Relationship Counseling

Note: This story contains infidelity and creampies; if those things are not your cup of tea, please find another story. This one isn't for you.

"Happy 5th Anniversary, you two!"

The clinking of wine glasses echoed around the table amid 'thanks' and 'congratulations' all around. Amanda and I reached out and squeezed hands across the table as our friends smiled at our doting expressions.

Chris started, "We got you something special for your anniversary. It is a little unusual, but we're pretty sure you won't be offended." Sue handed me an envelope that had a flowery script across the front -- "Ms. Nikita, Relationship Consultant"

Confused, we looked at each other while I tried the find the words. "Umm, guys? We really don't need marriage counseling, everything's great. Really..." I tapered off, unsure of what to say.

Sue jumped in, "Ms. Nikita isn't really a marriage counselor. It isn't like that. We know that things are great between the two of you, which is why we think you'd be open to something like this. Think of it as a way of taking 'great' to 'sensational'! My sister gave us a gift certificate to see Ms. Nikita for our 1st anniversary and we had the same reaction. Now we go see her twice a year for a bit of spice."

The looks of confusion and concern on our faces must still have been evident.

"Look... I don't want to say anything more. Please just call her and she'll explain everything. If you decide it isn't for you, let us know and we'll exchange it for 'Plan B.'"

-----

"And how do you feel about bisexuality?"

"Well... um... Doesn't every husband wish to see his wife make love to another woman?"

"Sure... sure. Now how about male bisexuality?"

'Plan B' was starting to sound a little more attractive as I sat on the phone with a woman I had never met answering incredibly intimate questions about my sex life--some questions I'd never discussed with anyone. Others were regarding topics I'd never even considered. Holy crap! I'd never been one to consider myself sexually sheltered.

Amanda and I had talked and decided to keep an open mind, although we still weren't totally sure exactly what we were keeping an open mind about! During my initial call, Ms. Nikita explained that she provided a unique service based on her ability to read into people's individual likes and dislikes to custom-build fantasies for adventurous couples. When she put it like that, how could I back out? Who wants to be categorized as sexually unadventurous?

Thus, here I came to be on a 90-minute phone call getting quizzed on every kind of kink known to man as she teased out my most secret desires. Interestingly, she always conducted men's interviews by phone and women's interviews over a bottle of wine in her home. I had to admit it made sense -- giving each sex their own version of comfort.

"The thought of Amanda with another man... Picture it. Tell me what you're thinking."

I cringed. She'd hit the topic I knew would be in her interview somewhere. I was Amanda's first and it had always bothered me. I feared that somewhere down the line she'd get curious and leave me, so I had tried several times to preempt that curiosity by encouraging her to have a brief fling. She would have none of it.

"Well, I've tried to encourage her to try it several times just for the experience, but we don't see eye-to-eye. She isn't into the idea. She thinks I'm just trying to get her to even the score."

"Even the score? Did you have an affair at some point?"

"No. That is actually the weirdest part. I did sleep with her best friend about two years ago, but it was at her insistence. Lindsey had a really painful relationship with horrible sex and an even worse breakup. She just wasn't getting over it, so Amanda came up with the idea that I should sleep with her to break her out of her rut. In her defense, it worked beautifully and Lindsey is doing great now, but it seems odd to me that she was so open to share me with someone else and not interested at all in doing the same thing for herself."

The conversation wore on from there until she reached the end of her checklist and had finished all of her follow-up questions. Hanging up the phone, I felt a strange mixture of arousal and exhaustion at the end of it all.

I had quizzed Amanda late last night about her own interview and she admonished me for prying. Each one was supposed to be completely confidential to ensure that she got the best information from each of us. Indeed, during our phone call she never gave me any indication that any of her questions were based on what she'd learned from Amanda. As I came downstairs from the office, she eyed me with burning curiosity, but asked me nothing.

-----

Amanda and I stepped off the elevator and stood nervously before a nondescript door in one of the tall, glass, modern condos that were popping up along the downtown waterfront. She had opted for a little black dress that clung to her curves deliciously. I couldn't help but linger over her long, bare legs as I stole a quick glance up and down. I was dressed slightly more casually in dark jeans and a floral button down, but altogether we both looked like we were headed out on a date.

"Ready?"

Nervous nods all around, I knocked and waited. A moment or two passed and the door opened to reveal a beautiful, tall, blonde woman. I looked at Amanda with a perplexed expression then back to the blonde woman.

"Hello, uhh.... we are looking for Ms. Nikita. Is she in?"

Amanda chuckled as the woman noted my visible confusion and smiled. "Yes, I'm Ms. Nikita. You're not the first to be thrown by my name. Nikita isn't my last name--it's my first. I happen to be Russian. You were no doubt expecting me to be Japanese? Was that one of your fantasies? I do hope I don't disappoint."

Nervous laughter momentarily broke the tension. I doubt anyone would ever describe her as a "disappointment". She was frankly quite stunning--the kind of woman that men and women alike tend to notice as she enters a room, perhaps even finding themselves staring a moment longer than would be polite.

She ushered us into the stylish, modern apartment--sparsely but beautifully appointed. Jazz played softly in the background. "I go by Ms. Nikita for simplicity and consistency. One of my other services is as a dominatrix. Perhaps we'll get to that another time." She ended with a cheeky wink that made my mouth run dry. With the merest hint of a suggestive hand gesture we settled onto a long, sleek, black sofa. It wasn't surprising that she had a dominant streak; but I found myself surprised by my eagerness to comply. This was not a woman that ever needed to ask for anything twice, maybe not even once.

As she filled three flutes with pale pink champagne I finally had a moment to observe her. Her hair fell just past her shoulders in delicate waves. She wore a well-tailored, white, button-down shirt that accentuated the shape of her breasts, which seemed to fill out a fine, black, lace bra barely visible through the fabric. A dark grey, pinstriped pencil skirt hugged her hips ending just above the knee. Black, nearly sheer stockings adorned her legs; the back seam drawing your eye down to the pair of black heels that completed her ensemble. As my eyes traced back up her form, I found myself meeting a calm, unconcerned gaze and a crooked smile that let me know I had most definitely been caught.

"To new friends," she toasted before settling into what was most certainly not a reproduction Barcelona chair. She crossed her legs demurely as we sipped the champagne. "I find it is best to jump straight to the question you've undoubtedly been trying to piece out: Just what are we doing here?"

"It is quite simple. There are two things that I do exceedingly well--get people to share their most intimate details and understand sexuality. In our conversations over the past few days I've gotten to know you both, not only from what you told me but from what you didn't. I now know what makes each of you tick. I know what makes your hearts race. I know the bedroom requests you are too shy to make, even the things you don't even yet know you want."

"I craft a custom fantasy just for the two of you, one that taps into both of your secret desires. We'll act it out here once together then you commit to try it at least one more time on your own at home. I create a safe place for that fantasy to take hold in your imaginations. Neither of you asked for it, so neither of you need feel any anxiety about asking for something outside the comfort zone and being rebuffed. You're obligated to ME to try it one more time, not to each other, so no awkwardness there in having to ask again. After that, I'll speak to each of you individually again about your experiences, we adjust, and then go from there. I find that for most of my clients, their new fantasy becomes a steady part of their sexual repertoire. For those that don't, they feel that a bucket list item has been crossed off. I will do no more than two fantasies per year for a couple and I have a 100% repeat client record."

She paused letting silence fill the air as we absorbed her words. I tried to remember what I'd said during our time together and where that was now leading us. I don't know what I was exactly expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. We are going to act out a fantasy together? Here? WITH her? I guess I had expected she was going to share some of what she'd heard from both of us, finding the common ground between our two psyches, sparing us the embarrassment of the things that one likes but not the other. Give us a list. Some suggestions.

I looked over to Amanda and saw a look that must mirror my own combination of arousal and apprehension. She reached out and took my hand. "Wow... um... just wow! That is a lot to take in. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely terrified right now."

We just stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, each of us looking for strength and assurance from the other. "Ok. How do we get started?"

For the first time I sensed excitement from Ms. Nikita. She was obviously pleased and that made me feel good. I could already feel myself craving her approval. "Each of you just has to be yourself. I find that the first fantasy always works best if it doesn't require you to role play someone else. I'll be your narrator and guide and sometimes participant. When we are talking I will lead. Sometimes I will ask you a question. Answer honestly as yourself. Other times I am going to tell you what to say, just repeat after me. I'm going to maneuver and guide your bodies. You'll instinctively know when to be pliable. And when to let your body take over."

"Let's begin."

-----

She stood, took Amanda by the hand, and guided her to a shimmering, stainless steel bar stool at the bar separating the living room from the open kitchen. "You are having a drink alone at an unfamiliar, new bar after a girlfriend stood you up at the last minute. Your husband has a work event that is expected to run until late. Since there's no one waiting at home, you decided you might as well stay for a drink."

She returned for me. I felt a jolt of excitement go right from my hand to my cock the moment she grasped my hand. Leading me to the chair she just vacated she explained, "You are simply another bar patron seated within earshot. Your role here is just to listen in and follow the story, but you're not yourself. No talking, no movement, nothing. Understood?" She turned back to "the bar" without waiting for (expecting?) a reply.

"An attractive woman seated alone at a bar never wonts for company for long. After replying to your friend's text you casually scan the bar taking in the scene. It's busy without being crowded. There are several groups and a few singles, but mostly couples paired off in conversation--a few more getting just a little bit handsy. No more than a few minutes pass before a man approaches you."

She seamlessly switched from being our narrator to the stranger. "Hi... is this seat taken?"

Amanda's voice cracked a little bit in nervousness, "No, a friend was supposed to be joining me but something came up."

The stranger gestured at the chair again. "May I?"

"Of course."

She elegantly slid onto the stool. "Thank you. So, you were waiting for a friend. Your date stood you up?"

"No. I'm actually married. She was just a friend."

"Waiting for your lover then?"

"Ha! No... not him either."

"But you do have one then?"

"No."

"That's a shame."

"That I don't have a lover?"

The stranger laughed with a twinkle in her (his?) eye. I was entranced watching her. "No, that no one is going to get to undress you. My apologies... you certainly look like you're dressed to impress a date. So you were the wingwoman tonight, eh?"

Amanda looked uncertain of what her next line should be. She started to speak, paused, stammered a bit, then paused again.

"I'm sorry. I thought you must know. This place is a bit of a pick up scene. I'm guessing your single friend suggested it?"

Amanda smiled and nodded. "I had no idea."

"So... now that you know--got your eye on anybody?"

"No, no. I'm happily married."

"There's something electric in being with someone for the first time, isn't there? Don't you think so? Each time you took a new man to bed, didn't it totally make you feel alive?"

"Errr..." Amanda stammered.

"That first tentative kiss. Exploring their mouths with your tongue. Their unique taste and smell. You remember that."

"Yes... of course."

"And there's that magical moment where your need takes over. That special instant where your body responds and you just *know* you're going to take them to bed."

"Errrr, well... my husband and I got married young."

"Oh, really? Was he your first?"

My throat had gone dry, so I took a sip of my champagne to wet it. I felt a growing hardness filling up my jeans. Now I had a much better idea of where the story was headed, but I was still at a loss on how or what precisely we would be acting out.

Amanda seemed to be relaxing into her role. She had a slight smirk as she said, "Not that it is any of your business..." She paused and sipped from her flute. "But, yes."

"Surely, you're at least a little curious." It was said as a statement, not a question. Amanda started to speak, but before she could get out a word the stranger smiled brightly and continued. "You aaarrreee." She drew it out as if she were triumphant about her discovery.

"Well, um... yes. Of course. I mean... But I'm married?" Her voice shook as she said the words and they came out more as a question than a confident statement.

"Surely you are at least attracted to other men from time to time?"

"Well, yes. I'm not blind. I do sometimes find other men attractive."

The stranger paused for effect. "So, do you find ME attractive?"

Amanda blushed. There was silence as the question hung in the air. Finally, quietly, breathlessly, almost at a whisper... "Yes."

The stranger leaned in, closing the gap between them a bit. With the most suave gesture I'd ever witnessed she let her hand rest on Amanda's knee. Amanda twitched at this first contact, but made no move to discourage the touch. I readjusted my jeans as they suddenly seemed a tad uncomfortable.

"Were you your husband's first love?" Amanda's eyes quickly stole to me as if she suddenly remembered that I was still there.

"No, he was my first, but he dated a lot before we got married." She sounded unsure and a little bit defensive.

"So, he's slept with lots of women and you've only ever had one man."

Still somewhat determined to defend me, she replied, "Well, I don't know about lots... There were three women before we got married and then one... well..."

"One what?"

"Well..." Amanda looked shocked. I suddenly realized that this part must not have come up in her first meeting.

"Who was she?"

"My best friend."

"Oh my god. I'm sorry. Wow. Your husband had an affair with your best friend? And you're still with him?" I noticed that the hand on her knee had crept up and was now gently pressing into Amanda's thigh.

"No, it wasn't like that. Lindsey had a bad breakup. Her relationship was nothing but horrible sex and he never treated her well in the first place. She had completely sworn off men. She just shut down. So, I suggested she have sex with Steve. Hell, she'd never even had a man give her an orgasm. Um... and, well, Steve is pretty damn good at that."

My cock swelled with blood as my chest swelled with something like pride.

"Wow, that is pretty wild. And generous of you... and trusting."

"I guess. But it worked. She pulled herself out of her rut and is dating again."

"So, you gave your husband a hall pass. Didn't you get one in return?"

"That's the thing... he insisted that I should, but I have never seriously considered it."

"But you are right now, aren't you?"

I held my breath in anticipation. Even though there was only the three of us and the soft music in the background I could barely hear her when she whispered:

"Yes."

"You ever wish you could have that feeling just one more time? You know, the chance to not be married for a night and feel it all one more time."

Amanda was entranced, unconsciously nodding yes. Another breathless reply: "Yes."

"Where's your husband right now?"

"He has a work function tonight... he'll be gone until late."

"Would you like to go somewhere?"

"Yes."

"My place is all the way across town. We should go to your place. You already said your husband won't be home for hours." Amanda was still nodding and agreeing to it all.

The stranger stood up, offering a hand to help Amanda from the stool. She guided Amanda through the living room and down a hall into a bedroom, beckoning me with a finger, without so much as a glance. My mind raced. What was coming next? Naturally, I thought that this might have been the end and we were about to be sent home to fuck like teenagers.

But no... We were now standing in a stylish, but simple, bedroom. There was a large, low bed with a lounge chair facing the foot of the bed. Fetching something from the nightstand she turned and fastened a blindfold over my eyes. As the realization of what was about to happen hit me she moved around behind me and whispered in my ear, "You will not speak. You will not undress. And you will not touch yourself. But no watching tonight. Unfortunately you're going to have to wait another time to fulfill *that* fantasy."

Her warm breath on my neck gave me shivers. I was gently helped into the chair. I heard her move away, presumably back to Amanda.

I heard Amanda whisper, "But I won't be able to see you."

"Not tonight. Use your imagination." Clearly I was not the only one blindfolded. "I'm a handsome man from the bar.... Who wants you." When she spoke again, she reprised her role as narrator and began to supply the play by play of the action my eyes were denied.

"You barely make it out of the bar before he is against you." I hear the distinct sound of lovers kissing, passionately... desperately... Ms. Nikita snapped back into character. "Your lips are so soft."

Amanda's throaty reply excited me even more: "When you kiss me I feel it go straight to my pussy."

"I love how your body feels pressed against me. Your ass is amazing. I love how short your dress is. I love lifting it up and caressing your ass under your dress. Mmm, a bare ass, I adore thong panties. Does it bother you that anyone might see it? See us? Know what you're about to do?"

No hesitation. "No."

"Knowing your husband wasn't going to be home til late you brought this new man back to your house. As soon as you were inside you pulled him along by the hand straight to your bedroom. No small talk. No drink to break the ice. Just straight to bed."