Wendy was slightly early for her appointment. She walked up the stairs in what had started life as a Georgian Townhouse and was now home to a collection of offices and surgeries for a dentist, a single practice private doctor (UK NHS single doctor practices had been abolished after Dr Harold Shipman had murdered in excess of 250 of his older patients before he was caught) two podiatrists and a counsellor who had his office on the third floor. It was the counsellor whom Wendy had come to see.
The old fashioned brass plaque said 'Paul Walton, Phd, MA, Counsellor.'
She opened the door and walked through. The room was a small lobby office with a tiny desk and a chair behind it. There were a couple of hard backed chairs squashed against the wall facing the desk.
The room was decorated in muted and calming pastel shades and there were a couple of large paintings on the wall. One was a jokey cartoon in the manner of a Rorschach test, the other a scene of a Norwegian Fiord.
She noticed a button on the desk with a notice stating "please press." She pressed the button and before she could sit down on one of the chairs, an inner door opened and a man came out.
He wasn't classically handsome but, had she been looking for love, she supposed he would do. Though she wasn't looking for love and probably never would, again, she realised in a flash of insight.
"Hello! My name is Paul Walton." he spoke in a powerful, yet soothing voice.
"I'm Wendy Boston."
"Ah! My two o'clock appointment! Come on through to the inner sanctum!"
She followed him through into a room that followed the decor scheme in the waiting room, though there was something that spoke to the obvious sense of humour of Paul, there was a large "Peanuts" cartoon, featuring Lucy at her booth with the sign changed to: "The Psychologist Is In." Even in her somewhat depresed frame of mind, it made Wendy grin, briefly.
"I see you like my cartoon? A friend who is a talented artist did it for me. I suppose strictly speaking it breaks the copyright laws, but as everything said or seen in these consulting rooms is in confidence, how would they ever know?"
He settled her down in a deep and very comfortable leather armchair which was in front of his large, uncluttered desk.
He sat down and looked at her. "Well, Wendy, why don't you tell me what you need help with? And please address me as Paul. I am only doctor when I am at conferences!"
She swallowed and began: "My husband divorced me. It was my entirely fault. I did something very, very bad, unforgivable, really."
He looked at her. "And you want him back? For him to somehow get over it and to get back with you?"
She shook her head, sadly. "I'm afraid that ship's already sailed. Ideally, yes, I'd like that very much. But I know that's not even a pipe dream, now."
"OK," said Paul. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"
And so she did.
"It started with a bit of flirting at the Cricket Club. I mean, it was nothing too serious. It never got out of hand. We all knew the limits to which we could go before it became too silly and a danger to our marriages. I could put the more persistent ones off with a well chosen quip or a clever put down.
"Until one day, something was said between Steve Markham, my husband's best friend and me and it suddenly all started to get very serious, between the two of us.
"We arrange to meet for coffee at our house. I work from home, Steve had flexible hours, his wife works in a town a few miles away, Jack works in London and if anyone saw Steve going to our house, well, what of it?
"We were all friends and neighbours and as I was on the Ladies Committee of the Cricket Club and Steve was on the club committee, what of the fact we were having coffee? And I honestly thought that was all that was on my mind. A cup of coffee with Steve."
"And was it?" asked Paul, gently, but firmly.
She shook her head. "No, it wasn't. I am afraid to say that one thing lead to another and we ended up in bed together. Steve took the lead. He was a kind, considerate lover but he shouldn't have been my lover, should he? I'd cheated on my husband! I'd never cheated on my husband before! Never!
"And yet there I was, lying in bed with my husband's best friend. And what made it worse was that we were in our marital bed, where Jack and I made love! And I had spoilt our marital bed by having unprotected sex with another man in it!
"I'd let him pump his seed in me! And it was his best friend! I began to sob bitterly over my betrayal of my husband and Steve took me in his arms and comforted me.
"He told me that what I was feeling was guilt and that, although perfectly natural, it was a destructive force in the mind. He told me that there would be no harm done as we had had an hour or so of pleasure, but that so long as Jack never found out that the whole thing would be perfectly alright.
"When I told him that I felt guilty for allowing him to have his orgasm in me, and on our marital bed, he explained to me that this was better than if we had snuck off and done it in the bed in the spare bedroom, or in a motel, somewhere.
"He said if we has snuck off and done it that way, that would have meant we would both have known we were doing something wrong, something underhand and dirty. He then said he knew I was on the pill, so that it hadn't been unprotected sex at all.
"That it would have been far, far worse if he had brought condoms with him, because that would have been a calculated act of pre-planning to cheat. That we'd not pre-planned to cheat, we'd only planned to have a cup of coffee and that things had progressed naturally to their beautiful and logical conclusion.
"When I said that I felt I should confess to Jack, he put me off the idea. He told me Jack would never understand that any sexual liaisons between the two of us would be of not possible threat to our marriage and that telling him would only upset him unnecessarily.
"So I agreed that we would keep it our secret. And we also agreed to meet for coffee again later that week."
Paul nodded and said: "Please continue."
Wendy swallowed and started speaking again: "So, we fell into a pattern of meeting up for coffee and then we would have sex in my marital bed. We always had coffee, beforehand. I don't know why. Perhaps it was a way of normalising what we were doing, of making it seem less like cheating, to me?
"After a couple of months of this affair, Steve asked me a question. He asked if I'd ever thought of having two lovers at one time. I told him the idea was disgusting, but he persisted and over about the period of an hour, with us both lying in our, well, my bed, he got me turned around so much that I agreed to at least give it a try. He explained that it would help me with my marriage, help me explore myself as a sensual, sexual being.
"We arranged to have a special three-way tryst, Steve, myself and someone else from the Cricket Club, Doug our family doctor. We decided that we would do it at the cricket club. In the lounge.
"And so that's what we did. To my shame I have to say it felt really very, very good. The sensation of the sperm of two men inside my vagina was, well, I had never felt so turned on, to be honest! I knew that this was something Jack must never know about, because it would break his heart!
"I told Steve and Doug how wonderful it had felt, and a certain look passed between the two of them. 'What are you two buggers plotting?' I asked, with a grin on my face.
"They smiled at me and said they would come up with a plan to help ensure I got my fantasy of a really good, big load of spunk. I felt so excited! But I hadn't realised it was my fantasy, until Steve arranged for me to be taken by him and Doug."
Paul nodded. He was, of course, as always, wearing his non-judgmental head, but he thought he had a pretty good idea of how this story was going to play out.
"What happened next, Wendy?"
They said they'd arrange a special treat for me. They had decided to ask all the blokes in the cricket club who they thought they could trust to a special session with me. I was so nervous that on the morning of my... ah... adventure, I was physically sick!
"Somehow I was able to act normally around Jack. Well, I suppose the truth was that I'd been cheating on him with Steve for so long that pretending to be his loving, faithful wife had become second nature to me. But in a warped way, that was still the truth, in part. I was still his loving wife, but I was no longer his faithful wife.
"I was a bit worried, because apparently Jack's father, Frank, was going to be a part of the session, too as one of my lovers. I thought this was wrong, me fucking my own father-in-law, but Steve patiently pointed out that he had overheard him and Doug talking about our session and, rather than risk Frank telling Jack, they decided to include him."
She asked for a drink and Paul gave her a clear plastic cup of water from a dispenser. She thanked him and continued her story. "We had decided that all eleven of the guys would get to fuck me bareback, that they would come off inside me and that, if they could, they'd then have another go at me, later. I was fucked on a large, padded coach that the physio used to treat the cricketers if they needed any treatment.
"I had a pillow under my arse to keep my cunt at an angle to stop any of the spunk from coming out of me.
"Eventually, it was Steve's turn. He was to be my last lover of that morning's session. I used a small face towel to keep the spunk in place, then I sat down on Steve's cock, facing away from him, in one of the big, plush leather armchairs. Steve was just coming off in me when, to my horror, Jack came into the room with that fucking little bitch Sarah! It was all her bloody fault!"
"I remember I screamed and shouted: 'Get your cock out of me, Steve! My husband's here!' It was horrible! I disengaged myself from Steve's cock and I stood up.
"But then I realised that all of the spunk that they'd put into me was gushing out of me! Jack looked... I... oh... God, it was awful! The look on his face! It broke my heart! I still see it in my nightmares! He stared at the mess that was erupting from me and he spewed up on the carpet! Some of it splashed on Steve and my legs.
"I felt so humiliated, but I realised it had to have been far, far worse for Jack. He looked at me and shouted: 'You were with everyone in the cricket club except me, you fucking whore! Even my own father! Oh, Wendy, you fucking bitch! Why did you do it?'
Paul looked at her. "Well, that's the question we need to address, isn't it Wendy? Exactly why did you do it? And can you learn how to never do anything like that again?"
She looked at him and shook her head. "Is that possible?"
