Cuck Therapy Pt. 01

Kerr, Brunder and Associates had their offices in a mid-sized brick and stone building in a very upscale area downtown, surrounded by trendy cafes and microbreweries. The spacious foyer was brightly lit with natural light through its large windows, and reflected off the abundant chrome and white marble of the minimalist interior. The slightly sterile impression was countered somewhat by a few plants and little artificial waterfalls set into the marble here and there. A few people sat on chairs, waiting, the women fashionably dressed, the men with a class of outfit that, while mostly casual, still made me feel underdressed in my jeans and button-up shirt I was now glad to have chosen over a T-shirt. In short, it made me wonder how we were able to afford being there.

I could tell Lisa was impressed as she scanned these surroundings. Finally, her eyes fell on mine, and she gave a hint of a smile before taking my hand. We made our way to the reception desk, where a young attractive receptionist with her brown hair in a tight ponytail and a light, tight cream sweater smiled and greeted us. Lisa glanced at me, prompting.

"John and Lisa Doult," I said. "We have an appointment for 2:30."

The receptionist smilingly passed me a clipboard with a document on it and a pen.

"Please have a seat and fill this out," she said. "I'll call you when we're ready."

We found our way to a couple of chairs to one side of the waiting area and I leafed quickly through the documents. On top there was a form requesting our contact information, and a business card held fast by the clip. Dr. K. Brunder, PhD, Marriage Counselor, with phone, email and website. Below that was a non-disclosure agreement. I wasn't entirely surprised by this, as it had come up in conversation with my friend Dan, who had recommended this place.

I had spoken with Dan about counseling at Lisa's prompting. Dan and his wife, Delores, a friend of Lisa's, had suffered a similar crisis in their marriage. It had almost ended their marriage, but now they were like newlyweds - it really was impressive, how affectionate they were despite their many years of marriage and turbulence. He gave full credit to Kerr, Brunder and Associates, and he made it clear he thought that Lisa and I should try it before giving up.

I was skeptical and he could sense it.

"I know how you feel. I felt the same way. We were done, Delores and I," he had said firmly. "I had had enough. Delores convinced me to try counseling and I agreed - thinking, honestly, it would shut her up and then I would be able to say I tried everything to make it work before finally ditching her ass. But... man, it worked. It was not easy, but... wow."

I was still non-committal.

"Look, I don't know if it will work for you guys. Maybe it's not for everyone. And God knows, it's a tough ride, and... well,unconventional to say the least. It kind of takes you apart before putting you back together, but look at us now. I'm happier than I 've ever been and we're crazy about each other, Delores and I. And the sex is fucking outstanding."

"That's easy to believe," I granted. "You guys are like teenagers with each other."

"No," he said, looking me hard in the eye. "Way more intense than that. No joke. Way hotter."

"Jesus. Well, what does it involve?" I asked.

"The sex or the treatment?" he responded, laughing.

"Both," I said, laughing in turn.

"I can't say anything about the treatment. We had to sign an NDA. And as far as the sex goes, I promised Delores I would never tell a living soul," he replied, smiling.

Now here we were, the self-same NDA in front of me. I wasn't sure whether or not an NDA was unusual for marriage counseling, never having had counseling of any sort before. But I supposed it made sense to protect methods that worked from competition. The form seemed standard enough. My pen hovered a moment over the dotted line and I thought about his description of their approach as "unconventional," but, fuck it - if I didn't like it, I could just quit it.

I signed my name and handed it to Lisa. Lisa signed without bothering to read it and handed it back to me. She put her arm around me and pulled her body close, her firm, full breast against my side, and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you for this, John," she said. She laid her head on my shoulder. My body stiffened slightly, involuntarily. Resentfully. I repented and put my arm around her. I looked down at her, smelling the coconut shampoo in her long, silky hair, and admiring the sexiness of her ample cleavage. I was struck with a sudden wish that we could have sex right then. That I could bend her over and grab her perfect ass with both hands and slide all the way into her, real slow.

Christ, if she wasn't so goddamn sexy, I'd already have the divorce papers drawn up and served. I loved, her, I did, but even love has its limits. Those limits stretch a little further when a woman's got a body that... you get the idea.

We sat waiting a while. I scanned the others waiting. Some were obviously couples and I wondered how many were here for the same reason. Many looked tense, and young, about our age - mid-20's to 30s, and I guessed they probably were. The wives were each quite attractive. Had they done something to wrong their husbands? Had they been bad? What had they done? I felt my cock swell slightly.

To distract myself, I flipped through the documents on the clipboard again. There was no form for insurance information.

"Lisa - how are we able to afford this?" I asked.

"I've got it, okay? Don't worry about that. We need this, and I've got it."

Lisa always handled the bills. I've never had a good mind for finance. I write ad copy. The thought of financial forms gives me a stress headache. I let it go.

Just then, a young woman approached.

"John and Lisa?" she asked pleasantly. "I'm Dr. Brunder's assistant, Julienne. Follow me," she said with a slight French accent. She took the clipboard and checked for our signatures on the NDA. "Dr. Brunder is ready for you."

We were lead down a hallway to a door on which Julienne knocked and then opened slightly.

"Come in," a woman's voice called out.

Julienne opened the door fully and stood aside, waiting smilingly for us to pass her into the room. She closed the door behind us.

A tall blonde woman was approaching us from behind a desk. Her hair was mostly pulled back in a loose ponytail, but a few locks fell fetchingly down the side of a very attractive face. She was probably 40. Her business-like slacks and a tight black sweater beneath a white blazer flattered an athletic body, and well-proportioned and shapely breasts, between which a tasteful gold trinket on a thin gold chain hung.

"John," she said, taking my hand and smiling. "Lisa, I'm Dr. Brunder. Please sit."

She resumed her seat behind her desk as we settled into two comfortable chairs set back a little from the front of her desk. Her office was spacious, and large windows concealed by thin white curtains let the sunlight filter in while maintaining the privacy of the room. On the walls were hung a number of modern paintings, but absent the shelves of books I suppose I had been taught to expect by film and TV sets of similar offices. A few plants here and there, and some small sculptures completed the picture. Her large mahogany desk was tidily bare except for a laptop, closed, a pad of yellow paper, blank, and an expensive looking silver pen beside it.

We each sat for a moment silently, us observing her and she us.

"Some water?" she asked.

"Yes, please," said Lisa. Brunder's eyes turned to me. Stunningly blue. My mouth was dry - I nodded.

There was a water cooler against the wall beside her desk and she filled two glasses from it as she spoke.

"Sometimes couples come here with the simple aim of seeing if there is an opportunity to improve a relationship in which they are not really experiencing any particular difficulties - much as an amateur musician might seek lessons to improve their performance, to seek for excellence. More often, however, they come because there is a particular difficulty. A crisis. A need to repair."

She handed us our water and returned to her seat behind her desk.

"Either is fine. I am able to help in both cases. When there is crisis, however, it is most efficient to begin with that - with the crisis and its cause. So... I must ask. Are we here for improvement? Or repair?"

Lisa and I glanced at each other, and I could read that she wanted me to answer.

"Repair," I said.

Brunder nodded. I waited for her to say something else, expecting her to lead the conversation, but she sat silently waiting, her face impassive. I was determined to wait her out, but as the silence became more uncomfortable, I broke.

"I've never done this before," I said, feeling foolish immediately.

Brunder smiled sympathetically, but continued to wait. I was annoyed at her silence. It seemed like a power-play. A demonstration that she had the self-assurance to endure the awkwardness of the silence and wait. It was pretty effective. I was composing what to say next when she finally spoke.

"Would it be easier if I took a guess?" she asked.

I tried to detect a note of annoyance or mockery in her tone, but she was just frank. Dr. Brunder had no time for bullshit.

"Sure," I said, trying for levity, as if it were a fun game, a test. "Give it a shot."

"If I'm to guess, you mustn't take offense if I get it wrong," she said.

I nodded.

Her eyes stayed on mine, studying me while she considered her answer, ignoring Lisa.

"Infidelity," she said, her face still impassive.

Involuntarily, I broke eye-contact. The word had power. When I forced my gaze back to her, she was nodding slightly.

"Whose?" she asked, her eyes still on mine.

I waited to see if Lisa would answer, but she didn't. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was looking at the floor.

"Shall I guess again?"

I nodded.

Her eyes finally went to Lisa, who looked up at her sombrely. Lisa nodded slightly.

"Okay," Dr. Brunder said. "We're started then." She leaned back in chair, settling in. As she spoke she looked alternately at Lisa and I both. "In order to make progress, it is important to avoid confusion, and miscommunication. That means we cannot take anything for granted or make assumptions. That means I may ask things that seem obvious to you. But I have never met you - I don't know you. Even if I did, one shouldn't make assumptions. Even people who have know each other for years do not know each other."

As she said that last thing, she gave us a significant look. She was sure as shit right about that. I was discovering how little I knew Lisa after all these years.

"So, let us confirm or correct what might be assumed."

She waited a moment, and Lisa and I nodded.

"You find Lisa's infidelity very upsetting, John?" she asked.

Since the moment that I had discovered Lisa had been fucking around on me, rage had been bubbling beneath my surface. Sometimes subdued, buried, sometimes less so. This had brought it to the surface.

"Yeah," I said, shooting Brunder an involuntary look of hostility. "I find it very fucking upsetting, thank you."

Brunder looked at me evenly, unfazed. Brunder was not to be fucked with.

"Sorry," I said. "Yes, I do find it upsetting."

Brunder nodded.

"You are having trouble forgiving her?"

I nodded.

"And you are having trouble imagining that you could trust her again?"

Another nod.

"Yes, that's very natural."

She turned her attention to Lisa.

"It was with a man?"

"Yes," Lisa replied, somewhat surprised.

"One man?"

"Yes," Lisa replied more firmly, nodding.

"One encounter or more?"

Lisa took a moment, and replied with her head hung in shame.

"It was just a couple times," she replied, wiping a tear away.

"How many is a couple?"

"Three or four times," Lisa said.

Brunder leaned back and studied her for a moment. She picked up her pen and studied it as she began speaking again.

"Very often, when one partner cheats on another, they will minimize the affair to whatever extent possible. It's very natural, and motivated not only by fear of consequences, or shame, but also out of compassion for the other partner, out of a desire to not hurt the other partner. And it is very tempting, since the other partner typically has no way of knowing otherwise. But the real damage of an affair usually is the destruction of trust in the relationship. That is very hard to repair. To repair it requires a great deal of honesty. Fear and shame must be overcome to achieve this honesty. That is very difficult, I know. This is the chief difficulty in recovering from this kind of marital crisis. Are you both willing to overcome your fear and shame if that is what it takes to repair this marriage?"

She waited, looking up at us finally. We both nodded.

"Good," she said, nodding in kind. She looked at Lisa. "Once we've told a lie, we feel stuck in it. We fear more, worse, consequences if we correct it. But if we want to repair trust...."

Lisa was weeping more now.

"Lisa?"

Lisa looked up.

"You are willing to do what is necessary to repair John's trust? To repair your marriage?"

Lisa nodded, sobbing.

"Was it just one man?"

"Yes," she wailed.

Brunder waited a moment for Lisa to recover herself a little.

"And how many sexual encounters did you have with this man?"

More sobbing. I felt myself go numb as I waited.

Finally Lisa drew a big breath and blurted, "Less than twenty, I think."

It was a gut punch. My vision narrowed, the room becoming dark at the edges and I could feel my heart beating. I heard Brunder say "Okay," softly, and then we were silent for a long time as we waited for Lisa to recover. Brunder made some notes as we waited.

"I'm sorry, John!" Lisa wailed. She reached her hand out to me, but the distance between the chairs was such that she just reached the fabric of my sleeve.

I didn't even look at her.

After her weeping subsided a bit, Brunder spoke again.

"I assume that you've already apologized for the affair, Lisa? No more apologies, then. Even when new details come to light. We must move beyond guilt and blame now. It is natural that each of you will feel guilt or blame in your turn, but if we keep returning to the narrative of who is blameworthy and who is wronged, and how much so, we will be distracted from the course to healing and repair. And if you are to be a functioning happy couple again, you cannot assume the roles of sinner and sinned-against, understood? Apologies have been made. No more apologies."

Lisa looked at me. I nodded, and then she nodded.

"Okay. The affair is over?" Brunder asked.

Lisa nodded forcefully. "Yes."

"Okay," said Brunder. She turned to me. "John, am I right in guessing that you discovered the affair, or did Lisa tell you about herself?"

I nodded. "I figured it out."

"How? Can you tell me that story?"

I sighed. "What difference does it make?"

She looked at me with her impassive face again, pausing a moment before replying.

"You are not always going to understand why or what I say or ask, John. If this is going to work, you are going to have to trust that I know what I am doing. I get results. I will fix your marriage. But we mustn't waste time discussing methodology."

I sighed again. "At first it was just an intuition. Starting about a year ago. I think you just know, you know?" She nodded. "That made me pay more attention to her schedule and her behavior. Staying late at the office, or going to the gym a lot, or girls' nights. I tried to shake it off, but I couldn't. One night she came home from a girls' night out, and I wanted to make love to her. We were in bed. She had had a few drinks. We made out for a minute and then I went to... to go down. She stopped me. Told me to just get in her."

It was strange telling such an intimate story in an unfamiliar office, but Brunder's face told me she was well accustomed to such intimate divulgences. She nodded.

"Go on," she said.

"Well, it made me suspicious. You know?"

"A lady seldom refuses oral sex," she said evenly, nodding.

I couldn't prevent a brief vision of Brunder, pantless and pantiless on her desk, moaning as I worked her pussy with my tongue. I took a sip of water and hoped she couldn't read my thoughts. My cock swelled slightly and I shifted in my seat.

"Why did you think she was refusing?" she asked.

"I think you know why," I said.

"Perhaps, but we need to get in the habit of speaking frankly with each other."

I shifted in my seat. "I wondered.... if she had... semen in her."

Brunder nodded.

"Cum," she said.

"What?" I asked, taken off guard.

"I mean, we call it 'semen' when we are talking about a crime, or in sex ed class," she replied. "Let's not let language distance us from what we are talking about. You wondered if she had another man's cum inside her, right?"

I nodded.

"What did you do?" she asked frankly.

"I got on top of her. We had sex. She was very wet, but I couldn't tell for sure if... if she had cum in her. I tried to look down, to see if there was any on... on my penis."

I paused. If 'semen' was too clinical.... She sensed my hesitation, and nodded.

"What do you usually call it? Your 'cock'? Your 'dick'?"

"Cock."

She nodded.

"'Cock' then," she said. "Did you see any cum on your cock?"

"She held me tight. Like she didn't want me to look. She grabbed my ass and told her to... to fuck her harder."

I searched Brunder's face for a reaction, but she remained impassive, studying me.

"Did you fuck her harder?"

"Yes."

She nodded.

"And you came in her?"

I nodded.

"Even though that meant you would then be unable to tell if another man had cum in her?"

I shrugged. "I was turned on."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You came quickly."

I shrugged again. "What's 'quickly'?"

"Quicker than usual?"

"What difference does it make?"

She waited silently.

"Right," I said. "'We mustn't waste time discussing methodology'."

She nodded. "That's right."

"I guess so," I admitted.

"And it was a good orgasm? Uncommonly good?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"It was. It was uncommonly good."

"Forceful. Satisfying, yes?"

"I supp-" I stopped myself. "Yes."

"And have you discussed this since?" she asked, looking at us both.

Lisa looked down.

"No," I said.

She turned her look to Lisa.

"Do you remember this encounter, Lisa?"

Lisa nodded without looking up.

"And was John right? Were you trying to conceal your lover's cum?"

The word hit me like a punch. 'Lover.' My wife's 'lover' - it was still a raw wound.

New tears flowed, and Lisa nodded without looking up.

I felt the rage bubbling up. The little slut, I thought, angrily. I looked away. But the airing of these details in the presence of this strange, beautiful woman had the effect of increasing my erection somewhat. I shifted again in my seat.

"I'm sorry," whimpered Lisa, looking at me now, with pleading, wet, red eyes.

"No more apologies," Brunder reminder her sternly. She turned to me again.

"Continue," she demanded.

I took a deep breath and gathered my wits.

"After that, I bought a GPS tracker. For the car. Within a week I caught her going to a strange address when she said she was going to a friend's house for a visit. It wasn't the right house. I biked out to the location I had tracked, and saw the car there. It was dark enough by then, and the house secluded enough - a lot of property - that I could risk skulking around the house. I couldn't see or hear anything. I waited a long time. I saw a light go on in an upstairs window. I guess they liked looking at each other," I said bitterly.

"Let's try to avoid a reproachful tone," Brunder said.