Leaving It To Her

The arguing was getting worse rather than better. Neither of them wanted to go, their busy schedules not often permitting it, but they both agreed that they needed it. They married young after a courtship in which both of them fell helplessly in love and eloped to marry weeks after high school graduation. In the beginning it was bliss. They made love frequently and rapaciously, never fighting. They laughed at each other's jokes, even finished the other's sentences, much to the annoyance of their friends. After years of dating they gained the reputation of the ‘annoyingly close couple' the others always found so cloying. They surprised each other with silly gifts, swung their clasped hands when out strolling and had cute endearments like "bunny" and "boo bear" they used in public without shame.

Years of this wore them down and though they spent less and less time with each other, they managed to hide the deterioration of their marriage from their mutual friends. At home each night they became cold; she retreated into her bedroom immediately after a quickly cooked dinner while he only emerged from the basement rec room after she had gone to bed.

It was after a particularly heated argument, about as trivial a subject as missed phone calls, and a night spent in separate bedrooms, that they agreed they needed outside assistance. They both valued their marriage more than anything else in their lives but didn't have the means to keep it going as they wanted right now.

Then came the arduous task of finding the right counselor. Neither was enamored with the idea of airing their personal secrets out to a complete stranger; they both found the idea somehow perverse. They agreed that if it must be done then it would only be with the best. Weeks spent reading up on the local counselors and therapists gave them a new perspective on the industry. Too many were indistinguishable from the others. Jack and Cynthia couldn't find any one that stood out from the rest. All seemed too similar and none seemed to be any they could identify with or benefit from.

Then at work one morning, while Jack was reading the New York Times over his daily muffin and coffee, he read an article that seemed to address their problems. "New Therapy Designed For Couples" the headline read. The paper told about Gloria Jameson, a therapist with an impressive history studying in Europe and Harvard before starting a practice in Paris. Her clientele swelled from word of mouth and though her methods were unorthodox and relatively untested, it had garnered only newly happy couples.

Tearing out the article carefully, he filed it in his briefcase to show his wife when he came home. For curiosity's sake he looked up her office in the phone book and even called the office to ask if they were taking on new cases. When he found that they were, he scheduled a meeting.

When he came home his wife was in the laundry room. He called to her but she didn't answer. Instead he laid out the article on the counter near her Woman's Day magazines where he knew she would read it and went about making his own meal- reheated casserole from that weekend.

Just as he was finishing she came out and, noticing the article, began to read it. He ate silently, watching for her reaction. When she finished she turned, saw him and finally greeted him.

"I didn't see you sitting there. Did you just get home?"

He perked up, happy to see she was in a good mood.

"I must not have heard you with the washing machine going. How was work?"

Before he could respond she sighed and began complaining about her day. She worked at a real estate broker and was facing the slow season. There wasn't much business and, with everyone restless, her boss constantly derided her for something. She was worried she may be laid off though she said she probably wouldn't mind that much now considering.

Her eyes scanned the torn article. "What's this?"

He explained the new treatment that may be of interest and how they'd been searching for something different.

"I'm not sure about this. Who knows what kind of a freako she could be?"

"Lots of professionals said some good things about her. Maybe we should give it a shot."

She turned and walked to her bedroom deciding she'd "look into it."

In bed she lay turned away from him and shrugged him off as he reached for her. His touch turned to gentle caresses, hoping to make her more receptive. Still she ignored him and instead he reached further down to clutch her ass, covered only in her silken nightgown.

"You might have better luck if you'd listen to me more," she said.

Hand stroking her backside lovingly he asked why she didn't feel like opening up to him or, for that matter, making love anymore.

She turned to face him, her full breasts swaying beneath her gown. "You just never have time for me anymore. You get home and you're too tired to have any fun. I'm tired too but I try to keep our home happy. You just go off on your own."

When they married they made a rule that they would never go to bed angry and resolve all disagreements before the next day began. They both believed their bed should be one of love and warmth, not a place to argue. He agreed with her and when he bent his face down in a show of forgiveness, she took him into her arms, holding him dearly.

Biting his lip, he admitted to scheduling an appointment with the therapist they read about. She seemed aggravated by the fact that he had done so without consulting her though she was pleased with his initiative. Still, she chided him. "I really don't know if any unproven techniques will work. I tend to believe in the older, time tested methods I've seen work on others." Kissing the top of his head, she gave in, "I'll do this for you. I'll go and listen to what she has to say but if I don't agree or it doesn't work, don't be shocked when I look for another counselor."

They kissed then, more closely then they had in weeks. Her lips opened to allow his tongue to play on hers and that way they fell asleep, nestled in each other's arms.

The next morning they arrived at the therapist's office a half hour early and were made to wait until she finished with her appointment and was free. Cynthia wore formal business attire and sat with her hands folded on her lap as she waited. Checking her watch, she timed it against the one on the wall of the waiting room. She had been given the morning off work and hoped to make it in before she was expected and win brownie points.

Jack merely sat beside her and scanned those seated in the identical padded chairs around them. Two other women sat across from them, one much younger than he with short blonde hair and a tiny frame. He guessed her to be of college age. Another woman, both older and wider than anyone else in the room, sat gruffly by the receptionists. Her hair was brown and curled. She took no notice of anything or anyone else in the room. Her attention was directed towards the Highlights Magazine she read intently.

He felt very conspicuous, sitting idly in the room praying for the receptionist to call them in the back so he could get out of the office away from the small crowd waiting to be called when, in fact, no one even noticed him. His very wife seemed oblivious and read her Redbook mutely.

When the receptionist, a young girl not yet out of college, read their names off the clipboard, he jumped up before she finished speaking. His wife, mildly embarrassed by his behavior sauntered behind him, thanking the girl with a soft smile.

The room they were ushered into did not have the imposing oak panels as Jack had pictured. Instead it was painted in a sedate pink with eggshell trimming. An overstuffed white loveseat rested by the far wall. By its side sat a matching wingback chair. In front of them was a large ornate coffee table on which a teapot, cups and saucers rested. In the corner was a large Victorian rolltop desk covered with stacks of papers. A flat screen computer monitor rested in the center and a large desk set, complete with fat, gaudy pens took up much of the space.

Dr. Jameson came behind them when they entered the room. She appeared to be in her thirties, with flowing red hair, fair skin and blue eyes. Cynthia was taken aback by her presence, expecting someone much older. They shook hands and exchanged introductions before the doctor explained her credentials. She had graduated early at the top of her class and entered the university of Paris when most children her age were going out on their first dates. Finding her advanced studies to be less of a challenge than most, she earned her Masters at the young age of 18. From there she got her Doctorate in Vienna and studied under Dr. Van Rijn, a Dutch Psychiatrist that was covering new ground in gender relationships. Her work kept her in the related field of marriage management and began taking clients at the age of 23, all the while still single.

Her reputation grew as her clients tried her experimental methods. She was handpicked to make a presentation at a convention in Brussels. The speech she gave intriqued all her peers that had gathered to hear her speak. Once they looked into her previous work her name became a household word within the industry. For another challenge, she decided to move to America and take on clients across the Atlantic. Many of her colleagues had already done so, and found the country very pleasant and comfortable.

By the time she finished explaining her past, they were sitting down, Cynthia and Jack close together on the couch while she sat in the chair at their right. "I can see," Gloria began, "that you both care for each other very much. Your body language expresses this and the fact that you are holding hands so easily."

The couple looked down and saw that they were, in fact, doing just as she said without even realizing it. "That's a good sign," she continued. "Now why don't you tell me what you're looking for."

They both spoke at once and Jack apologized, not wanting to interrupt his wife.

"Well," Cynthia began. "We do love each other. I love Jack and I believe he loves me but it just doesn't feel like it did when we first dated, or even when we married." She described their relationship as it was and, like Dr. Jameson, agreed it could be salvaged. All it really needed, she believed, was a spark. It had become too routine for them lately and she loved him too much for that to happen.

When Jack had his turn he agreed with all she said, though he was surprised that she felt the same way. Like most men he blamed himself but was clueless on how to make the situation better. The doctor listened to both and offered encouragement, jotting down notes when she heard something relevant.

They spoke easily, finding the words coming without trouble. The doctor prodded them when needed, asking simple questions when one of them wasn't clear or skirted the truth. Overall she found them a very likable couple and a perfect example of two people in need of her help. The hour passed quickly and before they were aware of it, the hour had ended.

"This is what I'd like you to do before we meet again," Dr. Jameson spoke, addressing the eager couple. "Jack, you will do whatever Cynthia says for one week. No matter what she asks, you will carry it out without discussion." To Cynthia; "I'd like you to just let go for a week. It's obvious you have some built up anxiety and harbor some resentment towards your husband. He wants to make you happy and keep your marriage close but your hesitation is pushing him apart. Perhaps if you spent some time doing just what you want and getting exactly what you ask for we can determine where the problem lies." Standing up, she thanked the couple and reminded them, "This is just an experiment. Be yourself and enjoy your partner. That's the only way this will work."

That night Cynthia lay back on the bed and watched her husband undress. She admired his bare butt, strong back and the swing of his heavy penis as he turned toward her. "Not as bad as I thought," she commented.

"Hun?"

"Dr. Jameson. I thought it would be much worse. I'm not usually the therapy type but I see how there's some value in what she said."

Picking out a fresh pair of boxers, Jack began putting them on. "I'm glad you feel that way. I really think this could help."

"Oh, I agree," his wife answered, watching as he folded his length into the crotch of the underwear. "Keep those off," she said, nodding her head at his groin.

He had already pulled back the sheet and was in the act of laying beside her. "Why?" he asked.

"I'm your wife and there's no need to be shy. I like looking at you and, besides, the good doctor said you should follow my directions without a word."

Remembering the earlier pronouncement, he did as told and stood up and removed them without fanfare. Cynthia watched amused. When he lay down, she pressed her body against him and whispered in his ear. "When was the last time you pleased yourself?" Stunned, he could only look at her. "I know it must have been recently because we haven't had sex in a while and I know someone around here's getting satisfied." Her fingers played on the tip of his prick, stroking it. In spite of himself, he began to swell. For the first time in weeks he imagined having sex with his life and the joy he once found burying his face between her warm thighs, licking her soft pussy and mouthing her full breasts.

She folded her legs against his bare thigh, moving in slow circles. "Don't you miss it? She asked, her tongue licking his earlobe. "Do you remember what it feels like, putting yourself in me when I'm dripping wet and sooo warm? Do you remember how good it felt?"

Her hand now gripped his entire cockhead in her small palm. Eyes closed, he focused on her words, remembering the last time they'd had sex in the late summer. He had reached over to her in the late evening, surprising her with his boldness. She acquiesced but offered little assistance. On his side and behind her he took her. Before he fell asleep that night he was satiated, at least physically. It had been long since he had felt that way.

Cynthia felt a surge in her femininity, remembering the doctor's advice she doubted earlier. Sucking her index finger between her lips, she covered it with her saliva and reached between the sheets. As she whispered into his ear, teasing him with promises of her flesh and her lips pressing against his body, she swabbed the head of his cock liberally.

He made a quick, almost girlish sound. She knew he was not used to being touched this way and played upon it. "Does this tickle?" she cooed into his ear. "Want me to stop, baby?" It had been some time since she used the term on him but now it came out as almost a taunt, showing her position over him.

Slowly her palm slid up and around his shaft, pulling him toward her and back again. Every so often she would give a stern squeeze that yielded into a soft fluttering from her fingers. He would gasp in surprise (and a little pain, she thought) each time she did so.

His body swiveled against hers, led by the motions of her hand. His eyes were closed though his mouth moved unconsciously, as if trying to speak to her. With a hand on the back of his neck and another cradling both his balls and the base of his shaft she whispered, "Down, baby" and guided him beneath the sheets.

He offered no resistance and she soon felt his breath warming her thighs. Rolling onto her back, she lifted her nightgown and pulled his trapped head closer to her. The feel of his mouth against her sex caused a sensation that traveled down her spine and made her flinch. She adored being licked and though he was more than capable in this area, he had lost interest in it, reserving it only for the rarest of occasions.

Tonight he gave in fully. Spurred on by her teasing and her words whispered into his ear, he found himself more aroused that he had ever remembered. With a joy driven by need and passion for the woman he tasted, his mouth stroked her like she needed. The tip of his tongue traced her labia, eliciting a warm sign. She reclined, her hand holding his head in place.

At first he teased her, his tongue sliding along the smooth flesh of her pussy, causing her body to twitch and shake. Her need grew stronger and, with a sharp tug of his hair, she forced him to maintain his rate. He eased into her then, his lips softly caressing her vulva, loving the tender folds as his tongue dampened her already moist slit. Her thighs spread further and he noticed the subtle quaking that always came before his wife's orgasm.

He continued, his licks becoming deeper and stronger as her pussy swelled. Warm juices drenched his lips and dripped down his chin onto his neck. Her scent enthralled him, a thick, heady aroma that he missed. Deep kissing her pussy he inserted his tongue into her canal and flicked its quavering walls. Now she held him tightly, restraining him from movement as her climax peaked.

He sustained his actions, deeply French kissing his wife's cunt as her liquids began to flow without restraint. They entered his mouth in a wave that he quickly swallowed as a warm feeling traveled down his throat. He stretched his mouth wider, hoping to catch the brimming tide of her come but much of it soaked his cheeks, even entering his nose.

He was filled with the vision of his wife's intense orgasm. The dark fur of her pussy filled his vision and the heavy flow of her come flowed into him without stop. She bellowed shamelessly as his tongue dipped into her canal to claim the last of her juice that pooled among her lips.

As her breathing slowed, he moved downward to lick her lower thighs and suck the warm flesh of her body into his mouth, leaving slight red marks on her white skin. When his mouth reached the softness of her bottom, he left two deep kisses on each swell, his tongue reaching to taste sweat commingled with her slick juices.

He didn't come from beneath the covers until she had rested and her breathing slowed to normal. When it did, she ushered him into her arms lovingly. He face glistened with girlcome that smeared against her skin when she held him to her breast. For a moment she laid there, her husband's naked body curled around her and reveled in what had transpired. She resolved to take a stronger role in her husband's love life and do her duty to keep their relationship strong. Making him please her brought her a newfound sense of power and authority she had never before felt with him. Handled the right way, Jack was easily controlled and she swore to herself that was the way it would be from now on.

Her position as a woman had taken on a new identity, one that lifted her above the role she played as a critical, bitter wife that she found herself falling into as of late. Her sex became a powerful incentive for her. She felt greedy and desired nothing but his lips on her, his acquiescence to her demands.

One arm splayed against his chest, Jack grew entranced by the sound of his wife's beating heart. He felt her fingers stroke his cheek tenderly and he sighed, feeling happiness in her arms that he never realized before. Cynthia took the strap of her gown from her shoulder, revealing her bare breast to the wide eyed approval of her husband.

His eyes widened as he looked at it adoringly and, with one hand cupping it from the bottom, Cynthia urged him onto it. His mouth opened slightly and she pressed her nipple between her lips. He brought his lips together, trapping it between and instinctually began to suckle her. Her flesh was soft against his face and though his untended erection pressed urgently against her moistened thighs he found complete peace against her.

They soon drifted to sleep in that position, Cynthia went first, her thoughts filled with love for the man that sucked her hardened nipples and the vulnerable, gentle side of his personality they had just discovered. Jack soon followed, his lips going slack against her breast. They dreamt deeply, imagining a life where such feelings had become a constant.