to meet your mouth, a choking noise being heard in the room as you tried to pull away.

Paul’s head was thrown back in pleasure, not looking to see as you tried to push away from him, your hands on his thighs desperately pushing up.

Patrick quickly stepped in. “Mr. Allen, let her breathe.”

Paul let you go, your head practically springing away from his hold as you fell back on your butt. You coughed horribly, trying to get air back in your lungs.

Patrick reached over to the mini fridge and pulled out a fresh cold bottle of Fiji. He turned your body to face him, cracked open the bottle and held it to your lips, letting the cool water slide down your throat.

You quickly drank it, water spilling down your chin and onto your shirt. Half of the bottle was almost gone until you pushed it away, looking up at him.

Patrick couldn’t help, but let his thumb wipe the water that dribbled down your chin. You looked so pretty like this—on your knees, looking up at him with those big doe eyes.

He wishes it was him who you were sucking off, who was fucking your throat, but he would be gentle. He would make sure you’re both enjoying it and that you were able to breathe.

Your sweet little moment was interrupted by your man. “She doesn’t need any water, she’s alright.” Paul dismissed, picking you up and dropping you on the couch.

He got in between your legs, stroking himself for a moment. “I’m assuming we can move on now?” He asked, but didn’t receive any answer.

Patrick quickly got the clipboard and wrote some more things down.

Bossy.

Rough throat fucking.

Not checking up on partner.

Paul didn’t let you know he was entering you until he harshly pushed himself inside you, a groan only coming from him. “Shit! Cunt’s always so tight!” He mumbled, to himself.

After that, Patrick quickly became aware of why you said Paul doesn’t fuck right.

Starting off he was fast, hips thrusting into you. Your body moved at his thrusts, but your mouth didn’t. No sounds were coming from you except for the skin clapping that could be heard.

Paul was quick, jackhammering into you as he used up all his stamina. He wasn’t so speedy anymore, his thrusts beginning to slow down.

You seemed to enjoy those thrusts, your mouth finally opening a little as your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding against your walls.

You didn’t have long to enjoy the slow strokes as his stamina charged back up and the speedy thrusts from earlier came back. Your eyes opened and mouth closed.

Back to square one.

Patrick took note.

Inconsistent thrusts.

He does things too fast and doesn’t like to slow down when it’s clearly something you like.

He doesn’t pay attention to what you like.

The way he got so annoyed when he didn’t taste your sweet nectar when eating you out, or when you were ‘sucking too hard’, or how slow you were going.

He doesn’t like going slow.

He can only imagine how fast he was in the relationship before marriage.

Patrick couldn’t sit there anymore and watch this pathetic excuse of what Paul called sex. This was not sex. Sex is something both partners are supposed to enjoy. You looked bored, meanwhile, your husband was having all the fun.

“Mr. Allen, I’ve seen enough.” Paul’s thrusts began to slow down as he looked at Patrick. “Well can I finish? I’m almost there.” Patrick shook his head. “You don’t deserve to finish from her cunt.”

“Excuse me?”

Patrick ignored your husband’s offended voice. “I’ve seen all I needed too and it’s clear why your wife doesn’t like having sex with you.”

Patrick looked down at you. “Before I go over what I’ve just observed, do you need help reaching climax?”

Your eyes widened at his question. You could see Paul looking down at you with an intense gaze.

You turned your head, wanting to look at him, but Patrick shook his head, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“No, don’t look at him, look at me. This isn’t about what your husband thinks. For once, think about yourself. Do you want me to help you cum?”

“Please.” You whined out without hesitation.

Paul’s mouth dropped in shock. “What? Did you just agree to— You can’t do that, we're married!” Paul began whining, throwing a tantrum like a child.

Patrick grinned. “Well you did cheat on her and you two are married, so it’s only fair. Think of it as…revenge.”

Patrick grabbed Paul from behind and dragged him to the loveseat he sat in and took his spot in between your legs.

You watched as he untied his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at you. “Go on and take your shirt and bra off for me.”

You listen to him, almost ripping the shirt off your body, eager to finally get what you’ve been craving.

As soon as he got his shirt off he cupped your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth.

A small gasp fell from your lips as your back arched at the feeling.

You can’t remember the last time any attention was given to your breast other than yourself when you had to use a vibrator after a failed orgasm from Paul.

While giving attention to your breasts, he took the time to pull his pants and boxers down past his plump butt, your husband's eyes widening at the sight.

He’s really watching another guy enjoy you.

You’re actually moaning and begging for more.

Patrick didn't even need help to get hard. He already was while looking over your body as your husband pathetically fucked you, imagining all the things he would do to you.

You quickly came to realize your marriage counselor was experienced when it came to these activities. He didn’t even use his hand to guide himself to your entrance, instead using his hips to push near your hole.

“I’m gonna enter you, you ready?”

Your mind blanked for a second, not used to this little warning before doing something. With a nod of your head, you felt his tip begin to stretch you out, your mouth slowly dropping open in pleasure.

Patrick watched in fascination seeing the way his body made you react. This is way better than what he imagined.

You had quickly grown wet just from his sucking, so luckily it didn’t hurt as bad.

He was way bigger than your husband, and for some reason that turned you on even more, especially since he’s literally watching you two.

Patrick was patient as he gave you time to adjust to him, your eyes seemingly glossy at the thought.

This is all you’ve ever wanted—someone who takes time for you, someone who makes you feel loved, someone who puts your pleasure over theirs.

It might seem selfish, but when you’re with someone who does the complete opposite, you don’t care anymore.

Once you gave a signal of permission for him to start, he did, but gently. He didn’t start off crazy fast, but slow, taking time to let you feel every drag his cock did on your walls.

As you looked up at him, it was clear he was holding back. He looked so strained, eyes closed, jaw clenched, and the way his hips moved looked weird for him, but he was trying.

He was trying to give you everything you’ve been craving and that’s all what matters, but something inside you wanted him to do the opposite.

You wanted him to be fast, to be rough with you.

“W-Wait.”

He paused.

“Can you fuck me fast and hard?”

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise as well as your husband’s. Neither of them expected you to talk like that, but what you wish for will come true.

Patrick hummed as his hips started moving again, but at a faster pace than earlier.

“What? You never want me to fuck you fast or hard!”

You both heard your husband mutter to himself, but neither of you paid him any attention. This wasn’t about him right now, it was about you.

Patrick’s hands gripped your hips pulling you forward to meet his thrusts, wet skin slapping echoing in the room.

It was nasty to anyone who walked by, but to you and Paul it was surprising, and Patrick, ego boosting.

You nor Paul knew you could get that wet, but Patrick did. You just needed the right person to show you.

Moans threatened to spill from your lips, but you held back, not wanting to get loud. That caught Patrick’s attention, a tsk coming from him. “Don’t try to quiet down. Let everyone in this building know how good I’m making you feel.”

And you did.

You cried loudly as he pounded you, your hands clawing at his abs, fingers grazing the vein below his belly button. Your head lolled to the side, your eyes catching your husband who looked devastated and shocked.

His eyes were wide, mouth agape, and a painfully hard boner was visible. He tried to hide it, but it was clear as day to anyone’s eyes.

Patrick noticed your gaze somewhere else and looked over with a grin. “You like seeing your husband watch you get fucked by another man?”

When you moaned he laughed.

“Man, Paul, you really got yourself a good one!”

Paul gulped, eyes flickering to your fucked out face and Patrick’s body. He didn’t know where to look, but he knew he couldn’t look away.

“I don’t see how you kept a woman like Y/n for that long.” He said, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulder. You practically screamed at his thrusts, the new position allowing him to hit deeper inside you.

Your nails snatched at his shoulders and back leaving red marks on his skin.

Your husband could do nothing, but watch and listen as your marriage counselor restlessly pounded into you, your cries getting louder.

“I’m gonna cum.” You somehow warned him.

Patrick’s hand found its way between your body and began rubbing at your clit, that small movement pushing you over the edge.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeply, eyes rolled back, and the loudest cry known to man was heard.

Paul’s never found your clit before. You honestly thought he didn't know what or where it was.

Patrick groaned at the hard clench you had on him, quickly pulling out and jerking himself until he came.

You laid there looking up at the ceiling while catching your breath. Patrick didn’t seem to break a sweat, reaching over and grabbing some tissues off the stand beside the couch and cleaning you up.

“Paul.” He called out, catching your husband’s attention who was still processing everything he just watched.