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Life, Sex & All That

By: Ianb



There are times in a person's life when you begin to question just who you are, where are you going and that sort of fundamental human dilemma. Today was just one of those occasions. There I was you see looking at this beautiful, exotic, creature before my eyes. She caught the glint in my eyes as she proceeded to slowly, carefully lick the long underside of her companions penis. Her tongue glistened with moisture as she ran up his shaft before returning to its base. Each time she gave it an ever so gentle flick of with her tongue as she gradually, ever so slowly increased her momentum. 

I can tell you I was spell bound. My eyes were fixed on hers as she became ever involved with her work and enjoyment. 

The man could do little as he was trussed up with his legs tied and his arms tied onto a rope around a high beam in the ceiling above. He was blind folded and appeared to be completely at the whim of the gorgeous creature before him. 

The without even blicking her eyes left mine as she moved ever so easily to take his penis into her mouth. Her head moved up and down, at first tentatively and then faster and faster until I could tell he was about to cum. About to spurt into her throat, with all the climatic ecstasy and excitement of an orgasm. 

My hands had moved down my front and around my penis. I began to move up and down until I too was about to explode infront of the scene being played out before me. It was all too much until I suddenly heard footsteps. Instantly I froze, they were coming closer and closer. I held my breath and quickly covered my erection just as my wife walked happily into the room. 

'Cup of tea dear?'

'Yep, great, thanks, lovely morning…'

You guessed it the excitement I had just experienced was of course happening in one of my few magazines I keep tucked away in a secret place under the bed. 

My reality returned, my life resumed with the TV playing in the living room, the children arguing, the dog jumping on me in a now rather renter spot and my wife bringing me a morning cup of tea. 

Susan, looked at me a little suspiciously, perceptively sensing my only too familiar reaction.

'I know what you've been doing'

'Me nothing darling, just sitting here enjoying the morning, the happy sounds of our wonderful family…..'

Before I could finish she came closer and with our eyes locked together she quielty slipped her hand under the dooner cover. 

'What's this then?'

'Just thinking of you dear'

'And what's this a magazine on gardening?'

' Just doing research dear. Like pop stars do'

I might add that Susan hadn't let go of my penis at this stage and continued to gently massage it before gripping my balls and squeezing them really, really hard. 

I lunged forward in pain trying not to make too much noise. Luckily the TV seemed to have an endless array of equally loud screams and shrieks emanating from it at that time. 

Just at that moment Emma our little girl made it known that her elder brother had just done something diabolical to her.

Susan let go and quickly covered up the book in question.

'We'll talk about this tonight, OK' 

'OK, sure'

Susan left. I should say at this point that like many husbands I sometimes have no idea what my wife really thinks. Even though we have been together for quite sometime I still find it hard to fathom her out. I think it is female ploy or plot to keep us guessing depending on my conspiracy theory paranoia at the time. 

I simply couldn't tell if she was really mad with me or not. I guess I would have to wait until tonight when the kids were finally asleep. 

***

'Alright we need to talk.'

'Yes dear, I'm really sorry it won't happen again, I promise, never.. I'll get rid of them tomorrow.'

'Tonight….'

'Fine, absolutely, tonight'

'I meant tonight I want you to show me the mags and explain to me what it is you see in them.'

'Ah .. Right, absolutely, fine..'

'I fell out of bed and began the rather undignified antics of retrieving my sinful mags from under the bed.'

Once in my possession I wiped the dust from my cloths and began to undress. Susan in the meantime began to flick through the pages. I sort of whistled and didn't quite know where to look. 

'Just off to the bathroom dear, back in a minute'

Once there I looked in the mirror. On to those life questioning looks. How could I be doing this. Here I am a respectable accountant with more certificates in taxation that anyone else in the department. And what have I just done, presented my respectable, accountants wife with a collection of porn mage. I could loose everything, my wife, my job, my kids to say nothing of my beloved pussy. (No it’s a real cat called Sarah whom I adore).

"Ok, That's it" I thought. I'll go back in there, take the mags and shred them tonight and hope she will forgive me. 

'How can you like this stuff Brian?'

'I don't, well I think its disgusting. Give them to me and I'll shred them, promise…'

'You're a bit of a fraud you know. You would never do this stuff and yet you get your rocks off looking at it.'

'Quite'

'I mean look at this'

'I know its disgusting.'

'Look at that girl wearing all that leather with a whip in hand. And as for him. What sort of a man would let himself be tied up with nothing on except a blindfolded and be beaten. What a whimp!'

I began to look over her shoulder.

'Yes … I see what you mean. A mere mouse.'

'Look at his penis. Its enormous. Much bigger than yours.'

I tried to say something deep and meaningful about quality versus size but somehow it quite seem the right time for such a discussion.

I was now quite naked and without any respite this morning I was standing at my proudest. 

Susan then began to look from the page to me. I sort of held it out and tried rather unsuccessfully to, how can I say it, extend myself a little. It didn't work of course. 

'Well those images are enhanced. You know they can make things seem bigger, rounder and redder than they really are. I bet he's not like that in real life.

I quickly slipped into bed. 

I noticed though that Susan's hand had quietly found its way under the doona and seemed to moving, massaging in the general location of her pussy as she continued to look at the goings on in the magazine. 

'My goodness look at that! How can they do that?'

'Are well it appears that she is now whipping him while he's fucking her.' 

' Well I much prefer books. Stories are much more fun than this. Its too crude and obvious. I mean look at this one.'

The girl in the picture had just pulled away from yet another huge cock which was spurting out in all its glory into her mouth and over her pretty face. I of course tried to rise above it so to speak and agreed whole heartedly that it was disgusting. Unfortunately my penis had a mind of its own and shot up even further. Susan raised the doona to see for herself the effect it was having.

'Typical male. That’s all you think about.'

Susan took hold of my penis anyway just to prove that she was right. And as always she was. She began to move her hand up and down my shaft while still managing to turn over the pages of my mag with her other hand. I was ecstatic. My mind was almost out of control. All that pent up stress was finally going to be released. I looked over to her and gently stroked her face with my middle finger. It seems to be more sensitive in a way. My finger followed her cheek and down her neck to her shoulder before running toward her breast. It responded to my touch as I circled her nipple as lightly as I could. 

She had now moved her hand further down to my ball and began kneading them as though they were dough. It felt great. 

Meanwhile my finger had progressed it journey further down to the forbidden territory. To paradise, to her fanny. I just loved it to bits and boy was she hot tonight. My fingers just seemed to slip in to her with such little effort it was like dipping your finger into jelly. I began to rub her clit. She relaxed and then tensed as she responded to my movements. 

With a not so gentle pull she tugged at my penis to let me know now was the moment. I climbed on top and lowered my penis into her. Deep inside before pulling back, then in and out. She responded by playing with herself and touching me at the same time. 

'Ahhh, talk dirty..'

'Accrued interest, overdraft, percentage increase, profit….'

Susan sure knows how to turn on an accountant when she want to. 

That was it for me. I began to spurt, shudder as I exploded my spunk into her. Susan too had just reached her peak as she came with wave after wave of orgasms.

In the afterglow I lay back with a smile and the exhausted self satisfaction which comes after making love. And of course the inevitable conversation.

'That was great. How was it for you?'

Of a chaps ego is fully in tact on such occasions and any well deserved complements are always taken in one's stride.

'Ok.'

'Ok. What do you mean Ok. I was great. It was sensational sex. Surely it can reat a little better than just Ok!'

'What do you want me to say. "Yes darling you were wonderful. I just lay back and thought o England you know while you were fucking me to your hearts content.'

'Well words to that effect would be noce.'

'Brian I love you very much. You are my husband and the father of our kids. But you're not really… well… what I mean is you were not very experienced when we met and I guess it shows a little in your technique. No wonder you need to look at those mags.'

'Are you saying I'm a terrible lover just because I'm not build like a donkey?'

'Well you are about average. In size I mean. Not too small or too big.'

'Well that's just great. Maybe I should rub some fertiliser n it each night.'

'It more your technique Brian. I guess you're just a little unimaginative. I mean you are an accountant.'

I got out of bed in a real state. 

'Fine after all these years together you let m know now. Why now, why not last year or when we first me.'

'Because I knew you would take it the wrong way. All I'm saying is you could improve a bit. It doesn't mean I don't love you. But sex is just sex. Like anything else you can always be better.'

'And just how do you suggest I go about becoming better!'

I was really on my high horse now. I mean this goes to the very core of our existence. When we are as men. Our penis rides as high as our pride and all that sort of thing. Well I can tell you mine was not very high at this particular moment - my pride or may penis. Why do modern women have to be so forthright.

'Well I don't know. You could research it I suppose. After all you do do that well.'

'Research it!'

'Come back to bed Brian, I'm tired and I need to get to sleep.'

I got back into bed with my most sulkiest sulk I could conjure up and just lay there for a while.

Susan lent over, gave me a kiss and said 'Cheer up you weren't that bad and it could be fun. Just think of it as a challenge. I'll tell you what. If you improve your technique enough to satisfy me I'll let you have any fantasy you want with me. How's that for an idea?

I was just dumbfounded. I just didn't know what to say and by the time I did Susan was quietly, and evenly breathing in her sleep.

***

Chapter Two The Search Begins.

Would anyone like to be Susan and tell her side of the story?

Life, Sex & All That Ch. 02



I awoke at 6.45 to the sounds of stirring down the hall in the children’s room, it was Saturday and no school, but that never seemed to matter, once they awoke the new day was theirs to explore. How I yearned to snuggle up to my husband and revive the passion of the days before our parenthood, too often any intimacy between us was interrupted by the children or the phone. If I did not get up they would be jumping all over us and the least I could do was give Brian a sleep in. 

He was a good provider and father but the comfort of time together, the commitments of family and business had dulled the passion once so much enjoyed. As I slipped out of bed and into the living room I fondly glanced at his face in peaceful sleep, the lines beginning to indicate the onset of middle age, the greying stubble and the beginnings of a receding hair line. Mmmm I thought, I wonder how he saw me after all this time. Yes, there certainly were a few extra pounds and laughter lines about my eyes, despite my efforts to remain attractive and sexy. 

After fixing breakfast for the children and allowing the T.V. to be turned on, I thought he must be awake by now, so with a cup of tea in hand I opened the door to our bedroom. At the same time the slap of a closing magazine, the arm quickly flying from beneath the doona and that very guilty look made my heart sink. Why did he need to look at those magazines he kept beneath the bed in order to get off? When I wanted and needed him. Did my mother and housekeeping role make me less attractive? Had I simply become more familiar or had he tired of me?

Too often in the evening he would be asleep before I had cleaned my teeth or if I slid my fingers down along his lower abdomen more often than not he complained he was too tired… may be in the morning.

In the morning…. Impossible! The daily routine, the ringing of the telephone or the children invading the bedroom, there was no chance for even a quickly. So sadly our life had slipped into a familiar acceptance of each other and he was content to get his rocks off looking at those plastic young girls in the magazines.

'Cup of tea dear?'

'Yep, great, thanks, lovely morning…' I looked at Brian suspiciously. 

'I know what you've been doing'

'Me nothing darling, just sitting here enjoying the morning, the happy sounds of our wonderful family…..'

I went closer and with our eyes locked together I quietly slipped my hand under the doona cover. 

'What's this then?' 'Just thinking of you dear'

'And what's this a magazine on gardening?'

' Just doing research dear. Like pop stars do'

In my hurt I could not resist meanly squeezing the base of his penis but before I could inflict further pain our daughter interrupted with a complaint about her brother.

'We'll talk about this tonight, OK, I want you to show me the mags and explain to me what it is you see in them.'

'OK, sure.'

I went back to the kitchen feeling rejected and angry. What had happened to us, life was passing bye and with it were we growing apart?

As I went about the morning chores my mind was a whirl of confusion? What did he really want? What does he see in the magazines? What was I lacking? Should I try taking the initiative more often? In the past that never seemed to work, Brian would either act embarrassed or laugh of my attempts to come on to him. That resulted in my backing off in embarrassment and frustration. I guess being a boring accountant he could not bring himself to be a bit more wild and exciting. I wish he would be more overt but we had married with little experience and the very strict religious up bringing made both of us rather shy and I certainly found it hard to overcome my inhibitions. As the day progressed I planned my strategy for our “ talk”

'Alright we need to talk.'

'Yes dear, I'm really sorry it won't happen again, I promise, never.. I'll get rid of them tomorrow.'

'Tonight….'

'Fine, absolutely, tonight.'

'I meant tonight I want you to show me the mags and explain to me what it is you see in them.'

'Ah .. Right, absolutely, fine..'

I nonchalantly flipped through the pages of the magazines making cryptic comments as I went, becoming bolder as I noticed Brian’s deepening embarrassment. As his agitation increased I became even more game and began massaging my pussy. This seemed to give Brian the idea that the magazines were turning me on, which they were, but more it was an excuse to try and encourage him to give me what I needed.

I then took hold of his penis and began to stroke it while still managing to turn over the pages of his mag with my other hand. It seemed to be working, he looked over towards me and gently stroked my face, he traced his fingers down my neck toward my breast, my nipples responded as he circled them lightly. The images on the pages were a blur. Brian was actually teasing me in a way he had not done in years I was electric with anticipation. His hands worked their way down and he found my wetness, the magazine fell to the floor as he turned me towards him, at last I thought, he really wants me, but please keep teasing more and for longer. Please rub my G spot, please go down on me. But NO. He entered me all too quickly pumping hard and fast OHHHHH he growled as he came, Ohhh I purred squeezing my vaginal walls together… faking orgasm.

In the afterglow I lay back… then as always the inevitable conversation.

'That was great. How was it for you?'

As the male ego is a fragile thing on all occasions how could I say that I wanted to scream….   ‘You left me high and dry’ … instead I just mumbled 

'Ok.’

Then in wounded pride Brian followed with 

‘What do you mean Ok. I was great. It was sensational sex. Surely it can rate a little better than just Ok!'

'What do you want me to say I gulped trying not to loose my composure. "Yes darling you were wonderful”. I just lay back and thought of England you know while you were fucking me to your hearts content.'

'Well words to that effect would be nice.' He pouted angrily.

Quickly I tried to soothe his anger. 'Brian I love you very much. You are my husband and the father of our kids. But you're not really… well… what I mean is you were not very experienced when we met and I guess it shows a little in your technique. No wonder you need to look at those mags.'

'Are you saying I'm a terrible lover just because I'm not build like a donkey?'

'Well you are about average. In size I mean. Not too small or too big.'

'Well, that's just great. Maybe I should rub some fertiliser on it each night.'

'Its more your technique Brian. I guess you're just a little unimaginative. I mean you are an accountant.'

He then got out of bed in a real state. 

'Fine after all these years together you let me know now. Why now, why not last year or when we first me?'

Oh hell, I thought this is not going the way it should.

'Because Brian I knew you would take it the wrong way. All I'm saying is you could improve a bit. It doesn't mean I don't love you. But sex is just sex. Like anything else you can always be better.'

'And just how do you suggest I go about becoming better!' 

'Well I don't know. You could research it I suppose. After all you do that well.'

'Research it!'

'Come back to bed Brian, I'm tired and I need to get to sleep.' He got back into bed in the sulkiest sulk he could conjure up and just lay there for a while.

I lent over, gave him a kiss and said, 'Cheer up you weren't that bad and it could be fun. Just think of it as a challenge.’

I was fully planning to do some research also!

I'll tell you what. If you improve your technique enough to satisfy me I'll let you have any fantasy you want with me. How's that for an idea?

What courage it had taken to bruise his ego, but I knew it was the only way we were going to get back on track and find the romance and excitement of our youth.

Next Chapter Let the Research Begin



Life, Sex & All That Ch. 03



“Research it!” But how do I research it?

‘Brian, that’s what we have just been talking about, haven’t you been listening?’

I shook myself and realised where I was. In the middle of our regular, excruciatingly boring Monday morning meeting. The principal purpose of which seemed to be for all of us to listen to Gabriella our new, up and coming CEO talking about the new Company image. She is an image-maker. In truth the sole purpose of our Company centred on her, and her ambitions. 

‘Yes, absolutely, just thinking about your points.’

No not her boobs although they do serve as a pleasant distraction when she is presenting some new, exciting project to the Board, which is mainly, designed to assist her along her inevitable career path. The fact that I had usually thought up the idea as well as doing all the work never seemed to dull her sense of self importance.

I am an accountant you see. As the old joke goes, ‘What do accountants use as a contraceptive?’ Answer: 'their personality.'

My mind was on another kind of research today. My dearest wife, Susan, had decided our sex life wasn’t up to the mark. Well to be exact my performance was average or words to that effect.

I might be an accountant, good old reliable Brian, but I also have feelings and being a bloke I am particularly sensitive when it comes to my sexual prowess.

Our conversation last night had left me a little flummoxed to say the least.

I couldn't’t get her words out of my mind.

'Because, Brian I knew you would take it the wrong way. All I'm saying is you could improve a bit. It does not 't mean I don't love you. But sex is just sex. Like anything else you can always be better.'

'And just how do you suggest I go about becoming better?' 

'Well I don't know. You could research it I suppose. After all you do do that well.'

Research it! What did she mean?

‘It could be fun. Just think of it as a challenge.'

I think with my right-brain. Sometimes I think I don’t actually have a left-brain at all, so for me to try and fathom out what she is wants me to do is almost impossible. I love her dearly, we have been together since we were practically children but sometimes I don’t understand a word she is saying.

As for her last few words before she happily drifted into a self-satisfied sleep , I have no idea what they were about.

‘ I'll tell you what. If you improve your technique enough to satisfy me I'll let you have any fantasy you want with me. How's that for an idea?’

Me have a fantasy! Women, I tell you they were sent to test us. Sometimes I think Adam should have left Eve behind, apples and all. Mind you she was the one who drew out Adams snake so maybe she was in control all along.

I left the meeting and managed to get through the rest of the day. I planned to keep working and dine in the city. Susan was planning to visit her mother with the kids this evening so I was relatively free – or so I thought. 

‘Brian make sure you have that report on my desk tomorrow morning first thing’ 

I didn’t even have to turn around, ‘Yes Gabrielle.'

I did manage to get it done in a sort of fashion, and left work late to find somewhere to eat and contemplate.

Sex, I thought. Where does an almost middle-aged man learn about sex. I could feel myself turning red even thinking about it.

Talk to a friend? Who? Blokes, I should remind you don’t actually talk about anything quite like this and certainly not the intimacies of their sexual relationships. Once the emptiness of adolescent boldness has evaporated there seems little reason to assume other than we are all satisfying our wives who beg us for more every night.

Women! 

As for sharing the fact that my wife thinks I am about average in performance with woman friend. Lets not even think about it. 

Sex was on my mind. As I wandered along the streets I found myself heading toward the red light district of the town. Well where else would you find out about sex?

My hungers lead me into a bar blazoned with red, flashing neon lights, motley garish carpet and a smoke haze which created an atmosphere of raw human instincts.

I hadn’t been in a place like this since my stag night, which I can’t really remember anyway. I kept my sunglasses on to maintain some sense of anonymity. I could barely see and tripped on a tear in the carpet. Retrieving my dignity I stepped over to the bar and realised that all the other men were also wearing sunglasses, holding their brief cases close with their bowler hats over their crotches.

I soon realised why. The barmaid was topless with boobs you would die for. They tantalised as she lent over to give me a glass of red. Its taste was disproportional to its price.

I ordered oyster ‘A Le-cart’, which seemed to be the only palatable item on the menu .Turning around my eyes began to focus and I realised there was a large table with a pole in the middle. Rapt around the pole was a young, attractive girl whose energy could only make one envious. I had only ever seen these sort of shows on TV in American detective movies in which it seems to be almost mandatory to interview a stripper. She beckoned me over. With all the dignity I could muster I walked over and sat at the table with the other men whose eyes were now transfixed onto the gyrating, erotic creature a few feet from our faces. 

I still felt detached. Her body was beautiful. Slim, small breasts and golden blond hair. As she rolled around the table she slipped off her remaining cloths and was now naked. I looked over to the guy next to me. His was rubbing himself as he watched and fantasised about the girl. Then he released his penis from the capture of his trousers. I watched. I had never seen a man with an erect penis before. Well not since my days at boarding school. 

Then without warning another girl appeared wearing a slight, very sexy skirt and bear breasts. She lent over him and whispered, ‘Need a hand’. As she did so she slipped her hand down to his penis and began to ever so slowly move it up and down. Then she stopped and whispered more. ‘Come with me and I’ll give you a good time.’ He was beyond answering and soon got up with her holding his penis and leading him to a darkened corner. 

Meanwhile my penis was well alight. The girl at the pole began moving her hands all over her body,playing with her boobs, running her fingers down between her legs. She had what appeared to be a possum’s tail ,which she moved over her body until it too was over her pussy, as she played with it while we all lapped up her youthful sensuousness.

I ate my oysters. I held them up and saw her pussy just in front of me. I felt them slipping down my throat.

I could smell cheep perfume. I sensed someone beside me. My glasses were fogging up. There was another young girl. Pretty, brunette, lots of makeup, a close fitting dress with loose buttons down her front. 

‘Hi, I’m Gabriella’

‘Ah’ I didn’t quite know what to say! Only now I would always see my boss in a slightly different way.

‘I'm Brian’ I stammered as I ogled her.

‘You want to buy me a drink Brian’

‘Sure’ I was transfixed. What had I got myself into here?

Almost immediately the drinks arrived, cheap wine but never the less expensive drinks.

By now I was feeling a little light headed which makes self-justification so much easier.

Susan did want me to research, and research I had begun.

‘So what are you doing here Brian?’

‘Ahh Well my wife..' but she interrupted me.

‘I know she doesn’t understand you and always wants more from you.’

‘How..’ I began.

‘Don’t worry, I understand and I can give you a good time to help you with this.’ She had her hand on my crotch which she was massaging tantalisingly slowly. 

Without warning she stood and indicated I follow her as she led me into a dark corner.

Just as I was about to sit down, I thought I saw someone watching me, Then she slipped out of sight the woman seemed somehow familiar, but I guess it was my conscious and fear of discovery.

Gabriella sat me with my back to the wall, she began to dance, her moves like a gymnast, playing with my legs. Every time I tried to touch her she firmly put my hands at my side. ‘No touch Brian.’

She was naked. She played with her pussy close to me. I hadn’t seen another woman’s pussy since before I was married and even then infrequently. I could seen her clit, her wetness,and I could smell her.

She sat on me. Moving, squirming, massaging with her bottom on my penis. Then she quickly let my throbbing hard on from the confines of my trousers. Playing with it, playing with herself, faster and faster. I was beyond any self control. Then suddenly I burst. Spunk shot in the air, flying high. She rubbed until it was over. Milking me for every drop. 

Then as though she had just severed me a drink or something equally innocuous she stood up, put her dress back on. 

‘That’ll be $100 Brian’

‘I, Ahh, I…’ A very large shadow had come over us like a huge monster. I had a feeling her support staff had just arrived.

****

I hadn’t realised before why business men travelling home on the late trains sat with their brief cases on their laps and seemed intent on reading the morning’s edition of the Financial times. That was until tonight when I had to cover a very embarrassing wet patch and to hide my face, which if scrutinised might reveal more than I may have wished.

I arrived home to a darkened house. Susan was already in bed and the porch light was not even left on to greet me. I managed to sneak into the bathroom and make a hasty cleaning attack on my trousers.

I slipped into bed hoping not to waken my sleeping and unsuspecting wife.

My head sank into the pillow. I was safe.

‘Finished your report then?’

I jumped. Partly through guilt, surprise and a knowledge of being sprung.

‘Yes, yes, all done thanks’

Silence, nearly asleep.

‘How is your research going?’

‘Ah still in the early stages Dear.’

‘Oh lets have a feel then, ' without any by your leave Susan grabbed my still lifeless manhood. It was a hard grab, a sort of where have you been type grab. I froze. 

‘Looks like its out of the question tonight then. You have been up to something.’

‘No, just a tiring day. You know end of year statements that sort of thing. Not a real turn on you know.’

Then to my dismay she turned the light on,looking at me straight in the eye.

‘I hope what you learnt tonight will make a difference.’

She had that knowing look which wives seem to acquire immediately upon uttering their wedding vows. It is a look, which can kill a man at a hundred paces without a word being fired. 

With that she switched off the light and turned over.

I stared at the ceiling now wide awake. Does she know? How could she? No she couldn't.

‘You might find some help on the internet you know’ was the comment that preceded her falling into a peaceful slumber.

****

Next Chapter Susan’s Research



Life, Sex & All That Ch. 04



Thank you kind readers for the encouragement so far. Unfortunately Chapter 5 was approved and posted before Chapter 4, hence the story is now some what disjointed. If you care to take the time to read this and then Chapter 5 all will become clear.

Chapter Four. Susan’s Suspicions

Sunday was a rather tense day to say the least! Brian, whilst not exactly sulking was decidedly distant. He took himself into his study ostensibly to work, but it was obvious he was keeping some distance between us. We were both uncomfortable with what had been said the night before and a bit of space was required. I made myself scarce taking the kids and a couple of their friends to the beach.

I felt for him, we all know the male ego so very fragile, but I rationalised if his ego was going to stand in the way of his objectivity he would have to bear the consequences. The opportunity had arisen and I had grabbed it,he now needed to rise to the occasion(so to speak)and come up with the goodies.

The week began with the normal routine. Brian was a little more sociable at breakfast but pitched much of his conversation to the kids. As he left for the office he coolly brushed his lips across my cheek mumbling about a very heavy schedule of meetings and client deadlines.

With the children deposited at the bus stop I sped home. If things were to improve on all fronts then I had better be well armed, my mind was totally occupied with my project.Where to begin my own research? How and where should I start my investigation? This was too private to talk to any one about, and it would be unfair to both Brian and myself if I confided in a friend. As I quickly went about my housework I mentally made a list of the possible places I might find the information I required. 

The obvious were - Magazines. Mmmmmm Yes, well now, that had been explored; not only by Brian, but I had also glanced through his collection during my weekly clean beneath the bed. Pondering the probable places men and women went to play out fantasies and frustrations or to have some sex on the side. There were topless bars and strip clubs, porn movie theatres, adult shops, brothels and street workers. Looking in the yellow pages I was amazed to find most of the above along with rather explicit advertisements. In the past I had idly glanced at the personal columns in the local newspaper, which were obviously another source where men and women found an outlet for whatever needs they sort. To physically investigate all of these options would take time as well as some embarrassment on my part, since my time was limited,I needed to decide exactly what I hoped I could lead Brian to discover.

Passing the study door my eyes rested on the computer. How obvious! A Google search should provide me with a springboard for my research. With mounting excitement I booted up and began. The results were amazing ……so many choices. Absorbed in my discoveries, moving from site to site, I pondered….. if all this material was on the net then certainly there was a demand for it. I was not alone in wanting some thing more. This was indeed very encouraging; there was nothing wrong with me or the frustration I was feeling. 

Time flew as I engrossed my self in the variety of material. What an education! My surfing was certainly an eye opener and wet my appetite, as well as my fanny. Film clips, there were so many samples, certainly could take some useful notes from the performances of the girls even if they did look rather bored and their partners displayed amazing stamina, well...by Brian’s standards anyway. There were certainly some good tips for both of us if I could lead him to discover these particular sites.Whilst browsing I could not help but ponder if the people on screen shaved or waxed. OK for a lady but, mmmmmmmmmmm waxing a blokes balls..ouchhhhhhh. 

Erotic stories, I have always loved the written word. Words are far more titillating than photographs or film clips. Brian was not an avid reader, impatient to find the bottom line, so to speak…no, he would not have the patience to sift through erotic or romantic stories, despite some wonderful descriptions of a romp I would love to have.

To my delight I discovered a site Literotica.com amongst the index I found a wonderful selection of ‘How To.’ The time ticked by as I devoured the advice - Blow Jobs for Dummies, Erogenous zones, What a Man Wants and A letter to his Wife ,now that article pulled me up short! Breaking the Rules of Sex and Marriage, here was advice both of us were perhaps in need of! How to Eat Pussy Like a Champ, I wanted Brian to read that one! However, I could hardly email all this to his office,nor could I print it and put it in with his lunch. Accountants either eat the home pack at their desk or entertain clients at boring clubs: Golf Club, Fishing Club, Cricket Club or if very adventurous Football Club … Ho Hum!

Then adult toys, that was a real education what a variety, and the application of these toys. Rocket science was not needed to work out what they were supposed to be used for. Brian would freak out if I produced any such item and there were some he would certainly be affronted by. That tender male ego would raise its head again!

Underwear, mmmm…… that was an area I had fallen into the trap of sensible verses sexy, yes it was now time for a re model. The items for sale over the web were probably no more titillating than others I had seen in some of the more expensive and exclusive shop windows, but in the past I had dismissed them as a bit extravagant and perhaps over the top for a mother of three and married to an accountant. Now, that little statement pulled me up short, over the top for a mother of three. Why should I have put my self in that category? Definitely time to rectify both my wardrobe and my attitude, come to think about it, I had fallen into another trap, I bought Brian those awful Y fronts, simply because he claimed he did not like the free and floppy feel of the silk boxers I once bought for a birthday gift and he now wore to bed.

All to soon it was time to collect the children. In a moment of impiousness I decided not to remove the history, if Brian went looking on the computer he would not only know what I had been up to, but he would certainly find some great sites for some research along with some very useful techniques, some valuable advice and lots of other educational material. Tomorrow I would be shopping for lingerie and perhaps a little more enticing bed linen, mmm satin sheets such an extravagance but soooo nice that would be a safe start for a stuffy accountants wife. 

As I drove to collect the kids, I realised with excitement there was a whole new world out there and so much more to discover. In the back of my mind there was an uneasy churning in my stomach. Had I opened a can of worms sending Brian on this search? Was I putting our safe, secure but boring lives in jeopardy? What if his research was more physical than I was prepared for? What if he allowed his fantasy’s to become reality with some one else rather than with me?

I resolved that at least after Saturday night and Brian’s reaction to my “O.K.” the least I could do was try to soothe his ruffled feathers and show him I was also prepared to be less inhibited and try to open the path to a more enhanced sex life. What better place to start than by making a better effort in the kitchen as well as the bedroom. Tonight was a new beginning, even though I had asked him to do some research, I would take the lead. I would make sure the children were fed and occupied with their own interests when Brian returned from the office. I would prepare his favourite meal and this evening we could eat together a little later without the kids, with music, wine, candle light and flowers. 

But no, the phone rang.

‘ Susan, I will not be home tonight until late …a report… I have to finish by tomorrow.’ Brian said in a rather chilly tone.

‘Oh…Brian … couldn’t you finish it early tomorrow morning?’

‘No sorry, Gabriella insists it needs to be on her desk first thing tomorrow.’

What else could I say, but couldn’t stop my self from huffily answering.

‘I see, well then I guess you had better stay behind.’ 

Angry, disappointed and frustrated, I poured a glass of wine, re heated some left overs and thought about my dashed plans. 

The phone rang my daughter rushed to answer as children always do. 

‘Mum, Jane thinks she left her Walkman in Dads car, can you ask him to drop it in to her house on his way home?'

‘He is working late, give him a ring at the office and ask him if he will be able to.’

‘O.k.’ as she dialled the number.

‘Mum he’s not answering’

‘Try again, he may be in Gabriella’s office discussing something’

She dialled again 

‘J.T. Ware and Associates, Sorry, Brian left the office about half an hour ago’

‘Mum, Dad left about half an hour ago, he should be home soon.’

****

As I waited watching the time tick by my mind was in overdrive, my anger turned to fear. Where was he? Why had he lied? Was he really the innocent I believed him to be? Had I forced his hand and would now be the one to regret it? At 10 p.m.I decided I would be in bed asleep, or pretend to be, when he arrived home.

The headlights finally turned into the drive, the key turned in the door, followed by sock covered feet moving to the bedroom and on into the en suite. Brian slipped into bed whilst I pretended to be asleep. Being female, my anger surfaced and my pride got the better of me. I had to let him know I knew he had not worked late.

‘Finished your report then?’

He jumped as if struck. Was it through guilt or surprise?

‘Yes, yes, all done thanks.’

Then silence...only the sound of both of us breathing.

‘How is your research going?’ 

‘Ah… still in the early stages.’

‘Oh lets have a feel then.’ I grabbed his lifeless sleeping manhood. It was a hard grab,a sort of where have you been type grab. You think I am unsuspecting sort of grab. 

‘Looks like it’s out of the question tonight then, have you been up to something?’

‘No, just a tiring day. You know end of year statements that sort of thing. Not a real turn on you know.’

I turned the light on. Looking him straight in the eye. With a look, which can kill a man at a hundred paces without a word being fired. 

‘Your daughter phoned you this evening to ask you to drop Jane’s Walkman in to her house on your way home.’

I waited before continuing allowing the implications to register.

‘I hope what you learnt tonight will make a difference.’ I said through clenched teeth not trusting my voice to remain steady.

‘You might find some help on the internet you know.’



Life, Sex & All That Ch. 05



Chapter Five: Susan and a little Retail Therapy

My mind was in turmoil, so many confronting thoughts and conflicting emotions. Our marriage had been based on trust, and to the best of my knowledge, for the first time I was confronted by a breech of that trust, and I knew I was not in a suitable emotional condition to hear his explanation. Silence was the better course, as I knew I was sure to say things I would later regret, especially as the chances of his telling the truth a this moment, whilst he was cornered, were not likely. Any further lies would compound the issue and drive a wedge between us.

Hard as it was I lay, oh so still, pretending to be asleep, I tried to come to grips with the possibilities arising from the events of the last 72 hours. I had made my bed and now I had to lie on it. The body beside me, as far to the edge of the bed as possible, was no more asleep than I was and he was no doubt trying to contrive some explanation for his having lied. It was in the early hours that I finally drifted into a troubled sleep. 

I wakened to the sound of the shower, 6 a.m, a little early for him. My head hurt from lack of sleep and my gut ached from emotional overload. I was still not in a suitable frame of mind for any discussion about his 'working late' activities of the previous evening. Before Brian could emerge from the en-suite I slipped out of bed, donned sweats and joggers and hastily absented the house, leashed the dog and headed out the gate. 

Early morning in the crisp air is wonderful for clearing the head, and whilst briskly walking I began to plan my next strategy. My anger was because he had lied. Yes, I was annoyed he had not come home when I had planned a romantic evening, but he was not to know I had made those plans. So with a clearer head but still in emotional knots I headed for home to wake the children and avoid the need to enter into any sort of serious discussion with Brian. If he wanted to offer an explanation for his lie he could save it. 

Fortunately, the usual chaos reigned as I entered the kitchen, kids squabbling, radio blaring, Brian hiding behind the morning paper. Directing my orders at the children to be ready to leave by 8.20 am, I escaped to the shower. Shortly, from behind the steam I saw the muted figure of Brian.

'Bye Susan, I will see you later, I should be home on time'

'O.K.' was the best I could muster, as he retreated down the hall. 

Sifting through the linen basket with trembling hands I searched for his jocks, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer, but unable to not investigate. I fished them out and with a sinking heart my suspicions were confirmed. What ever he had been up to last night there was the tell tale stain. Choking back the tears I sunk on to the bed . Take a grip on yourself I thought, be rational, why are they stained. If he had been with a prostitute he would have used a condom. The most likely scenario was he had been visually aroused and was unable to avoid ejaculating in his underwear, hopefully he had been to a porn theatre or a topless bar. I now need to decide weather to confront him with both the lie and the jocks.

Appraising my self in the mirror, I agreed I should do a walk every morning and may be those extra kilo's would slip away. I was lucky the grey had not yet invaded my tresses but perhaps a new hair style, a manicure and polish were in order. Yes, I had become complacent and a little boring, today was a new beginning and no matter what the outcome of the mess I had created, I decided a revamp was defiantly necessary and make the most of the body I was born with. Hopefully I could salvage the situation I had created through issuing a challenge and affronting his ego. As soon as the children were deposited at the bus stop I planned to hit the shops.

First stop lingerie. Ohhhhhhhh…. there is nothing nicer than pretty, flimsy, lacy, sexy underwear. Where once I was an A cup, my added kilo's now amply filled a B and trying on these beautiful bras I now sported a deep cleavage. I had forgotten how wonderful it feels to look at your self and see a sexy lady and how your own excitement rises in expectation when you put on such gorgeous things. Be bold... I thought, not only black and white, but yes… the burgundy looks sensational and the red so naughty. 

At the hairdressers I took George's advice, live dangerously ,cut it off, my practical sensible, shoulder length, straight hair, now gone but to my delight a short layered much smarter style, which to my surprise accentuated my bone structure. I was feeling very pleased with my self as I caught my reflection in the shop windows as I hurried through the mall. The manicure was worth every cent even if the nails were not all that long the shape was a definite improvement especially with the matching toes. 

Yes, I was on a roll, perhaps a couple of tops and a new pair of slacks to compliment my existing wardrobe. Not forgetting the satin sheets, which I would need to save for another time, tonight was not the occasion, given that we needed to 'talk'. The day flew. My retail therapy had just about blown my budget. The accountant at home put a strict curb on over spending, but I am sure he would think the new me was worth it. I was glowing with delight, my new image and also with anticipation for Brian's reaction. Perhaps if I could organise for some one to stay with the children it would be better if we ate out, some where not too noisy but not to subdued so we could talk in relative privacy. I was unsure if that was the right move, but having gone this far ,what the hell, it could only backfire. A couple of phone calls and all was arranged, with my heart thundering in my ears I dialled the office, surprised, though a little relieved, he did not answer. I reached his voice mail and left a message for him to meet me at 7.30 at Mario's Trattoria.

Arriving at Mario's shortly after 7.30 aiming to really surprise him by my new image, I was disappointed he had not arrived, but took a corner table near the rear so he would have to seek me out. As time dragged on, I sipped a glass of wine becoming more agitated, fearing he had not listened to his messages. Surely he would not neglect his message bank, he was too much an accountant to be that remiss! 

Relief, I spotted him in the entrance, he obviously could not see me as the waiter led him to our table. The look on his face was priceless, I wish I had a camera. He recovered his composure as he sat and took the offered menu from the waiter, ordering a glass of red wine as he did. He was obviously flustered and I wondered if it was the fact that I had stepped out of character and asked him to meet him here or my appearance.

'You have had your hair cut,' Stating the obvious. 'Why? ….. I always loved your hair long.'

'Well, I am no longer a teen ager, I 'm a mature woman and I felt like I needed a change.' I retorted, the disappointment evident in my voice, but that seemed to be lost on him.

'Well, this is a nice surprise to have a meal out alone,' he gulped at his wine, 'Is there some occasion I have forgotten?'

'Oh Brian, don't be so defencive' I whispered trying to keep my nerves in check .

'We need to talk and I did not want to do that at home when the children are around, you know what big ears they have and they always pick up on when we want privacy and double their efforts to prevent it.'

We retreated into silence both studying the menu with more than necessary concentration. How do I approach last night's lie? He was obviously in a very out of character cantankerous mood. 

'Brian 'I began touching his hand, which he hastily withdrew as if I had burnt him. 'I know you are hurt that I told you I wanted more from our sex life, it was not my intention to make you feel as you obviously do, but I did't know how to broach the subject, it is so difficult to talk about sex. I could have been a little more ….' I was at a loss to find the word.

He did not answer but continued to study the menu. 

'Brian, look at me….. I am trying to apologise for my obvious lack of sensitivity.'

'OK you have apologised, what are you going to order?'

My insides were churning and threatening to come up, he was obviously very defencive and in no mood to be discussing his 'working late' , but if I let it go it would always be there between us. I retreated behind the menu barely seeing the words and let the silence continue.

'Another glass of wine?' 

I was aware he had not used my name since he arrived.

'Please.' Was all I could muster.

Our meal arrived and we ate in silence. As the dishes were cleared and the waiter out of ear shot, I made an attempt at congenial conversation, blabbing on about our son's up and coming birthday and my plans for his sleep over party. Inwardly trembling, I thought if I don't get last night out in the open I will never have the guts to do it.

'Did you get the report into Gabriella on time? '

'Yes on her desk first thing'

'Brian, according Nicky on the switch board you had left the office by six and you did not come in until 11.30.'

Silence, as he took a more than ample swallow of his wine. At least he was not compounding the issue with some lame story.

'Brian, where were you, I was very worried?' 

'You need not have worried, I told you I would be late.'

'Yes, Brian I know, but you lied and said you were working, instead you had left the office.'

'O K it was easier to tell you I was working late, I just wanted to do something else. Don't you trust me?'

'I have always trusted, loved and respected you Brian, but I could not help seeing the semen stains on your jocks when I did a load of laundry.'

'So , my jocks were stained, you told me to do some research and I did.'

What could I say? He had put it all back on me. I choked back the tears, took a long swig of my wine and wallowed in my own misery.



Life, Sex & All That Ch. 06



The Bill. The Bill is on Tuesday nights. We always watch the Bill. It's our favourite TV program. It's our routine. I finish the washing up stacking the dishes in order of size from the back to the front while Susan puts the children to bed. I take my shoes off, clean them, place them at the end of the bed and put on my fleecy lined Ugg boots. I sit back on my imitation leather auto-incline Super-Deluxe evening chair and by using the remote I make it move back with my feet resting on the extended foot rest and my bottom snuggling into the soft green seat. 

Susan brings me my Bugs Bunny stable table with my pudding in my special Beatrice Potter bowl and a cup of tea. Then we watch the bill.

So why would she leave a message on my voice mail telling me to meet her at Mario's Trattoria on a Tuesday night?

For those of you who don't know The Bill is a classic BBC family entertainment police show. It is a sort of kinky soapie with characters who seem to have just about every sexual deviation one can imagine. A Noah's Arch of human sexuality except it is all based in a police station in London. There is a lesbian police woman, a gay cop, reformed drunk who constantly seems to find women attracted to him and a Sergent who has a passion for very young girls especially when it is another detective's daughter.

We also have a constable who has never had sex in his life and one who burned to death seven of his colleagues. So it really is a very clever and subtle drama. We just can't wait to see which one will be the next to die, go off to drug rehabilitation, kill someone else or just go completely loopy.

So you can see why I was so flummoxed when I received Susan's message.

I can tell you it's timing could not have been worse. Since she mentioned that my performance in bed was little better than average my usually ordered and sensible life has been in turmoil.

I have hardly slept, I have a dreadful hangover from the wine I drank at a topless bar last night and I am still weak at the knees from my dalliance with a lap top dancer.

Today at work has also been exhausting. I have been in meetings all day. Gabriella, our new upwardly mobile CEO tore me my report to shreds, literally, in front of the whole staff. I think my main mistake was not to mention her name in every paragraph.

For the rest of the meeting I sat back and tried to stay below her radar. 

Out meeting dragged on all day. We spent thirty seven minutes and seven seconds deciding what our policy should be for returning calls to our customers. We have to be customer focused what ever that means. I worked out in my mind it actually cost the Company $1,753.34 for us to meet for that time.

Gabriella runs the meeting with an iron fist. Well a whip to be exact. She stands in front of us with her short cut hair, in a tight fitting leather jacket, boots up to her thighs and massages a long, thin whip in her hands as she eyes each one of us.

Anyone who utters a word she dislikes is made to pay. George, our supercilious second in charge, dared suggest that it didn't really matter about a policy we should just phone back when we can. 

She turned, walked toward him, made him stand. 

'What did you say'

'I just thought..'

'You dared to think…'

'Let down your trousers.. '

'What…'

'Trousers.. '

Belt undone, trousers to the ground.

'Jocks..'

Red faced, looking away from all of us he dropped his boxers. (Mickey Mouse ones, quite nice really) 

'Lean over the table..now..or it will be worse..'

Over, arms outstretched holding onto the mahogany board room table.

She tickled his thigh with the whip, ran it along the inside of his bottom, raised her hand and whoosh. A red cut ran along his cheeks. George just flinched. Whoosh, Whoosh…

To my astonishment Georges penis jerked up. With each stroke it rose even more. I could tell without even looking that everyone in the room was staring at his giant cock. The gay teller from the front office was practically wetting himself.

Gabriella grabbed his penis. She began to rub, we watched, I quietly manoeuvred mine into a more comfortable position. 

Then she stopped. Told him to get dressed but to leave his penis out in case he spoke out of turn again.

I should tell you she was just as ruthless with the woman staff members. 

Well that was in my dream. In reality it was an excruciating boring day.

So by the time I had rewritten my report, checked my voice mail it was well after seven and I was long way from Mario's Trattoria.

When I first got there I couldn't see Susan anywhere. I thought maybe it was a joke or I misheard the place. Then one of those pompous, effeminate waiters aimed himself at me and recovering my composure a little he took me to Susan. I ordered a decent red wine and took the menu. 

I looked at Susan. I was still flustered and out of breath from trying to get a safe park for my GX786.

Before I could say anything Susan wanted to know what I thought of her new appearance. 

What ever I said I could not win. If I said I liked it I would be lying and if I said I preferred it long then my life assurance would soon be cashed in by my children. 

I loved it long of course. I remember when she gave me my first blow job to put it crudely. I loved seeing her head bobbing up and down with her silky long hair flowing down around my penis. I loved it long because it made me feel young. I loved it long because I fell in love with a girl with long hair. I also hated it because it reminded me of Gabriella

Too late, I had haltered for a millisecond over the appointed time. The split between, 'I love you' and 'you bastard'. 

'You have had your hair cut' …. Stating the obvious 'Why? ….. I always loved your hair long.'

'Well, I am no longer a teenager, I 'm a mature woman and I felt like I needed a change.' The retort displayed her disappointment. Bad move.

'Well, this is a nice surprise to have a meal out alone,' gulping my wine, 'Is there some occasion I have forgotten?'

'Oh Brian, don't be so defensive. We need to talk and I did not want to do that at home when the children are around, you know what big ears they have and they always pick up on when we want privacy and double their efforts to prevent it.'

Well the dinner deteriorated from that point. There was really no way to retrieve it. I knew she had gone to a lot of trouble. New cloths, new hair do and dinner. Every time we spoke she bought up the same old subject. My performance, or the lack of in bed. Does she have a fixation on sex or something? Typical woman. They marry you for what you are and then spend the rest of their life trying to change you into something else. 

I was miserable. I really didn't know what to do. I loved her to bits but I could see I was loosing her, or something we once had. Sex seems to just get in the way sometimes. And to top it all off I had missed The Bill.



Life, Sex & All That Ch. 07



Chapter Seven Night Angel

I'm an accountant. I realize I have mentioned this before but I think you may have gained a somewhat distorted impression of me from the last two episodes. The first you may recall started with me quietly masturbating while reading, if it can be called reading, a rather saucy magazine. That was until my darling wife caught me and made me feel like a naughty schoolboy with his hand deep in a hole in his trouser pocket. A trick I might add many of us used at my grammar school. Many a female teacher was tricked into putting their hand into a boy's pocket to find out what they had in their pocket. 

The next time you saw me was at that rather seedy lap dancing bar when a rather young and energetic dancer managed to leave me in a somewhat wet, and financially embarrassing position.

This is not the way I am. Really, I am a very respectable professional father of three sitting upstairs in my study surrounded by my world. I hold dearly to the notion that 'An Englishman's Home is his Castle'. This is my Castle. Outside the window I gaze with pride over my estate. We live in a semi-detached bungalow about an hour from the city and within walking distance of the train station. Many in the Office are envious of what I have achieved. 

In the driveway is my pride and joy. A GX487 dark green Land Cruiser. It is just perfect to drive to the village and it takes my whole golf buggy in the back when I go to the Club on Sundays and occasionally for collecting the groceries. The salesman told me quietly it was sexy to drive and he was right about that. Once I took it along a friend's unsealed driveway. It drove like a machine! Unfortunately it took me a week to clean the dirt from underneath. I had to do it with a toothbrush just to make sure it was back to pristine condition and then I had to repaint the wheels. I think I'll stay on sealed roads from now on. 

Unfortunately Susan parks her car next to my GX487. You see hers is a rather dilapidated 1982 Yellow Sigma Station Wagon. It is a rust bucket, it has a coat hanger for an arial and it beats me how it actually keeps going. Susan loves it. She even has a name for it to heaven's sake - Busty! She says she needs it for her art things. If she had a new car it would only get dirty with her clay and paints and so on. I have offered to get her a new Hyundai or something else, which would be much less embarrassing in the neighbourhood.

Still we did have some fun in that car in our courting days. She was so spontaneous I never really knew what to expect next. That's why I fell madly in love with of course. At traffic lights she would put her hand onto my crutch and play with me. In broad daylight! Once she even pulled it out. She slipped her hand down along my penis and started playing with me while she was driving. It was interrupted each time she had to change gear and in that car is quite frequent. I didn't know what to do. We had only known each other for a few days. She played with me. Rubbed my shaft up and down, dug her hands into my balls and then said well that's enough for now! I was nearly bursting with an enormous erection and she dropped me off at work!

Now we have a home, children and the whole wonderful disaster. Out my back window I look down onto my lawn. I love my lawn and my miniature hedge. The highlight of my week on Saturday mornings is to first thoroughly wash my GX487 before mowing the lawn with my Flymo (Super 1.2) and finally after morning tea to trim my hedges. I feel so good. I can't tell you the satisfaction it gives me. When I look around at my completed work I know that all is right in the world. 

My hedges stop. They stop next to an old shed, which was left from the old house.

This you see is Susan's studio. Between her part time job, kids and me she is an artist and sculptress. She's actually quite good. Makes heaps each weekend at the market. She says her work is 'post-modern erotica' what ever that means. Her paintings, well the ones I see are mainly life drawings and so are her sculptures. She has a wicked sense of humour. I will never forget the look on my mother's face when she opened her Christmas present one year. Susan had given her a phallic teapot, balls, hair and the spout was of course a partially erect cock. 

My mother just said 'Very nice dear but what is it?' The children cracked up, I started counting up the socks and underpants I had been given and Susan just had that wicked smile on her face and said 'I just have to check the dinner, perhaps Brian can explain.'

I have been absolutely banned from going anywhere near the shed on the pain of death. This came about because some time back I thought I would give Susan a surprise and tidy up her studio. I spent all day when she was out cleaning, tidying, straightening things up and organizing it into and efficient, well set out and ordered room. I placed a rose on the table and lead her in to her surprise with her eyes shut.

Opening her eyes she froze. I thought she was pleased and would hug me, lots of kisses, lovemaking and the like but it was as the say 'the calm before the storm'. To use the colloquial she 'went ballistic'. I have never seen her or in fact anyone so angry. She paced slowly around the studio, muttering and building up her vented anger. I thought then perhaps I may have slightly over stepped the mark. 

Then the shout began, and eventually the throwing of things... at me of course. I had lumps of clay, paints, crayons and a full set of phalluses hurled in my direction. Its funny the things you think about at moments like this when your life is about to end. I wondered whom Susan modelled her sculptured cocks from. I realized later of course that they were just variations of my penis – after all who else could they be?

Well since then I have not been allowed within a three-meter radius of the old shed.

Sometimes when I am doing my final trimming of the lawn edges with my nail scissors, I can get close enough to get a glimpse into the studio. Susan asks her female friends to model for her. A few times I have spotted them sitting naked in poses which would leave a man erect for weeks. One even had a shaved pussy. I began to wonder if using an electric shaver would be like using a vibrator. I nearly shot off on the spot. I think she bribes her mates with a bottle of wine, cheese and gossip. I often hear lots of girly giggles coming from inside. Girls will be girls! In fact she is down there now with a friend so I will have a few hours peace until the children come home from their friends houses.

My study though is ordered and sensible. I have everything in its place. Paper clips, paper, staples and neat piles of tax returns waiting to be completed. I get almost an orgasmic pleasure in doing tax returns. I play with the figures, massage them, build them up, squeeze them, rub and suck clean until I press the button and the computer goes into spasms until finally it is done. Sometimes I get so excited I sometimes masturbate while I watch the computer go into action.

All is right and in its place in my world. Well it was until Susan slipped it into our conversation the other night that she thought my performance; sexual that is, was just average. 

I don't think I have been so deflated since the 1987 stock market crash. I didn't get an erection for six months afterward until the Hung Sang index rose by 5%. That's why I ended up in that strip bar the other night. Well ...it was her idea for me to research!

Research is easier said than done in this sort of thing. Anyway I thought I would do some more tax returns to cheer myself up and switched on the computer.

I completed a couple of returns, which helped my mood a little. I could even feel a twinge of excitement in my cock as I managed to secure a 3.56% increased tax return for one of my clients – she owes me something for that. I needed to check on a site I had used a few weeks ago. 'Yachts for tax dodgers' so I clicked on the Internet 'history'.

Well ...What was this ...I was amazed. Someone had been using the computer. I looked at a couple of the sites. Girls sucking girls: there were pictures of girls on their knees, tongues licking, noses buried into one another pussy. They were shaven – god how I would like Susan to do that! Who would have used my computer? The kids can't get past Net Nanny, well... not yet anyway.

It must have been that young trainee I have working for me part time. Susan has her own computer in her studio and never really comes in to my study. She says it has the sterile atmosphere of an operating theatre. Mmmmm... Dirty little kid using my computer, but I kept looking, instinctively looked around to see if anyone was watching. I was entranced.

Then a site with men and men. Men with penises in their mouths, in their bottoms and cum dripping down their faces. I'm not sure how I feel about men. It turns me on but it also disgusts me. Sometimes I think I would like to try it but once I have cum the idea is no longer appealing. 

Next I discovered a site, Literotica.com, amongst the index was a wonderful selection of 'How To' I read about Blow Jobs for Dummies, Erogenous zones, What a Man Wants and A letter to his Wife, now that could be worth reading except it would take too long. Breaking the Rules of Sex and Marriage, here was advice both of us were needing, How to Eat Pussy Like a Champ ... Well at least I know how to do that well! Susan has never complained about my tongue. Well not yet anyway. Maybe she'll send an email to my office or put a note in my lunch box – 'Learn to eat pussy Brian!'

Then I found it. An adult Chat. I signed up. Using all the imagination I could muster I called myself BrianX. Well I thought it was original. I was amazed at what I read. For those of you who are unfamiliar to 'chats' there are rooms one can enter and 'talk' to other people. Except this was an adult chat space. So the rooms were called The Bedroom, Lounge, Bi Room and less than subtle names like the orgy, cocks in bums, black cocks and girls with girls. One was even called the golden shower room what ever that , and another the classroom.

I flicked from room to room. People were in all sorts of positions. Some rooms no one spoke. Others were engaged in what can only be described as cyber sex. A sort of bazaar game where sensuous imagination leads into acts of pure sexual indulgence.

I just watched, as people, who had never met and were seemingly in different parts of the world would be writing to each other and responding by saying

'I put your long, juicy cock into my mouth.'

'Your mouth eats my cock, I pump harder.'

'I play with my pussy while I eat your cock.'

'Your tits get bigger.'

'I feel your balls filling up, ready to explode.'

'My pussy is dripping, I'm ready to...'

'I thrust my cock deeper into your mouth, I begin to spasm.'

'I play with my pussy, faster and faster ready to cum...'

'I'm coming...'

'Me too...'

Then they hang up!

I was just about to finish when my name was highlighted. I was being invited to a private meeting. A PM. I was in shock! My heart beat; I looked around again perhaps looking for my conscience to appear over my shoulder. The coast was clear, Susan was still in her studio with her friend and the children had called to say they would be late.

I clicked...

'Hi BrianX' 

What do I say? How do I reply?

'Hi, who are you?'

'I'm your Night Angel Brian X.'

I waited, not quite knowing what to do. Who was this person? Where was she? Could she see me?

Idle chat I thought may be the way to go.

'So what are you doing Night Angel?'

'I'm naked...and playing with my pussy.'

'Ah...'

'What would you like to do with me BrianX?'

I just blurted it out.. 'Fuck you.'

'Oh dear BrianX , you do have a problem don't you.'

'What?'

'Well... how to treat a woman.'

Oh God, here we go again. I meet a woman and ten seconds later she's saying the same thing as Susan.

'Well...?'

'My wife said the same thing.'

'I may be able to help you BrianX. After all I am an Angel.'

'How?'

'That's what Night Angels do BrianX. They make your fantasies come true.'

'Would you like me to help?'

'Oh Yes please.'

Corny answer I know , but I defy you to think of a better one.

'You must do as I say BrianX and soon your wife will be begging for more.'

'If you don't... I will stop. Think about it.'

'I have, I have.'

'Bye then'

'How will I find you again?'

But she was gone.

WOULD ANYONE LIKE TO ANSWER AS SUSAN?