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The Surrogate

By: clarkroberts



Mom had invited me for lunch to discuss something, in her words, "of grave importance." My mother had been ill but I thought she was on the road to recovery. I was concerned her illness had returned. Once cocktails had been ordered she began, "You know I have been ill with a rare uterine infection."

In panic I asked, "Has it turned to cancer?"

"No, and it probably won't" she said taking sip of her cocktail. "But the doctors forbid any sexual relations for at least 18 months."

I was taken aback by my mother's openness and I said, "Gee, mom I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for me, dear, the prescription they have me on have pretty much killed my sex drive any way. It's your poor father, I'm worried about."

My mouth dropped opened. I never thought of my parents as sexual people. I was sure they had sex, they had me after all, I just did not think of them in that way. I was 27, college-educated, married with two kids of my own and nothing in my back ground prepared me for the next words out of her mouth.

"I want you to be my surrogate."

"What do you mean? I don't understand." I said blushing and gulping my wine.

Mother gripped my hand from across the table and squeezed. "I want you to be my sex surrogate. Your father hasn't had sex since I became ill."

"Do you know what you are saying?" my voice raised an octave. "You are talking about incest."

Mother smiled, "I know dear. But let's look at a couple of facts. One, your father needs sex and I can't give it to him. Two, I don't want your father to go to a hooker or start some torrid affair. Three, you love your father and want what is best for him."

"You are asking me to cheat on my husband with my father." I said shaking my head in disbelief. "Besides, I never thought of Daddy in that way."

"Never? I know you heard us making love when you were younger. Your father is a stallion."

Mom knew I could hear what was going on in their room, it was next to mine growing up, and I often heard the passion of their lovemaking. I would masturbate as I listened to the heated sex in the next room. Mother's cries of pleasure would fill my ears. I felt myself get damp between my legs thinking of the memory.

Mother continued, "I guess it would be incest technically, but you are grown woman with two kids. You aren't some school girl. You are young vibrant young women. Look dear, sex with someone you love is so much better than with someone you don't. I know your father loves you and you love him."

"That's just it, he's my father."

"He's a man, a strong, good-looking, virile man."

Mother and I just stared at each as the waiter brought us another round of cocktails. Her eyes were pleading with me. She began again, "He can't go over a year without sex. He'll try, but sooner or later he will give-in to temptation. Some flirting secretary at work or the manipulations of one my so called friends. Maybe, even a prostitute." She got a faraway look and a tear ran down her cheek.

"Don't cry mom. Daddy would never cheat on you."

"Yes he will, sooner or later. I have accepted that. I just want it to be with someone who loves and cares about him. I want it to be with someone who won't give him a disease or try to convince him to leave me."

"What about my marriage?"

"Your father is no threat to your marriage." She said wiping the tears from her face.

"Daddy may not even find me attractive." I said relenting a little.

"Nonsense, your father thinks you are beautiful. You are beautiful you know. I know you worked hard to get yourself back in shape after your kids were born. A trip to the hairdresser and you'd be stunning."

I grasped one of auburn locks of hair and twisted. "You think so?"

"Sure do. In fact let me treat you to a day at the spa, we'll do your face, hair, bikini wax, everything. Maybe some new lingerie, too."

"Wait a minute. I didn't agree to ...."

"Are you saying no?"

"I haven't made-up mind."

"Haven't you." She stood-up grasped my hand a led me out the restaurant.

I called my neighbor to make sure she could watch the kids the rest of the day. I then called my husband, Tyler, telling him I was going to be with my mother the rest of the day and he should get the kids from the neighbor when he got home from work.

The rest of the day rushed by as mother hustled me through hair, nail and make-up appointments. We stopped at a lingerie shop and she had me try on several outfits she kept saying, "You father will love this one," and she purchased each one.

We hurried to her house and I changed into blue garter and black stockings in the guest room. No bra, no panties I would have soaked through them anyway. A see-through blue dressing gown covered the outfit. Daddy arrived home.

I could hear mother talking to daddy as she led him down the hall. "Come here Allen I have a surprise for you."

Daddy opened the door and his mouth fell open. "What the....?"

"Now Allen," mother began, "Your daughter has graciously agreed to be my surrogate until I can have sex again. Don't tell me you don't need sex. After thirty years I know your needs."

Daddy looked at me hungrily, "This is ridicules, and she's my daughter."

"What's ridicules? You have needs that have to be fulfilled. She loves you and will not do anything to hurt either one of us. You've had a vasectomy so you can't get her pregnant."

"Sadie, what about your husband? What about your marriage?"

I walked seductive towards him and grasped his hand, "My marriage is fine. I love Tyler and I love you. This is about you, Daddy; you took such good care of me growing up. Let me take care of you." I place his hand on my 38D breast and reached behind his head and brought his mouth to mine.

He squeezed my breast. His tongue invaded my mouth. I heard the door close as mother gave us privacy. I dropped to my knees and unzipped Daddy's pants. His nine inch cock jumped into my face. Mother was right; Daddy was hung like a horse. My husband just had a five inch cock; I always told him size doesn't matter. I wondered if I was wrong as I ran my tongue down the length of Daddy's dick. It pulsated with pleasure and he let out a groan. 

I couldn't take the whole thing in my mouth so I sucked on the head and jacked his dick off with my hand. Daddy moaned and I felt his dick grow larger in my mouth. "I'm going to cum, Baby girl" I pointed his dick at my tits and jacked him for all he was worth. I was rewarded by several long ropes of cum spurting like a fire hose all over my tits.

Dad was weak-kneed but he helped me stand. He took my see through gown off of me and wiped my tits off and threw it aside. He pushed me back on the bed. I lay on my back and diddled my very wet cunt as he undressed. He joined me on the bed and kissed me on each of my bare inner thighs just above the stocking tops. "Beautiful" he said as he looked at my public hair neatly trimmed into a landing strip just above my glistening, shaven labia. I moaned and my pussy gushed. I came as soon as his tongue touched my pussy. I ran my fingers through his salt and pepper hair as he cupped a buttock in each hand and lifted my pussy to his mouth.

"M-m-m-my pusssssy!" I moaned. Daddy began to finger my puss as his tongue lapped at my clit. After lubing his finger with my juice, he jammed it into my ass. I came again. He judged I was ready. He looked into my eyes as he maneuvered himself between my open legs. I clamped my hand around his horse-cock and guided into my hungry hole. He let out a gasp as he entered me. I came again.

I dug my neatly manicured nails into Daddy's ass as he began to slowly side his dick in and out of me. "Faster, harder. Fuck me, Daddy!" I begged. He looked into my eyes and kissed me deeply. Then raised up on his hands and began to pound my pussy like there was not tomorrow. I squealed with delight. His tempo increased and I actually felt his dick grow bigger and with one last push he bottomed out in my cunt and released what felt like a gallon of cum inside of me. He actually bellowed as he emptied himself into me. I couldn't contain it all and I could feel it running down the crack of my ass. I came again. 

Daddy rolled off of me and lay on his back. I rest my head on his chest as his breathing normalized. "That was great Baby Girl."

"You don't think I'm a slut do you Daddy?" I asked. I noticed his dick was still hard.

"No, Baby Girl. You are extremely sexy woman and I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy." I said as I swung my leg over him and once again guiding his big dick into me. I rode him to two more orgasms before he busted another nut. 

I left him sleeping with a satisfied grin on his face. I quickly showered and changed back into my clothes. Mother met at the door as I was leaving. "So?"

"It was the best sex I ever had Mom. I came five times. Daddy is a stud." I said as I hugged her. "Thanks. Are you sure you are alright with this arrangement."

"Yes dear, remember it was my idea to make you my surrogate. We love you." She laughed and patted my bottom as I went out the door. I walked bold-legged to my car with the biggest smile on my face. Yes I think I will enjoy being the surrogate I thought as started my mini-van and drove home.

The Surrogate



The doctor's name was Elizabeth Sandoval. Michael sat watching her as she glanced through the form the receptionist had given him to fill out. She was a slightly plump dark-haired woman, probably around 40. She wore a wedding band and a diamond and sapphire engagement ring.

Looking up, she gave him a warm smile. "Okay, Mr. Metcalf. Welcome to Westside Social Services. Why don't you tell me a little about why you've come in to see us--and of course, anything you and I talk about here is completely confidential."

It was hard not to hesitate, hard in fact not to get up and say "never mind" and head for the door; but Michael took a deep breath and plunged forward.

"Dr. Sandoval, I'm--I, uh, have a problem with premature ejaculation."

The doctor nodded slightly, inviting him to continue.

"I did a little, uh, looking around, and I learned that Westside has surrogates who work with men with my, um, with problems like mine, so I decided to make an appointment."

Silence. Dr. Sandoval gave Michael plenty of time to say more, but he didn't continue. Finally she said, "well, we do indeed use surrogates in our work here, and in fact we have had a great deal of success in treating PE issues. Shall I tell you a little about how we normally work with men in your situation?"

Her voice was calm and pleasant--Michael could tell she was good at her job. He was already feeling a lot less uncomfortable. He nodded. "Yes, please."

"All right. PE issues and ED--erectile dysfunction problems--are the two primary sorts of male sexual difficulties that we treat. They are very different from one another, of course, but in both cases our treatment involves appointments with a therapist and work with a surrogate, if it seems that the latter would be helpful."

"So I would be seeing a therapist also?"

"Yes. We would begin by setting up weekly or twice-weekly therapy appointments, in which we would assess your situation. Then if it seemed appropriate you would also begin sessions with one of our surrogates. That also might be once or twice weekly."

"I, uh, didn't anticipate the therapy part--"

"Well," she smiled easily, "it's almost always the case that PE or ED difficulties have a psychological or emotional component. It's rarely a purely physical problem, in fact virtually never. Even if it began with a physical issue, we have found that the effects of the problem on a man can be emotionally difficult--and the therapy sessions are enormously helpful in making progress with it."

Michael nodded--he hadn't anticipated this but it made sense to him. "And about how long, uh, would this work be likely to take?"

"I can't give you much of an answer that this point, since we haven't begun getting to know one another yet. It's likely that the work might last for a period of anywhere from a few months, say four or five, to a year or two. Almost always the problem begins to improve within a couple of months--but I want to stress that every case is different.

"I should also mention that, for married men, the participation of the spouse is crucial. We will want to involve your wife at an early--"

"No." Michael leaned forward. "Absolutely not. My wife is not going to be part of this in any way." His voice was intent.

Dr. Sandoval was startled, though her face remained calm. "Okay," she said, equably. "That is of course entirely your decision, although I anticipate we will want to talk about that during the therapy, if you decide to go ahead with it."

Still looking right at her Michael said, "she cheated on me. She had an affair with another man--and right now I don't imagine that the marriage will survive."

After a pause, she said, "I'm very sorry. Was this a ... recent event?"

He nodded. "I found out three weeks ago."

Silence. Gently, she said, "this must be a very painful time for you, and I'm sorry."

Then she continued, "do you have questions for me, or do you want to take some time to decide whether to go forward?"

"No," he said, almost visibly shaking off his pain. "I want to get started, as soon as possible. Will you be the, uh, therapist I work with?"

She smiled and said, "yes, unless you have any reason not to feel comfortable with me."

"No, that would be fine, actually." He managed a small smile in return. Without having any idea why, he had an okay feeling about Dr. Sandoval.

********************

Dinner was pretty much the way it had been for the past three weeks. Michael made a real effort not to let his pain and anger show to the children. Since Amy was 7 and Will only 3, this was not too difficult. It was easy to be his normal self with them--and when it came to Joanna he displayed his usual kind, affectionate manner, though with an expression that would have revealed his true feelings to anyone looking carefully.

He and Joanna hadn't talked much since he found out--that was his choice. He'd made clear that he didn't want to wreck the family, so neither he nor Joanna had moved out. But Michael was sleeping in the guest room, and they were barely speaking to one another beyond the minimum to keep the children's lives running smoothly: the details of school pick-ups and presents for birthday parties and visits to the grandparents.

Joanna had tried several times to get Michael to talk with her privately: to go beyond her initial apologies when he'd confronted her, to explain the circumstances of her adultery, to reassure and comfort him. But she'd gotten nowhere. His responses ranged from a cold "no, I'm not talking about this with you" to simply getting up and walking out of the room.

In fact their only conversation had been short and brutal. It was the day after that horrible Friday night, the night when Michael had stunned her by saying, "so--you and Trev. Tell me about it, will you Jo? How long've you been fucking him? Is it good? Does he make you come, unlike me? Do you love him? Are you going to dump me? What?"

She'd been too stunned and terrified, too ashamed, to manage anything more than tearful and incoherent apologies. And in any case he'd stormed out of the house before she'd had a chance to say much of anything, and he'd slept on the sofa downstairs.

But the next day, calmer although still terribly frightened, she'd found Michael watching a ball game on TV in the living room while the kids were playing out in the back yard, and she'd tried to talk to him, kneeling down in front of him.

"Michael--I am SO sorry. I've hurt you terribly, I've done an awful thing. It was selfish and stupid and I regret it with every part of me.

"Please, please, let me explain what happened. All I want is to earn your forgiveness, to take away the pain I've caused you. Please, can we talk about it?"

She'd waited, kneeling there, watching his eyes drift from the TV screen down to her face, staring at her coldly.

She'd waited for over a minute, watching his silent face. And then in a very quiet, icy voice he'd said, "fuck you!"

She gasped, drew herself back. He'd never talked to her that way, not once in the 12 years since they'd met. His cold rage brought tears to her eyes--and then he was gone, quickly standing up and striding out of the room, out of the house, going out to play with the kids.

********************

Ordinarily in a first session Dr. Sandoval would begin somewhere safe, with some aspect of the patient's life other than his problem. With his marriage and children, usually. But clearly that was not a good idea in this case.

So when they were seated she smiled and said, "first, Mr. Metcalf--how about if we were just Michael and Elizabeth? Would that be all right with you?"

He managed a nervous smile and said, "sure, that would be fine."

"Okay then. Michael, as I told you before everything we discuss is totally confidential. Can you tell me a little bit about your premature ejaculation issue? How long you have felt it to be a problem, how it has affected your sexual life?"

Michael swallowed hard, then plunged in. 

"I, uh, I guess I've always had a problem with it. I only had two girlfriends before Joanna--that's my wife. We met when we were both juniors at Ohio State. 

"Anyway, the first girl I ever had sex with was Carrie Adamson, my senior year girlfriend in high school. She was a virgin too, neither of us had any idea what we were doing, and I came right away--probably within 15 seconds of uh, getting inside her.

"We only did it a couple more times before she broke up with me." He grimaced a little, saying, "she decided the school's star basketball player was more interesting."

"Anyway, it was the same each time--some foreplay, then maybe 8 or 10 strokes inside her, and I couldn't hold back.

"Then there was a girl at OSU. She was a lot more experienced, and when we started having sex my--my uh, control problem really annoyed her. After about five times of having sex, she simply told me I wasn't any good and she dumped me. She made it clear that I wasn't, uh, pleasing her in bed--and she wasn't very nice about it."

He stopped. Elizabeth said, "that must have been very painful for you."

He nodded. "Yeah, I sort of gave up dating for almost a year after that. Then I met Joanna in a physics class, we were both ... we both had to take it for a distribution requirement, and we both hated it!"

He laughed a little, remembering. "I was a lot better at physics than she was, so we had regular study sessions, and then that sort of turned into dating.... Anyway, we've been together ever since, we got married the year after we graduated."

"And how has the sex been with her? In the beginning, and then over the years of your marriage?"

"Always pretty much the same," he replied. "I could never last more than about a minute--maybe two or three minutes if we were doing it for a second time.

"Joanna was less experienced than I was--she was a virgin when we started dating, and she comes from a very conservative family. So it wasn't like she knew that anything was wrong. In fact I was pretty amazed at how little she knew about sex when we started going out together.

"Over the years, though, I guess she's read stuff, or talked to her girlfriends. Because things have really changed. In the first few years when I mentioned my, uh, wishing I could go longer, she always smiled and hugged me and said she loved the way we made love.

"But more recently she's mentioned it occasionally; or sometimes when I've said 'sorry I didn't last longer' she hasn't reassured me or said it doesn't matter. She's acted more like, yeah, it's a problem and she doesn't like it."

Elizabeth was pleased and a little bit surprised that Michael was so forthright with her. Many men took weeks to open up about their problem--even though they had come for help with it, they tried hard to deny it.

As they talked that day and in the following sessions, the story she heard was one that was very familiar among men with PE problems. Michael's parents had been quite uptight about sex, and uncomfortable about discussing any aspect of it with their children. 

Michael had discovered masturbation but had always done it furtively and as quickly as possible for fear of discovery. After once being scolded by his mother who found dried semen on his bed sheets, he learned to use tissues and then flush them down the toilet. He'd never moved beyond feeling that masturbation was pleasurable but wrong, and he'd never learned to slow down and enjoy it.

As is very common, that attitude carried over to his early attempts at intercourse. Because he had not learned to monitor his arousal and change the way he stroked himself so as to delay his ejaculation, he had no idea how to do the same thing with a woman: his excitement simply increased without his being able to control it, until he'd passed the point of no return.

Near the end of their fourth session Elizabeth said, "Michael, I think we're doing very well so far. I admire your openness with me: it takes a lot of courage to be so honest about an embarrassing problem, and I'm very optimistic about our work.

"I'm going to bring in Marina Sultis, who will be the surrogate working with you starting next week, and we can talk a little bit about what you and she will be doing."

As she stood up and went to the door Elizabeth noted Michael's sudden alarm, a very common reaction when this moment came. She opened the door and beckoned in a tall, slim, brunette in her mid-30s, just a few years older than Michael.

"Michael Metcalf, please say hello to Marina Sultis. Marina, this is Michael."

He immediately jumped to his feet and shook her hand, saying "so nice to meet you," being grateful for Marina's warm smile and firm handshake. He realized he was terribly nervous.

"Hi, Michael, I'm glad to meet you." Michael didn't quite know what he'd been expecting, but Marina was no sex-bomb. She was an attractive dark-haired woman with slightly olive skin--he wondered whether she might be from a Greek or Italian background. She didn't have huge breasts or blowjob lips or look anything like a porn star. She rather gave the impression of an ordinary housewife (though she didn't wear a ring), or rather an ordinary housewife with a nice figure.

"At first, Michael, you and Marina will be meeting once a week--we'll work out the schedule before we finish up today. Basically your work with her will have three phases. First, she will be giving you some exercises which she'll teach you to practice regularly on your own, while she monitors your progress."

"Exercises?" Michael interrupted uncertainly.

"Yes, masturbation exercises," Elizabeth responded blandly. "They will help you pay attention to and control your own responses--basically learn how to slow yourself down, to enjoy your pleasure but stop short of the point of no return."

"After that, Marina will work with you on sexual stimulation other than intercourse: manual first, and then oral stimulation. And then, when you are ready, you will move on to intercourse."

Michael was a little aroused and quite embarrassed; he was grateful for Dr. Sandoval's calm and professional manner. He glanced at Marina, who gave him a smile.

"I've been doing this for about six years now, Michael," she said. "Dr. Sandoval and I make a really good team--you'll see," she added.

Elizabeth said, "normally we would be bringing your wife into the process as well, but I've explained to Marina why that won't be appropriate in this case." She noted Michael tensing at the mention of his wife and quickly went on, "there shouldn't be any reason why the work won't go very well.

"In the meantime, Michael, you and I will continue to meet on a twice-weekly basis. Do you have any questions now for me or Marina?

********************

Joanna sat on a bench in the park, watching Amy on a swing and Will happily playing in the sandbox. None of the moms she often visited with were around today, and she had time to think. More time than she wanted, actually.

"How do you spell 'idiot'?" That was the thought that kept circling around in her head, like a scrap of a melody that you can't get rid of, a silly commercial jingle or pop song. She'd had a great marriage, one that wasn't far from perfect, and she'd pretty well messed it up.

And now she didn't know how much longer she'd have it; or whether within a year she'd be a single mom, struggling to raise her kids alone, having to deal with an angry and bitter ex-husband, and wondering whether she'd ever meet another man she could love. Or whether she'd be alone for the rest of her life.

It hurt her that Michael was so angry, that he wouldn't even talk to her; but she couldn't really blame him. She'd seen the other side of it first-hand: her cousin Margaret had caught her husband in an affair and been absolutely devastated by it.

It was while Joanna was in college. She'd flown to Colorado for spring break and spent a week with Margaret, her favorite cousin, while Margaret had wept and raged and tried to figure out what she was going to do.

Margaret and Eric had only been married four years and didn't have any kids, so the logistics of divorcing the son-of-a-bitch hadn't been the problem. The problem was that Margaret loved him desperately--and she hated him and wanted to kill him, and she felt humiliated and betrayed and just furious.

Now, sitting on the bench alone, Joanna was punishing herself, as she'd been doing for weeks. Having seen what Eric's cheating had done to Margaret--seeing the pain and emptiness up-close and in person--how, HOW could she have done the same thing to Michael?

Margaret had thrown Eric out and divorced him, despite his pleas for her to talk to him, to let him apologize and make it up to her. She'd moved to Oregon, found a new job, tried to start her life over. And she'd dated a couple of great guys but hadn't settled down with any of them. When she talked to Joanna on the phone she made clear she was still full of suspicion, not ready to trust a new guy enough to open her heart all the way. 

It made Joanna very sad to think about it: wonderful, loving, beautiful Margaret, who could have nearly any guy she wanted, still living alone, dating carefully, warily, scared to death of being hurt again. And this was ten years later!

What could I have done differently? Joanna asked herself the question for the millionth time. Besides not being a selfish moron, you mean? Besides accepting that my sexual frustration and curiosity didn't give me permission to break my marriage vows and shatter my husband?

The only thing she could think of was, I shouldn't have listened to my friends. What I did was MY fault, not theirs--not anybody else's--but if I hadn't listened to them, I'd sure as hell be better off.

********************

When Elizabeth said, "Marina tells me things are going very well," Michael was startled. He didn't know why--of course Marina and Elizabeth would have been in touch, that was the whole point--but it still caught him by surprise.

He'd met with Marina three times and they hadn't even touched yet. Nor had either of them undressed in the first two meetings. They just talked at first. Marina had given him the name of a book to buy about male sexuality, by a guy named Zilbergeld, and they'd talked about masturbation.

That was kind of embarrassing, but Marina had been so relaxed and professional that Michael could handle it. She said things so clearly.

"What we'll be doing, Michael, is simply retraining you--to be more aware of your feelings during any sort of sexual activity, to sense where you are on the road to ejaculation, and to control it better.

"Most men never learn this as teenagers, because their experiences with masturbation tend to be quick--and frequently secretive. They don't find out how to slow down and keep themselves from coming.

"Later on, many men make the adjustment but a substantial number don't. So that's what we'll be working on together. I'll give you some masturbation exercises to do, which are described in the Zilbergeld book. The point of each of them is to work up to a goal of masturbating for 15 minutes without ejaculating. If you can hold back for 15 minutes, then you've got all the control you'll need."

She described the exercises and told him he should do them as often as he wanted, but at least 2-3 times a week. At their second appointment they discussed how it was going so far, and at their third she upped the ante.

"Okay Michael, today I'd like you to undress from the waist down and masturbate for me, all right?"

"I, uh--okay." He took his clothes off clumsily, nervously, his back to her. When he turned around she was utterly professional, smiling and gesturing to him to lie on the bed. The room they used for their meetings was furnished like a room at a Holiday Inn, not at all like a therapist's office.




The Surrogate



"I know this must feel really strange," she said, grinning. "But it's okay. Each time it's going to get more comfortable.

"I'd like you to do your masturbation exercise, just as you do when you're alone, using the clock to make it to 15 minutes. Of course it will be different with me here--some men find that exciting, others just get nervous. But it will allow me to see how you're doing, and make suggestions that might be helpful.

"You can either look at me, watch me, or simply turn away and forget I'm here--whatever works for you."

Michael had gratefully looked away. He masturbated trying to pretend she was not even in the room. It didn't work, of course, but he made it to 15 minutes.

When he was cleaning up Marina said, "that was great, Michael--I'll bet you never lasted that long before the last couple of weeks, right?"

He nodded, finding himself smiling, and she said, "I'll just mention a couple of things and then we're done for today." And she talked about technique, about being aware of his breathing, focusing on his arousal level and when he needed to back off on the stimulation a little--all the things he'd read in the book, but it was helpful to be reminded of them.

Now, sitting in the therapy office with Elizabeth, Michael heard her say, "pretty soon Marina will begin on the next steps with you. The basic principle is simple: as you are increasingly able to control your ejaculation during masturbation, we'll add more excitement to the situation.

"Marina will begin by taking her top off and letting you see her breasts. Later on, she'll be completely naked. She may have you touch her at some point; and she will certainly take over the masturbation herself, which for most men is much more exciting than doing it themselves. That adjustment usually takes a little while to master."

Elizabeth didn't say any more, but Michael knew what lay beyond: actual sex with Marina. The idea gave him intense but conflicting feelings: excitement, embarrassment, terror. Terror that his premature ejaculation would return. Masturbation was one thing, but actual intercourse with a beautiful young woman? It intimidated the hell out of him.

"I can imagine that you're feeling some unease about all this." Elizabeth was right, of course. "But I want to reassure you, Michael, that you're right on track. Everything so far is going just as we hope it would, and there's no reason to think that the rest of the therapy won't go just as well. We're actually pretty good at this stuff, you know."

She smiled broadly, and Michael found himself smiling back.

"Thanks," he said. "That really does help. I was feeling a little...worried, I guess. Intimidated."

She nodded. "That's okay--perfectly understandable. But we're going to get there."

Then she looked at him more seriously. "We're about done for today. But next time you and I need to start talking about your marriage, and what happened to it."

Michael nodded. "Okay," he said. He knew that this was coming. Elizabeth had been patient and kind, but it was the elephant in the room that couldn't be ignored any longer.

********************

"She called me 'Trev'. We were making love, and she called me by her lover's name."

Michael had walked in for his next session with Elizabeth, plopped himself down in the chair, and launched into the story without even saying "Good morning." It was obvious he was worked up--he'd been preparing to get this off his chest.

Elizabeth would have preferred to hear the story in order, but she just nodded, letting Michael tell it his way. They could always backtrack later.

"We were--I was going down on her. Joanna's ... not all that open, sexually. I guess I've told you she's from a pretty conservative religious family, and.... Well anyway, mostly our sex life is pretty vanilla, I guess you'd say. Only a few positions, and I've never once had ... oral sex from her.

"But once in a while, if we get a sitter for the kids and we go out on a Saturday night, she'll have a couple of drinks, loosen up a little? And when we get home the sex is ... well, she'll let me, uh, lick her.

"Since I never last very long inside her and I can never make her come that way, I'm always trying to find ways to give her an orgasm before we ... have sex."

Elizabeth smiled. "You mean 'fuck'?"

"Yeah." He smiled back, shrugging. "I guess 'fuck' is a simpler way to say it.

"Anyway, I'll...touch her, you know, use my fingers. And I love giving her head, though she won't let me do it unless she's a little drunk. And I got a, you know, a vibrating, uh, dildo? I bought one once and brought it home, but she looked at me in horror and said Absolutely Not! So we've never used it.

"But when she's tipsy and I eat her out she just loves it. I mean, she starts to roll her hips around and moan, and she clutches the sheets or grabs my head or my arms--it's great! I mean, I feel like I'm actually turning her on, really really getting her off for once. So I do that whenever she'll let me.

"So I was eating her, you know, and she was close to coming, gasping, 'Oh God! Oh God!' the way she does, and she went, 'Yes! That's it! Oh God, Trev, just like that!' "

Michael sat back. Elizabeth waited, looking at him attentively.

"So of course I noticed it--I mean, I couldn't fucking believe it!--but I saw right away that she hadn't realized she'd said it. And somehow I managed to keep licking, and I had two fingers in her, uh, up inside her, and a few seconds later she had a big intense orgasm.

"And when she'd relaxed after maybe half a minute she gave me this gorgeous smile and said, 'c'mere, baby,' and pulled me up on top of her like she usually does, and so we...I just fucked her. Like always, except my mind was going a million miles an hour. I barely remember the fucking."

He laughed bitterly. "I probably even lasted longer than usual, because I was so distracted and upset. Anyway, when it was over Joanna snuggled up to me and was asleep in three minutes, like she usually is after she gets tipsy and has a good orgasm. But needless to say, I couldn't sleep--so I got up and went and sat in the living room for a while, just thinking about things."

Now that he'd gotten it out, Michael was calmer, and he filled in some of the blanks.

"Joanna works in the main office of a big pharmaceutical company, as an administrative assistant to a couple of Vice-Presidents. It's an okay job, and she has always liked the people. Well, maybe six months ago they hired this guy named Trevor McDonald. Joanna doesn't work for him, but he replaced one of the VPs that her friend Barbara reported to. 

"So for awhile I heard a lot about him: he's much younger than Frank, brings a lot of new ideas, the staff all seem to like him a lot. And a couple of times she called him 'Trev', which kind of surprised me, you know? Like, rather informal for a relationship with one of your superiors. But I didn't really think about it that much.

"And then I realized that she didn't talk about him any more--for about the last three months or so his name just didn't come up. And now she's calling me 'Trev' while I'm eating her out?" Michael stopped talking and looked out the window. Elizabeth waited. She could see the strain on his face, the pain he was feeling.

"So--so I wasn't sure, you know? I mean, it could have been a fantasy, just some crazy thing going on in her head, she was a little drunk.... But I had to know.

"And I thought of all the other stuff you think of, when--

"I mean, days she was a little late getting home from work, or I called her office in the afternoon and no one could find her, that happened once. And a couple of times she just seemed flustered, you know? Like I asked her some routine question about work or her schedule and she looked startled or frightened for a moment.

"So the next day I called my oldest friend Artie, who works in IT security over at the University. We talked about it, and I asked him to help me hack Joanna's email, which took him all of about two hours, with me helping with possible passwords and stuff.

"And I didn't find a lot--no treasure-trove with dozens of messages or anything. It looked like she deleted stuff from her Inbox and her Sent folder pretty regularly. But I found enough. A couple of messages confirming times and places to meet. One of them was a Saturday, a day we'd planned to take the kids to the zoo. The day before, she'd told me there was a big emergency deadline for an FDA report and she'd have to work that Saturday, she was so sorry, and why didn't I take them to the zoo without her?

"Well it turns out she spent the day in his condo. Probably not working on an FDA report, you know what I mean?" Michael's voice was sardonic. He was in a lot of pain, Elizabeth thought. Who wouldn't be?

"You haven't told me about ... confronting her. And how it's been since then."

He sighed, looked down at the floor. "I got ahold of the emails on Thursday, the week after the night when she called me by his name. And I waited for her on Friday night. Usually after she tucks the kids in she comes downstairs and we watch TV, or just talk--sometimes fool around." He smiled sadly.

"So when she came down I just said something like, 'tell me about you and Trev, honey. How long have you been fucking him? Do you come a lot? What's it like?' You know, really hit her with it.

"And she got this shocked look, she turned all pale, and then a lot of tears, and 'I'm so sorry,' and 'it didn't mean anything' and 'you're the only one I love'. You know, blah blah blah. Just about what you'd expect.

"Although I suppose it could have been, 'yeah, I'm fucking him, and we love each other and I'm leaving you.' It wasn't that. It was all 'oh I'm so sorry!' So I got up and walked out of the house, just went for a drive, you know, thinking and fuming and wondering what to do next.

"And the next day she got me alone and started giving me this heartfelt apology, kneeling down and looking me in the eye and everything. And I just told her to fuck off. I never speak to her like that, not ever, and I know it really hurt her. But that's what I was trying to do, I guess."

"And since then? What's the state of things at home?" Elizabeth asked.

"Armed truce, maybe?" Michael laughed--not happily. "I've let her know I don't want a divorce because of the kids. I'm trying to keep it normal for them, and they don't seem to be upset. Yet. I'm sleeping in the guest room, and we told them it's because I have a little cold and don't want mommy to get it. They're only 7 and 3, so they don't pay much attention.

"And we both play with them and take care of them like always, and I'm never cold or rude to Joanna in front of them. When they're not around we pretty much don't talk, beyond 'we need milk' and 'can you take them to the dentist on Tuesday' and 'don't forget the party at the Pearsons' house next week'."

He and Elizabeth talked about it more, then and in his next session. About how their marriage and their sex life were before the affair. The short answers there were, really good and not so good. Michael was deeply ashamed about his premature ejaculation problem--it made him feel like less than a man. As an inexperienced bride Joanna hadn't known any better, and since he tried hard to please her with his fingers and with his mouth (when she let him), she always seemed satisfied--at first.

Later on, Michael said, it had definitely changed. "Like I told you before--I don't know whether it was because she'd read things, or talked to her girlfriends about their sex lives, or what. I just know that she became much more aware that most guys could, uh, go longer--and I could tell it disappointed her.

"She didn't say anything harsh, but she didn't reassure me either. Mainly just changed the subject. I tried things, read up on PE, brought home a vibrator--I told you about that, she flat-out rejected it, didn't even want to see the thing."

When Elizabeth asked him about the future, how he saw it, Michael got angry.

"I'll be damned if I know. I mean, I just refuse to be a divorced dad who never sees his kids. I adore Amy and Will and I'm a good father. I'm not doing that 'Wednesday night plus every other weekend' crap! And me living in some dingy apartment, while she keeps the house and gets to have boyfriends sleep over? FUCK that!"

He sat back, looking across the room at nothing. She could sense the anguish he was feeling.

"On the other hand.... I mean, right now we're living like roommates. Tense ones. We don't touch, there's no affection or trust, at least not from me. I'm pissed-off all the time, and Joanna's walking around on egg-shells, looking at me with these fucking sorrowful eyes.

"I can't see this continuing--not until the kids are out of the house!" He laughed. "For Will, that's like fifteen years! No, it can't go on like this."

Looking at Elizabeth he said, "I was hoping you could tell me what to do." It was a joke, but she could tell that he partly meant it. It was a common wish of therapy patients, an unconscious or semi-conscious wish that the therapist would just "fix things." A wish that could never come true.

********************

Joanna caught him on a Sunday afternoon, just after he put Will down for a nap. Their little boy still took naps many days, and he loved it when his daddy tucked him into bed. Amy was at her friend Iris's pool party.

"Michael, could we talk for a minute?"

He didn't have any good reason to refuse, so they went out and sat on the deck.

"Back when this all ... when you--" she stopped, and tried again.

"When you found out about my affair, you said that you weren't going to move out, that you weren't ready to divorce me. And you haven't said anything about it since then, and it's been nearly three months, so I guess that hasn't changed.

"But you're still in the guest room, and we're still ... not touching, let alone anything more than that. And you're still furious at me, and I still feel awful about what I did."

He was looking away but listening to her, not saying anything.

"So I was thinking--we're still here living together, maybe we could start trying to talk a little bit, see if we can't make it easier for each other, maybe a little less strained.

"I know you--you're not ready to forgive me or anything, and I don't blame you. But if we could at least talk--"

"I guess that's okay." He interrupted her. "But not about whatever you want, whenever you want. If there's something I don't want to talk about, that's it--I'm not talking about it." He was looking at her now, not angrily but seriously.

"Thank you, Michael--that's fine," she said. "And I want to start by telling you something. I've begun seeing a therapist. Her name is Agnes Lufield, and I've been going twice a week for a couple of months now. I knew I had to figure out why--"

Her voice suddenly broke, and she took a deep breath. "Why I could do such a terrible thing, betray our marriage the way I did."

"Is it helping?" he asked. He was thinking of his own therapy, of his sessions with Elizabeth and the surrogate work with Marina. Joanna didn't know anything about that, and he had no intention of telling her.

She laughed a little. "Yes and no. It certainly hasn't made me feel better about myself--worse, if anything. But I'm starting to understand a few things--one of them is how screwed-up I was in my attitudes about sex, thanks to my parents."

He nodded. That was certainly no surprise.

"Anyway, I just ... I wanted you to know. To know that I wasn't just sitting around feeling guilty, I was trying to do something about it."

She turned to him and took his hand, looking imploringly at him. "Michael, I'm so sorry! I know that what I did--"

He pulled away. "Joanna, I don't want to hear your apologies. They only make me angrier, okay?" He got up and paced around for a minute, then returned.

"You're right about us talking. That's a good idea. Let's try to talk more, about the kids, and vacation plans--stuff like that. But spare me the 'oh I'm so sorry honey', okay?"

She nodded and said, "okay, Michael."

"Good." He sat back. "Actually, I've been thinking about our vacation. Way back around Christmas we talked about a week at Disney World. Do you still want to do that? I think the kids would love it."

She smiled broadly and said, "oh yes, that would be terrific!" They talked about it for a few minutes, then went inside to get the Daily Planners each of them carried for work. 

When they returned to the deck Joanna said, "Michael, I have to tell you one other thing. I don't want to wait."

He looked at her and she said, "Trevor is gone. He left the company, took a job out west. Barbara said it was in Colorado, I think, but I don't know for sure and I don't care."

Very quietly he said, "when did this happen?"

"About a month ago. But I hadn't ... I stopped having any contact with him after you ... found out. I sent him an email saying I wouldn't see him or talk to him any more, and I didn't want him to contact me."

Michael knew this was true. He was still checking Joanna's email account and he'd seen the message. It was short and blunt, along the lines of "This was a mistake, and I can't see you anymore. I'm sorry. Please don't contact me ever again. Joanna"

Joanna was still talking to him. "I thought that maybe ... maybe you'd tell me I had to quit my job, so I wouldn't be around him anymore. But you didn't say anything about it; and I was afraid if you divorced me I'd really need the job.

"And then I found out he was leaving, so..."

She waited. Finally Michael shrugged and said, "well I'm glad he's gone. Saves me the trouble of having to go out and run him over with my car."

She knew he was kidding, but maybe not quite 100%. He had a tight, closed look on his face, as though he was actually thinking about doing it.

Suddenly he said, "so when was the last time you fucked him?"

Joanna gasped, both at the question and at his use of the crude word.

"A few days before you told me you knew about it. I swear, Michael, since then I was never alone with him, not even for five seconds!"

She looked at him imploringly, squeezing her hands together. And he stared hard at her, some of the anger he was carrying around inside him visible in his eyes.

And then he shook it off, and said, "okay--Disney World. I was thinking that either of the first two weeks of August might work...."

They talked about it for another fifteen minutes, having the kind of conversation any ordinary married couple might have. It made Joanna happy--so happy she almost started to cry. But she also knew not to make too much of it. Michael still wasn't kissing or holding her, and he'd still be sleeping in the guest room.

And in two weeks or a month or three months, he might decide the Hell with it and tell her he was divorcing her.

********************

The work with Marina went on, with occasional set-backs but overall steady progress. When Michael could comfortably masturbate on his own for 15 minutes, she had him do it in front of her while she undressed; at first she was topless, then totally naked. 

He handled that surprisingly well. But the first time she lay on the bed and masturbated next to him, his come shot into the air almost right away. He was embarrassed and disheartened, and Marina cheered him up.

"Don't give it another thought, Michael. Really--a hot chick lying next to you, playing with her pussy and moaning? You're supposed to get excited!" She grinned at him.

Smiling back, he said, "you are hot, you know--you have the most beautiful body. Your breasts are--" He stopped, looking unhappy.

She took his hand gently. "You were going to compare them to your wife's, right?" He nodded, looking away.

"That's okay, Michael--I'm flattered. You find her exciting, don't you?"




The Surrogate



"I did. Until I found out what she'd been doing. Now I can't even think about sex with her without wanting to strangle her. When I masturbate I never fantasize about her. It's hot movie stars or a couple of women at work, or--" ducking his head, "well, you, actually."

She smiled again. "I should hope so! I'm a pretty good-looking lady, and you get to see me naked every week, and now playing with myself! You'd better fantasize about me, buster!"

They both laughed, and went to get cleaned up. He liked her and trusted her, and realized that he didn't feel so ashamed with her. She was good at her job, he thought.

In about a month he got so he could watch her play with herself and still maintain control, shortening or slowing his strokes or changing his grip, and go the full 15 minutes. It was hot as hell watching her get herself off. Once or twice when he imagined himself fucking her he still came too soon, but about 90% of the time he was fine.

When they moved to her jerking him off it was a big jump, and he had some quick ejaculations at first. She was back to being fully dressed, but her soft hands were still incredibly exciting. But with her steady encouragement and his practice at home, he was soon lasting 15 minutes, and enjoying the incredible pleasure of what she did to him.

Things progressed steadily after that. Her clothes came off again and she masturbated him naked. Then, for the first time, he touched her, playing with her breasts while she did him. THAT set him off within a minute the first time--but she reassured him, told him not to be surprised or unhappy.

They kept working on it; and by the six-month mark of his treatment, Marina and Michael were lying side by side, masturbating each other, their bodies rubbing against one another. It felt like the most exciting sex he'd ever had in his life. A few times he only lasted two or three minutes, but he was getting better and better at making it all the way to 15. And he adored making Marina come with his fingers, hearing her little whimpers, quite different from the sounds he was used to with Joanna.

She'd always say, "thank you baby, that was great," and give him a kiss on the cheek when he was ready to leave. One time she made sure they had "the conversation."

"Michael, I need to say something, though I'm sure you know it already."

"Okay?"

"Well, it's just... You can tell I have fun with you, right? I mean, I get very excited, and that's for real, nothing fake about it?"

He nodded, smiling, and she said, "and I'm fond of you. I think you're a really good person, and it makes me very happy that I'm helping you feel better about yourself, sexually.

"But ... but this isn't any sort of romance, okay? You're a client I like a lot, but you're still a client, not a boyfriend or a future boyfriend. And the sex we have can be fun, it can be really hot, but it's work, it's therapy."

She stopped, looking at him. He said, "I get it, Marina.

"Not that I couldn't ... I mean, I could certainly imagine falling in love with you. But I know that's not what's going on here. I like you, and you're sexy as hell! And you always treat me so, with such respect, you're so supportive.

"But I know what you're saying. I won't fall for you, I promise."

"Okay, Michael." She grinned at him. "Thanks for that. Now give me a hug, and off you go."

********************

Agnes Lufield said, "Joanna, you've told me parts of it--you've certainly said over and over again how sorry you are, how much you wish you hadn't had sex with Trevor, that you know you've hurt your husband terribly, that you're worried about your marriage.

"But we've been dancing around the real question a bit, the question of why you did it."

Joanna nodded, looking unhappy. Agnes was tall and skinny, with somewhat pursed lips that made her look a little prune-faced. She was probably in her early 50s and unmarried, judging from her bare left hand. She was not a very pleasant-looking person, but Joanna had realized nearly at once how smart she was.

"I've been thinking about this, Agnes. I know I've been ... kind of ducking it. And I guess I think it was ...

"Well, don't take this the wrong way--I'm not trying to dodge responsibility. I did this, I messed up my marriage. But it was kind of, well, almost the Perfect Storm. A bunch of things all came together at the same time and, I don't know, pushed me over the edge."

Agnes nodded. She was a good listener. She gave Joanna time, she paid close attention, and she didn't let her patient get away with anything.

"One thing was those conversations I've told you about with Lucy and Christine. They've been my best friends since high school and we tell each other pretty much everything. Only, they're both unmarried, and much less--I guess I should say much less uptight than I am.

"They love to talk about sex, like I've told you: their latest boyfriends, and who's good in bed, or uh ... you know, large?"

Agnes smiled. "Well-hung?"

Joanna nodded, obviously uncomfortable. "So, anyway, they love to tease me too, about how I'm the married lady who's getting all the sex I can handle, how great it must be to never be without a ... a hard penis--"

"You can say 'cock,' Joanna. I've heard it before.

"In fact we've talked about this, you and I. About how part of feeling more comfortable sexually is allowing yourself to talk about it the way adults do. Penis and vagina are perfectly nice words, and so is sexual intercourse. But it's okay for grown men and women to say cock and cunt, and fuck. And asshole and pussy. And blowjob..."

Joanna's face was beet-red, but she was laughing. "I know, I know! Okay, I'll try.

"So both Lucy and Christine have met Michael, of course, and they think he's a really nice guy. In fact all my friends love him, they're always telling me how lucky I am.

"But Christine started seeing a new guy named Dell, who apparently can, uh, go for a really long time? Without, you know, coming. And she just couldn't stop talking about him.

"She'd say, 'you know what I mean, right Joanna? That DELICIOUS feeling, when you KNOW you're gonna get off, because the guy is able to last forever. So you don't have to worry about 'ohmyGod I better hurry up and get my orgasm because he's gonna come any second!' You can just lie back and ENJOY it. I'm sure you know what I mean, with Michael? I mean, you old married guys are so used to each other....

" 'Anyway, Dell can fuck me for, I don't know, like half an hour! Nothing makes him come until he's ready! So I can twist and hump and move just the way I need to, and know that sooner or later I'm gonna get off like CRAZY!'

"And then Lucy just laughs and says, 'stop it Christine, we're both getting our panties wet here, aren't we Joanna?' And we all laugh--and I'm thinking, 'wow, I've never had anything like that in my life.' "

She leaned forward. "Because you know, Agnes, I've told you--Michael is just the opposite. He usually lasts about a minute; maybe longer if we do it a second time, but never longer than a few minutes. And I never once had an orgasm while we were, uh--" 

"Fucking."

"Yes, fucking. Like I told you, he's always been great about making me come with his hands, or his ... with his mouth whenever I let him, which was usually only after I had a few drinks. Otherwise I was always too embarrassed to ...

"Let him lick your cunt." Agnes smiled.

"Yeah. I mean, I know it's ridiculous. When he, uh, licks me--when I let him--I always have a terrific orgasm. But it just feels dirty to me, and unless I'm a little drunk I'm always too ..." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Anyway--he's considerate and loving, and always satisfies me during foreplay, one way or another. But he ... comes so quickly, that I never even came close to having an orgasm while we were ... fucking. And listening to Christine go on and on about Dell, it made me wonder.

"It made me more than wonder--it made me feel cheated. I wanted some of that! I don't mean Dell, but orgasms from fucking. And so I was a little more impatient with Michael, not so supportive when he fretted about his premature ejaculation. I wasn't exactly mean or anything, but ... I stopped being so understanding."

Agnes said, "you mentioned a Perfect Storm. So, that was one thing: listening to Christine talk about her lover Dell. What else was there?"

Joanna said, "Michael brought home a, a penis-shaped vibrator once. A long time ago, maybe a couple of years. Because, like I said, he always wanted to please me, and he worried about ... about his not satisfying me during intercourse.

"But when I saw it just freaked! I mean, you know about my family and my upbringing--something like that is so far beyond the pale. And I was sort of mean to Michael about it, I felt bad afterwards. I acted like he was some sort of pervert for even bringing it home. And he got very quiet and just put it away somewhere, and we tried to make love that night but it didn't go very well.

"I apologized to him a couple of days later, but I know I hurt his feelings.

"Anyway, after all these conversations with Christine I remembered the vibrator, and one day when I was home alone I searched until I found where Michael had hidden it, wrapped up in a bag at the very back of a desk drawer, and I ..."

She looked abashed. "I tried it out. I pretended it was Dell, or some fantasy guy who could ... go for a long time, and I uh, fucked myself with it. I probably did it for an hour, and had a couple of the most amazing orgasms of my life!

"I've told you, I didn't know anything about masturbation growing up, and even as an adult I'd only done it a few times, feeling really embarrassed about it. But the vibrator just blew my mind! I mean I love the orgasms that Michael gave me, but to be able to come with this hard thing thrusting in and out, steadily, filling me...

"So for a few weeks I went sort of crazy. I kept it a total secret from Michael, and we were still having our regular sex a couple of times a week--but in secret I was making myself come with the vibrator at least that often, whenever I could sneak an hour. Sometimes when Amy was at school and Will was napping. And I was always fantasizing about some ... anonymous man, usually, like Christine's Dell, who could go and go and go ...."

"And during that time sex with Michael was more and more disappointing, as you can imagine. He'd use his fingers and make me come, and it was nice; and then we'd fuck and it would be over in such a short time, before I could get anywhere near working up to another orgasm. And I'd lie there and think about the vibrator, and my mystery man, and just wish that Michael could last longer.

"It had been that way for our whole relationship, but now it was bothering me much more than it ever had before."

Joanna went on to tell Agnes about how Trevor McDonald had joined the company at exactly that time. He was handsome and funny, very informal, and within a couple of weeks a lot of the women at work had the hots for him.

"So for a while he became my mystery man, when I was using the vibrator. And then I started to notice that he was flirting with me sometimes at work. We didn't work directly together so I didn't see him all that much, but there was no doubt--he'd wink at me or make a joke, or look into my eyes and tell me how the color of my blouse was perfect for my complexion. You know--not a pass exactly, but making no doubt he was interested.

"And nothing else happened, but I have to admit I loved it! I felt like a tired old married lady most of the time, with work and the two kids and the house and all, and here was this hot guy making clear how attractive he thought I was.

"And then came the week of the Company Retreat to Kentucky Lake. The founder of the company owns a big resort hotel down there, and every two years the entire company goes for a four-day weekend, with spouses but no children. It's really fun and a great getaway. Michael and I have been three times, and it's always really relaxed and romantic. We hang out with my coworkers but there's lots of time for, uh, private time. Making love, I mean.

"So we were planning to go, like always, and my parents were coming to stay with the kids. And then the Monday before, Michael came home and told me he couldn't go. His company got an emergency order from Japan, the biggest order in their history--like enough to triple their annual sales. And everyone was on 12-hour shifts and no days off for the next two weeks, including supervisors.

"I got kind of angry and we had a nasty fight about it. He was disappointed but didn't understand why I was so upset--it was his job and there wasn't anything he could do about it! So things got a little cold. And we didn't have sex, or cuddle or anything, between that day and Thursday when I left."

"And I'm guessing that your affair with Trevor started at the Retreat?"

Joanna nodded unhappily. "I was angry, and determined to have a good time. So I drank kind of a lot, and danced and flirted way more than I usually do. Nothing outrageous or slutty, but I guess I acted like a single woman.

"When I think back on it, I realize Trevor was very deliberate about it. At the Friday night dance he danced several times with me, but never too close, never took any liberties that I or anyone else would think were over the line. And I danced with a lot of other guys too.

"But he was always around, and he got me another drink a couple of times. And when a bunch of us were ready to go to bed, around maybe 1 am, he was part of a group of six or so that wandered back to where the hotel rooms were, and a couple of times he bumped his hand against my hip, just casually."

Joanna looked at Agnes. "And it felt electric. I still remember it. It was a turn-on, those casual touches.

"Anyway, when we got to my door there were still four of us, and Trevor and the other two people said good night and went on their way, and I kind of stumbled inside and sat on the bed for a minute. I was drunk, and a little turned-on. I finally stood up again and got undressed and brushed my teeth, and I was just coming out of the bathroom when there was a knock on the door.

"I looked through the peephole and it was Trevor. So I opened the door, a little confused, and he just stepped inside, closed the door and took me in his arms. He gave me a big kiss, holding me tightly, powerfully. And I was drunk and I just melted into it. We kissed and kissed.

"And then he just picked me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed and put me down. He stood over me and said, 'you want this too, Joanna, don't you?' And in no time he had his shoes and pants and shirt off and his big, uh, hard-on was sticking straight out at me.

"He got on the bed and took me in his arms and I could feel it pressing against my thigh, through my nightie. It was so hot! And he said, 'do you want me as much as I want you? You have to tell me, you have to say yes.' "

Joanna was looking down at the floor. "And I said, 'yes, yes I want you!' At that moment, I did. I was drunk, and his body turned me on, and I wanted to have sex with him. I wanted to fuck him!" She said it almost defiantly, lifting her head to look at Agnes.

"So I fucked him, or I guess he fucked me. He pulled my nightie off me and ran his hands all over me, and in no time he was up on top of me and his, his cock was pushing inside me.

"And I was so excited! He was the only man besides Michael that I'd ever been with. And he fucked me for a long time, just like my mystery vibrator man. I don't know how long, but I realized pretty soon that he wasn't like Michael, he wasn't going to come right away, so I relaxed and really got into it. And I had a fantastic orgasm with him--it built and built and then it just exploded all through me.

"And even then he didn't come! He rode me through it, and when I relaxed he smiled down at me, and we kissed, and then he fucked me for another little while until he came.

"And when he was done he lay with me for a little while, and then got dressed and kissed me goodnight and quietly left the room. And I lay there, exhausted and still pretty drunk and unbelievably satisfied. Not guilty yet, just sort of stunned.

"It wasn't until the next morning that the guilt started. I felt ashamed--dirty. I showered and scrubbed myself, I cried so hard I could barely cover it with my make-up. I was a slut! I was exactly the kind of woman my parents had always lectured me about!"

For the rest of the weekend Joanna had been pretty miserable. She was terrified of how Trevor would act when he saw her, but he smiled in the usual way and made no reference, however subtle, to what they'd done the night before. That eased her mind, and she somehow made it through the rest of the retreat.

When she got home she had a tearful reunion with Michael, apologizing for being so cold the previous week. They made love three nights in a row and she was sure that he was happy and unsuspecting, though for her the fucking was frustratingly brief, as always.

Agnes said, "you've always used the word 'affair', Joanna, not 'fling' or 'one-night stand.' So I'm assuming that your relationship with Trevor resumed at some point?"

"That's what I feel really ashamed about. A one-night thing, away from your spouse, too much to drink--all that is bad, but not nearly as bad as ... as what I did.

"I didn't have any intention of ever letting Trevor near me again. But I was, I was masturbating constantly, with the vibrator, reliving what we'd done and having amazing orgasms. I felt guilty about even doing that, but it didn't make me stop.

"And about five weeks later there was a sales conference downtown and nearly everybody in the company was there. I didn't go because I had some contracts to finish for one of the guys I report to, so I was working in what I thought was a completely empty office--nobody else around at all.

"And about 2:30 I looked up at the sound of footsteps and there was Trevor, giving me a big smile. He said he needed help with something in his office and asked me to come back there with him.

"I was suspicious, but ... but a little excited too, I guess. Even though I swore I wouldn't let anything happen. But when I came into his office he closed and locked the door behind me, and undid his pants. Just let them drop, and there was his ... cock, as big and hard as before.

"And he said, 'the last time was amazing, Joanna--I know it and you know it. You can walk out of here now and I won't stop you, or we can see if it will be even better this time.' And he came over and kissed me, but real gently, his dick poking me.

"I didn't say anything--but I didn't say No. I didn't unlock the door and run out of there. And I let him lead me over to the couch. He undressed me and pulled his shirt off and..." 

She shrugged. "We fucked again. I was there with him maybe an hour and a half and we did it twice. And each time it was as incredible as the night on the retreat--it went on and on and I came really, really hard."

There were tears on Joanna's face. "And after that I was just lost. I felt guilty and awful; I felt like a prostitute. But I didn't stop.

"I saw him maybe six more times before Michael found out. We'd separately schedule long lunches outside the office and meet at his condo, which was only ten minutes away. Once or twice I told Michael I had to do some overtime and spent a couple of hours with Trev."

She grimaced. "The absolute worst was a Saturday. Trev talked me into it, but I didn't say no. Michael and I had planned a trip to the zoo with the kids, and the day before I lied to him, told him an FDA emergency report was due and a lot of money was riding on it and I had to work all day.

"And then I went to Trevor's condo and we had sex for six hours. We probably did it five times--in the shower, on his bed, once on his kitchen table. I was a total slut. It was like my honeymoon with Michael, except that I was a terrified virgin then, not open to trying much.




The Surrogate



"Aimee, don't shut down on us. This is the path to a better life."

Two men and one woman were sitting around a coffee table. James wore loose fitting Khakis and a tropical short sleeve shirt with tropical plant silhouettes. His elbows rested wide on his knees like a sportive man ready for a game of golf.

Victor's short hair stuck close to his head. His rimless glasses and office clothes looked work man like. His face was intently looking forward. The fingers were crossed in a fist with the index finger pointing forward in intellectual agitation.

Aimee had her arms wrapped around her knees leaning forward. She wore a knee length plus a few inches Jewish jeans skirt -- thick and chaste fabric. Her head was dropped to her chest. She was hiding from the two men and pulled into her own world. Trepidation and hesitation played out in the expressions of her face. A plain black fold over handbag lay next to her. The hand bag had creases from age.

A drawing of an abstract woman looking at herself in the mirror hung above them. It was drawn with big colorful brushstrokes. A box of handkerchief rested on the coffee table. A microwave hid behind the couch for Victor's rushed lunch breaks. A large bookshelf with aged book back's stood at the wall. Large books had clinical sounding names. Smaller more colorful books had names like 'the wounded child' and 'paint the rainbow pink.' The curious eye quickly picked out the telltale mammoth book: DSM-IV-TR. That means Diagnostic and Statistical Manual 4 -- Text Revision. The older three editions were right next to it.

"Aimee, you have been coming for a year now with your challenges to initiate romantic relationships. You have a successful career at a book publisher. You are in good health. Your parents love you. The piece that is missing in your life is an intimate relationship. We have come as far as we could by talking. As a therapist, I cannot touch you without losing my license. However, to see any progress, we have to move into the practical realm."

"James has been a partner of my practice for many years. We have successfully helped many women to open up their erotic and sexual side. It is very wonderful to discover once erotic dimension. The world becomes alive. A good sex life affects your whole outlook and life, as well as how you approach work. There is a zest and extra vibrancy in the work of sexually alive people that sexually closed people struggle to gain in vain. Having a companion in your life will have many other positive aspects."

"I-I understand. I am a very hopeless case. Nobody at work ever asks me to go to lunch. I can't-can't control becoming tense, when men talk to me. I get this fear of falling. I fear that my muscles will fail. I may trip and fall, when they talk to me. Or, maybe that I will pee myself. And, then I get so focused on not falling and not peeing that I can't think of what to say. And, when I try to say 'hello,' my voice kind of disappears. I try to clear my throat. I try to blow air from my belly, but the voice stays weak. And, then I just walk away."

"Why don't you tell James about your recent success? You did manage to meet up with a man recently."

"Yes, Victor taught me this technique. When I get nervous, I imagine that my hands are warm. I am holding a warm cup of chocolate. My bones are hurting a bit from the heat. The heat spreads up my arms and through my whole body. And, I don't have to say anything. I just smile and project that warm feeling of holding a hot cup of chocolate."

"I did that technique last weekend at an Irish bar. A man approached me. He had curly, sweaty hair. He hovered a bit of a belly in front of him. He wore a suit that somehow looked sleazy like a homeless person. But, I didn't shut down with all the objections in my head. I kept smiling and projecting hot chocolate into his face. I imagined the hot chocolate warming him. He was a bit unsure for the first five minutes. However, he got over it and just kept talking without asking me questions or forcing me to speak."

"He walked me to his apartment. When I walked up the stairs, my thoughts revolted. I did not want him as a boy friend. However, Victor keeps saying that I find a fault with everyone. We did this exercise, where we browsed okcupid.com together. After I rejected the hundredth profile, I kind of realized that Victor had a point. So, I tried to stay open, as I walked up the stairs with this odd mustard yellow wall paint that I did not like at all."

"In his apartment, he pulled on my clothes and pushed his lips on me, I couldn't help but struggle against his advances. " You first," blurted over my lips. It was the first thing that I had said to the man. He quickly took off his clothes. I saw him naked. I saw all the hair, the belly, and the shriveled heap of skin that was his penis. All I could think about was that he probably missed a few spots during his shower in the morning. I felt disgusted looking at his penis. I ran. I might have forgotten to close the door after me."

"Aimee, that was very courageous of you. You got right up there to the edge of the diving board. Especially for someone suffering from such physical symptoms of anxiety, it is excellent to get this far. Victor is right that we can take it from here."

"With me, you get to push open the door of what you have gotten a glimpse off. In a safe and therapeutic environment, you can experience all the emotions and dynamics that hide behind that door. After the session, you can take all the experience that you gained and have a wonderful love life."

"James, what would a session with you be like."

"Most people expect from a sexual surrogate steamy sex. Actually, a lot of times, we simply cuddle. A lot of issues turn out to be really simple. There might be a hygiene issue, a really bad odor that blocks man. There might be some anatomy lessons. A lot of women are not familiar their own body. And, in a few cases, I actually have sex with the patient. These patients simply need the physical experience."

Victor looked at the alarm clock behind Aimee's head with the roman numerals: "Aimee, I am afraid that the time is up. So, I will only see you after you finished your sessions with James. I wish you the best of luck. You are in good hands. He has many years of experience and is very sensitive to individual needs."

Aimee stood up on her plain brown semi-high high heels with the big toe cover. She stepped toward the door with her gait wobbly from the commotion in her head. Her hand automatically flipped the light switch on the way out. The light switch signaled the next patient a green light to enter the therapy room.

Two days later at 2:55 PM. Aimee stood with her feet squared next to each other on the brown coated wooden patio. Her body was hefty, focused, and business like, as she is ready to go into a client office to present the paper choices at her publisher. She reached out her index finger. Her first joint of the fleshy finger buckled back almost ninety degrees. The door bell sounded a baritone dong. Behind her were the neat grassy front lawns of a residential neighborhood with low manicured bushes and young ornamental trees.

James welcomed her in with a warm smile. He was wearing loose drawstring pants and a white cotton shirt that had the top and bottom buttons undone to show a bit of skin. His hair was styled with product. Aimee followed him in awe. Her foot stepped wide over the door step. The heel hit at a very perpendicular angle.

The therapy room was adjacent to the backyard. The backyard was almost inside of the room. The floor to ceiling window and sliding door gave that illusion. A futon bed was the central focus of the room. James casually sent a fresh sheet flying across the bed. The soft brushed cotton invited snuggling into it.

"Had a messy session?" she said awkwardly trying to break her own tension. He was evidently very comfortable arranging the room for her.

"Oh, yes, she was a real squirter," answered James looking at her standing in the doorway before he focused back on the pillow that he Karate chopped to fluff up the feathers.

While Aimee waited without daring to step into the room, she looked around. The wall was painted in a soft designer green. Aboriginal fertility drawings filled the wall: big round circles for pregnant women and standing phallus symbols that towered three times higher than the people sketched with simple lines. A commode with peasant-style drawings of flowers had many little drawers. Tiny vials of scent therapy and incense sticks lay on top of the commode.

James slapped his hands together: "Why don't we dive right in. Let's see how you feel like in your underwear. When you take off your clothes, let's verbalize any thoughts that come to your mind." James sat down on the futon bed. His knees were high because of the low bed. His legs were spread wide. And, he rested back on his hands.

"I feel nervous. I feel very, very nervous."

Pressed exhales were punching through her tight lips.

"Okay, that's perfect. Let all the anxiety come up. Here in therapy, you have the perfect opportunity that nothing will happen. As you can experience more anxiety here, we can make you more comfortable about having anxiety out there."

"None of the therapy will take the anxiety away. It will always be with you. The difference is that you become okay with experiencing the pins and needles and can still act."

Aimee nodded with the intense agreement of a little girl daring to jump into the deep pool to make her daddy happy.

"Whatever you feel happening, let it happen. If you feel like screaming, scream. If you feel like hiding, hide. Try to almost overact your anxiety."

"I am falling. I am falling," stammered Aimee. All her muscles were tense. Her knees pointed in one direction and she looked like she was about to do an emergency crash during downhill skiing. James swiftly got to his feed, "I'll be there to catch you."

Redness crawled over her neck to form a red blotch. Her mouth remained closed, yet drew an exasperated expression. Her eyes turned darker.

"I didn't fall. I really thought, I'd fall. But, I didn't fall."

"Well, there you go, champ," said James with a big smile.

Her clam fingers squeezed the top bottom of her blouse to pop through the slit. The beige blouse had a square look to it. Her hefty body filled the fabric completely to the point, where the fabric was tight in places of extra fat.

"This blouse, I got at Banana Republic. It is very business focused, so that the male publishers respect me. It has a completely formal look."

Her hand continued to loosen her jeans skirt with very standard indigo and without any style elements. She kicked off her shoes.

"This skirt came from a closing sale at a mall department store. Many other women at the synagogue wear jeans skirts like this. They are very fun skirts without seeming promiscuous."

Aimee stood barefoot in her underwear in the room with James looking at her with focused eyes gliding from section to section on her body. Then, his eyes scanned her face. Her panties were skin toned briefs that covered the whole triangular area all the way over her hips. The bra was brown triangular. The shape was a plain round with much excess fabric to cover her whole upper torso.

"The underwear is a specially fabricated material that supports the body and is guaranteed to last extra long. The price was very good on these. They came through a mail order catalog. The box was completely nondescript. So, I didn't have to worry about the mail men."

"Very good, Aimee. We are in an intimate space now and you are still talking."

"Oh, I always like to talk about the bargain deal that I snap," laughed Aimee.

"We are here in therapy. Would it be okay to take things a notch up? There may be intense or unpleasant feelings that surface."

"Of course, I pay a lot of money and want to get my money's worth. Should I take off all my clothes?"

"No, I have something perhaps more emotional intense on my mind. Come here."

James walked her to the peasant drawer. His hands glided lovingly over the wood to admire the wood patterns and the blackened metal ornaments on the box. After taking a thought or two, he opened one of the drawers. The drawer was a five by five inch drawer. The contents were many thongs and bras. By the maze of strings and skinny material poking up to the surface, it was evident that they were all very skimpy.

His fingers pulled out a g-string with black lace and red ribbons running through it. The bra matched perfectly to create a forbidden Parisian ambiance. The lace texture of the combo was nearly complete opaque, yet the tiny little holes exposed what was beneath it at very close and focused look.

"Try these on and see how you feel. All of them are freshly laundered. This is where the clients get to experiment becoming different women. Perhaps, they always dreamed of a certain raciness or sophistication that they didn't dare claiming on their own." 

"Oh, I can't take on those black and red pieces. They are too slutty."

"That's very interesting that you call them slutty. Has perhaps someone called you slutty? Or, perhaps somebody has been chastised in your presence as slutty?"

"Well... well," her mind scanned images of her work place. Everyone was very proper there. Then, an image of her school yard poked up. She was in a circle of girls intently listening to the leader girl. "In school, the other girls talked about slutty girls."

"Okay, that is pretty common. At an adolescent age, people try out different opinions. They sometimes carelessly throw an opinion out to experience the reaction of other people. Calling someone slutty is really an expression of someone being uncomfortable about intimacy and fun. By listening to those people, we can take on their blocks."

"Yes, that's right. Before my girl friends called girls slutty, I never found anything bad about dancing or laughing or playing dress up. After they started calling half the girls slutty, I felt very afraid of doing something wrong to fall out of the circle. I always felt watched. Even little unexpected noises startled me. And, emotionally I felt like someone was always grabbing me harshly by my upper arms ready to shake me."

"So, we have a block here. To overcome the block, let's re-phrase it. Your school yard girl friend would have called this a slutty thong. Let's take a closer look at it. It is also very playful with the ribbon interspersing through the lace. There is also a big hint of fantasy. Doesn't it remind you of Paris, the city of love and glamorous burlesque shows?"

"Yeah, I can see a pretty girl stepped down the stairs with elbow high satin gloves and a green glass of absinthe. A room of wealthy dressed man in suits and twirled mustaches awaits her."

"Wonderful, isn't it. Also, this bra is cut in a way to push the breasts into a sexual shape. Wouldn't it be wonderful to stop being a genderless person and become a beautiful woman? Those boobs are more than the pain of an annual doctor exam. They are meant to be sexy, beautiful, and stimulating."

"Okay, I will try it on."

She stepped into the attached bathroom and returned. Her body looked very sad in the sexy thong and bra, because her body posture rejected the vibe of the sexy lingerie. Instead, her body stood there like an unattractive mass. She stood there as she stood in front of a Power Point presentation about price points of paper, when everyone had dozed off already.

"Excellent, Aimee. You are very open minded. Take a look at yourself in the mirror."

Aimee stepped forward. She recognized the difference between her hefty body and models on magazine covers.

"I look bad. I look terrible. I look fat. I look like a wannabe."

Her cheeks were quivering. Her eyes turned glassy. James put his hand reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Aimee, what you see may be painful. However, it is important to not stop here. This is like opening the door to your sexuality a tiny gap. You can see inside. You can see how wonderful it would feel like to be a sexy woman. You have a strong longing to be fully inside, yet you realize that you are looking in from the outside. Many people stop at this point and get scared off for life. Let's take a step together inside of your sacred room of sexy."

"What you notice is that your body isn't in shape. We can't change that today. Only gym and regular workouts will do this. However, I will show you how the mere fact of working out makes you feel physical. Have a seat on the floor and do some sit-ups."

Aimee got on the floor. Her ample bare butt skin of the thong stuck to the freshly waxed bamboo floor. James sat on her feet. Then, she rolled over to do girl push-ups. They did jumping jacks. James encouraged her to swing her arms really playful and wide to avoid treating it as a robotic exercise. Her boobs jostled wildly. Her hair flew however each curl wanted to fly.

With a sheen of sweat, she stood again in front of the mirror. This time, her stance was active. Her muscles were slightly pumped. Her abdominal muscle even shimmered beneath her fat layer. She may have been a hefty woman. However, she looked sporty and accepting of the sexy, skimpy black and red Parisian lingerie on her body. She smiled satisfied at herself.

"Oh, I feel like some of the girls in high school that always smiled and played little games and brought exciting dresses to class."

"Isn't it nice? You are allowing yourself to be part of the in crowd."

"Let's take this can-do spirit and do a little game. Here in my hands are four dice. They have a wonderful red see-through to themselves. They should remind you of casinos, Las Vegas, and partying. Let's come up with some poses with those dice and I take photos with your iPhone."

"Okay, I don't know what kind of pose to do."

Aimee walked over to her purse on the floor. She bent over to reach down. The g-string disappeared almost completely in her big butt.

"Have a seat on the bed. Throw the dice and pretend that you just won at a really high stakes game, like you can buy yourself a Jaguar or house in Hawaii."

She crawled onto the bed. Sitting on her knees, she threw the dice on the mattress and opened her mouth wide, her eyes lit up, and her body jumped up like a sister that had been surprised by her little brother. James snapped a photo.

"Let's put a dice on your palm. Put the palm in front of your face and blow a kiss of luck on the dice. Try to be really seductively and sexy."

She did as she was told. The pretend play animated her whole being. Her puckered lips protruded. The color in her eyes showed. James snapped the next photo.

"James, let me put the dice between my boobs."

Her boobs very pressed together by the bra to create a deep long cleft. The four dice easily fit in a line between her breasts. James snapped a photo. Then, she rolled over and balanced them on a three dice high pile and one solitary pile on her butt. James snapped a photo as well.

"Okay, Aimee, we got some good glamour shots here. It's time to try out sexting. Sexting is sending sexy text messages. It's a totally safe way to get sexual, because you don't even have to be in the same room. Can you think of any man, whom you could send one of the photos right now?"

"Oh, boy. That is really dangerous!"

"Yes, life is dangerous. Let's embrace the danger as the exhilarating feeling that makes us feel alive. Pick a man."

"Okay," Aimee set up giddy on her knees rubbing her palms against her thighs, "George, the Mexican cleaning man in the office, he wouldn't mind. He barely speaks English, yet he always welcomes me warmly. He is a bit older. His face is scruffy, yet he is very friendly. He wouldn't mind."

"Done, he got the last two shots. I signed with hugs and kisses for you."




The Surrogate



Aimee sat tensely on the butt. Her muscles were almost shaking from tension. The blood had left her face. Her face was tense and pale. She heard a lone car engine driving down the street. She counted the clouds. It was an overcast day.

Then, her iPhone vibrated softly. George had responded with a candid shot of his flaccid penis.

"There you go, Aimee. In your life, you will get lots of penis shots. Men are kind of obsessed with sending those. You can just ignore it. It's strange behavior that eventually goes away."

"But, what do I do? The cleaning man has seen me now half naked and haunts me with his penis."

"Just smile and pretend like nothing had happened. We will pick you the right guy later. The time is almost over. We have to do one last thing. We have to burn your old panties and bra. They are only holding you back."

James walked her out onto the patio. A round, black barbeque stood there. She put her skin colored underwear into the filthy white ash. There was a little swirl of ash. He sprayed way too much lighter fuel on it. With a thrown match, he lit up the pile. The flames immediately licked two feet high in bright yellow-orange. After ten seconds, the flash was gone. The lighter fluid had been used up. A low blue flame turned the bra into black liquid plastic that melted into a ball of goo.

She walked out of the practice with the new sexy lingerie under her office garb.

A week later at 2:55 PM, Aimee wore shiny yellow and purple Jordan sneakers. Her workout pants were bright red with white stripes. On top, she wore a matching workout jacket with a small zipper. The workout clothes were so new that they were still stiff and had sales rack fold marks. More life pulsed through her face. Her index finger zipped straight forward to push the door bell. The heavy Burmese sounding gong echoed through the rooms inside.

James was dressed in a business casual shirt and khakis from an office visit to present his services to a new psychologist in the neighborhood. The hair was slicked back with product to provide a shiny flat surface on top of his head.

"Aimee, good to see. I see your erotic thread showing stronger today. And, you look like you started with a personal trainer. Tell me, how has George reacts?"

"George has been smiling extra intense, every morning that I walk through the lobby. And, he keeps trying to give me candy, food, and coffee. Every afternoon, he comes by my desk. Yesterday, he brought me very sugary candy from Mexico. And, then he just stands there with his round face and the short stubbly hair. He looks and smiles."

"Aimee, this may sound cruel. However, to open up your sex appeal, you have to feel confident. You can't be obligated to act nice. The same psychological bond that keeps you from expressing your sexy self is the bond that keeps you acting nice. You have to give George a cruel rejection."

"But, he is so nice. He hasn't done anything."

"See that is the what we call the nice-itis talking. You have to get over that. There is no crutch to smooth talk it or make it acceptable. You have to do something that you find very unacceptable. Period."

"That's really hard."

"Next time you see him, tell him 'Don't embarrass yourself. You didn't think you could get any of this?' Then just walk. That's very important. It's like a smart bomb. You drop 'em and don't hang around: Did it really explode? No, just leave and let it sting."

"I can't do that. He is going to cry."

"Okay, let practice. Tell me."

Aimee's eyes rolled round. Her body faced the wall. Her shoulders tried to roll off the uncomfortable feeling. She mumbled: "Don't embarrass yourself. You didn't think that you could get any of this?"

"What, I can't hear you."

With a little firmer tone and less mushy body posture, she repeated: "Don't embarrass yourself. You didn't think that you could get any of this?"

"Sweetheart, you don't mean it. You love me."

With a firm voice and her body digging into the ground with each inhale, she raised her voice: "Don't embarrass yourself. You didn't think that you could get any of this?"

James kneeled down and put his hands on his eyes as if he were crying: "Why?"

Aimee stomped her foot on the ground in a spontaneous jolt that even startled her. With her index finger wagging into the air, she screamed: "Don't embarrass yourself. You didn't think that you could get any of this?" Then, she walked into the bathroom.

James clapped his hands to congratulate her.

"Come on back. It's time to do an exercise."

Aimee returned from the bathroom.

"Today, we are going to focus on your relationship with your vagina. Vagina is very clinical. I want you to think of it in a warmer and fuzzier term. Pussy is an adorable name for it. Cootchie has a very cute ring to it. Snatch is bolder and rawer. Man trap is a bit feisty and over the top."

"Why do I need to pick a name? It is such a nasty place."

Aimee's face turned in disgust.

"That's your love cave," exclaimed James.

"No, it's a dirty pee hole. There are urine drops smeared to it. There is always this white sticky goo that traps all the dirt into black dirt bunnies. The flaps are wrinkled skin hanging around. It's so close to the stinky ass. It's a waste hole."

"Okay, Aimee, lets address your relationship with your sex. Loving your pussy is the foundation for having orgasms. A positive relationship with your pussy is the foundation for a fulfilling sex life, which is the foundation for a romantic relationship. Phew, that's a lot of pressure, huh?"

"I don't see, how you can find anything positive. It's just a hole that traps germs, liquids, and smells."

"Okay, let's take a deep breath here. This is a big issue. And, I can assure you that we will get through this together. Let's take your clothes off and have a look."

Aimee peeled one layer after the next off her body. Her movements showed that her new found pep had disappeared into defeat. James watched her unzip the workout jacket. He watched her grab the t-shirt by the sides to pull it over the head. The black and red lingerie showed. The workout pants came off. The g-string rolled into a bunch on the way down her meaty thighs.

Her vagina was rosy. The vulva lips were neither complete potato wedges nor meat curtains. They were in between. A bit of a meat curtain was hanging there, yet barely enough to show the ruffles in the curtain and the textured lips with many tiny creases in a cross hatch pattern. Her areolas were extra wide and almost filled half the area of her breast. Her nipples themselves were tiny little knobs.

"Let's wash your va-jay-jay in the bathroom. You'd be surprised about how many women never paid attention to this intimate place."

They walked into the bathroom. The bathroom was white. Everything was neat. There were no shampoo bottles or anything standing around. The only thing outside of the drawer and under-sink-cabinet were ultra soft luxurious towels, white and highlighted with a colorful stitched emblems. The bathroom had a meticulously clean toilet and bidet in the corner.

"You have two toilets. Is that for couples to do their business together?"

"No, this is a bidet. Have you seen a bidet before?"

"No."

"A bidet is kind of like a mini bathtub to wash your intimate areas. The word is French and means pony, because one sits down in it like on a pony. See, here is a central fountain that will shoot water up."

While James lathered his arms in a white sheen of soap up to the elbow, Aimee carefully explored sitting down in the bidet. Her butt sank beneath the lid. The white porcelain felt unfamiliarly cold to her ass, her ass that had never made contact with anything in public. She felt herself a bit helplessly slumped into the bidet. She looked up at James with big puppy eyes, who looked down at her lightly amused like watching Bambi making its first steps.

James kneeled next to the bidet. Aimee felt helpless and left her sex presented like a slave on the village auction podium -- for all to see and exam. There were a few black cotton balls at the side in the vulva and thigh crease. There was a bit of vaginal discharge that had clotted into something thick and white. The hood of the clitoris was larger than that of the average woman.

Carefully, with his bare hands, James glided the pads of his fingers in between the inner and outer lip. While he kept explaining to Aimee her own anatomy, his fingers pulled back the clitoris hood. His fingers continued to separate and spread the vagina open. His finger poked inside of her. Aimee intently and very silently listened. The butt cheeks were a bit sticky from sweat and a musk smell. James leaned two inches close to her nether region to report on the aroma of the smell: A little naughty ass flavor, a little stale fishy, and also her own unique cinnamon like pussy smell.

The following water stream from the fountain beneath was soft nothing like the jet stream that one would have expected of a cleansing operation. James' full hand lifted soothing warm water onto the lower part of her belly to flow down her clitoris, vagina, and drizzle off her ass into the bidet. Two drops of liquid soap quickly frothed into a thick foam bath of tiny bubbles. The foam beard was washed off expertly. James fingers trailed through all the little grooves to produce a squeaky clean pussy.

Her face had received a dreamy expression from listening to all the soft handling in her sensitive region. He handed her a hand towel to dry off and helped her to stand. Tame like a lamb she followed him into the practice room. He had her sit naked at her side, while he remained fully dressed in his business clothes.

"Next, we are going to do an art exercise. To get familiar with your vagina, I'll have you draw it. You will notice that with increased time looking at it, your vagina will endear itself to you. It's a natural process that as we observe something, we start to like it."

"So, here is a hand mirror, so that you can see yourself. Here is an artist pad and a pencil. This is a view finder. It's just a cardboard paper with a square cut in the middle."

"Almost none of my clients are artists. So, here is a really simple technique that lets you get creative without getting into your head."

"Make marks in the middle of the sides of the paper. Now, imagine the paper split into four quadrants divided by the marks. You are going to draw each quadrant individually. That way, you don't think about the whole thing with your mind, but get lost in the details."

"Here is where the view finder comes in. Hold it between your eye and the vagina, so that it covers the three quadrants that you are not drawing. See, now your vagina is already a flat image. All you have to do is measure."

"Notice how your clitoris is a third from the top of the hole in the viewfinder and a quarter to the left. Find that same place on your pad. Now, notice the shadow on the far side of the clitoris. See, if you can get that shape accurately and really darken the paper with the pen. See, it's just measuring with the view finder and transferring."

Aimee captured the details of her clitoral hood: the round curve on top, the little bit of clitoris lurking out, the triangular shadow beneath it. She detailed all the folds of her labia, the shadow on her thighs. She got the dark shape in between her vaginal lips. She counted all the curls in her meat curtain. There were three waves in it. By and by, the painting of her nether region turned beautiful for someone, who had given up painting after elementary school. And, she fell in love with it, adored her va-jay-jay.

James had patiently observed her face get focused, relax, smile, and grow a happy glow to it. Aimee was lying on her back with a pillow behind her neck. Her knees were up at an angle. The notepad's bottom edge of sharp papers was pushing against her left breast, where she rested it. The pink rimmed hand mirror was put in place with a pile of the bed sheets.

"Great job, Aimee! Your vagina and your drawing both look beautiful."

"Are you ready for the next level?"

He looked at her expectantly with the eye brows raised. She smiled back at him warmly and mellowed out from the day's therapy activity.

"We are going to practice masturbating. That's very clinical. 'Making love' or 'reaching enlightenment' are much better words to use."

James dropped sandalwood scent therapy out of a tiny vial into a ceramic water bowl. A tea candle glowed beneath the water bowl. He pushed play on the tiny CD player. Soothing and Arabic inspired music played. He placed a bottle of clear lubricant with a baby pink cap next to her.

"I am going to talk you through a guided masturbation now. To have a wonderful orgasm means to spread the feeling through your whole body, not just your vagina. Take your fingers and rub your ears. Lead your index fingers through all the little groves. This is actually reflexology."

"Gently, let your hands glide to your neck. Play with different sensation. Try firm rubbing of the muscles and alternate with soft sensual strokes of the skin. Mix in a bit finger scratching or even digging."

James looked over her naked butt. Her body was hefty. Yet, the sensual curves and feeling started to emanate from her body. It was hard to believe that she had been a tough business woman with pleasure and her body completely shut off. Now she was lying fully exposed and playing with her body.

"What am I doing with neck? I don't feel anything special."

"Well, the Japanese consider the neck an erogenous zone. That's why the kimonos cover the neck like Western clothes cover the breast. Taoist monks allegedly can trigger orgasms by merely touching the neck."

"Move your hands down to your nipples. Try circles. Try distributing spit around your areola to create a cool stimulating feeling. Try pinches. You can even try some slaps."

Aimee groped her hefty breasts with both hands like a farmer that works the dirt. She gave them a smack with an intently bitten lip. The mammary tissue in her breasts jiggled. She'd be good at titty fucking thought James' drifting mind.

"Now, run circles with your fingers on your inner size. Alternating scratching up and caressing down is especially stimulating there."

Red streaks of her fingers glowed up a few seconds after each scratch, until her whole inner thighs were reddening.

"Your whole body is warmed up. Take some of the lube and distribute it over the outside of your vagina. Make nice strokes up and down."

Aimee obediently drizzled lube on her hands. Her vagina became glistening and slick. Drops of wet formed on the sheet. Her body remained still.

"James, with all the stroking and caressing, I don't feel anything. I don't see how any of this is going to make me orgasm or aroused. It's just handling like baggage at the airport."

"Trust the process. If you haven't masturbated, your mind does not know how to orgasm. You will suddenly notice that you have been turned on all along. You just didn't realize what feeling you had to look for."

Aimee said, "Okay." Her hand continued rubbing her pussy up and down. Her eyes were wide open looking at the ceiling. After a few strokes, James noticed how she placed more pressure on the downward stroke. A few more strokes, and her hand curved a little more on the upward stroke to lift her vagina up. She was on her way to learn how she had to move her hand to get off.

"Try pressing the base of your palm against your pubic bones. Do small circles with a lot of pressure to move the skin over the bone."

A sultry sigh escaped her mouth like an exhale gone strange. "Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't realize what my lungs were doing."

"This is what we want. You are getting turned on."

"I am getting turned on? This is what it means to be aroused. Interesting," Aimee kept blabbering to herself, while her eyes were turned still due to her intense focus on her inner feelings.

"Aimee, try the tip of your fingers on your vagina and move them very swiftly back and force. You'll notice that you have to learn to get the pressure just right."

"Oh, ah, wow, this is intense."

"My, my legs are tingling," Aimee breathed the words heavily out of breath. "Is this supposed to happen."

"That, that was nice. That was kind of like eating Lake Chamberlain chocolate, only so much more."

"Excellent job, Aimee! Now that you can get there by yourself, let me show you a few strokes."

James skilled hand caressed the spot between her clitoris and entrance with just the right speed and intensity. He deliberately pushed his index finger inside and outside of her while his thumb pushed down onto the clitoris in circles.

"Wow, James, can I take your hands home. You are so much better than I am!"

"Don't worry Aimee, with practice you will be able to touch yourself better than anybody else can. I know that you are a very cognitive learner. However, with touching genitals, there are a lot of nuances. You have to let the touch work itself out naturally. Just relax and enjoy. As homework, I want you to self love yourself every day."

James slapped Aimee's thigh that the exercise and session was over. Aimee wiped her bottom clean of the lubricant with a wad of tissues from the box on the bed stand. Then, she jumped back into her workout clothes with a snicker on her face and left promptly to avoid going over time.

A week later at 2:30 PM, Aimee parked her red Honda Civic hatchback four car length away from the surrogate's house. She remained in her car and watched. The residential street was a long road lined by great tall leafy trees. Their trunks had narrow spaces between the sidewalk and the street to escape the concrete cover. A gray family van parked in a drive way. Two kids ran out of the sliding side door. One threw a basketball into a hoop over the garage.

Another five minutes, and she saw what she had come early for: The previous patient. A tall slender women with many tiny braids of kinky black hair came out of the door with long lanky legs. Heavy construction worker boots were clad to her feet in a fashion statement. Her legs were covered with leggings that showed the silhouette of legs as skinny as that of a horse. Her butt was a nothing in the exposed silhouette. Her top was a jacket too short to cover her belly with a pink green color that was too vibrantly bright to fit into American fashion sensibility.

The teenager was evidently straight from Africa with little naturalization of her style of clothing, hair, or gait. The tattered blue subcompact drove off with her in the passenger seat.

Aimee waited a polite five minutes to be her standard five minutes early: 2:55 PM. She stood in front of that door again, the door with the blue paint. The spots where the paint was missing had been memorized. She was dressed in a light gray drench coat. She had been running to her therapy session straight from a client meeting. The door opened.

"So, James, what kinds of other patients are you treating?"

"Aimee, everyone gets a little nosy after they are becoming comfortable with the whole concept of sex therapy. I can't tell you patient details. Obviously! However, recently, I have been working with a lot of African teenagers. They are of course all eighteen years old or more."

"There is a terrible practice of cutting in Africa. Similar to Jewish people removing the foreskin of their sons, African women remove the external parts of the vagina of their daughters. Those days are really very unfortunate. The aunts and grand mothers usually try to make the day fun by presenting the girls with gifts."

"However, after the gifts are unwrapped and the cakes eaten, they quite barbarically hold the girls down, and they cut their own nieces and grand daughters. They cut like one cuts a fish or steak. They discard the labia. Some are so poor that they use glass pieces from a broken bottle to cut. Very traditional areas even sow the vagina closed until the point that she is married."




The Surrogate



"Obviously, the event is very traumatic. There is no anesthesia for the pain. There is no hygiene to avoid infections. In the end, all the sensitive tissue that can receive arousal and orgasms is gone."

"What I do as a clinical study is to help those girls discover ways to experience erotic pleasure, and yes, hopefully even orgasms. These girls often don't experiment naturally with their vaginas, because the erotic drive is missing without the sensitive skin. However, under my guidance and prolonged stimulations, we can trigger new nerve growth in less sensitive parts of their vaginas. This is a wonderful second chance at having a fulfilled life for these women."

Aimee played with the buttons of her trench coat. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her knees together.

"Now, let's talk about you. How did your rejection to George work out?"

"Oh, it went horribly. He called me a 'prostituta.' I don't know Spanish but I know what that means. I felt horrible. I felt like beating myself up the whole day. He is so nice and I am just an asshole."

"Okay let's talk about this for a bit. Power! Power is a very interesting thing. George had power over you in the situation."

Aimee exclaimed, "I mean, what could I have done? He was right!"

"Let's back up for a bit. People often look at power as who is stronger, especially analytical persons as you are. We consider that a boss can make us do anything, because he can fire us. We believe that a tiger is stronger than we are. The monster can eat us with one bite."

"However, look at a tiger tamer. He is not stronger. Yet, he makes the tiger obey. It is psychological dominance. The same is with a boss. A boss has the firing power, yet you can still dominate him with psychological power. In fact, you rarely ever want to use material power to get what you want."

"Yeah, I kind of see where you are going. My sister always makes everyone move around. And, she is the youngest."

"Now, imagine that you and George were in a curse word match. He says one curse word at you and you volley one right back. In a very mental world, this would go on forever. And, I know that you are very mental. You'd simply hurl warm air and vibrations against each other. However, in the real world, one of you would crack eventually. Self doubt or whatever would surface. There is a psychological pressure that wears one down faster than the other."

"I guess there is such a power game. I always wondered why nobody reacts hurt, when I call them names."

"You are not pushing long enough. Everyone cracks eventually. I want you to show a little more in detail what happens. In Neurolinguistic Programming, also called NLP, we have something called a frame. A frame is a certain belief about reality. George's frame could be that you are rude. Your frame could be that he is not deserving. The frame is the reality that you believe in."

"Okay, I see how we could both have a very different perspective on the same situation."

"Right! Now, whoever has the stronger reality wins. If you two keep talking, one of you will start to have self doubt and question their belief. See this thing has nothing to do about who is right and who is wrong. It is simply, who has the stronger psychological power."

"Hm, that's a totally different way of thinking."

"So, the next time you get into an argument, just keep re-stating your position like a dumb donkey. Wait for the other person to crack. As you become a sensual and attractive woman, you will draw more attention. You will have to know how to defend yourself against 200 lbs guys in the alley and high powered CEOs. It's always about psychological power, not combat strength or position. Remember that!"

"Wow, I should start taking notes."

"Before we get started, I have to take a blood sample. This is a medical test to make sure that you are clean. I will also test my own blood."

An orange rubber strap was tied around her biceps. A needle extracted a vial of blood. A machine in a commode drawer processed their blood. "This is a PCR/DNA test. This is the Cadillac of HIV testing. Yep, we are both good. The porn industry uses the same protocol. They have only one scare every five years or so. And, they have a lot of actors and scenes."

"Okay, let's keep it fun. Today, we are going to explore the male body. I have to warn you, my body is very well trained. It is so stunningly good looking, it might harm your eyes permanently."

Aimee giggled. She balanced on one leg and lifted her leg up to her stooped chest to pull the office man's pants with the ironing crease down. She dropped the drench coat and the rest of her stiff office clothing. Aimee's hair was thinner and duller than usual. The diet regiment caused her body to be drained. However, her face already looked a bit skinnier.

James kept his clothes on until Aimee stood naked in front of him, "Aimee, the first lesson is to become familiar with men's wardrobe. When you undress me, notice the many differences. Belt buckles lock from the other side. All the fabric is a little heavier and coarser. Take your time to really feel the clothes."

Aimee giggled for a moment with stiff nervousness. Then, her fingers glided in between the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers were stiff and cold. She snapped the first button loose like it was an office task like sharpening a pencil. Then, she smiled, "You are such a hot man to undress. I am such a lucky lady."

Her fingers glided in between the next buttons. His chest exceedingly exposed. She remembered moments of her childhood and sneaking glimpses of the boy's locker room. With the shirt off, James looked like a bronze god at a Brazilian beach.

She squatted in front of him with her naked bum hovering above the bamboo floor. Her face was at the height of his brushed cotton shorts. She pulled them down. A seven inch long and stoutly thick cock jumped at her. Her mouth gasped open. Her eyes were focused on the black slit, the pee hole. Everything was so amazing to her! Her first up close view at a live adult penis!

Encouraged by James, she touched the penis. There was a thin, soft, and squishy layer. Beneath that layer of tissue was a rock hard swollen tissue. The penis head had very soft skin that slightly stuck to her fingers. She probed the penis down to the shaft. Than she grabbed it with her fist to get a feel for how it felt in her hand. It felt comfortable like ergonomically shaped for her hand. It made her feel powerful, excited, and happy to hold an erect penis in her hand.

"Good job! You undressed your first man. Now, let's continue with the exploration. I want you to use all of your senses. So, I will blind fold you. You will first smell me, then touch me, and finally lick me. You really want to get familiar with what a man is like. Men and women are actually quite different."

James pulled a black face mask out of the commode. The black face mask consisted of a figure eight shaped eye pillow and a rubber band. With her eyes covered and disguised, Aimee looked a little bit like a dominatrix at a Venetian masquerade ball, obviously a very naught one, because they were both naked.

"Here, I want you to smell my breath. Notice, how it is very different, because I have a different diet. If you are at first repulsed, it is simply because you are unfamiliar. Keep breathing and observing, like you did with your vagina drawing. You will learn to fall in love with the scent."

She could smell sausage and bell peppers on his breath. He moved her to his arm pits. It was a very familiar smell. It reminded her of her father and spending cozy time with her dad. It made her feel happy to smell the arm pits. Moving her nose to his feet for some reason actually smelled like cheese and for the weirdest unknown reason made her pussy wet. All the masturbation homework had made her get aroused embarrassingly quickly.

James' balls and penis smelled, rancid, and stern. They were clearly freshly washed. Yet, there was a very repulsive distinct smell. It was kind of like a horribly smelling cheese that had a wonderful aroma. She licked his balls. To her surprise, the taste was completely neutral. She kind of started liking that very uniquely male smell. It made her think of penis. It became synonymous with penis.

The tasting session was a lot more interesting. His mouth, tongue, and teeth tasted so clean and delicious like refreshing water after a long mountain hike. There is a thing about water getting a sweet taste, when one is really thirsty. Similarly, his mouth tasted sweet. She was very aroused and felt wicked after deeply tongue kissing him. He had to pull her off his mouth to remind her to keep going and not use the whole session for tongue kissing.

Of all the licking, she paused the longest before taking his toes into her mouth. He had explained that this was an infantile regressive therapy exercise. Babies explore the world with their mouth. She had to explore even his feet with her mouth. And, so she put one toe into her face. Her tongue swirled around it and into the narrow spaces between the toes.

The hardest part was the psychological connotation of feet. Feet are the lowest part of the body. Feet walk through dirt. Feet dominate people. Feet are smelly. She had to really submit herself and lower herself to be able to accept the toe in her mouth. It filled her with emotion. Somehow, she liked the fuzziness and warmth of that emotion.

James' feet were neatly manicured. The rough skin had been filed down by a foot treatment at a salon. Only a few scarce short hairs grew on the back of his foot. James' foot was a lot more bony and sinewy then her soft and curved foot.

Tasting the penis was a delicious treat. There was something about oral stimulation and pleasing a man that made her very happy. The penis was the perfect toy to suck and press her tongue against. She felt very excited about all the reactions in body muscle tension and twitches that she could feel in James' body.

James pulled her face up to kiss her until her pussy was moist, which he checked with soft caresses. He toppled on top of her and pushed his penis into her belly in the missionary position. Her pussy was completely slick and wet. The penis slipped in and out with a soft squishing sound. Her joints were limb, yet her body was intently listening to the fun feelings that crawled all over her. She felt like she was going on a mental trip with hallucinations.

He quickly lifted her knees to her chest and held them there with the crook of his elbow. Thus, her pelvis was thrust up and he could penetrate her deeper. Like a rag doll, he moved her onto her belly to press the hefty boobs into the soft sheets. Her arms and head hung over the side of the bed. The locks of her hair were shocked with the rhythmic bumps of his thrusts, as he fucked her from behind. The belly pushed sensuously into his hips.

He pulled her hip up to stand on her knees with her chest still pressed down. She looked like an Egyptian slave doing a fully body bow to prince Ramses. Her face had a satin sheen of sweat. The makeup had become blotchy. She pushed her pelvis back into every single of his thrusts.

Her voice hummed and moaned with no self consciousness at all. She surrendered to the feelings taking her out of her mind. She saw many colors and shapes behind her closed eyes. His powerful grunts responded. Feeling his sound waves in her chest, she realized his size and how much deeper his vocal cords were. It made her feel like a smaller woman, which turned her on even more to surrender to the beast that was taking her every which way.

He lifted her whole body up and placed her front facing over the commode. Her arms rested on the commode on which rested her slumped over body, while he drummed her from behind with an intense rhythm. Standing made it so much easier for her to drop her body down on the thrusts. She felt the natural wood under her naked body. It felt dry and alive at the same time.

The commode rattled against the wall. And, then her perineal muscles spasmed. She had an orgasm. A thousand suns were rising inside of her. She felt a giant release. He sensed her orgasm and let himself orgasm. Spurts of his cum shot inside of her. She could feel the goo filling her and slowly oozing down, while they were holding each other silently. They felt each others breath, sweatiness. Most of all, they felt each other limps languid and completely surrendered to each other.

After five minutes of silence, James said, "Congratulation, you successfully graduated from being a virgin. I should print you a certificate."

Aimee sniffled air in and exhaled with determination through her mouth. She pulled herself up. With soggy skin and a messy pussy, she climbed back into her neat work clothes. The session time was up. She felt tattered stepping into her car. She had to hold onto the steering wheel for a moment just for holding on.

A week later at 2:55 PM, Aimee stood in front of the door. She rang the bell. She felt resolute and looked forward to her next session. She had a new outfit coordinated by a local mall sales person. A thin sweater with yellow-brown stripes hugged her body sensuously. An above knee length skirt with extensive stitch lines, folds, and pockets dressed her below. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. It was just easier for working out hard in the gym to have the face free of hair.

James welcomed her by slapping his hands together and looking at her with a free facial expression: "We completed your curriculum last week. We are free to do electives. How about learning to really please a man. You'll beat 90% of your female competition easily with a few tips from me."

Aimee quickly stripped naked. She was in a rush. She knew that the 55 minutes of the therapy session were precious. There was no point in wasting time on hemming and hawing about getting undressed. In 55 seconds, all the clothes were ripped of her body. The memories of the love making session had been replayed every single day during her masturbation homework. And, with each masturbation session, the memories had grown a little fonder and a little more amazing.

She sat on her knees on the bed. He stood in front her. The penis almost hit her in the face that still had an office like look to it. The penis was stout and strong as ever.

"Blowjobs, any guy loves them. Basically, as long as you keep your teeth away, every guy is in heaven. Now, most women are too gingerly to suck. However, the harder you suck the better. Tip number two, use one hand to pump the penis. Typically, your mouth only stimulates half the penis. The hand can stimulate the rest."

The hefty office woman with the orange skin from her new weight loss was eager to learn to please. Without reserve, she took the penis in her mouth. She sucked the penis. She kind of imagined that it would melt like ice creams sticks melt in the mouth. The penis didn't. She only sucked her own saliva away. She eagerly pumped her fist from his pelvis to her lips. Occasionally, he reminded her about retracting her teeth. She loved it. She felt that she was doing a good job.

"You are doing everything perfectly physically now. To turn things up a notch, we have to go mentally. I'll place my hands at the back of your head. No worries. I won't push. Yet, I will have the illusion of fucking your skull. That is an extremely powerful turn on. To make the illusion even more perfect, cross your hands behind your back. It takes a bit of balance. However, a blow job like this is gold."

Her hefty boobs were moving back and force with hard work. Her butt had to stick out with every forward thrust to counter balance. She could swear that he was actually pushing her head onto his penis. Yet, he always let her choose how far down the last inch of her capacity she wanted to go down. She felt slutty like a porn actor. Only, she felt good about being slutty, now that she knew how wonderful it felt.

"Okay, let's take this to 99th percentile awesome. To take the whole penis is not that hard. It takes a little exercise to desensitize. However, the little exercise will stay with you for the rest of your life. Take the penis as far into your mouth as you can. When the gag reflex starts, count from 21 to 25. That should be 5 seconds. Then, take the penis out and try to find again the point where the gag reflex starts."

At first it seemed impossible to take more than half the penis. However, the sensation of the gag reflex became familiar. There was a novel feeling of her deep throat. There was the clam feeling of her stomach pumping. There was the water in her nose from the gag reflex. It all kind of blended together. As the feeling became more familiar, she could embrace the feeling fuller and the gag reflex disappeared.

She eagerly plunged the penis into her mouth over and over. The lessons of her teacher seemed so clear. She felt her life getting better. She enjoyed being touched to her core instead of the polite 'how are you's that had numbed her. Spit occasionally flung out of her mouth. She sucked up the white spit webs.

"You are an excellent student. Your lips are kissing my pelvis bone. That dick is all the way in. It took you only fifteen minutes to learn. That's a new record time. Here is the final lesson for today. That gag reflex that you suppressed, bring it back out. After you showed a guy that you can fully take the cock with ease and comfort, start gagging on it, start spitting like mad. It is a giant turn on, a surge of power and horniness for guys."

James felt her take his dick into her mouth. He felt the back of her throat. He felt his dick slipping down her throat. And, then her whole body convulsed. He could feel her stomach muscles with full tension convulsing. Big wads of spit flung onto his penis and crown jewels. Her eyes tears with two tears on both sides jumping of her lids down her face and over her tits. She looked at him with a bright after the rain smile.

She took him again in her mouth. She started coughing and chocking loudly. He held her head to down onto his pelvis with his full length cock in her mouth for two seconds. Then, he let her go. She collapsed back on her shins and smiled at him with those big puppy eyes and the bright after the rain smile.

"You are awesome. Whatever guy you catch, you won't have a problem of cheating. You will totally own him."

Aimee was very satisfied with herself. She felt accomplished. She felt confirmed that just as in school and business, you analyze yourself. You find your weakness. You get the best mentors in the field. You work hard. You do everything they tell you. And, you will master that area of your life.

James warmly smiled at Aimee as she got dressed: "That was a very enjoyable session for me today. I'd like to thank you for it."

Aimee's victorious smile grew even larger.

"Unfortunately, this is our last session. Next week, you will meet with Victor again. He will debrief you and work on relationship building skills with you."

Aimee left. She sat down in her car. She hit her steering wheel a couple times -- once for her disbelief in having made it through her sexual surrogate therapy and a second time for her victorious euphoria of having made it. She had been graduated with flying colors.

That Saturday, 9:55 PM. She stepped in front of the swankiest night club of the city. She was dressed in a small black dress, a very small black dress that barely covered her bottom. The fabric was stretchy and silky to expose the silhouette of her body and make her look shiny and slightly wet. She wore high heel boots. She used her NLP training to get past the bouncer, when even the hottest girls without reservation had to wait at the velvet line. She had no panties and no cash. On purpose. 



The Surrogate



The story I am about to tell you is how I remember it truthfully. I was at my house when my older brother, John had come over very upset about the divorce papers he had just received from his spouse Brenda. I was not home but my brother had a spare key to my apartment just in case. He had a key, as long as, I care to remember so, if I had to go out of town he could tend to my cat and plants. Well growing up John and I were always close as siblings. He being my older brother I always looked up to him because he was so strong and masculine. 

My brother, John McClendon, was born with his Norse looks because our ancestors were from Sweden and travelled to the United States after a brief stop in Canada because Grand Father was very good in the watch making business. Soon he had amassed a small fortune selling watches which could tell time to the second. John my brother had blonde hair, blue eyes, standing six three in height, and a narrow one hundred ninety pounds. He had broad shoulders and no facial hair which gave him almost boyish good looks. 

I explained that bit about our Grand Father to explain why my brother now third generation, McClendon was as wealthy as he was. I am, Danielle Mary McClendon, I too have long blonde hair, green eyes with a tiny frame of 5'01 and a mere one hundred and eleven pounds. I have a nice 30 B-cup size in the brassiere with a Brazilian little cut beaver. I am a submissive tea cup toy. I enjoy when a man takes me it is in my nature. 

Most men, when I tell them I am a toy get me mistaken for a sex slave or a pet. I am neither, for I am, I believe way higher on the food chain then they are. I am a toy which stays fit by doing physical activities such as run, swim, cycle, or aerobic exercises. I also use soft body oils which are light to the touch such as sesame oils or aroma therapy oils. I stay pampered with lotions and powders smelling good for my Master at all times waiting to be played with. 

I explained that because a toy likes to be played with roughly but does not like being tied up, beaten, whipped, or eating out of bowls like slaves or pets. A toy has a choice as to whom she gives herself to and when. A slave is owned just like a pet is owned they have no say so what so ever. A slave can be tied up for hours humiliated by being used by multiple partners and then hosed off like an animal. Just the same as a pet that is forced to eat from bowls, shit in corners, urinate on them, tied for hours and let's face it, have multiple partners as well in the worst unwashed conditions. 

I will say a toy is exclusive to their Master and they are considered plastic or beautiful without a hair out of sorts. A toy can have multiple partners but only if she desires it. A toy is not owned and has no binding contract but in fact is loyal to her exclusive partner. A toy if mistreated or hurt can leave and be someone else's toy if it's Master no longer desires it or fails to take care of it. A toy can be tied up if it desires it to be so, but it normally has free will from its Master. A toy is polite, neat, and calls its Master either "sir" or "Master" at all times. 

Now that I have explained the particulars I will say this, that on the day I brought my brother his ill-fated divorce papers, I was a toy uncommitted to any Master. I always loved my older brother, respected him because of his skill and dominance in growing his empire even further into the twentieth century. My brother is an Alpha-Male, dominant and it shows in his life. He is aggressive, territorial, and can be vicious handling business matters and employees. Yet he ran to me like always when troubled to see me and had forgotten the dreaded papers. 

It appeared that John had been in my house for quite some time because he drank a cranberry juice and ate a chicken salad sandwich leaving the bread undone on my kitchen counter. It appeared he had lain down on my bed as well because I found his divorce papers on my bed almost under the pillow. I knew I always make up my bed every morning. I do not know what he was looking for but I found my underwear drawer and several others opened. I guess he was looking for a pen or something. I then remembered about my trusty vibrator in the drawer in the nightstand table. I hoped he hadn't found it I began blushing because I didn't want my brother thinking of his sister in the throes of passion like that by herself having an orgasm. 

I remember it was the longest walk in the hallway to see John my nerves were on edge as I brought the papers to my brother's home. I kept thinking of him seeing me with the vibrator sticking out of my little pink soft slit and my hand wrapped around it moving in and out with a humming noise. My lithe muscular little legs spread, my almost hairless blonde thatch, my eyes half closed, and mouth agape breathing passionately as I fuck myself thinking of him watching me. I felt my pussy getting wet as the idle thoughts raced then of my older brother, John kissing me full on the mouth and passionately pulling my hair at the very same instance. This was a secret desire and fantasy that if any man knew of me, they could have me sexually doing anything. 

I walked in the library because that is where the butler explained where John was. I entered and it was as if my legs became heavy like lead weights. I was looking forward head high, shoulders back, in my multi-colored sundress with sheer white panty hose and my hair was braided back with lacquered pink nails and matching soft pink lipstick. My brother was turned towards the window standing looking out into the garden area and fountain but never turned to receive me. This made me worry for an instance as I kept walking forward slowly and my legs became heavier still. 

Without turning to look at me which was a sign of utter dismissal behavior John said, "You know what they say about the main root of the grapevine Mary?" 

He always called me Mary and never Danielle. I came up to him kissing him on the cheek and said, "No sir, but I bet you have knowledge to explain it to me. Here I believe you forgot these papers on my bed." 

Now he turned with his intense blue eyes which pierced straight through my soul and made my body quiver. Oh, how I lusted for my brother secretly. I consider his soon to be Ex-wife a fool because my brother is so handsome and dominant in his every move. He prances like the lion truthfully unafraid of anything or anyone. John then said, "It is said that the best and the strongest comes from the main root of the vine. Do you know why Mary?" 

I smile then and said, "Enlighten me dear brother for I cannot afford to be high minded at this time." I said this in gest and sarcasm as he well knew. He cut his deep blue eyes at me and chuckled. 

My brother walked around me then and whispered in my ear gruffly, "It is because the wine from the main root isn't diminished because it hasn't been cut down and spliced as often. It is the strongest and sweetest because it is from the vines main vein." 

I smiled and clapped for him as he sauntered around me again taking a bow. My brother is thirty and I am twenty eight but look much younger because of how small I am. Most people believe I am only like seventeen or so. Not bragging because it is hell when a high school aged male asks you out to the prom and you have to explain to him that you are almost thirty. 

I was sitting there being facetious with my brother when he sharply looked at me then said, "Hey, I am being serious here." 

I looked up at him and then said, "Yeah, Serious about what? You haven't said anything really except something about a grape vine big deal." I was getting agitated now and my brother sensed it and I shuffled the divorce papers on his desk in front of him. 

John's eyes narrowed and I could tell he was about to explode because the vein in his forehead began to twitch. He then said through gritted teeth, "I was explaining that the wine is stronger when it isn't separated into other little vines from the main vine." 

I looked at him with a plain look on my face and then said, "Yep I got it the very first time you said it and still nothing has changed. Unless you are referring to this," I picked up the divorce papers and tossed them down on the desk again. I then finished, "Which in your case, the bitch is doing you a favor. Brenda isn't asking for much except for the chateau in Paris, the two vehicles that aren't truly worth a shit, and two hundred fifty thousand for her troubles with her attorney's fees. Please you could do that standing on your head and if you start looking deeper into little Mrs. Sunshine I bet you could find out who it is that she's seeing." 

It was then that I saw my brother turn getting angry at me because of my lack of respect towards him and candor I guess at his shitty relationship. He flew over to me grabbing me by my hair which is an instant turn on for me because I could cream my panties when he did that. He then gritting his teeth said, "Who do you think you are speaking about my relationship like it is nothing but a lie? Remember I was in it for almost six years and I do not remember ever asking you for any advice at all." His right hand was tangled in my tresses and my panties were slowly soaking as his lips and face were inches from my own. I kept thinking in my mind if he kisses me I am done for, I cannot contain myself if he just deeply kisses me right now. 

I was still and tears began falling as if on cue and his grip softened a bit as he was still intensely leaning over me. I was breathing faster and faster as my heart began quickening as well. My brother, John then did what I had feared he would do and he kissed my soft sweet lips deeply and passionately while wrapping his hands in my golden tresses. I couldn't help but moan and accept it as I returned his kiss with more passion of my own. We were lost in that very moment in time locked into one another as we devoured each other right there. 

I was on fire my heart beat faster and louder it seemed every nerve ending in my entire body came to life I had never felt this way with anyone else ever kissing me but my brother was the very best sexiest kisser I had ever felt in my life. The burning crept up from deep within my core as the moans and passion consumed me then at once he stopped. John then said, "Oh um my goodness Mary forgive me. I do not know what came over me. I am so sorry." 

I looked at him then said, "Seriously, so you mean to tell me that you didn't mean that which was the realist thing in my entire life and you apologize for doing it? I want to know that you didn't mean what just happened?" I had my hands on both hips and for the very first time in my entire life I was angry with my brother because he was acting stupid with me. It was the first time I ever seen him acting like a silly pussy about kissing me. 

John looked down and walked back towards his desk and I noticed that he purposefully was creating distance between us so I followed him around his desk to be standing directly in front of him awaiting his answer. John mumbled, "I am emotional right now and I shouldn't have." 

It was at this point when I became infuriated and slapped my brother John hard across his face then I said, "You are a lair. You have always wanted to kiss me and you know it John. You are using the papers, emotions, and the situation right now as an excuse. I know that I have panties missing from my bureau drawers and only one man has a key to my house John. I kept this quiet as well because you are my blood." I was bluffing about the last statement because I never noticed anything missing but I was going to see if he would admit to anything at all. 

John's eyes met my own as I in defiance wanted answers and demanded them John turned towards his inside breast pocket and removed from it one pair of baby blue cotton bikini panties which belonged to me. John handed them over to me and then said, "Okay Mary you caught me. I don't think it was a mistake kissing you but I was afraid that if I ever did that you would freak out. I did steal your panties because I thought, I could fantasize about you later being in them for me or spreading your legs for me. I will say that no other woman can hold a candle to your beauty or likeness for me and that yes, I would love to make love to you. There I said it and it's out in the open okay?" 

I was at the front of his library desk leaning my ass on it but not fully sitting on it as my brother revealed to me these things and I asked, "So what you are saying is that you meant to kiss me and you do want to make love to me even though I am your sister?" 

John looked at me and the lion came out in him as he answered, "Yes that is what I said and meant." 

I looked at him smiling gently then said, "I see." I then stood up walking toward the door when I felt his hand grab me. 

John spun me around quickly then said, "I wasn't through talking to you. Now you need to listen to me for a minute. I have been in love with you ever since I can ever remember when you hit me in the mouth with a stick trying to knock down a peach from a peach tree and busting my lip instead making me go get stitches in my mouth." 

I smiled looking down then I asked, "Why are you telling me all this now? It is because you are just emotional about the divorce you don't truly desire me? I am leaving you have your divorce papers John but do me a favor do not ever play with my emotions like that again because I love you too much for that and probably not in a Christian way." 

John looked astounded because I had just confessed to wanting him as well and he needed to say or do the right thing as I was walking towards the library door. John just ran towards me and grabbed me again. He spun me around with one motion grabbing me up under my shoulders lifting me slightly as he turned me. John began kissing me deeply and pulled my hair again at the very same time with a passion that only a true lover can deliver. He kissed me deeply and with a love that I could feel. I returned his kiss and the animal wild came out in me. 

I kissed and snaked my hot wet tongue into John's sexy mouth and began nibbling his bottom lip passionately desiring him. My Emerald colored eyes wide open as John devoured my neck and I was sliding my arm through the arm in the sundress needing him to take me. I then whispered in a rasping voice, "Oh God John please takes me to the bedroom now I am all yours." 

John smiled his eyes deep blue and wild as he lifted me easily sweeping me up then said, "Perfect idea Mary." He took me into his Master Bedroom where I had only dreamed of spending with him and many nights I spent hating on his stupid beloved Brenda because of my inner jealousy. I always knew she was never a good wife for my brother. 

The strangeness that I was expecting from this first time being with my brother and apprehensive feelings never came with me it was only fascination, passion, lust, and greed of wanting more. I remember John throwing me down on the bed and him removing his shirt and trousers so fast with a skill of a fireman putting on his gear. Only my brother began a renewed attack on my lips and neck as I slid off my sundress allowing it to hit the floor. It was so heated that my insides were turning as if it were to mush inside. The inner core to my entire being was burning as I damned the panties which I tried to slip out of and this is when my Alpha Male lifted me backwards once more using his mouth to remove my panties between his teeth sliding them down to my ankles. 

It was then that the very first powerful feelings entered into my ever fogging brain and every nerve ending, synapses and electrode which penetrated my being came to life in the singular moment when my brother's sweet hot tongue penetrated the softness of my pink folds where my love button hid. Madness rushed through as I moaned without caring spreading for his boyish good looks and his devil of a tongue as he devoured my pussy with moans of his own. I remember crying out not clear words but just sounds of mumblings and requests which were unintelligible as his licking, slurping, and moaning continued. I thrashed my hips into his face my pelvis was bouncing up and down as my lover, my brother, held my ass cheeks in both of his hands as he circled and sucked my love button into and out of his hot supple mouth. I then felt him add first one finger inside my hot sopping wet pussy then a second as his fingers fucked my pinkness sweetly with two inside of me while he nibbled and sucked on my clitoris. 

John was so skilled that the heat began as the moistness grew with every devilish stroke, circle, and suck of his tongue. He moaned into my softness as I screamed, whimpered, and delighted in his tongue. I knew in my mind that no other woman would have him, as long as, I was living. I knew right then that this would be the beginning of a wonderful agreed relationship and my brother had no idea but he was mine forever. My goodness new heights he reached with my pussy and the heat when I froze in the stillest of forms. I then felt the rush, the sudden push of heat and fulfillment. I thrashed about and began shaking, squirting, and thrusting into my sweet brother's face. I was orgasming with force again and again. I squirted his face as he wickedly laughed. I was so satisfied when he finally let my hips and ass touch the bed. My eyes were like glass as I blinked in unbelief from not only how great it was but how quickly he took me there. 

My brother sat back on the bed and was about to get in between my legs when I said, "Oh no you don't, it's my turn." 

I then laid him on the bed and making sweet eye contact with him I slowly licked the tip of his huge, massive, eight and a half inch cock 's bulbous head like it was a snow cone around real slow. I heard John moan as he watched me do this then I popped in the head sucking the tip swirling my tongue around and around with my soft velvet tongue. I danced my tongue around and around, down the shaft to his balls, licking sucking and moaning so my sweet dear brother knew and understood that I loved doing what I know his wife wouldn't do for him. I looked up making eye contact with my brother as he watched me taking the tip again into my hot wet velvet mouth. I heard him again moan his approval. 

I began to then bob faster and faster, up and down, over and over again sliding my hot mouth leaving saliva slick sheened on his veined shaft. I felt his hands grip my hair as he grabs it pulling my face up and down, and up and down fucking my tiny little mouth forcing his cock deeper into my throat and I moan loudly. I then cup his balls and massage them as I suck, slurp, and moan louder and louder. I take his fat cock now, as deep as, I am choking and gagging on it tears begin falling down my cheeks with the black eyeliner from my eyes. John is now fucking my face without mercy for about ten furious seconds before he lets loose his cum into my hot sexy little mouth. He is panting, breathing, and gasping for breath as he lies back onto the bed. 

I then continue to suck it and cleaning up the waste semen and ejaculate with my mouth as I moan loudly. John just looks at me and begins laughing as he looks at me in disbelief. He then says, "All this time I was married to that dumb ass and this little mystery girl was here all along. I am ashamed truly. I wish I would have made a move on you sooner than now. My goodness I do believe I am in love with my Mary." 

I sucked the tip of his cock making one last loud pop as I released it from my sucking mouth and smiled at him. Then I said, "You know what this means right?" 

John looked at me then asked, "What?" 

I smiled demurely then responded, "You can never go back to her ever again. If I hear of it or think it is a whisper on your lips. I will never speak to you again and this," I pointed with the wave of my entire back hand over my sexy little tight body, "Will never ever be touched by you again. Are we clear?" I finished raising my eyebrow so he knew I meant business. 




The Surrogate



I watched as John smiled then said, "We are very clear. Now, you will be mine to enjoy whenever I want you. You will leave that apartment and move in here to share my bed is that clear. You will be my surrogate wife but be my toy." 

I smiled at him then said, "I don't know about that. I do not know how you fuck yet. I might not like it," I jumped off the bed faking like I was going for my clothing when suddenly my brother grabbed me up throwing me on the bed once more pinned me down and began kissing my mouth, neck, shoulders, and breasts. He started sucking my mouth sized tits and raisin sized nipples dancing his tongue around and around them as I began moaning with unashamed pleasure. If our parents only knew they would both roll over in their grave, however, they died in a plane crash in the Caribbean Sea trying to deliver some charity to a Native tribe somewhere. 

I felt his hips aligning up with my body and I decided to spread my legs for him as the tip of his cock was softly pressed perfectly at my velvet opening to my sweet pinkness. My breathing became rapid and shallow as it felt like an eternity until I felt his push into me. I remember I was kissing him on the mouth sweetly when he finally gently pushed inside as he was looking into my eyes as he kissed me. I felt my nerve endings once more magically come to life as I felt his throbbing member invading my sweetness to the deepest parts of my pussy. I finally felt full when his cock hit my cervix and slid past before he pulled back almost to the very tip again. John knew it was perfect as again he entered to the hilt and back out. I thrust into him from under him this time as again he thrust deep and back out. 

It was when we developed the rhythm of the coupling that my body felt complete with his delicious cock crashing into my cervix again and again as my lover and brother kissed my mouth, fucked me deep. John held my hands over my head as he crashed over and over again as I moaned, crying out in ecstasy. I felt him fucking me faster and faster, deeper and deeper, harder and harder, into my sopping wet velvet pussy. It was so perfect that I felt the orgasm slowly building into a deep slow monster. I then felt my brother kissing me pulling my hair and fucking me like an animal grunting and moaning as he fucked inside me over and over again. 

I was pushing back feeling his every inch pounding into me now I could hear the slap, slap, and slap of his scrotum against my ass with each hard deep pounding stroke into my pussy when without warning I had an enormous orgasm. Squirt after squirt of pussy juices exited me as my brother smiled and continued fucking me perfect and hard. I was scratching the covers and pulling his hair as I kissed him deeply then I felt his arms lock up. He gripped my hands tighter as my fingers lost blood looking pale white as he held me down and released his seed into me. It was the very first time I felt so alive and the first time I felt so loved at the very same time. My brother fucked me silly and I completely loved it and knew there was no other man for me. 

Brenda came over two days later when I had a moving truck in the front of our house and my brother wasn't there. Brenda said, "So I see John moved you in here, huh? Wow, he didn't waist anytime did he?" 

I smiled wicked like and said, "Yeah, supposedly a whore has moved out of his life and he had to replace her with a real classy lady. See the whore would rather be chasing the wrong rooster because she is a stupid bitch like that." 

Brenda got angry then said, "Be careful little sister because if I want to I will move you out and be right back in here tomorrow if you're not careful." 

I smiled inside knowing when one of the movers asked, "What about this item Ma'am the clothing cabinet?" 

I responded, "Oh in the Master Bedroom dear thank you where you took the majority of the things." 

Brenda showed anger then said, "Oh, so you are just letting John sleep in the guest room and taking over?" 

I said, "Nope, just so you know I am his sister and he needs me to talk to him at night sometimes. Like when we were little children again except we are grown." I wanted to let her know so badly, how in the past thirty six hours, my brother and I fucked so deliciously but it wouldn't be wise with the pending divorce besides I had a way of getting the whore back later. Brenda got all that she came for and John was informed about everything after I gave him some great head. 

John was smiling when I woke up next to him the next morning after he treated me to three wonder fulfilling orgasms. I loved seeing his smile early in the morning. I got out of bed padding to the bathroom to urinate as John watched me the entire trip. I wiped and then as I walked back to the bed he said, "I love waking up to you in the morning this is perfect. I am in love with my surrogate." 

I kissed him full on the mouth and said, "I am in love with you, forever and always." 

Brenda found out like I said well after the divorce because she was trying to talk to John and I explained who and what I was for John. I know now I can probably never marry him but I am his surrogate wife forever and he is loyal to me as I am to him. 

The very moment that I explained the facts of life to Brenda I had to tell a jerk at work off because he copped a feel of my ass. I started to say you better hope my boyfriend doesn't find out but at the last minute said brother. The little guy named Hector tried sounding tough until I told my brother that he couldn't keep his hands to himself and my brother being the Alpha Male that he is simply walked over to Hector asking to speak to him. When Hector got within reach my brother grabbed Hector by the wrist and thumb twisting it into a wrist lock. He walked Hector over to me then said, "Tell my baby you're sorry you low life piece of shit. Tell my baby sister you're very sorry and won't ever touch her again." 

I noticed that John first said, "Tell my baby you're sorry," then he corrected it the second time. 

Hector wasn't paying any attention because he was almost crying with his hand and wrist almost being broken he said, "Sorry Danielle. I am so sorry Danielle for touching you and I won't ever do it again." My brother let him fall to the ground writhing in pain as he pushed Hector to the ground using his wrist as leverage nearly snapping it. 

Two hours later I was on my back with my brother's sweet fat cock sliding in and out of my velvet soft pussy with each stroke fucking me deliciously closer to an orgasm as it sawed in and out. Our rhythm increased and I could never get over how we had just been fucking for the past two weeks. I felt like his gifted cock was the only one I have ever known. I slowly began fucking him back rotating my hips into each thrust of his matching his rhythm. I was so hot and feeling so loved I told my brother, "Oh Yeah, that's it baby fuck my sweet pussy deeper and harder. Use your sister's little tight pussy and fucks her like the beast that you are. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me baby make me your whore God yes." 

I was talking shit to my brother and he certainly took heed as he grabbed my left tit and squeezed it hard as he started pounding harder, and harder. He fucked my pussy deeper and deeper pounding more and more. I was in my own heated world feeling every inch of his girth not only splitting my pussy but feeling absolutely incredible as I felt the orgasm in the second's right before my mind and body accepted it. I began losing control squirting with each pounding thrust of my brother's huge cock squirt after squirt, again and again. Then exhausted I screamed loud with the thrusting and pounding when I felt my brother let loose inside me as well. I know he's my brother but I truly love the way he fucks my sweet pussy. I am proud to be his surrogate wife forever. 

The End



The Surrogate



Ten minutes behind the closed door and I knew it was on. So, regret set in when it was too late to stop it. My wife was having sex with another man while I waited outside the room in the hallway. 

The man she hooked up with online was over 50, older than me. I guess she wanted someone experienced, mature, and kind, if the conventional wisdom is correct about older guys. Seeing as Beth Ann was a saucy thirty-nine year old with full breasts, long legs, and a classically pretty face, black hair, and hazel eyes, any older dude would count himself lucky to have her still ripe cunt offered up on a silver platter.

When the guy arrived—his name was Louis—he greeted me somewhat awkwardly and even hesitated to kiss Beth Ann hello. After all, he had answered an ad which solicited sex explicitly, not companionship, friendship, common interests, or any of that bullshit.  

She gets all the intellectual stimulation and emotional stimulation any woman could want from me. A good fucking was what she needed.

The accident left me impotent, not just sterile or suffering erectile dysfunction; my cock is dead as a doornail. For five years, I've done my best to satisfy Beth Ann's libido orally. She has actually come while I suckled her breasts as well as in response to cunnilingus. We have even tried face-sitting, ass licking, and armpit licking. 

At first, that was enough, but my complete lack of sex drive made eating out her vagina or anus more of a chore and she grew tired of going through the motions herself. For months we discussed the options, even considering inviting friends or relatives to be Beth Ann's fuck buddies. Finally, we decided on using online "personals," though we don't yet know whether this man is to be her regular gig or if she will circulate among many lovers. 

After fifteen minutes, I stopped pretending not to notice the noises coming from beyond the door: the creaking of the bed frame, a masculine sigh, a feminine moan, a rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings, voices murmuring low, smacking of lips, and the ripple of laughter. At first, I wanted to cry, but soon I realized Beth Ann was having a good time and that was why we came here.

An hour and a half passed and my wife emerged from the bed chamber with her lover. I was struck by his appearance, calm and expressionless, appearing even older, at least 60 I was thinking now, rather than enervated by his erotic melding with my saucy bride. 

Louis stiffly shook my hand and thanked me. As he turned to leave with his suit coat draped over his arm, Beth Ann said, "Hey, you!" Then she slung her arm around his shoulder and kissed him in a long, slow, romantic way. Doing that right in front of me almost made me cry. 

Beth Ann was red cheeked and flushed, her lipstick smeared, flecks of eyeliner dotted her crow's feet, and her odor was strong beneath her clothes. I smelled her perspiration, his sex, her sex, and her stale breath as she wheeled me to the elevator.

"How was it?" I expected her to answer by saying nice, okay, or not so good. Instead she launched a line-by-line description.

"We laid on the bed kissing for a long time at first, and then he began to undress me, one piece of clothing at a time. He didn't touch any of my erogenous parts until he finished taking my clothes off..."

"What was the last thing to come off?" I asked as the elevator's bell sounded to indicate the basement. 

"My panties," she said almost shyly. "They were already wet and he sniffed them." She paused. "Then he went down on me."

"Was it good?" I asked while she spun my chair around and pulled me backwards through the lift's doorway.

She pushed me through the parking garage and made a sucking sound with her lips. "Ooh, yeah! His fuzzy tongue got all up inside my fleshy parts. He made my pussy tingle and swallowed a lot of my juices. I got so wet!"

We came to the van and she clicked the remote to unlock the doors.

"So, after that, I undressed him and got acquainted with his manhood."

"Does he have a big cock?"

Beth Ann methodically nodded her head and whispered, "Long and fat ... It tasted different from yours, more metallic, and the texture was rougher, but I liked sucking his cock because he moved it around in my mouth, rubbing against my cheek and the roof of my mouth. He made it fun."

"What else?" I inquired as I lifted myself from the chair and grabbed the side rail inside the van. I used my forearms to hold myself up and Beth Ann wrapped her arms around my waist to pull me inside the van. 

Although there is nothing wrong with my arms—in fact, I can bench-press 300 pounds—my caregiver wife pulled the shoulder strap and lap belt around me and snapped them. Then she kissed my mouth before deftly folding my wheelchair and stowing it behind the backseat. She looked athletic and youthful as she trotted around to get into the passenger side.

"The first time he slipped his prick into my cunt, he rubbed the tip against my mons and clitty. He made me wiggle and giggle ... It felt nice."

I turned the ignition. "The first time, you say? How many times did old Louie fuck you?" 

Reaching into the front seat compartment for a small pump bottle of hand sanitizer, she answered, "Three times in my va-jay-jay and once in my bum-bum." She rubbed the goop all over her fingers and hands, making a squishy noise.

"Did he come in your mouth," I asked, keeping my eyes ahead while driving out of the parking garage and onto the street.

"I sucked his prick a lot, but I didn't let him come. That would be too intimate, wouldn't it?" 

Beth Ann paused to sip from an already opened water bottle left in the car. 

"I licked his spunk off our fingers and stuff. He tasted kind of bitter."

I sped the van down Boylston Street to Commonwealth Avenue. "Didn't you use a condom?" I asked sharply.

"Of course, we did," she answered irritably. "A bunch of them ... He kept changing them." 

Beth Ann paused as if lost in thought for a few seconds. 

"He has droopy balls ... and I think he rubbed cologne down there."

I laughed, "It must be an old man's thing."

She nodded, smiled, and sipped some more water. We spoke no more till we got home.

In the garage, Beth Ann hopped out of the minivan and did her standard "clear the way" routine for me: turning on the stairway and hallway lights, opening the door at the top of the stairs, and making sure my indoor electric wheelchair was ready to go while I waited in the front seat. She scurried back to the van, hoisted me into her arms as if I were no heavier than a bag of groceries. 

While she carried me up the stairs, I clicked to close the garage door and locked the van. I always kissed her on the cheek whenever she carried me this way, like a baby. I guess it must be an instinctive or impulsive reaction to her strength in the light of my helplessness. 

My goddess effortlessly carried me to the spare bedroom and carefully deposited me on the elevated cot we use as a changing table. My arms were bulked up from pumping iron, wheeling my chair, and pinioning myself around the house, but Beth Ann's rippling little muscles—biceps, triceps, and rotator cuff—were sexier than her jiggling titties. 

I laid still and twirled my fingers in her curly black hair while she unlatched my belt, unhooked my pants at the waistband, and unzipped my fly before pulling my dress slacks down to my ankles. She turned her head away as she untied and removed my shoes and socks. 

"Do you want to see Louie again?" I asked, amusing myself by using the word 'see' euphemistically to mean screw. 

"We made a tentative date for next Saturday again," she said matter-of-factly. "He's Louis. I don't think he likes being called Lou or Louie." 

She slipped my pants off my atrophied legs and lifted my hips from the sheet-covered cot to remove my plain white boxer shorts. I felt none of this.

Beth Ann lifted the urine-filled bag attached to my catheter and said, "Wow, feel that." I placed my palm under the plastic sack and felt its heaviness. "It looks cloudy, too."

"Must be the wine at dinner," I offered as she detached the bag and laid it on the multi-shelved supply table next to where she was working on me. She would dump the contents, a full liter of piss, into the toilet later. She retrieved a fresh, smaller baggie and a clear tube from the shelves. 

I watched as if she were touching someone else while she held my limp weenie between two fingers and used her other hand to pull a string to deflate the balloon inside my bladder. She yanked it out and tossed it toward the wastebasket in one deft motion. She lovingly wiped my penis, my fat little head, and my flattened testicles using a moist cloth and flowery scented lotion. 

Then she opened the tiny hole in the head of my dickie and inserted a fresh catheterization tube. As it coursed its way from my urethra to my bladder, I felt a familiar pinching and flinched. "I wish I could feel something on the outside like that." 

"So do I," she said as she attached the new bag to the open end of the tube. I saw in her eyes a hint of redness and tearing up, but she didn't start to cry. 

"Do you wanna hook up with a lot of different guys?" I asked Beth Ann. 

My wife said, "Yes, that'll be more fun than fucking the same old surrogate stud all the time." She turned her attention to the colostomy bag tied to my hip. She took it off, wiped the spout coming out of my stoma, and held the full bag out for us both to view. 

She sniffed its contents and wrinkled her nose. "Let's lay off rich food for awhile, okay, hon?"

"Next time I want to watch." I made the statement flatly as she rolled me onto my side. 

"Are you sure you want to watch me sucking my boyfriends' cocks and see them feeling up my breasts and fucking my pussy?" 

I said yes, and I barely felt her hands rubbing my buttocks with a warm cloth, then cleansing my rectum, and applying lotion. 

"You have new sores on your bum," she said with a whine, pausing before wiping my inner thighs. "And you still have that rash in back of your legs. I have to get some ointment." With that comment, Beth Ann turned to grab a tube and I felt a sense of loss, longing for her touch to return. 

"Remember our first date?" I asked her as she finished cleaning up my ass and returned me to lying on my back.

"Ha!" she howled with laughter. "How can I forget? I was a nice little parochial school virgin and you charmed my panties off."

"Nobody forced you to go down on me in the movie theatre ... on our first date." I teased her about that all the time. I smiled as she slipped a white cloth diaper under my butt cheeks and wrapped it around me. 

"It was love at first bite!" she said, clicking her teeth for effect as she cinched my diaper with a pair of safety pins. As usual, she kissed the flesh of my belly as if I were a newborn and hoisted my two hundred fifty pounds of bulk, which weighed next to nothing for her superhumanly muscular loving arms. 

"I'd give anything to have an orgasm ... just one more time." She didn't respond to my declaration as she carried me out of the room.

"In the chair?" she asked, our faces near enough to smell each other's skin and breath.

"No," I said, touching the tip of my tongue to her moist pink lips. "Take me to bed." Then we kissed, tongues fluttering and spittle drooling. "I wanna eat you out."

"Oh, honey, I haven't even showered," she protested. "I know I smell badly. I've got Louis's funk all over me."

"I don't care," I said as she laid me down on our king-sized bed. "I crave your taste."

She hovered over me, looking angelic, and kissed me chastely. "Okay, let me go pee first."

I pulled aside the blanket and covers and dragged my dead-weight legs under them while she was gone. She returned and furiously ripped off her clothing, getting naked before climbing over me on the bed on all fours and hovering above me. 

I looked up at her delicious and frighteningly powerful vagina as she lowered her haunches over my anxiously waiting lips. Her ass and cunt danced on my face for an hour. She squirted in my mouth so many times I lost count.

When I first awakened in the ICU after my accident and realized my legs and genitalia were stone cold dead, I hated being still alive. 

Now, savoring the flavor of Beth Ann's pussy and ass, and looking forward to watching her fucking her chosen lovers silly, I'm glad to be alive. What an amazing woman!



The Surrogate Blowjob, That Wasn't!



I’m writing this on behalf my wife, Sheila, of many years. Through the years she’s had some great ideas, but kind of loses it when she gets ready to put it in writing.  Recently Sheila had surgery in her mouth, and had to hold back on loving me orally which is my favorite. A big birthday is coming up real soon and she is concerned that she will not heal in time. One of her gifts to me is to give me the very best blowjob I ever imagined, experienced or even dreamed. Sheila decided to interview girls who could possibly give me a surrogate blowjob. She wanted to narrow the field down to four finalist, and allow me to have an input regarding who from the four will be the winner.

With a month-in-a-half to go she advertised discreetly on the Internet, and in some adult papers. Her ad was simply and right to the point:

“Loving wife needs a little help from you. Husband’s important birthday needs to be properly celebrated. A wound from my untimely operation will most likely not heal in time. I’m looking for an oral achiever. She needs to be a looker and may need to provide references. Be prepared to explain your best oral experience and why you should be the one selected. You will be handsomely compensated.”

It seems amazing, but Sheila received over a hundred responses. Finally, narrowing the field down to four girls. This was their initial response, and the result of their interviews: 

The first of the four girls was a Drew Barrymore look-alike. In fact she doubled for her in the most recent Charlie’s Angels movie. Her name was Annie Bolton. She met my wife in a diner, and after the initial pleasantries, ordered coffee, and mentioned that she grew up on a farm before getting into acting. 

Annie was built well, 5' 6" tall in her mid to late twenties. She had dirty-blond hair and wore it about 2 inches below the shoulder, wore no bra, she didn’t need one. Nature was kind, as her 36B boobs stuck out proudly, capped by the vision of her generous cleavage. Wearing a low-cut blue blouse, light blue shorts, and a pair of black boots with 3-inch heels, she was a natural beauty. 

Annie was asked to explain some of her expertise with fellatio. Telling my wife, that her first sexual experience was giving a blowjob without ever being touched. She was just 17, in the barn and was secretly watching one of the cowboys washing up after a full days work. Since she was the owner’s daughter, the hired help was not even allowed to speak to her, let alone touch her. Duke was the fellow washing up, and Annie felt her nipples harden and a longing feeling between her legs as she watched this 22 year old getting ready for a night on-the-town, in her barn. Duke, considered to be a real sought-after stud, looked like he was changing his underwear, but instead he took off the old one and put his wranglers back on commando-style. 

Getting a glimpse of his flaccid member, got the best of Annie as she felt a her panties dampen. She decided to touch the wet area, and made a scratching noise and was soon discovered by Duke. He looked down at her an laughed. Annie begged him not to tell. He promised he wouldn’t. Annie felt compelled to seal the promise. She asked to see Duke’s pecker up-close. Since he wasn’t allowed to touch her she didn’t feel threatened. He unzipped his fly to let her get a closer look. She tentatively touched and took Duke’s dick in her hand and kissed it. As it got harder, Duke dropped his pants. Annie put his cock in her mouth and little-by-little sucked it like a lollipop. She tasted some precum, out of instinct she cupped his balls, gently massaged and pulled on them. She felt Duke’s dick throbbing, getting harder, his balls were contracting and his knees seemed to buckle. 

Annie didn’t know what was happening, but soon felt Duke’s gism all over her face and on top of her blouse. She buried her clothes, the blouse and pants and she snuck into the farmhouse, in just her bra and panties. On many occasions Duke told her that she gave the very best blowjob anyone has ever given him and he’s had quite a few. Annie smiled after relating the story and added that as she got older she has been able to swallow and not spill a drop of that precious fluid, and she is eager and when can she start. My wife quickly replied: “I’ll let you know Annie, but you certainly seem to be the type I’m looking for.”

Next girl was a dead-ringer for Demi Moore. She met Sheila in the same diner with the 50s motif. Candy showed up wearing tan leather pants with a matching leather vest, which barely covered her boobs, and boots with stiletto heels. She was stacked, 5' 8" tall with 38C breasts, obvious implants. Candy had the kind of butt men and women would just stair at; perfection in motion. Her black hair was down to the middle of her back. 

When prompted about her oral experience Candy started her story, that prior to acting she was a commodity broker. She has made huge sums of money in a field dominated by men. Her most memorable experience was with Al, who hired her even though she had very little experience as an office manager. Al, a short balding man with a slight middle aged paunch, was in the midst of signing a large account when he summoned her into his office. 

Noone else was in the room when he started moaning with the excitement of the huge deal. He was trying to teach Candy the business, but in his excitement he reached for and put her hand on his crotch. Not wanting to get fired she massaged him and soon took his cock out of his pants and dropped onto her knees. She kissed the head and soon licked the underside of the erect cock. She reached in his pants and fondled his balls. The large deal was going well, and so was the blowjob. 

It was agreed that Candy will send all the paperwork via overnight mail to the client and it will be returned the next day. The deal represented fifty percent increase in revenue for Al’s company. Feeling and tasting precum, Candy was bobbing up and down and squeezing Al’s balls, feeling their contraction, as he was agreeing to terms with the new client, Al hung up the phone and came in Candy’s mouth who swallowed every drop. Soon after, Al promoted Candy to a broker, gave her some decent accounts, and she in turn gave Al blowjobs he’d always remember. Candy also asked when she could start, and Sheila just smiled and replied: I’ll let you know as soon as I make my selection”.

The third girl was blonde, with shoulder-length hair with dark blue eyes, she looked very much like Cameron Diaz. In order to be fair, Sheila decided to meet all four girls at the same diner. Casey wore a clingy black dress that hung to every curve of her body, with a seductive slit on the left side and wearing Italian black pumps with 4 inch heels. She was in her early thirties, 5'4" tall with 36B boobs, sensational lips and legs that seem to go up to her waist. Casey seemed to be wearing no underwear, she was as gorgeous coming as going. 

As before, Sheila asked Casey what would give her the inside track when the selection process was over. Casey began her story, she started in construction as a secretary. Many of the deals made in construction are made in conference rooms. Casey used to bring coffee and rolls into the meetings. 

Later she would be asked to take notes, and still later she actually was responsible for completing some of the smaller projects. This involved Casey’s negotiating and dealing with the respective clients. It is during one of these meetings that her client was seriously considering doubling the project ran by Casey. Dave, the client’s representative, called Casey and asked her to meet him for dinner. 

Dave obviously been drinking long before the dinner. Casey met him at a Chinese restaurant, and after some cocktails and dinner, she found herself in Dave’s limousine. With the partition raised, and Casey without any underwear, Dave was soon taking liberties most would think inappropriate. He pawed her breasts, and fingered her clean-shaven pussy. Knowing that Dave was married, Casey decided to finish him as best as she could without any entanglements on her part. She unzipped Dave’s pants and helped him wiggle it down to his ankles. Having drank more than he should, Dave’s pecker was too soft and needed much attention. 

Casey tried everything with her hands, trying get his cock erect, she soon kissed the head and kneaded his balls. Dave’s 2 “ pecker stirred and started to slowly grow. Casey took a 1/4 in her mouth and found it to grow even more. Dave now was about 3/4 hard and growing. At a full 6 1/4 inches Dave was rock-hard and Casey was bobbing up and down, tasted some precum and squeezed his balls. She replaced her mouth with her right hand and continued to pump Dave’s pecker, as she alternated taking each ball in her mouth. Feeling Dave to be on the brink she took all of his cock in her mouth and kneaded his balls as he emptied into her waiting mouth. When she swallowed the last of his gism he fell asleep. 

Casey fixed her dress and the chauffeur dropped her off near the Chinese restaurant, where Casey’s car was parked. The next day she received the signed addendum, which doubled the contract she was in charge of. Casey was also told that she’ll be notified as soon as the results are in and a decision is made.

The fourth and final finalist was a Lucy Lui look alike. Her name was Kim Downs. She wore a skintight red silk jumpsuit with a zipper down the front for easy access, and red leather boots with 4 inch heels completed her outfit. A well endowed young lady, 5' 2" tall, in her mid thirties, with black piercing eyes, black wavy hair down to the middle of her back and a figure that most women would die for and all men would want to worship. Kim’s 34C boobs had to be implants for they literally stood motionless as she walked into the diner over to the table to meet Sheila. 

When asked of her most sensual oral sexual encounter, she explained that she also had an occupation dominated by men so she worked hard as a purchasing agent by day and played raquetteball harder with men at night. Kim felt necessary to mention that she also earned a black belt in karate. During one of her daytime negotiations, as they agreed to terms, her vendor counterpart, Alex, suggested that they play raquetteball after work and have dinner to seal the great deal, for their respective companies. Kim agreed, but warned Alex that she was very competitive. 

The match was set for 6PM. Alex was a good looking guy, with dark brown hair, in his early thirties. He walked on to the court first and was warming up when Kim came in wearing shorts that barely covered her gorgeous undercarriage. She had on a sports bra that even accentuated her boobs, which made Alex swallow hard. They played three matches and though Alex tried to be competitive, Kim beat him with ease. Turns out that Alex also dabbled in the martial arts and mentioned that he took it easy on her because after all Kim was a girl. Alex was soaking wet, and Kim was barely glistening. 

They showered, went to dinner and throughout the dinner Alex was challenging Kim to other things to prove that he was superior. She invited Alex in for a drink, and one thing led to another and Alex said that he can take Kim in wrestling. Kim got into position and with first contact flipped Alex who landed hard on his back with his head hitting the coffee table. He went out like a light. Kim checked his pulse and his breath, Alex seemed unconscious. She didn’t know what to do, but with Alex looking so good, in her apartment, Kim figured that maybe a blowjob will bring him back from his current state. 

She unzipped Alex’s pants and pulled it down to his knees. Turns out he wore no underwear. Kim looked at his flaccid state, shrugged and began playing with his cock and balls. If Alex was enjoying this Kim never knew for she saw virtually no reaction. She got on her knees and kissed Alex’s cock, and thought that she sensed some movement. She took most of his soft pecker in her mouth, working her tongue, and felt him start getting harder. She massaged the balls, by pulling on them and then kneading them. She soon had him hard as a rock, still no change in expression. 

She was really bobbing up and down when she tasted some pre-cum. Encouraged she squeezed his balls a little harder and felt them contract in her hand as he emptied his load, in three streams into her waiting mouth. Alex opened his eyes and smiled, and asked what happened. When Kim filled him in they laughed and had an all-night session of passion, neither would forget. Kim wanted to know how soon a decision will be made. Sheila explained that with my birthday 2 weeks away, we’ll meet with the four ladies and decide within the next week.

The next seven days were hectic as wanting to be fair Sheila came up with the same 3 questions for each girl, and decided that she would rate them with my help of course. Fortunately, I tell you this miracles do happen because by the time the meeting took place Sheila healed very nicely and we told the proposed surrogates that we will not need their services as this boy will get the very best blowjob by his very own honey. The ladies were disappointed, but felt happy that love does conquer after all. I for one can tell you that there is no reason to hire a surrogate when you have the real thing! Sheila was the best attending to EVERY detail! My birthday came and so did I, by the pint.