A special thanks to the editor on this story, michchick98.
Please remember that this is a work of fiction and that there are no real people in my stories. The stories are for your enjoyment and if interracial sex offends you in anyway please stop reading now. On the other hand if you like the idea of the darker side of what sex can bring, read on. Thank you.
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It had been nice visiting my husband's family for Christmas, but I couldn't wait to get home to New York. You know how it is, after a long trip it's always good to get home for some real rest. A lot of good things had happened to me this holiday, and something's I wanted to forget. One good thing that happened was Don's mom had told me that I was making her son very happy and I felt like we had kind of bonded over that week's long visit. The thing I wanted to forget was the image of the cheap sex in a hotel bathroom that kept coming to my mind.
That's why I felt so bad, so low. What none of the family knew about was that I had cheated on Don with a black man, a stranger, on Christmas Eve. That one fact would really change their minds about how they felt about me. I thought that I could somehow put it out of my mind but I found that I kept thinking about it. I kept seeing the scene unfold before my eyes. I saw Zeck in that bathroom mirror standing behind me. I kept having visions; images of his large black cock in my hand, my mouth and my pussy.
No matter how I tried, I couldn't seem to get that vision out of my mind. Our first night home Don had tried to make love to me and I turned him away. I told him that I didn't feel that well but I was lying. I knew the real reason was that I felt guilty as hell about what I had done, and what I had allowed to happen in that hot tub. I knew when Zeck first started touching me under the water I should have stopped him. I should have pushed his hand away. I should have told my husband or his wife. I could have screamed, I should have done a lot of things, but I didn't. I sat there and let him touch me. I let him put his hands on me, in front of my husband Don.
Now, that act tormented me, I kept thinking about it, night and day. Every time I would slow down I would think about how exciting it had been to fuck that unknown black man. I felt sick about it; that the touch of some black man's hand had effected me so that I let him led me into a bathroom for a quick fuck. I was a married women and I felt sick with remorse. I found that I couldn't sleep at night, and every time Don tried to touch me I felt almost repulsed. I felt dirty, I felt like a slut for what I had allowed to happen. Then why did I keep thinking about it? Why?
It only took a few days for Don to start to notice that something was wrong. He tried to talk to me about it several times but I just couldn't talk to him about what was troubling me. How do you tell your husband that you had cheated on him? How do you tell your husband that when he touches you, you feel guilty and cheap?
It only took Don a week to act. Right after the end of the year, he told me that he wanted us to start going to see a marriage counselor. I was happy that he was so concerned about our marriage. I knew that I was going to have to tell Don what I did on Christmas Eve or I would never be at peace with myself. Confession is good for the soul they say, I hoped they were right. Maybe through a counselor I would be able to find the strength to profess, and get this all behind us. If I didn't, I felt that it was going to ruin our marriage.
I let Don set up the appointment for the marriage counselor. Don told me that the counselor had already met with him and now wanted to meet with me. He gave me the address and I noticed that it was in the Washington Heights area. That was a part of the city I didn't know very well, so to get there I took a cab. I dressed in a nice green dress, it was simple and conservative, it was my first visit to this marriage counselor and I wanted to make a good impression.
I was nervous as the cab pulled up at the address that Don had given me. It was a small red brick business building on West 180th street. I paid the cab and walked into the building. I started to think about what I was going to say to this counselor. I knew that I loved Don and that I needed to work this out with him. I had already decided that I was going to tell the truth no matter what was asked of me. I needed to come clean and find a way that I could tell my husband what I had done without destroying my marriage. I just had too.
There was a large black woman behind the reception desk. She smiled at me as I approached.
"I'm Mrs. Hamil. My husband made me an appointment with a marriage counselor at this address." I said trying to grin back to her.
"Oh Mrs. Hamil, yes we are ready for you. Please follow me." She rose and started off down a wide, well lit hallway.
I followed her, my high heel shoes clicking on the tile floor as I hurried after her. She led me to an opened doorway and I stopped just outside of the door. Looking over her shoulder I saw that the room was empty except for a large desk, a couch and a few chairs set up in a circle. The receptionist turned and smiled again, I couldn't help but notice that she had lipstick stuck to her teeth.
"My name is Marcy." The receptionist said. "If you would just take a seat and make yourself at home, the marriage counselor will be with you in a moment."
Marcy closed the door leaving me alone in the room. Now that I was so close to meeting this marriage counselor, I was getting nervous. I hoped that Don had contacted someone that both of us could talk to. I hoped for someone that could understand what I was thinking. I didn't really feel like going into all the details, I was just going to tell the counselor that I had an affair, which would cover it. I would not mention the fact that the affair happened in a bathroom.
There was a polite knock on the door, the kind that a doctor used before he entered a room. I strengthened myself and watched the door open. I was totally shocked! I knew his face in an instant, it was Zeck. My hands went up to cover my open mouth.
"Oh my God I can't believe it!" I gasped.
Zeck just stepped in and closed the door. He walked past me and without a word went to the desk and dropped a yellow folder unceremoniously upon it. He loosened his tie and looked at me. I suddenly felt naked before him, I felt dirty. There was something about this older black man, a presence that demanded your attention. He stood about six foot tall and he was broad at the shoulders. His hair had gone mostly gray at the temples but it was still black at the top.
"It's nice to see you again so soon Mrs. Hamil." He said with a knowing smile.
I faced him and I felt a rush of emotions flood through me. I was afraid, I had to fight not to turn and run out of the door. I was ashamed. Out of all the people in New York how could Don have picked this man as a counselor? I felt my cheeks flush and I realized that I still had my hand over my mouth. I slowly lowered it.
"You. H...How could it be you? You're a preacher not a m...marriage counselor." I stammered.
"It's true, I am a preacher." Zeck turned and pointed out the window to a large stone block building outside. "That's my church; I just do counseling services for the membership from time to time, when it's needed, at no charge." He added as he leaned back on the desk behind him.
