A&E's Resident Sex Expert: Dr. Kat (continued)

Your questions answered Dr. Kat Van Kirk, an AASECT certified Sex Therapist and licensed Marriage Therapist. This month's question is…

Q&A: Spring Into Action to Save Your Sex Life

Dear Dr. Kat,

My girlfriend and I just moved in together and it already seems that our sex life is suffering. We get along pretty well but now that we are living together it seems more like we are roommates than lovers. We aren't even married! I didn't know this could happen so quickly. We've had such a good year together but this makes me worry. What can we do?

Sincerely,
Jason

Hi Jason,

Living together certainly can change the dynamics of your relationship. You have to figure out how to negotiate biorhythms, money, space, chores etc. These can all affect your sex life. Plus, sharing a household can often feel more practical than sexy.

Spring is the season of renewal and growth. Sounds like that's exactly what you both need. I suggest you try a few of my suggestions below:

• If your partner is taking a shower, offer to hop in and wash his or her back. Get a bottle of the yummiest smelling body wash you can find and surprise him/her with it as you lather up.

• Offer your lover a foot rub before they get out of bed in the morning or right before they fall asleep. It might not lead to a romp right then, but it sure sends a message of love.

• Allow the “honey I’m off to work and I’ll see you this afternoon kiss” to linger.

• Throw some tongue into it, cup a butt cheek or fondle a breast. If the kids are having breakfast, excuse yourself to go out to get the morning paper together for a little grope. So what if the neighbors stare?

• While running errands together, pull off the road for a few minutes of fondling. You’re adults. As long as you aren’t blocking traffic the police probably won’t give you a second glance.

I would also encourage you to have a chat with your girlfriend. Establishing that you can have these types of sensitive discussions, will only serve you both in the future.

Cheers,

Keep in touch with Dr. Kat:

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Guilty Pleasures: Erotic Fiction (continued)

Hotel Lust

For Larry, a typical day at his hotel job turned into quite the adventure. A very sexual adventure! -- The Editors

I work for a big fancy downtown hotel that's part of a national chain. The job is nothing to brag about -- in fact I'm just working here while taking hospitality classes at the nearby community college -- but I do have to dress in a coat and tie, so I guess I can look like I'm higher up on the corporate ladder than I really am. I'm always hearing rumors about hot goings-on in the hotel, both among staff and guests, especially the conventioneers -- after all, it's a building full of bedrooms! But in six months nothing had ever happened to prove to me the stories were true.

I brown bag it to work, eating my lunch in the basement break room, a far cry from the glitz and glamour upstairs, and then I go up and sit in the ornate lobby, usually to do school assignments on my laptop. The lobby is enormous, with huge crystal chandeliers and a variety of seating nooks. My favorite spot is a sort of circular well in the center of the room, furnished with plush sofas. One day I was sitting there, studiously reading, when my eyes happened to glance above the screen and I caught a flash of stocking. This was no ordinary stocking -- it was made of some kind of black lace, with an intricate design that danced up a pair of long shapely stems. A red shoe, the heel at least five inches, dangled from a gently swaying, nicely arched foot. A woman's foot.

My eyes travelled upwards, taking in a short knit dress clinging to a slinky pair of hips. I continued my journey upwards to behold a plunging neckline revealing an expanse of cleavage, and a silky white neck circled by an obviously expensive gold and diamond necklace. Then I checked out her face.

She was older than me, probably in her early 40's, and gorgeous. A pair of bright green eyes was staring directly at me like lasers. When my eyes met hers, she smiled with an attitude, with total self-assurance, and subtly fingered the pricey rocks around her fine neck. I smiled uncertainly (I think) and went back to the Hospitality 101 course on my laptop.

Of course, I could no longer concentrate on my studies. By raising my eyes slightly I could still catch a view of her legs, which crossed and uncrossed, dangling those shoes ever so tantalizingly. I could swear I caught a flash of pussy beneath her dress.

I glanced around quickly: to my right an older lady sat playing Candy Crush on her phone, and on the left an ancient looking man was nodding off into an afternoon nap. It was now obvious her display was most directed at me.

She probably thought I was a hotel guest, maybe here for the convention -- we had surgeons from the tri-state area this week, so maybe she was a gold-digger. Or even an escort. For all I knew, though, she was one of the surgeons taking a break from seminars. Whatever she was, she'd given me a raging stiffie. Chub City. I let my eyes meet hers again; she held my gaze for a moment, then stood and made a slight motion with her head indicating I should follow her. I maintained a few discreet paces behind her as she strode with those incredible legs to the elevator, and followed her inside. She pushed the button for the fifth floor, and we didn't say a word until we reached it. We got off and I trailed her down the hall, hoping desperately that Rosa, a cleaning woman I'm friendly with, wasn't currently working the floor.

Inside the room was dark, the black-out curtains pulled shut against daylight. I thought I saw a pair of men's shoes under a chair, but wasn't quite sure. Anyway, I had precious little time to assess the situation -- she instantly wrapped her arms around my neck and dove her tongue between my teeth. She did quite a number with her busy tongue, sliding it over the roof of my mouth, pressing it against my gums, thrusting it down my throat. If she was this good at kissing, I couldn't wait for her to suck my cock.

She pulled away from me and in one swift move pulled her dress over her head. Underneath was absolutely nothing, except for a black garter belt holding up her stockings. Her pussy hair was half shaved, with just a few wisps above her clit. Her tits were gorgeous -- high and firm. (Later I noticed tiny scars beneath each one, indicating a boob job).

I didn't have to wait to find out how she'd be at the art of giving head. She dropped to her knees, unzipped my fly, then fished it out with her agile tongue. She circled the head slowly at first, then with faster motions, sliding down the underside, and all around the rim. With just the tip of her tongue she licked me up and down, then lapped at my dangling balls.

I'd never felt such a skillful tongue before, and when she took my cock into her mouth to suck, she continued moving it up and down even as the head was buried deep in her throat. The sensations were incredible. She worked on me a good five or ten minutes, then stood and led me to the king-sized bed.

She laid down, spread her legs, and pushed my head between them. I spread her lips and dove in, licking her clit and folds, sticking my tongue in to drink her juices. I looked up and saw her moaning and writhing, her head arched back. I slid my hands up and down those smooth stockinged legs as I ate her out. They felt incredible, strong, and I wanted to rub my dick on them. I sat up and stripped in record time, grasped my 8-incher and rubbed it up and down her silky thigh.

"Oh yes, yes," she gasped encouragingly. I slapped my wood against the back of her knees, then rubbed the head up and down her calves. I went down to her feet and slid it across the sole of her foot. She grasped my erection tightly between both her arches and pumped it up and down; her feet were as agile as any hands, and the silkiness of her stockings as she jacked me off was an added bonus. Finally, wild with desire, she pulled me up and grabbed my cock, squeezing it hard and leading it towards her hot box.

She was so wet I slid inside effortlessly. She grabbed my butt cheeks and held me there, willing me not to move. My pole throbbed inside her as she made infinitesimal movements with her inner muscles. Her legs were wrapped around mine, and she moved them up and down, those silk stockings exciting me beyond description. I kissed her and she moved her tongue around and around my mouth, darting in and out, biting my lips gently.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. I froze.

"Emma," a man's voice called. "Are you in there, honey? I forgot my key."

I stared wide-eyed with fear.

"Ssshh," she whispered. "Just wait a minute and he'll go away." We remained locked together in terror until the knocking stopped. I was about to jump off her and into my clothes when she grabbed my ass and held me tightly to her. I struggled to free myself, but her legs held me like a vise. Desperately she moved her pelvis and dug her fingernails into my butt, then began screaming. I covered her mouth to shut her up, which only served to excite her more.

I felt her pussy muscles clenching and opening like a fist as she reached her orgasm. Half crazed with excitement and terror, I pumped myself into her then, hard and deep; it took only three strokes before I unloaded inside.

Emma whimpered and tried to fill my mouth with her nimble tongue again, but I just wanted out. She tried to hold me, but by now was too weak to fight.

Needless to say, I did not hang around for the afterglow. I bolted up, threw on my clothes and fled before hubby could return.

The next day, as I headed for my usual seat in the lobby, I saw Emma, now wearing a pair of purple stockings studded with tiny hearts, strolling arm in arm with a chubby, graying man whose nametag identified him as one of the surgeons. As we passed, her green eyes flickered in recognition, then abruptly slid away. I decided not to sit in the lobby, but went for a walk outside instead. I happened to pass by a hosiery shop, something I normally would never have noticed, and stopped to look in the window. They had all kinds of stockings -- including the exact ones Emma had been wearing when I was with her. I checked out the price tags -- the cheapest pair were a whopping 115 bucks. I wondered how Emma felt when she got a run in one of those!

Anyway, I now spend my entire lunch hour in the basement break room. I do think about Emma sometimes when I jack off, but no pair of stockings is worth the possible wrath of a husband who just happens to wield a scalpel!

-- Larry S.

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