Racial Therapy

Hannah was smiling as she was escorted back to their table. Thomas was just coming back with refills of their drinks, an IPA for him, and a G&T for her. "Damn, babe, you should get out there. The band your company hired plays the best dancing music." She took a few gulps and sat down.

Thomas and Hannah met at Northwestern during their senior years and hit it off immediately. Both had come out of long-term relationships and neither was looking to get back into another but after two study sessions and one coffee date, they spent as much time together as they could. At first, they took drives out of the city, sailing on Lake Michigan, and just walking the city.

This changed after Hannah met some of Thomas's friends. They'd gone dancing and every one of the guys wanted to dance with Thomas's beautiful red-headed girlfriend. He didn't mind as Hannah showed no signs of flirting and he couldn't blame his friends. Hannah was stunning in just about every way. Clearest skin he'd ever seen, and cute dimples which she displayed whenever she smiled, which was often. She had full creamy cleavage, narrow waist, flared hips with a tight ass, and long dancer's legs.

Hannah wished Thomas liked to dance but he wasn't lying when he said he had two left feet. But then again, all his friends were there to take her out onto the floor.

Thomas was content to watch. He'd taken her onto the floor for two slow dances but he was too self-conscious to show his stiff attempts at fast dancing. It was interesting to watch the people dancing. He came up with generalizations about gender and race.

White guys just aren't that fluid. Not all but half the guys out there looked awkward. White girls were better, a lot better, especially Hannah. She was the best dancer on the floor, perhaps he was biased or he enjoyed wondering if her large breasts would bounce free of her low-cut top but he kept coming back to her.

Then there were the black guys. A much higher percentage were smooth and fluid. They seemed a lot more at ease flowing from one set of moves to another. The black girls were the best, aside from Hannah of course, their bodies writhing and flowing as if the music was controlling them.

Then he found himself noticing things he'd never wanted to, the guys Hannah dancing with were all showing pronounced bulges. The guys dancing with the other girls were showing excitement but every one of Hannah's partners was exhibiting a bit more discomfort. He smiled to himself, 'sucks to be you, buddy. Tonight, she'll be writhing on my cock,' he thought smugly.

Then he wondered, if the guys were getting hard, was Hannah getting wet? Were some of his friends getting her hot, some more than others? She danced closer to David, especially with her pelvis. Joe's eyes were glued to her chest and she knew it. But strangely, she seemed reserved and aloof with his two black friends, Chaz and Carter. Both were the better dancers in his group but Hannah danced just once with each. She came back to the table both times fanning herself and telling them she needed a break.

Over the next years, Thomas found himself wondering if his perfect wife might be a closet racist. She always found reasons to cut short interactions with his black friends but never once made a single remark that he'd consider prejudiced. It had to be a coincidence as Hannah was unfailingly polite to everyone.

Hannah smiled at her husband after putting down the cold drink, "I was thrilled you were able to get a job here, I mean, six figures to start? But you guys give the best parties. My company has quarterly boxed lunches," she sighed. "We need to get out dancing some more. I know you don't like it but you like the music and you told me you like watching," she said. Then she giggled, "I didn't mean it like that."

Thomas laughed. "Nope. Not into that. I like to watch you dance but when it comes to other types of sweaty couple's activities I prefer to participate."

Hannah leaned over and hugged her husband. "I'm a one-man woman. Even if you were one of those guys who likes to watch I wouldn't be into it," she whispered.

Thomas held his hot, sweaty wife and kissed her neck, "Good, though there is one thing I'd like to watch," he said as he stroked her ass.

Hannah looked at her husband and nodded, "Tonight. But I'd like to watch you at the same time," she grinned. She sat back down realizing she was bending over in her short cocktail dress, "Oops. I think I should have been a bit more careful."

Thomas laughed, "I could see you were wearing a thong out on the dance floor. So could half the people here."

Just then Mason Walters came over, "Thomas. You should get out on the dance floor. These guys are the best band they've hired."

Mason was the VP of operations and a few levels above Thomas. He was tall, fit, and impeccably dressed. As a black man, he also fit Thomas's observation of being an outstanding dancer. Thomas liked his interactions with him as he was on top of the latest technology, followed through, and always solicited feedback on major projects.

"But if you're not taking advantage of the music, perhaps you'd loan me your wife?" he asked, "that is if you'd like to dance?" he said to Hannah.

Hannah hesitated and then smiled and stood, "I'd love to." She smiled at her husband and then let herself be led out onto the dance floor. She danced close to Mason but not nearly as close as she had with her previous two partners. Thomas thought she'd beg off after the semi-fast dance when the next was a slow dance piece. Her body language looked as though she would but Mason's hand was on her arm and she let him pull her close...close but not touching. She'd been hip to hip just a couple of songs before the Larry. There was nothing inappropriate about the tall man's action, his hands gently cupping her lower back, their bodies inches apart, but as soon as the song ended, Hannah came back to the table fanning herself.

The following Monday, Thomas was making his coffee when Mason came into the common room.

"Thomas, it was good seeing you and your wife at the party Friday," he said. Then he paused as if wanting to ask something.

"What?" Thomas asked. "Did I do something...Hannah?"

"Look, I'm probably reading too much into this, but your wife seemed to be reserved...um, like she wasn't comfortable around me. Is this because I'm black?" he asked.

Thomas shook his head, "I get it but in all the years I've known her never once has she made a single racist comment. I can't explain it but she's always been like you said, reserved around my black friends. I think I should ask her what's up with that. I'll let you know what she says. I'm sure it's nothing."

Mason looked doubtful but nodded, "See you in," he looked at his watch, "the conference room in 50 minutes." He didn't sound convinced.

Thomas shook his head. It was impossible. Hannah was the sweetest, least judgemental person he knew.

That evening after knocking off the dishes, they sat in the living room. Thomas decided to just get to it so he looked at his beautiful wife, "Something's been bugging me for a while so I thought I'd just ask," he said softly.

"What," Hannah sat up looking suddenly afraid. "Did I do something?" she asked nervously.

"No, no...I'm sorry. I'm not trying to grill you or anything, just something I've observed. Look, I'm sure I'm just misreading things but when we go dancing, you dance with everyone but with some guys, it seems like you don't want to dance with them. I mean like with Carter, Chaz, and last Friday with Mason Walters. You just always seem reluctant and rarely do more than one song with them. Is it because they're black?" he asked.

Hannah gasped and put her face in her hands. Then she looked at her husband, "I'm sorry. I really am but it is because they're black. Christ!" she said as she sat up straighter, "I love you and I guess I should tell you, I have this thing about black men...they turn me on and I don't mean that I think they're hot, I mean they actually turn me on. Back in college, I was dancing with Chaz and he grabbed my ass and pulled my thigh against his..his cock and I swear to you, I came instantly." She looked horrified as she said that, then slumped back.

Thomas' jaw dropped. He and Hannah had made love hundreds of times and she never came easily. Often he'd have to go down on her after he'd cum and he couldn't believe that she could cum just by feeling a man's cock against her thigh. "That makes no sense, are you sure? You came...orgasmed?"

Hannah nodded, "The full-blown thing. It shocked the hell out of me."

"Couldn't that just have been a strange one-time occurrence?" Thomas asked.

Hannah shook her head. "Last Christmas at the Hilton, Jackson pulled me close when a slow piece came on and I came again. I tried to act as if I breathed something in but it was another orgasm. Then he pulled me close...you know, he was worried about me and I felt his cock again. I needed to get some space between us so I covered my mouth and coughed. I swear had I felt his cock against me for another second...This is so embarrassing. And it's not right for me to tell you that other men can make me cum just by....fuck!" she swore as she put her face in her hands again.

"I can't believe it...just can't. Have you...um, ever fucked a black guy?" he asked softly.

She shook her head.

"But you want to," he said softly. Not a question, a statement.

"No! Yes...I don't know. No. Not at all. I'd never cheat on you," she said firmly.

"I didn't ask that. Ask me if I'd like to fuck Scarlett Johannson. Sure, but Wanting to do something isn't the same as acting on it. Do you want to fuck a black guy?"

Hannah nodded, "I do...but more that I'd like a black guy fucking me...taking me. I often close my eyes when you're...don't hate me, please," she said.

Thomas laughed, "That's normal. We all have things that arouse us. Again, desires aren't actions. You can call me Chaz when we're making love if that gets you off. Come here," he said. He pulled his wife into his arms and stroked her back.

Hannah felt relieved that her terrible embarrassing secret was out. She loved her husband so much and was terrified he'd think she was sick or a slut but he was laughing it off.

Thomas felt his wife relax. "So what is it about black men? Their skin color, their hair...what?" he asked. "Is it their cocks? Supposedly black men have huge cocks. Is it the size?"

Hannah shook her head, "Not the size, but yes...it's their cocks. I saw a picture of a black guy years ago...naked...erect. His cock was big, sure, but it was so black, so dark and veined. It seemed so powerful I had trouble sleeping my dreams were so bad," she said softly.

"And you want a big black cock inside your creamy pale pussy, is that it?" he asked. His wife's breathing changed as she imagined a huge black cock inside her pussy. He cupped a breast amazed at how hard her nipple was, "He'd be stretching you out, filling up your pussy with all that flesh. That would be ok with you?" he asked. He pulled on her nipple hearing her gasp.

Hannah's head was spinning. In her mind, her legs were opened and the huge inky black head was parting her lips. "Yesss, God, yesss," she sighed.

"He'll push his cock all the way inside you...deep inside. Hitting your cervix...pounding into you over and over, and when he cums he'll..." he held onto his wife as she cried out, orgasming without either touching her pussy. "Wow! I've never seen you cum that fast," he smiled as he held his shaking wife. "Was it him cumming inside you?"

Hannah nodded, "I know there's no difference but it's not just that a black cock looks more powerful. I imagine his sperm is more potent, or just that if I were to get pregnant there's no hiding that I fucked another man," she said softly.

Thomas chuckled, "That would be hard to explain."

* * *

The next day, Thomas went to Mason Walters' office and asked his EA if Mason had a few minutes. She checked and then told him to go right in.

Mason stood and pointed to a chair in from of his desk, "What's up? The Reynolds project is going OK?" he asked.

Thomas nodded, "Um," he looked back at the door, "This is more personal. I talked to Hannah and asked if she didn't like dancing with...um, black guys. She has a problem dancing with black guys but not like you think. She gets too aroused...really aroused. That's all I should say," he finished.

"Wait, you need to say more than that. We were just dancing. I never pulled her close or touched her in any way," Mason said. "If I did something inappropriate..."

"No, she never mentioned anything like that," Thomas sighed, "Please never tell anyone this but she truly gets aroused. She...shit! Look, she'll kill me if she hears that I told you this, but she is fascinated by..." he glanced down at the front of the man's pants. "She told me one time she felt a friend's cock against her thigh and she came right there, right out on the dance floor. A black friend. White guys don't have that effect...and that's been tested time and again. It happened again a few years later. She's not a racist, she's embarrassed with her reaction to the feel of...you know, against her thigh or whatever," he said.

"Wow! I never heard anyone who...but I can see why she's reluctant to dance too close. Has she ever been with...?" he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Thomas shook his head, "She grew up in Connecticut, a small town that I don't think had any blacks. Look, I'll talk to her, perhaps she should see a therapist," Thomas said. "I hate to think she comes across as racist when it's just the opposite."

Mason laughed, "Wow. OK. I guess that's something for you guys to work out. I warn you, though. You realize our CEO and two other Senior VPs are black. I'd hate for this to become an issue," he said. "Thanks for coming to me and explaining it. I was hoping there'd be a perfectly innocent explanation for her coldness towards me," then he laughed, "OK, maybe a somewhat less-than-innocent explanation but an explanation at least."

Thomas stood and stopped, "This is a bad idea but perhaps if she spent time with a black man she'd get over this...arousal thing," he said softly.

Mason shook his head, "You'd regret that," he said, "She'd get aroused and then..."

"She'd want to fuck the man. And as far as I've seen every man wants to fuck her," Thomas said. "Who could resist?"

Mason shook his head. "Not I. Sorry but if I had the opportunity...do the therapy instead." Then he had a thought, "If there were events that would be safe, the board is having a catered dinner over at the Mahogany House Friday. It's a plus one and I'm not currently dating. Just a suggestion. We could drive separately to minimize the potential..."

"Potential resolution of her arousal," Thomas finished.

That night Thomas talked to Hannah and suggested therapy but she shook her head, "I'm not rejecting the idea. I went to a therapist. Remember Dr. Jordan?" she said.

Hannah lost both her parents in a plane crash six years prior and went into a tailspin emotionally. He helped her through that and she was able to deal with the grief. He had no idea what other things they talked about...never wanted to pry.

"He told me it would pass the more I 'engage socially.' That was his term. I asked if that meant date and he shrugged. 'Date, spend time with, go out with, have dinner with...have sex.' He said I needed to realize they were just men, men like any other of the gender."

"And did you?" Thomas asked.

Hannah's head whipped around, "What? No! I'm married, we're married. I'm not going out with another man, black, white, red, purple...!"

Thomas nodded, "I appreciate that. I have a suggestion." He told her about Mason's dinner and how it would be safe to go as there'd be no dancing, no contact. She could socialize and get to know the man.

"And I expect you to be OK with me going out on a date?" she asked.

Thomas nodded, "I think this is something that needs looking into. He's a good guy, at least in my dealings with him and work. And it's a business dinner. If that's not safe what is?"

Hannah nodded but she hated how her blood pressure went up and she felt a pulsing.

The following Friday Hannah came down in a conservative dress. Knee length, buttoned to her throat and Thomas laughed, "Christ, Hannah. You look like an 1880s school marm. You can show a little leg, a little skin," Thomas said. "I think Mason is looking for arm candy at these things."

She sighed and went back up to change. This time, she was wearing a black cocktail dress with pearls. It was perfect for the occasion and not slutty but not prudish either.

"Perfect. You'll be fine. Just enjoy the evening though I am a bit jealous. Not that you'll be going out with a tall handsome man but the Mahogany House is the most exclusive place in the city. They have a chef that they hired away from a five-star restaurant in Paris," Thomas sighed.

"So, it's OK to fuck him if I bring back a doggie bag?" she chuckled.

"You'd do that for me? That would be great!" he smiled.

Hannah headed out to the garage feeling an unwanted throbbing. Just to be close to the man was going to be tough. She imagined reaching over and stroking the front of his pants under the table with the entire executive board sitting by them. By the time she pulled up to the front of the majestic building and handed her keys to the valet, her panties were soaked.

Mason was just inside the door and came out seeing Hannah get out of the car, "Hannah, I owe you one. I didn't have a dinner companion as my usual friend is out of town. I hope this didn't put you out," he smiled.

Hannah shook her head and took his arm. "It was hard to pass on frozen pizza tonight but I'm tough. I'm sure I'll find something here that's as good as that," she smiled. She could feel his heat as his hip brushed against hers. She could feel things throb inside her with just that. This was a mistake, she thought, 'why couldn't it be a fat old black guy with zero sex appeal? Why did it have to be this guy?'

Mason felt eyes on them both as he led this stunning woman back through the hallways to the dining area in the back. He'd be the envy of the board...sadly there was no potential for any after-dinner socializing. The woman he normally brought was also married but her husband encouraged her to enjoy herself and often didn't get back home until late morning. He resigned himself to going home alone tonight. It would be good for him as he needed to catch up on his reading.

All the men at the table stood as Hannah and Mason entered the room and introductions were made. Mason never mentioned who Hannah was and she'd removed her wedding and engagement rings.

Hannah smiled and shook hands then felt both panic and a rush as the CEO, a grey-haired handsome black man indicated the two seats to his left. She'd be sitting between a pair of men who were causing unwelcome arousal.

David, the CEO, turned out to be as charming as Mason was on top of which he seemed to like touching her. He patted her arm a few times and once patted her bare thigh causing her to put her napkin over her mouth stifling a small orgasm.

When the dinner was over, many of the board members suggested a nightclub down the street but both Mason and Hannah shook their heads. "I'd better pass," Mason said quickly, "I've got some work to catch up on."

The men looked at the couple, a few smirking. They looked admiringly at the busty redhead as if she were the work he'd be catching up on. Then the party broke up.

Hannah and Mason came out to the street, Hannah handing her parking ticket to the valet. She looked at Mason, "He told you, didn't he?" she asked.

Mason nodded, "He did. I want to help. I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable."