The Shoebox Ch. 04

Chapter 4. Joe's Therapist Works After Hours

Imagine that your husband writes you a beautiful poem. It is hand lettered on Japanese rice paper in traditional Japanese characters. . . . You ask him what it means. His eyes tear up. "It loses all its meaning when it is translated into English," he tells you. In fact, the characters themselves have multiple meanings and part of the subtlety of the work is the play on those similar characters. You think to yourself, "I must learn Japanese so that I can appreciate this great gift. "That's the problem Dr. Sharp. I have to learn Japanese!" [Chapter 3.]

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There was a pregnant silence in the room as I contemplated Joe Powell's last remark. He seemed so confused and frustrated. Most important he looked deeply sad.

"Well, maybe I can help you speak Japanese. Maybe if we work on this we can get some communication going between you and Beth on this important subject. Of course, I must speak with your wife. This may turn out to be a long process."

"Thank you Doctor Sharp. I realize that. We have been married for a long time and this has always been the elephant in the room that neither of us would talk about."

"There is one thing I would like to know, Joe. Why is it that you were shocked by the contents of the shoebox if you knew all along that Beth was fulfilling these needs of hers? Certainly you must have suspected something?"

"Dr. Sharp, it was almost like 'Don't ask, don't tell'. After about four years of marriage, Beth was obviously becoming restless. She told me about a club or a society or something; people who supported each other who had similar interests as Beth. She invited me to come along. Basically I told her to go by herself and enjoy, but that I really didn't want to be involved in that part of her life!"

"Beth started attending the meetings at a restaurant in Sparta. It's a public place. She would be gone on Thursday nights once or twice a month. She was always home before midnight. Sometimes she was very horny when she got home and we would have hot sex. Since I knew I couldn't understand what she saw in that kind of stuff - you know, how it could turn her on - we didn't discuss it. I began to think of her Thursday night activities as being the same as when I read Playboy or Penthouse and get turned on by the pictures. I don't go describing it to Beth, but we do occasionally have hot sex because of what I read in those magazines. What she was doing seemed innocent enough."

"But Joe, weren't you curious about what went on at that place?"

"Sure I was Dr. Sharp; after all, Beth is my wife and the mother of my children. Of course I was curious! During the first year she started attending the meetings, I secretly arranged for a babysitter to stay with our daughter and went out there once myself. Luckily it was crowded. I paid my $25 admission at the door and went in. There were all kinds of kinky people there wearing weird get-ups. You know, leather, rubber, latex. Some people had collars on. There were also a lot of people dressed pretty normally like me. There were a several guys trolling the place dressed all in black, big engineer boots - some with black leather pants. Some of them had a woman on a leash. One guy had two leashes and two women! I actually found it silly watching all these full-grown adults playing "dress-up". I had a drink, watched the parade and left. I saw Beth in a cluster of people having an animated discussion. Believe me Dr. Sharp, there didn't seem to be much going on in that room that would endanger my marriage!"

"Several years ago, before our youngest was born, her friend, Pricilla, began picking up Beth and driving her to the meetings. Apparently she was also into the BDSM lifestyle in a big way after her divorce. In fact, about six months ago she married some guy, Hunter Williams, who she met at one of those meetings."

"You mean Pricilla Block."

"Yes, Ray Block's ex-wife. Ray is a client of mine. He told me that he and Pricilla used to see you several years before they broke up."

"So then, you must have been shocked when you looked at the pictures in the shoebox?

"Yes and no." Joe replied looking down at his shoes.

"I knew that Beth and Pricilla had done some "scenes" together at Pricilla's house."

"So it didn't bother you that your wife was . . . perhaps . . .bi-sexual?"

"No, not really. That really didn't threaten me. In fact, thinking about it kind of turned me on. While I suspected that they had engaged in some type of sexual behavior, I really didn't get the impression that Beth was, you know, bi-sexual. It's hard to explain."

"You mean she was submissive, and if that meant pleasing Pricilla sexually . . . ."

"Yes, exactly! I always imagined that with Beth it is more a matter of being submissive. But after seeing those pictures, I don't know if I understand anything! All those men. All at the same time. Even while she was pregnant!"

Joe held his head in his hands and sobbed quietly.

"Has Pricilla ever talked to you about what she and Beth would do?"

Joe wiped his eyes with his handkerchief and blew his nose.

"Oh, she would make sly remarks and innuendos. You know, about how much fun they were going to have or how turned on my wife would be when she got home. Stuff like that. We never had a serious conversation if that's what you mean. Pricilla thought that Beth told me all about what they did. I felt kind of embarrassed that I didn't know - embarrassed that I didn't want to know. "

"I take it that you could have discussed this with Beth if you wanted to? She didn't discourage your questions?"

"No, she didn't sneak around and hide anything from me. I knew she went out to this BDSM club with Pricilla. I knew that she and Pricilla "played" or did "scenes" or whatever they call it. I just didn't want to know. I didn't ask her and she didn't volunteer anything."

I looked at the clock. Our session was almost over.

"I see that our time is up. But before you go there is one question that I would like to ask you. How is it that Ray Block referred you to my practice?"

"Ray is one of my clients. I see him once or twice a year. We are not that close but we have known each other for many years. When I found the shoebox, I saw Pricilla's pictures, you know, and I thought I would ask Ray what he knew about her activities with my wife. He knew they hung out together but otherwise he didn't really know what his ex-wife was up to. He did recommend you though. Actually he raved about you!"

"Well, apparently I was unable to help them save their marriage. What makes you think I can help you and your wife?"

"Because they didn't want to be helped. They just wanted to do their own thing. Ray admitted it. I love Beth and I believe she loves me. I want to save our relationship."

"Joe, I need to speak to Beth. Do you think she was serious about pursuing therapy? Do you think she will meet with me?

"Absolutely, Dr. Sharp. I told you that she said she would, and I believe her!"

"Joe, this is not my usual practice but given the circumstances with the shoebox . . . . Well, I think I would like to meet with Beth alone for our first consultation. Is that all right with you?"

Joe looked a little hurt, but immediately perked up.

Sure, if that's what you think we need. As a matter of fact, it would probably be better if she could speak to you frankly without me present to color what she tells you. After all, that's what we have been doing.

"Exactly! Let's just say that this is a delicate matter. Before I throw the two of you in a room together I want to speak with Beth and find out her story. Please let me know if she will agree to meet with me next Tuesday, that's one week from today!"

I smiled at Joe and stood up, indicating that the session was over. Joe looked nervous but hopeful. He promised me that Beth would be there next week without him and left without saying much else.

As I listened to Joe's car start up and slowly back out of my driveway, I began to wonder if I would ever see his wife, or even him again. Somehow, I couldn't imagine her showing up. Not after what I had seen in the shoebox! How mortifying for her. I know that it would be hard for me to show up if the tables were turned.

The shoebox! Joe had forgotten to take it with him! It was still on the corner of the desk, glowing in the orange light from the setting sun. "Damn!" I thought, "I can't get rid of that thing." I had only looked at a small portion of its contents and knew that if I kept it around much longer I would be doing more snooping through its obscene contents.

Just then the door to my office opened and Sid's smiling face appeared.

"Did Mr. Stud Muffin leave?"

"Yes. He just left. What are you smiling about?"

Sid walked into the room waving a white card in his hand as if challenging me to grab it from him.

"Well doctor, if you must know, I had a very interesting conversation with my friend Willy at the Starlight Room this afternoon. Seems as if your client, Beth Powell, is one of the leading members of the Eizenspritzer Society, its secretary I believe and apparently she is at most of their meetings."

"Oh, is that so? Her husband told me as much just a few minutes ago."

"Really, isn't that cozy. The family that plays together stays together I guess! Anyway, Willy gave me this flyer which invites us to attend a "meet and greet" of that august society tomorrow night at 8 PM."

With a dramatic flurry, my husband handed me the card he was holding. While it wasn't an engraved invitation, it was on heavy linen stock and looked rather classy.

"The Eizenspritzer Society invites you to an evening of social consciousness and empowering discussions concerning the dynamics of "Power Exchanges". Please join us for a seminar and roundtable discussions, Wednesday evening at 8 PM . . ."

"Very interesting. Great detective work! I will tell Sherlock to give you a promotion Dr. Watson!"

I handed the card back to Sid.

"I don't suppose you are suggesting that we actually attend this little meeting?"

Sid looked at me sheepishly. His eyes twinkled with a mischievous look which I hadn't seen in years.

"Of course, Zu-Zu! Don't you see? This is you chance to do some "field work" on Mr. Stud Muffin's case. You don't know the first thing about this lifestyle that his wife has obviously embraced. It seems to me that it behooves you to become a little bit more knowledgeable about this matter. Don't you?"

"Oh Sidney, please! You are too much! How could I possibly go tomorrow night? My leather outfit is out at the cleaners!" I laughed at Sidney's idea but then realized from the look on his face that he was quite serious.

"Sid, are you nuts? Suppose we meet up with Beth, which, according to you, is quite likely? Have you bothered to think this through?

My husband raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. I could tell that he had prepared for this discussion and that he had done his homework.

"Well Susan, suppose that we met them at the Stop-N-Shop, or even at church? What then? So what? What difference does it make? You know what? If I was your patient and I saw you at a seminar involving something I was interested in, I would be quite pleased that I had chosen you as my analyst."

"Maybe so, but I wouldn't be comfortable doing that. After all, she knows that I looked through her damn shoebox and saw all that terrible stuff! She told her husband that she would have no problem meeting with me AND I expect to see her a week from today. I would feel as if I were spying on her if we went to this thing. NO! It is out of the question. Out of the question, Sidney!"

"You know what I think Doctor? I think that you are squeamish about learning more about the BDSM lifestyle, not about meeting up with your patient. In all the years that you have been practicing I have never heard you say that you didn't want to go someplace because one of your patients might be there. And let's face it Susan, you have had some real pain-in-the-ass patients!"

I stared wordlessly at my husband. Actually, I was trying to stare him down. It was true! As unpleasant as it sometimes was to meet one of my patients at a public function, I never let that interfere with anything I wanted to do in the past. Sid was right, my knowledge of the BDSM lifestyle was practically non-existent and, had I not thought that Beth would be at this meeting, I would probably have let my intellectual curiosity overcome my reservations about attending such a function. I did need more background on the motivations of people in this lifestyle an evening meeting a few miles away at a restaurant was a pretty easy way to get more information.

As I was thinking about of all these things, I noticed that Sid was staring at the shoebox on the corner off my desk. He was obviously deep in thought. He glanced back at me with a start and gave me a crooked smile. Then he took me in his arms and started kissing me gently, allowing his strong hands to caress the length of my body.

Now my husband is a sensuous and romantic man. It is not unusual for him to hold me, kiss me and caress me for no reason, just to show me how much he loves and desires me. Most of the time, I am pleased with his attention but usually I am not sexually aroused. For some reason, this time was different. His kisses were tender and light on my lips. I could feel the electricity stimulate my nipples and travel down to my vagina. My entire body started to tingle. I leaned into him and returned his kisses with an urgency that actually embarrassed me.

Sid sensed my aroused response and became more aggressive with his touches. I felt myself melt into his body as his strong arms enveloped me. Both my arms encircled his neck and I began trying to kiss him passionately, but he teasingly kept his lips just a hairsbreadth away from mine.

His denial made me even needier. I was molding my body into him in an effort to get as much contact as possible. His large hands were now grabbing at my buttocks and pulling me into him. I began grinding my vagina into his leg and pulled his head down to my lips, trying to force him to kiss me. Finally, our lips met. My tongue shot out like a small penis into his mouth. I longed to taste him, to touch him. I was hungry and my hunger would not be denied!

Sid slid both his arms down under my thighs and hoisted me up around his waist. I could feel his large penis through my dress. I could feel that swollen organ grind into me as he raised me up, signaling the promise of things to come. As he wheeled us around, he swept the contents of my desk off to the side, and with them, the shoebox. Then he roughly sat me down on the edge of my desk and began to grind into my sex as he passionately kissed me.

I felt my husband's hands hoist up my ankle-length dress as my legs straddled his waist. We were still kissing passionately, tongues dueling in each other's mouth. I heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper being pulled down and then felt him and tear at the gusset of my white cotton panties, pushing them aside with a frantic urgency.

As I held onto his neck I realized my position. I was in my office, my sanctus-sanctorum; the place where I met with all my clients. My dress was bunched up around my waist and my panties pushed aside. A large penis was snaking its way toward my vagina, parting my moist lips with its large, plumb shaped head. I was about to start rutting like an animal in my own office, begging to be taken like a bitch in heat. This had never happened before! I was over 50 years old! This was my husband of over 30 years who was practically raping me in my own office and I was almost begging him to fuck me!

Sidney felt my need as his large penis began to enter my swollen outer lips. He kept just the wide tip of its head separating my pussy lips, teasing me, goading me to rut into him. For some reason, the only thought in my head at that moment was my need to be filled with my husband's penis. I began hunching up into him, obscenely begging him with my body to end my frustration and to fill me with his manhood.

He held me an arms length away and gazed into my eyes with a self-satisfied look. It was maddening. Did I have to beg him to fuck me? I tried pulling him toward me but he was too large and I was too petite. Because of my position, with my legs around his waist and my ass on the edge of the desk, I had little purchase. I was smoldering. Finally I couldn't take his teasing:

"For God's sake, fuck me!"

There, I said it! A huge smile came across his face as he slowly pushed his engorged member into my needy pussy. I closed my eyes and pulled him in with my legs. I felt him go slack as if to give me permission to fuck myself with his beautiful cock. I pulled him into me again and moaned. God that felt so good! I was filled to the brim. He slowly swung back as if by gravity, withdrawing his large cock from me and leaving me with an aching emptiness. Again I flexed my knees and drew him into me at my own speed using his body as a large human dildo.

Suddenly, my husband became more aggressive. He lifted my legs from around his waist and spread them wide. I plopped back onto my desk and allowed him to have at me. He spread my legs obscenely. My office was filled with the scent of my arousal, the scent of a woman in heat! He began to plunge into me like a man possessed. He was fucking me, not making love. I could hear my moans floating though the room as the slap, slap sound of his balls hitting my ass filled the air.

Without warning, Sid withdrew. I felt a maddening emptiness that needed to be filled. He squatted down in front of me and began licking my wet pussy. I propped myself up onto my elbows and watched his head as he began to devour my sex. Although I ached to be filled, his tongue and his lips were bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. The delicious nastiness of us being in my office, both fully clothed and rutting like two guilty lovers catching a free moment alone was bringing me over the edge!

As quickly as he had started his oral ministrations, he abruptly stopped. He roughly grabbed my legs by my ankles and opened me up to his lust. I watched as he grabbed his impossibly engorged penis in his hand and aimed it at my lewd gaping hole. I marveled at its size and hardness. Without any preliminaries he rammed it into me up to the hilt! My eyes rolled up into my head and again I plopped down onto my desk like a rag doll. I felt his massive organ withdraw almost entirely from my vaginal canal. I could feel the cool air enter against the hot moisture of my pussy as he paused. For some reason I imagined how open and engorged it must have looked to him. Again he thrust it into me. This time I could feel my clit being stretched down into my vagina, captured by the shaft of the huge organ that was slamming into me.

By this time, my mind, my body, my sensations had been reduced to a single point at which we were joined. Again Sid withdrew his penis. As if in slow motion, I turned my head and opened my eyes. My cheek was flat against my desk and my knees were squashing my breasts. I saw the shoebox in front of my eyes. Sid's hasty action clearing the top of the desk had knocked off its top and turned it onto its side. From my obscene splayed-out position, I was staring into the shoebox. The deck of pictures was still inside, wrapped in its rubber band, the smirking picture of Beth Powell on top.

My husband began thrusting deliberately, dispensing with all gentleness. With each powerful thrust, I felt his cock pushing past the slippery sides of my cunt and again capturing my clit. Each time he paused and ground into me, the head of his cock moving aside my cervix, as he pushed it up into me.

As I was being taken, I found myself staring directly into Beth Powell's eyes. As I looked at her picture, it was as if she was taunting me, daring me to cum on my own desk, in my own office. Those sparkling eyes were telling me that I was a wanton slut, a bitch in heat and insatiable whore!