Given an ultimatum, by the not so kinky now, control freak, Lord B, I begrudgingly visited the sex therapist. Apparantly flooding the great lounge ceiling was the final straw after having indulged myself with a toe curling power shower! As I swung my hips marching into the office, the sex therapist eyed me from head to toe in a most disapproving manner. Personally I thought my sheer pantyhose, half length fur coat and remote control vibrator in my knickers looked good together. I am most certainly not wearing Tweed to keep others happy. An English Lady should flaunt her best assets! She asked how many men had fucked me and I said I had just broken the 500 mark, not counting gang bangs as I have no idea of that score. She told me that I was a slutty English bitch with nothing on my mind except fucking. I thanked her turned up the vibrator and left. All the stupid cow did though was get me in the mood I could not wait to get home and give myself a good fucking with my double-ender. I think she fancies me, I will see if I can get in her cast iron knickers next time...