Mary's Unorthodox Therapy

Alan

The mood was palpable as the two of us sat gloomily at the table, picking slowly at our food amid a sea of deafening silence. Eventually, Mary spoke up.

"Look, we can't go on like this," she said. "I've made an appointment for us with a marriage counselor."

"What? You can't be serious. We don't need a counselor. You just need to behave like a normal wife!" I retorted.

"Not helpful, Alan. He comes highly recommended by Susan Holmes. She said he's a little unorthodox but, according to her, she and Steve wouldn't still be married if they hadn't worked with him. Anyway, the appointment is Thursday at five o'clock. His name is Onslow Lindemann."

What kind of name is that anyway, I thought later that evening as I googled 'Onslow Lindemann'. Mary was in bed, most likely already asleep, as she had been most nights for the past few months. In my mind, this was part of our problem although she, of course, doesn't see it like that. Whenever I challenge her about never being available for sex her response is always the same. She works, she's tired, and can make up her own mind regarding how much sleep she needs thank you very much. Even when she does allow me to have sex it's not exactly what you would call mind-blowing. She'll pump my cock, and if I'm lucky she might suck it for a minute or two, then get in position to be fucked which, in her case, usually means on her back. Mostly she's silent while I am taking her, and I could, for all the feedback I get, be fucking a sack of potatoes.

So yes, my unhappiness with our sex life, and the ensuing conflict and arguments that have been ongoing for months, lie at the heart of why Mary thinks we need a counselor. The really hard thing is that, despite the issues she has with sex, I still love her. We've been married for nearly twenty years and while she may have put on a few pounds since we first met, I still think she is the sexiest woman in the world. She's curvy and, in addition to her soft creamy thighs, has the most beautiful pair of 36C boobs that God ever gave out. You know the old adage that 'good things come in small packages' is true once you've met my wife. She's only five feet two inches tall, but an absolute powerhouse of fun and energy. Except, that is when it comes to the bedroom.

While I didn't want to waste time and money listening to Onslow Lindemann tell me where I'm going wrong in my relations with Mary I also recognized that she and I have been in a downward spiral for months and that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to make her see my point of view regarding our sex life. I therefore resolved to attend the appointment the following week.

Mary

Honestly, I was a nervous wreck as I pulled into the parking spot in front of Dr. Lindemann's building. I'd been practicing in my head, all week long, what I wanted to say but still wasn't sure that I could adequately express the issues that were driving Alan and I apart to an outsider. Susan had warned me that Dr. Lindemann's therapy could be in her own words "well a little unorthodox", but wouldn't be drawn on what she meant. Unfortunately, this only added to the anxiety I was feeling about what I might experience over the next hour.

Alan was already in the waiting room, his face tight and tense, and I wondered whether the anger that had been simmering in him all week might be ready to boil over. I kissed him softly and took a seat at his side, wrapping my hand in his.

Bang on the dot of five, a short, slightly overweight man stepped into the waiting room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?" he said inquiringly, looking directly at me.

We shook hands. His hand felt kind of limp in mine, not, I thought to myself, what I would expect from a marriage counselor. Nor, my mind went on, did he look like I had expected. He was balding, appeared to speak with a slight accent, and I pegged his age as being mid to late fifties

"This way, my office is just down the hall."

The office was bright and airy with the greenery of a multitude of pot plants bringing softness to the room. Alan and I settled, rather nervously, at either end of the white leather sofa, facing which was a large armchair which, I surmised, was where Dr. Lindemann normally sat. Sure enough, he closed the door, strode across the room briskly, and sat, collecting a notepad and pen from the glass table positioned next to the chair.

"So what brings the two of you to see me today," he said, swiveling his head to look meaningfully at each of us in turn.

I looked at Alan as I fidgeted on the sofa. My hands were in my lap and I seemed unable to keep them still. I paused, refusing to meet the piercing green eyes opposite me, as I considered how to respond.

"I guess we're... well, we seem to be arguing about sex a lot," I blurted out.

He smiled back at me. "Well, that's normal for most married couples at some point in their relationship," he responded, exuding an air of calm. "Can you tell me, more specifically, what it is that you argue about, Mary?"

I took a deep breath and looked, rather forlornly, at Alan.

"Maybe Alan should answer that," I said quietly, "but honestly I don't seem to be able to satisfy him. No matter what I do, it always seems to be wrong."

Dr. Lindemann looked at Alan expectantly.

"Is that correct, Alan? Why do you think that?"

Alan shifted on the sofa, turning to look at me briefly, as he gathered his thoughts.

"Ummm...well, first off, we very rarely have sex..."

"That's not true," I interjected heatedly, "we do it..."

Dr. Lindemann looked at me sharply and held up his hand.

"Mary, please. Let him finish," he said, firmly. "Go on, Alan."

"As I was saying, we rarely have sex," Alan reiterated, "and when we do it's always rather perfunctory."

"I see," he said, his head turning to me. "Mary, what are your thoughts about what Alan just said?"

"Well, I'd say we do it around once a week which, according to my friends, is typical and I certainly don't agree that it's perfunctory. That implies that I'm just being mechanical and routine and I'm not. I love Alan and I want him to enjoy my body."

"Seriously, Mary? Are you kidding me!" Alan retorted. "You think a three-minute hand job is what most husbands want from their wives?"

He looked pleadingly across the room.

"Look, Mary was a virgin when I met her. I took her virginity during our sophomore year of college."

I blushed as Alan continued. "Everything she knows about sex she has learned from me."

I shook my head, responding quietly, "Maybe that's part of the problem, Alan. Have you ever considered that it might be you that doesn't know how to have sex and not me? Maybe the reason I'm not into it is that you just don't know how to stimulate me?"

Alan looked shocked by my response. Quite clearly he had never imagined that our problems might lie in his abilities as a lover.

Dr. Lindemann quickly jumped in. "Please. We won't get anywhere trading accusations. Let's have a civil, reasoned conversation around the issues that the two of you seem to be facing."

Alan

I couldn't believe that Mary had just tried to lay the blame at my door and my anger built as I looked at her.

"Okay," I said, shaking my head slowly. "So when was the last time you suggested we try something different? I can recite your script for sex right here, right now!"

Mary looked away, her eyes peering out the large window before she turned her head and spoke to Lindemann.

"It's really not like that. He doesn't understand that I need to feel a connection, that I need to feel safe and cherished. For him, it's just whip it out and get on with it!"

"See, that's where you are so wrong! I'd love to spend hours making love to you but you are always too tired or have some other excuse so I take what I can, when I can."

Dr. Lindemann interjected one more time. "Please Alan. I understand this is a difficult process but please try to hold your anger in check."

He tapped his pen gently against his lips as the silence filling the room grew.

"I think I've heard enough to understand what you are facing. It's obvious really. Your relationship is suffering from SIS." He spelled out the letters, "Sexual Incompatibility Syndrome. It's really quite common in relationships where one, or both, partners have limited sexual experience."

He looked knowingly at Mary.

"Mary, would you agree that you love Alan and have the desire to please him in the bedroom?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yes, of course! Pleasing your husband sexually is something every woman wants. I try, I really do but nothing seems to work for him."

"Alan, why do you think Mary feels she's unable to please you?"

"I don't know, I honestly don't know," I responded quietly, shifting on the sofa to look at my wife. "Maybe because she doesn't understand what I need or how to give it to me?"

"But you taught me everything I know," she responded sharply. "Maybe you weren't as good a teacher as you thought!"

"Okay, here's what I'm going to suggest," Lindemann said softly. "It's clear that Mary wants to satisfy you, Alan and that the issue is that she doesn't know how or have the experience to be able to do so. The solution is for me to work with Mary to understand what she does in the bedroom and to guide her on what she can do to improve."

"You mean talk about her technique?"

The balding man on the chair opposite me shook his head in response. "No, in my experience that is rarely successful. I need to observe and be there for her so that she can see how a man responds when she gets it right."

"I don't understand. You mean you want to watch her and I making love together. That would be embarrassing," I said, turning a little red.

Dr. Lindemann shook his head again. "No, no, you misunderstand me. I will have sex with your wife, not you. She needs to be free from the boundaries she has with you. They constrain her to behave in a certain manner and prevent her from fully expressing the sexual side of her psyche."

"What! Are you serious! You want to get it on with my wife under the guise of helping her express herself. Are you crazy!"

"Alan, Alan, I know it sounds somewhat unorthodox but believe me, I've had great success in applying this technique to the treatment of SIS. I would, of course, be acting in a purely professional capacity."

"Right, you wouldn't be enjoying it at all!" I retorted.

"Your wife is a beautiful woman, Alan. I wouldn't be truthful if I said I'll derive no pleasure or satisfaction from having sex with her. Yet, at the end of the day, I will be providing you both with a therapeutic treatment for SIS."

He looked across at my wife. "Mary, how do you feel about the idea?"

Mary

I was blushing furiously as I listened to what Dr. Lindemann was suggesting. Is this what Susan had done?, I thought to myself. No wonder she wouldn't be drawn on what unorthodox meant!

"Well it certainly sounds kind of out there, but if it helps Alan and I then I might be willing to consider it. What would I have to do?"

Alan looked at me in astonishment. "Mary! You can't! This is totally crazy. We came here to discuss our problems, not to have the therapist fuck you!"

"But Alan, you said yourself that I don't seem to know what to do. Maybe if Dr. Lindemann shows us we'll be in a much better position in the future, right? And it's not as if it'll mean anything, it'll just be a teaching session."

He looked at me incredulously before turning to face Dr. Lindemann. "Are you seriously proposing that the best course of treatment to improve our relationship is to fuck my wife in front of me?"

He looked back at my husband, his face calm. "Well, not immediately, Alan. We will work up to that slowly. Today we'll start by seeing how Mary handles a cock and assess her ability when it comes to oral sex. We'll use the sessions after that to work on intercourse."

I was reassured by Dr. Lindemann's matter-of-fact response. It gave me confidence that he really was intent on providing therapeutic treatment rather than just wanting sex.

"Alan, I think we should do it. I'm ready, I'd do anything to get our relationship back on track." I said quietly.

I meant it. Although, if I'm one hundred percent honest, there was also a little voice in the back of my head that was telling me how hot and sexy it might be to have another man fuck me.

Dr. Lindemann's voice tore me from my thoughts. "Well, Mary, if you are ready, today we'll start by having you get naked and become comfortable and familiar with my cock. How does that idea sound?"

I blushed as my pussy began to moisten. I stood up quickly, refusing to give myself any opportunity not to go through with Dr. Lindemann's suggestion.

"Baby," I said, looking at Alan. "Will you help me undress?"

My hands shook as I tried, without success, to undo the buttons of my blouse. Alan stood abruptly, shaking his head l as he approached.

"Mary, this totally crazy. Do you really think the solution to our problem is for you to suck some quack doctor's cock. Please don't do this!"

"I grant you that his suggestion is unorthodox, Alan. But the two of us just talking about it hasn't worked. What else would you suggest?"

"I hope you know what you are doing, " he said softly.

His large, soft hands opened my blouse and slipped it from my shoulders. I turned and asked him to free my breasts as I graced Dr. Lindemann with what I hoped was a sultry look. A large bulge formed in his pants as Alan undid my bra and my 36C breasts and, by now, very stiff nipples came into view.

He nodded appreciatively.

"You have gorgeous breasts, Mary," his green eyes roaming across my semi-naked body.

I smiled at his compliment and quickly unzipped my skirt, my modesty now covered solely by yellow lace panties. Slowly I looked around the room, attempting to project an aura of confidence while, inside my head, was a feeling of absolute terror.

My eyes locked with Alan's and I drew my panties down my legs, stepping out of them in as ladylike a fashion as I could muster, before turning and kissing him deeply.

"It's alright baby, it's going to be alright," I whispered to him, pressing him tightly against my naked body.

I turned again, this time smiling shyly, at Dr. Lindemann's eyes roamed across me. My pussy was wet and I wondered whether he would see my juices glistening on my bare lips.

"Very good, Mary. That's very good. Now come over here and help take off my pants. Don't be shy."

My heart pounded as I approached the chair. I'd come this far, I couldn't chicken out now, I told myself, as I knelt between his open thighs. Almost with a mind of their own, my fingers worked to undo his belt, then the fiddly buttons on his pants. As I drew down the zipper he lifted his hips, encouraging me to pull the pants down his legs.

"My boxers as well, Mary. We need to get to the meat of the matter."

I took another deep breath, hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxers, and tugged them down. Immediately, a large, fat cock sprang free, pointing directly at the ceiling. It was thick, certainly thicker than Alan's, and had an angry-looking purple head. An unkempt shock of grayish-black hair surrounded the base of the long shaft and a large somewhat hairy ball sack dangled beneath. I stared at his cock in fascination, wondering if it would even fit inside me given the girth of his shaft.

Alan

I felt like I was in a dream. It had to be, because when I looked across the room, my wife of 20 years was naked, on her knees between another man's thighs staring in fascination at his thick and very hard cock.

The man's voice convinced me it was no dream though.

"You can stroke it, Mary."

She turned slightly to look at me before reaching out and wrapping her small fingers around the base of the thick member that bobbed and twitched before her. Her fingers failed to reach all the way around which told me that his cock was significantly thicker than my own.

"Oh, mmmmmm, yes that's good, Mary. Look in my eyes as you stroke it. Just like that...mmmmmm."

I watched as Mary slowly worked her hand up and down the thick shaft, her eyes alternating between Dr. Lindemann's cock and his face.

"That feels so good, the way you twist your hand as you move up the shaft. Very good, Mary."

She never does that when she strokes me, I thought, as I listened to the soft groans of pleasure emanating from his throat.

"You have such a beautifully formed cock, Dr. Lindemann. I can hardly believe just how thick it is, I really don't know if I'll be able to accommodate you," Mary said.

"Don't worry, Mary. When the time comes I promise I'll be able to work all of him inside your sweet little pussy."

I could hardly believe my ears. Here was our therapist telling my wife that he was going to fuck her with his fat cock sometime soon. How could this be happening! The man on the chair looked at me, a broad grin covering his face.

"Alan, I don't know what complaints you have, your wife has the most elegant and lovely soft hands and in my professional opinion deserves an A+ for stroking cock."

I shook my head in disbelief as I listened to him opine on my wife's skills.

"Now Mary, might I suggest you show me how you suck cock?"

I gasped as I watched my pretty wife dip her head and run her tongue down his thick cock. The man in the chair groaned quietly and she, emboldened, pushed the cock back against his belly and kissed his balls, something that she's never once done for me. I watched intently, jealousy bubbling into my throat, as she slowly engulfed the head of his cock with her soft lips.

"Mmmmmm, Mary, that feels wonderful," Lindemann moaned.

To me, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as I watched Mary push her mouth down the thick shaft, her fingers moving softly across the hairy ball sac that hung below the thick root. A loud groan came from Lindemann's lips when she reversed direction, her full lips dragging the length of his shaft. She finished the process by lovingly swirling her tongue all around the mushroom head before repeating the action, only this time taking him a little deeper.

I couldn't believe what I was observing, Mary was making love to his cock with her mouth. This wasn't how she sucked my dick, all I ever received was a few quick bobs of her head! But here she was slowly and sensuously pleasuring a total stranger with her soft lips and warm mouth.

I wanted to shout "Stop! Stop! Why do you never suck me like that," but I was frozen in space, totally unable to comprehend what my eyes were reporting to my brain.

"Oh, Mary, you're doing so well, feels so good," Lindemann panted as he guided her head deeper onto his cock. "Just like that, baby."

His head swiveled to look at me.

"Your wife is a natural, Alan. She really is quite expert at slowly building pleasure," he said, a soft, sly smile covering his face.

Mary was, by now, totally engrossed in worshipping the hard throbbing cock in front of her. Though her mouth barely fit around the thick shaft, her lips moved smoothly up and down it. Her fingers moved in unison with her lips, while the other hand caressed and kneaded Lindemann's heavy balls.

"Mary, oh Mary...I'm going to cum," he moaned.

I saw her eyes flick up, silently acknowledging his warning. To my amazement, she didn't pull her mouth from his dick as she always does with me. Instead, she seemed to redouble her efforts, moving her mouth faster and faster as she sucked his cock like a slut.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Yes!" Lindemann groaned as his hips raised from the chair.

I realized that his cock was, at that very moment, filling my wife's mouth with hot, creamy cum and that she, to my horror, intended to swallow it all. She gagged a little and I shook my head as I watched a small dribble of glistening white cum drip from her lips. Mary pulled her lips from his cock, allowing it to flop, now semi-soft onto his balls. She licked her lips and finally looked across the room at me.