I Want You Inside Me Ch. 01

I should have been stronger, but instead, I just got depressed and almost allowed everything to crumble as I had feared it would originally if people found out about Liz and me.

Surprisingly even Cheryl began to worry and insisted I start seeing a therapist. My company, which never did discover about Liz and me, had benefits that covered the cost and they were supportive while "I worked things out."

Cheryl was understanding, she was still hurt, and wary, and eventually insisted I complete my therapy as part of our agreement to try to rebuild things. I would start and if things worked out, then together we would seek counseling. Most of my co-workers chalked it up to a mid-life crisis, mid-life yes, but crisis was too small a word, I felt devastated, alone, and incredibly stuck; and nobody really understood why, to them, it looked like I had the "American dream," but to me it was my own personal nightmare and all of my "things" seemed to mean nothing to me.

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I had never seen a therapist before and if Cheryl hadn't insisted, I knew wouldn't have gone. After the first three or four sessions I did start opening up and she did turn out to be quite insightful. Initially, she made me talk about my life, from my childhood right up until Liz. She assured me, I could tell her anything without fear she would tell Cheryl. Our sessions became almost pornographic as I related everything to her. Far from being shocked, she encouraged me, asked questions about details, and did not seem to judge me.

My therapist asked Cheryl if she would meet with her and with some reluctance, she agreed. She explained she wanted to know more about our relationship. In my sessions, the therapist, Dr. Brooke Richards, or Brooke as she asked me to call her after our third session, told me my affair revealed a more adventurous sexual side to me than what she expected. Unfortunately, through discussions with Cheryl, she discovered this adventurousness was not shared nor welcomed by my wife.

Dr. Richards encouraged me to try and see Cheryl as sexually as I had Liz, unfortunately when I tried to initiate anything more than just the missionary style Cheryl tolerated, it led to many one-sided arguments and me sleeping in the basement again. Brooke said she supported me and urged Cheryl to experiment and let go, but Cheryl seemed to hate Brooke almost as much as she hated me.

Cheryl didn't want or think she should be speaking to Dr. Richards (her name choice) because she believed that everything that had happened was entirely due to me and my fault. I was the one who had cheated, and I was the one who was depressed, so why was the therapist prying into her life and worse, her sex life.

Brooke managed to convince Cheryl that all of that was true, but if she was going to help me, she needed to understand her and that was the only reason Cheryl very reluctantly agreed.

Brooke admitted to me her process with Cheryl was painfully slow, even to the point of suggesting I should leave Cheryl. Brooke was aware of the guilt, the financial burden if I left, alimony, child support, and scandal; so she agreed as difficult as it was, we needed to find a path through all of this that involved Cheryl.

It took several more sessions to even get Cheryl to talk about sex and would not even listen to Brooke at first when she encouraged her to try sex again. Only because of Brooke's conversations, Cheryl agreed to try to have sex with me again. Brooke told her she wanted her to see sex as something to be savored and enjoyed and it could be much more than simply missionary sex. Cheryl wouldn't budge, and we did have sex, but to call it exciting, to call it making love, even to call it fucking all would have been wrong. Brooke told me to be patient, it was progress.

In the meantime, I had gone from having all of my sexual desires fulfilled by the most exciting woman I had ever met, to nothing, literally overnight.

I started masturbating, a lot, while this took the edge off, it wasn't barely enough of what I needed, so I turned to porn. I watched or read about everything from soft erotica to hardcore, trying to find something to fill my needs.

By accident, I happened to find something that did stir some desire, but I was almost immediately ashamed of myself after watching it, masturbating to it, and then thinking about it afterward.

As soon as I came I slammed my laptop close and went for a run so I could focus on something else.

Later that night, I woke up after a particularly vivid dream and realized I had cum in my sleep. I worried Cheryl would notice, but nothing short of a nuclear bomb would disturb her snoring. I slipped out of bed and cleaned myself up. I was way too old for wet dreams.

The next night, Cheryl and my daughters were at a sporting event for a few hours so I was at home alone.

I resisted for the first hour, but then opened my laptop and watched several more videos and then had an idea. I went into our bedroom and found what I wanted and then stripped naked, put on what I had taken, watched more videos, and had the most powerful orgasm that I had since Liz and I had been caught.

Again, afterward, I felt guilty, and ashamed, and even left the house, walking several blocks before putting the soiled item in a garbage can. I knew I had to talk to Brooke. I thought instead of getting better I was getting worse, and my depression seemed even more overwhelming to me.

In my sessions with Brooke, she wanted me to retell everything, even the smallest details, she said she wanted to know I allowed and desired a relationship with Liz. I explained how it happened, mostly by accident, but I pointed out I didn't resist and allowed my desire to be only fueled by our pleasure, the risks, the sex, and the intimacy. Brooke just listened and made notes.

In one of our earlier sessions, after I explained one of the sexiest things Liz did was to shave her pussy. Brooke liked that and suggested to Cheryl that we add some spice to our foreplay her and I could each shave the other and then make out someplace other than our bedroom. I knew what the reaction would be, but Brooke insisted I try.

Cheryl reacted poorly, really poorly; suggesting that she wasn't a whore like Liz and that we were both adults and why would we want to look prepubescent. To her, the matter was closed. I tried to explain many women and many men were smooth and it was considered very sexy by some. That did not end well either and I slept on the couch again.

In the morning Cheryl was still shocked. She screamed at me it was unconventional, it was indecent, and there was no way she was going to shave me, much less allow me to shave her. She left for work early, storming out of the house without speaking again.

In our next session, Brooke asked what I thought after Cheryl stormed away.

"I thought it was a great idea, I wish she had stayed and at least tried doing it."

"You don't have a problem with being completely hairless?"

"No, not at all," I said, likely a little too quickly again.

"I mean everything but the hair on your head," she smiled.

"Of course," I replied but at the back of my mind, I actually was okay with everything gone and I think Brooke realized that and just nodded with a bit more than a smirk.

"OK, Richard, for our next session, I want you to shave your body and see what Cheryl does, are you okay doing that?"

She could tell I was, and then she hesitated and then asked me more.

"What if she doesn't notice?" I asked.

"I think she will, Richard if she didn't want your marriage to work, she would have filed for divorce weeks ago, I think she wants you, but she just has so much baggage she doesn't know what she wants or how to get there," Brooke sighed.

We were quiet for a few moments and then she looked at me and asked, "Would you consider growing your hair longer, staying shaved, and there is one more thing."

I had longer hair when I was younger but remember the day my father took the clippers to me. At the time my hair had been down to my shoulders and I remember my parents having an argument about me.

"He looks like a goddamn girl, do you know he uses hairspray, the next fucking thing he will be wearing a dress, you said this would pass, it's just getting fucking worse," and he was screaming at my mother. I now remember my fear as I heard his voice again as if it had just happened.

He had given me a buzz cut and had continued to cut my hair for several years afterward; I had completely forgotten about that memory and told Brooke about it as I remembered.

"I had wondered about if something like that had happened to you, do you remember anything else?"

I thought about it and admitted I had been scared of my father and what he might have done to my mother when he was like that.

"I used to wear bright colours and clothes that could have been worn by a guy or girl and my father hated them."

"What happened to them, did you stop wearing them because of your father?"

I searched my memory, it seemed so long ago, like it was a memory of someone else, not me.

"He threw them out the night he cut my hair," I paused, Brooke wait, "He refused to let me wear anything like that again, he made me wear white t-shirts, jeans, white socks, and regular white underwear from then until I moved out."

Brooke nodded; I had no idea where this was going.

Brooke returned to her questions, "So are you okay with growing your hair and keeping yourself shaved?

Then she added, "By the way, what kind of underwear do you wear now?"

"I'm okay with both, and I wear boxers, why do you ask?"

As you know I have been having private sessions with Cheryl, and I am working on a theory to help you both," she paused and then added, "Would you consider wearing men's bikini briefs instead?"

The question seemed unusual, Brooke later told me she had a "working theory" but at this point she wasn't sure and didn't want to get too far ahead of herself.

"What are they?" I really hadn't ever seen them; "Cheryl buys my underwear and I never really ever think about it.

Brooke brought up a picture online of what she wanted me to wear, they looked like women's panties, they were high and tight, looked like they were kind of silky, and before I realized it, I was getting hard and I think Brooke noticed as I saw the slightest smile on her face.

"Yes, they are very similar, if you want you could wear actual panties, believe it or not, they actually have panties for men."

It was then I told her about what I had been doing.

She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful and not judgmental.

"Richard, I think it is okay for you to wear women's panties and to masturbate in them, I understand the attraction, is it a little kinky, yes, but it is very common," she paused, smiling at me, "Richard, after everything you told me, actually I not surprised, personally I think the idea of men wearing sexy underwear is totally acceptable, and you should not feel guilty about it."

I got harder and harder, but said, "I better try the men's for now, but maybe if this works I could try woman's panties."

"Richard, we live in a very repressed and conservative part of the country, if you wear panties, unless you tell anyone, nobody will know, try it, and see how you feel.

It is okay for you to masturbate in them as well, and even consider wearing them to work if you want."

I felt better, but it is impossible to overcome more than forty years of Texas conservatism. We talked about it for a little longer but before long the session was over, she said, "Richard, this is real progress.

"I'm looking for to next week," she smiled and hugged me, that was the first time she had ever hugged me and she held it for a few moments longer than I thought she needed to, but I wasn't complaining.

That night Cheryl didn't ask about the session and I figured I had a week; Cheryl went to bed early and our daughters were at separate sleepovers. I thought about what Brooke had said and decided to follow her suggestions. Shaving would be first.

It was a strange thrill, decidedly something most forty-year-old men, especially in Texas, didn't do. As I walked to the bathroom, I laughed quietly, "I guess showering at the gym is out after this." I remembered the teasing from high school in the communal showers, the way some kids were humiliated by the older and certainly hairier classmates. At least now that wouldn't happen.

I stopped for a moment when I closed the bathroom door, puzzled for a moment about just what to do and how to do it. I did what everyone does, I googled it on my phone.

Apparently, what I wanted to do is called "manscaping" and there were dozens of ways to do this, I fell into a rabbit hole for almost 30 minutes before I decided just to shave.

I stripped naked and paused, I didn't have very much or very thick body hair but I couldn't decide what or how much to shave. Should I just do my pubes or everything? My cock was getting rock hard at the prospect of everything and Cheryl was already mad at me, and I said to the empty room, "So everything it is and I laughed both nervously and excitedly."

I started with my toes and my shins, soon discovering this wasn't going to be easy because although I didn't think my hair was very thick, it actually was when I started to remove it all. I learned fairly quickly though and used a lot of shaving cream and shook out the razor quite often.

I continued up my thigh, having to lift my foot onto the bathroom vanity to do the back of my leg, several times running my hand over my now smooth left leg sending chills through my body and causing small amounts to clear pre-cum to drip in long strands from my cock.

Just as I started on my other foot, suddenly I thought about my running and whether people would notice me having shaved legs, for a moment I felt the beginning of an anxiety attack. Then I realized it was already too late, people would surely notice one shaved and one hairy leg. I thought about what Brooke would say and immediately felt better. I started shaving the other one. It felt amazing as well, part of my excitement was knowing people might notice for sure now.

My legs were muscular but not big and bulky and as I touched them, I was reminded of how Liz liked how I stroked and touched her legs, simply running my hands up and down them and enjoying her smoothness would bring her to the very edge of orgasm and now I could understand why she felt this way, as I did this, I could feel my own body responding.

I forced myself to stop caressing my now very smooth and sexy-looking legs, I thought they were anyway, and grabbed a pair of small bathroom scissors and cut away as much of my pubic hair as possible, taking great care to not cut anything important. When I cut away as much as I dared, I lathered myself and shaved all of the hair away.

I couldn't remember a time when I didn't have hair there, but in about twenty minutes I was completely bare down there, it felt just like when I touched Liz, I couldn't help myself and my cock erupted two long lines of cum onto the floor.

I was shocked, how could I cum so hard and so fast, I stood there for a moment or two just looking at the two small puddles and at the strands stretching from my cock. Without thinking about it, I knelt down and looked at the cooling white liquid and reached down, scooping it with my finger, I brought it to my lips and swallowed it.

Yes, I had eaten Liz's after I had cum in her pussy several times and loved her reaction to watching me, this time this was just for me and I couldn't get enough.

I glanced at my phone and realized I had been in the bathroom for more than an hour.

"Shit"

It was already after midnight, but I lathered my chest and pits and shaved everything, then did my arms and hands. As I shaved it took another half an hour and my cock was fully erect the entire time and actually seemed to hurt it was so hard. When I finished, I looked in the mirror and couldn't believe how sexy I felt, I was also struck by how different I looked.

On a whim, I covered my cock and balls, without looking at my face and hair, I thought I could have been looking at a woman, albeit a very flat woman, as I thought, I noticed my cock leaking precum again. I closed my eyes just trying to picture myself as a woman and I came again, surprised again at how quickly because I had barely begun stroking my cock.

"What the fuck?"

The orgasm was intense, but the guilt, shame, and denial set in immediately. I could almost feel my father's presence looking at me, swearing at me, telling what a disappointing man I was.

My own self-doubt replaced all of the sexy feeling I had only moments before.

What was I, was I gay, where did imagining myself to be a woman come from, I remembered something from my very distant past, about imagining what it would be like to be a girl, but I think everyone thinks that at one time or another. Then I remembered similar thoughts when I was with Liz.

"Stop it," I imagined what Cheryl, my family, and my friends would think, "Fuck" I said and hurriedly cleaned everything up, slipping my underwear back on.

"Time for bed," as I tried to shut those thoughts out of my head, "This is Texas, Richard, you know what would happen to you if people knew you were even thinking about this."

Try as I might, the thought kept reoccurring and wasn't helped by how insanely erotic the sheets in our bed felt on my smooth body. When I awoke a few hours later, I realized I had cum during the night and my underwear was soaked.

"Fortunately, Cheryl was still sound asleep and I slipped out of bed and grabbed my clothes.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

End of Chapter 1 -- Chapter 2 to follow very soon