AUTHOR'S NOTE - This is the final installment of a trilogy that's been buzzing around in my mind for a while. Part 1, The Canasta Club, introduced Peggy who was dealing with a marital issue and found an innovative solution. Part 2, The Canasta Club - Peggy, recounts her subsequent revelation of her actions with her psychologist Rebecca, who unbeknownst to her was dealing with her own sexual frustrations. Part 3, reveals Rebecca's anxiety and the ultimate resolution of her issue. I hope you will enjoy the twisted psychology as well as great sex!
Rebecca awoke with a start and had a moment of disorientation. She looked around to find the man she'd been with, but he'd disappeared and Rebecca realized that it had all been a dream. She looked at the clock on the bed stand and groaned when she read the numerals. It was three-thirty in the morning and Rebecca knew that her chances of getting another few hours of sleep were slim and none.
She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom where she raised the toilet seat and pulled down her panties to pee. Just as she feared, the crotch was wet with thin white mucus, the visible evidence of her arousal. As she urinated, the warm stream tickled her labia and heightened the sexual tension she was feeling, so when she finished it was easy to just open her legs a little wider and thrust her fingers into her quim.
Rebecca realized that what she was doing was becoming a frequent event. Oh, she'd always masturbated, who hadn't? But it seemed that since her last session with a client of her's, the dreams had begun and her need to diddle her aroused pussy had increased.
Her fingers felt so good. She ran them through her slit, coating them with her oily secretion and then brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled the aroma of her arousal directly. Rebecca's head swooned at the musky-sweet scent and she quickly thrust them into her mouth to savor the taste. They remained there only a moment before they returned to her crotch.
Rebecca rose to a squatting position to ease the way for her exploring fingers between her legs, but as she did so, she also felt her breasts sag from her chest, gently sway and rub against the inside of her nightie. The feeling of her nipples against the silk was heavenly and Rebecca raised a hand to cup one of her hanging tits and squeeze the flesh through the cloth. Normally, she wouldn't even have been conscious of her breasts, but with her nipples engorged by her arousal, they were very much in her mind at the moment.
As usual, the combined sensations coming from her pussy and her breast transported her quickly to a throbbing sexual climax and as the release washed over her, she moaned, but was careful to stifle it against waking her teenage son who was sleeping in the next room.
Rebecca wiped her crotch and the inside of her legs and put on a clean pair of panties, before she navigated the stairway to the kitchen where she put on a pot of boiling water for tea. When it was done, she took the cup into her study, sat down and thought about the dream.
The man was tall, but younger than her forty-five years by almost twenty. She had been the aggressor and had seduced him to her bed. In her dream, he transported her to sexual bliss in ways that she could remember in sharp detail even after she awoke. He expertly fucked her and ate her pussy, but what she couldn't fathom was she had also willingly sucked his cock and swallowed his cum, something she'd never done, and thought she abhorred in her real life. She could still smell the heady aroma of his masculinity and remembered the feel of his calloused hands on her body. Rebecca sighed and for the thousandth time, wondered what she should do.
Her quandary was fueled by the knowledge that the man in her dream was an actual person. True, it was someone she'd never met, but she knew he existed and didn't live very far away.
Rebecca's mind recounted the sequence of events that had led to the present moment. Dr. Rebecca Klein was a psychologist who had opened a marriage counseling practice in Tacoma a few years ago. The onset of the Vietnam War and the proximity to Tacoma of Ft. Lewis and McCord AFB had resulted in a deluge of business as deployments from those locations had put stress on marriages and sexual frustrations for the wives left behind.
Rebecca herself was also no stranger to sexual frustration. Two years ago she'd divorced her husband of twenty years over his abuse and escalating alcohol problem, and hadn't had a man in her bed since. She had rationalized that her ailing parents and her son, only a year away from graduation from high school, and her practice were more than enough to fill her days, but she knew something was missing. The daily confessions she heard in her practice of affairs and sexual fantasies of all kinds hadn't especially affected her, but a week ago she'd held a session with a client named Peggy.
Peggy wasn't a military wife as so many were, but she and she and her husband David were in their own crisis. Their problem revolved around a dynamic which involved David's ED, premature ejaculation and an emerging bi-courisity. In short, he was putting pressure on his wife to bring another man into their marriage. At their last session, Peggy had described a man that she'd found out about from one of her close friends at their Canasta Club. She described how she had approached him for sex as a way of fulfilling David's fantasy, but had been overwhelmed by the experience. She had told Rebecca that the man had expertly ate her pussy to a mind-blowing orgasm, fucked her to a second and she'd even sucked his cock, all in front of her husband. Ordinarily, Rebecca wouldn't have had much interest in the man, she would have been more focused on how the event had affected Peggy and David, but this case was different.
Peggy had emphasized that while he had been a fantastic lover, he was uninterested in any scenario that would include David as an active participant, so she thought that they needed to find someone else. What this meant to Rebecca was he, himself, wouldn't be a part of the therapy. He was a complete non-entity as far as what she needed to do with Peggy and David. But what was naggy her was the knowledge that there was a man in the neighborhood who she knew had been approached for sex, had accepted and had driven Peggy to the heights of sexual fulfillment. Rebecca wanted that too, but what was disturbing her sleep was a simple question; should she?
As Rebecca sipped her tea, she confronted the larger question... What was it that she was really seeking? She thought that the answer to that question was probably a new life partner, but she admitted to herself that she didn't have the slightest idea of how that might happen. Most of the men in her professional circle were married, and the few single one's she knew were either gay, and not interested in her, or effeminate, and not interesting to her. The broader singles dating scene was a total mystery.
Her marriage had been a roller coaster of events. The first ten years had been challenging, but generally fulfilling as she and her ex had begun to build a life together. Rebecca had willingly spread her legs and the sex was good if not mind-blowing. She loved the closeness and even though she rarely climaxed she loved the way it made her feel. The second ten years were another story altogether; his job became more demanding and when their son began school Rebecca had started her counseling practice. She remembered his retreat into alcoholism and the abuse and it still brought tears to her eyes. She had given him an ultimatum, but he had chosen the bottle over her. So, Rebecca admitted to herself that what she wanted now, was reassurance of her own desirability as a woman. It might end up being just a one-night stand, but if so, it was better than the limbo that she felt her life had become.
Peggy had not provided a name and only the barest details of what he looked like. The one actionable piece of information was he frequented a bar over on Wyoming Boulevard called the Pint Defiance. If she was going to find him, it probably would be there.
In her mind, she addressed the two scenarios that she thought might be possible, assuming of course, that he could be identified. The first, was frankly terrifying. That was a meeting in the bar. How would that happen, should she make the first approach or just hope that he might see her and try to pick her up? The second was riskier, but had the advantage of not betting the house on first impressions. She envisioned giving her phone number to the bartender to give to the man when he next came in. Perhaps if she worded the message mysteriously enough it might entice his interest and they could meet in a less chaotic setting. For Rebecca, the second option was far preferable to the first, so she began to think about how to word the message.
At work, between clients, Rebecca wrote and rewrote the message until her trash can was filled to overflowing with the crumpled paper of her attempts. Finally, late in the day, she settled on this...
"I heard about you and Peggy. I would like to speak with you on a related matter. Strictly confidential. Sorry to be mysterious, but necessary. Please call me. Evenings only. Rebecca (253) 418-7766
The next step was to find out if there was a way that the message could be delivered.
Rebecca had driven by the Pint Defiance numerous times and had noted that it opened every day at eleven a. m. and she rightly assumed that it would be almost empty until the lunch crowd began to gather. Her anxiety was already sky-high and the fewer people around the better. She checked her appointment calendar and determined that she could be free to check the place out the following Tuesday. That night, her dreams began to become more vivid and sexier, and she found herself changing her panties frequently.
On Tuesday, she noticed only two cars in the parking lot at the Pint Defiance and when she entered the bar, she saw only one man sitting in one of the booths. She walked towards the bar, where the bartender was busy tapping some beer kegs and generally getting ready for the crowds later in the day.
He saw her walk across the dance floor in his direction and he stood up to see what the classy lady in the tailored business dress wanted. Rebecca introduced herself and said that she was trying to find a man, but she didn't know his name, only a rough description and she wondered if the bartender might know him.
Peggy had said that he was tall, over six feet, and about twenty-seven. He was in the Army and he'd just returned from Vietnam. He had gray in his dark hair and a dark tan. His face had creases down his cheeks, more prominent than just dimples and she thought his hands were calloused. Rebecca related these features to the bartender, who rubbed his chin and stopped one of the waitresses. Rebecca repeated the description for her benefit, when she said. "Yeah, I think I know who you're talking about, I don't know his name either, but a lot of weekends he's here with a woman named Sharon.
The word "Bingo" went off in Rebecca's head. Peggy had told her that she'd made contact with the man using a phone number given to her by her friend, who Rebecca remembered was named Sharon. "Well uh," Rebecca stammered, "I'm trying to get him an important message. Do you think if I left it with you, you could give it to him the next time you see him?" The waitress, whose name tag said " Cathy, " said "Sure, if he comes in." Rebecca nodded and removed the envelope from her purse and handed it to Cathy. "It's a confidential matter, so please be careful." Cathy took it and put it in a pocket of her apron, and said, "Don't worry. If he's here, he'll get it."
