Sue's Lucy Day

I'm a retired English gentleman living in the USA, married happily for many years to an American lady. I am, for my age, fit and active. My story takes place during a short trip to the UK to attend a three-day conference on what was previously my speciality, marriage and relationship counselling. In truth, as I was retired, I didn't need to attend, but I liked to keep up on the latest developments in the field.

The first day at the conference was long and tiring as I was still a little jet-lagged from my flight. I was really looking forward to a nice long bath and a relaxing evening. After the conference ended, I walked slowly back to my hotel through the freshly fallen leaves littering the footpath through a park in central London. I had taken this route to better admire the magnificent display of autumn colours decorating the trees. The path wound around a small lake, and I decided to sit a while on one of the cast-iron benches provided. Most were taken by families feeding the wildfowl on the lake, but I managed to find a space for myself on the end of a bench seat already occupied by a lady. She wore a hooded raincoat that hid her face, and not wishing to intrude on her personal space, I said,

"Please excuse this intrusion, but would you mind if I sat here?"

I think she may have been a little startled to hear me. She raised her head and slid back her hood, and I saw she was a middle-aged lady of about fifty years of age. I also noticed her red, tear-filled eyes, and she was clearly very upset about something. My first thought was to leave her to her worries, but after she quickly wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue, she replied in a quiet, soft voice,

"Yes, of course, you can."

I brushed the fallen leaves from the seat and sat down beside her, fully expecting her to leave as she knew I had seen her tears. But she remained seated, her head now cradled in her hands. The situation was a little uncomfortable for me, as I'm sure it was for her, so I decided to break the ice by asking,

"Forgive me, but I hate to see anyone so upset. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She raised her head once more, looked me in the eyes, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm just being a bit silly. Thank you for your concern, but there is nothing you can do."

I have always considered myself a gentleman, with all the old-fashioned virtues that come with that, and I certainly wasn't about to abandon this 'damsel in distress' until I was absolutely sure she was OK. I pushed her a little more by asking,

"I understand we are strangers, but it's true that it's often easier to share your problems with someone you don't know than it is to talk to family or close friends. I know from personal experience how uncomfortable, or even embarrassing, it can be to discuss matters such as money worries or something of a more personal nature with them."

She was a little more composed now that her tears had stopped, and in answer, she quickly blurted out,

"No, it's not money worries."

Her answer obviously inferred it was a more personal problem, and I think as soon as she said it, she regretted it because she rose out of the bench as if to leave. I too rose and said,

"Please forgive me. I do apologise. Your personal life is absolutely none of my business. But before you leave, permit me to tell you my name is James, James Knight and I'm a retired relationship counsellor. I'm here in London for a conference, and I leave for the USA in a few days. It is not very scientific, I know, but I truly feel fate has led us to meet like this. You have a worry that has upset you, and I have spent all my working life helping worried people just like yourself. If you would kindly allow me, I would like to try and help you too? Can you at least please tell me your first name?"

She looked at me and softly stammered,

"I'm Sue but, I'm not sure. No, I'm sorry I just can't tell you."

Not wishing to pressure her further, I took one of my old business cards and wrote my hotel name and room number on the back. Handing it to her, I said,

"I understand, but should you change your mind and want someone to share your problems with, you can find me here. I will be available anytime after 4 pm today or tomorrow."

She took the card and, slipping it into her purse, said,

"Thank you, James; you have been very kind," and walked rapidly towards the park exit.

The next day I kept myself busy catching up with old colleagues and attending various boring seminars. By late afternoon, I was ready to call it a day and headed back to my hotel. Walking through the park once more, I wondered if Sue might be sitting there again, but the bench was empty. On entering my hotel, I decided to visit the bar, and you can imagine my surprise when I spotted a familiar figure seated on a bar stool. It was Sue from the park, but I hardly recognised her. She wore a lovely mustard-coloured silk dress, and unlike yesterday when her hair was mostly hidden by her hood, it now spilled down in soft waves over her shoulders. Although, like many women of her age, she carried a few extra pounds, she was a very attractive lady. I walked across to her and said,

"Hi again, Sue. It's nice to see you again. I'm pleased to say you are looking a lot happier than you did yesterday."

"Hello, James," she replied. "I do feel better, but I'm not sure I would say I'm happier. I hardly slept at all last night trying to decide if I should come to see you or not, but yesterday was such an awful day that I had to do something. I'm just not sure what that something is, so if I may, can I take you up on your kind offer of help?"

I was pleased she had, in my mind at least, made the right decision to seek help, and I reassured her by replying,

"Of course you can. I promise to do all I can to resolve your problem, but I only have a day or so before I fly home. It's not much time, so perhaps we should get started right away? If you are happy to do so, finish up your drink, and we can go up to my room. Once there, you can tell me as much or as little as you are comfortable with about what is worrying you."

I offered her my hand, and she slid a little clumsily from the bar stool. In doing so, her dress caught on the stool and rode up, revealing her silk panties. She didn't seem to notice and simply straightened her dress. We took the elevator to my room and went in. I asked her to sit on the small leather sofa, and I called room service to deliver more drinks. We made small talk for a few minutes about this and that, and when our drinks arrived and we were settled, I asked her,

"So, Sue, what is so worrying in your life that caused you to sit sobbing in the park? Just start at the very beginning and try to be as honest and open as you can. Remember I have been in the relationship business for many years. There is nothing you can tell me that I will not have heard before, so please be candid in telling me everything. I am non-judgemental and assure you that whatever you tell me will never ever be divulged to anyone else."

And so she began,

"OK, I'll try, but it isn't easy for me. I was married at the young age of eighteen, and my husband Ken was nineteen. It was a match made in heaven from the day we met. Ken is the love of my life, and I love him with all my heart and soul. He is the only man I have ever wanted. Before we met, I had never even kissed another man, and that remains the case today. We are as close to soulmates as it is possible to get."

She faltered, and I could see she was on the verge of tears again. I offered her a tissue, and she took a small sip of her drink before composing herself and continuing.

"Our love life, I mean, well, you know, our sex life--has been okay. Neither of us has a very high need for sex, but it does happen occasionally, and I had always thought that is how it generally works, I mean, in other marriages too."

I interrupted her.

"Sue, it seems like you have everything you want. There are few people who could say what you have said about their marriages. If it sounds like you are perfectly matched to each other. Is the problem outside your marriage then? If you don't tell me everything, it's unlikely I can help."

She rose from her chair and strode around the room. She was obviously flustered and trying to tell me something important but couldn't summon up that last bit of courage to explain it all to me. I had already decided from her earlier comments that it was something sexual, so I next used a well-tried technique of questions to see if she would open up.

"Sue, I'm about to ask a number of what you might consider very intrusive and intimately sexual questions. You don't have to answer them, but it might help us if you can. Are you happy for me to do that?"

Her quick answer of "Yes" was another indication that she desperately needed to tell me what was wrong and just needed an easy route to do so. I began with.

"Sue, when you have sex with Ken, do you have an orgasm?"

She looked at me wide-eyed in shock and almost whispered,

"Oh, I didn't think you would ask that. Why would that help me?"

"A simple yes or no will suffice, or you can explain if you wish."

"Well, I do like the closeness. The cuddles and kisses and the like, but the other thing, I don't really know. I see other women in films and on TV in love scenes, but I don't really understand the moaning and being out of breath. We are not that active that we get exhausted."

It was blatantly clear that she had no real idea of what a real orgasm was, so I asked if a lack of sexual satisfaction was at the heart of her problem.

"Oh no," she said. "That's not it at all. I will explain, but I don't really know how to. It's so embarrassing to talk about."

She drained her drink, and I rang room service and ordered us another bottle. I had a feeling she would need at least one more if we were to get to the root of her problem. She excused herself and went to the bathroom as I reviewed my notes and returned just as our new bottle arrived. I refilled her glass and handed it to her, saying,

"Okay, Sue, can you tell me if you have an orgasm when you masturbate?"

She snapped an answer saying, "Oh, I don't do that. That's not nice at all."

There was clearly an issue with her over how she viewed what are perfectly normal sexual acts. I needed to probe a little more deeply.

"You are doing really well Sue. A first meeting is never easy, but just try and be open with me, and all will be well."

I'm not sure if it was my laid-back manner, the alcohol she had consumed, or a combination of both, but she suddenly said,

"I'm going to tell you everything now, James. You were kind to me in the park, and even though your questions have shaken me, I'll trust you and confide in you, but please don't tell anyone else. The truth is Ken wants me to have sex with another man, and then he wants to watch and join in. There, I've said it, and if you now want me to leave, I will."

I was not surprised by her outburst or its content. I had come across this many times before in my job. It is one of the most common male fantasies there is, and I knew it is based on a powerful biological need many men have. It is also one of the most difficult to deal with, as there are only two courses of action for the wife, either Yes or No. Plus, to make matters worse, neither answer is right or wrong. In some cases, an arrangement of this sort can help strengthen a marriage, but in other cases, it can destroy it. There was only one question I now needed to ask.

"What do you yourself want to do, Sue?"

She thought for a moment or two and then said, "I told you I love Ken, and I don't want to lose him. He hasn't told me that he would leave me over this, although it is a worry. I do want him to be happy, and if this is what he wants, then I told him I would consider it. That's what upset me in the park. I was thinking about agreeing with him and going ahead, but the thought of having sex for the first time with a man other than Ken, and in front of him, is something I am dreading. I have no real experience, and what if I make a complete fool of myself? What will happen if I disappoint them both?"

I could understand her predicament. She was obviously a kind, caring, and considerate woman, and I felt sorry for her. It was difficult to know what to advise. I decided to let her continue talking, so I said, "Tell me more, Sue."

She was feeling more confident now she had opened up, but what she said next was totally unexpected. To my utter astonishment, she said, "I want you to help, like you said you would. I want you to have sex with me first James, before anyone else. Then I will know what to do and how to make Ken happy. I think if you are my first, then perhaps afterwards I can do it with Ken and someone else."

During my long career, I had experienced this situation numerous times. It is the classic 'You know and understand my needs' scenario. I had never acted on the various 'invitations' I have had from female clients over my long career. It would have been professional suicide to have done so. It would have ended my career immediately. The only answer I could quickly muster was, "But why, Sue? Why on earth would you want to have sex with an old man like me? You hardly know me, and I'm sure there are many younger men who would be thrilled to have sex with such a beautiful woman."

"Because you are kind, and I trust you now, but I'm so sorry, James, I am so ashamed and it was a stupid, silly mistake to come. Perhaps I should go?"

She rose from her chair and made for the door. I stood and caught her by the arm. She turned to me, and I could see the tears flowing once more. Instinctively I pulled her close, and she sobbed on my shoulder. Now I was the one with the dilemma. My mind was racing with different thoughts.

It was true that I was now retired and so released from my professional obligation not to get too close to clients. It was also true that I was happily married and had never 'strayed' before. But I held in my arms a very sad and worried woman, and I felt duty-bound to help her. That she had asked for help in an unconventional manner didn't change the fact that she needed my help. I turned her tear stained face towards mine and gently whispered

"OK Sue. but I must first be absolutely sure this is what you want. I want you to go down to the bar, buy yourself a drink and after you have finished it either come back to my room, or return home. If you don't return I will understand. However if you decide to come back to me I promise the Sue that enters my room, will be a very different Sue that goes home to her husband Ken. Perhaps a kiss will help you decide"

I guided her to the door and, after sharing a long kiss, she headed for the bar. I had no doubt she would return and spent the next half hour running a deep scented bath for us to share. Sure enough a little later there was a soft knock on the door, and on opening it Sue stood there.

"Hi, Sue," I said. "I'm pleased you came back."

She made to enter through the door, but I blocked her way. Checking there was no one else within earshot in the passageway, I whispered, "Sue, before I let you in, I need to talk very seriously with you. When I have finished, I will need an answer. A simple 'No, James' or 'Yes, James.' There is no right or wrong answer. By being here, you are halfway to an answer, but I need you to confirm it for me. I want no misunderstanding between us. I will abide by your answer whatever it is, but I just want it to be the one you truly want."

"OK, James," she said. "I think I understand. I'm listening, so please go on."

"Sue, If your answer is 'Yes, James,' then when you come in, and I close the door behind you, it will not reopen again for three or four hours. During our time together, you must forget all that has gone before in your life. Forget both Ken and your marriage as they are of no importance here. All that is important is your total sexual fulfilment and satisfaction. Whatever takes place between us today will never be known to anyone but the two of us. We are here for one reason only, to become passionate lovers. I want you to trust me and let me lead the way. You know I will not hurt you."

She listened carefully, her eyes wide with surprise as I continued.

"Today we will only talk to each other in the raw, earthy language of true lovers. We will not 'tip-toe' around using words like 'making love' but we will fuck each other. We will fuck softly, gently, and tenderly, or a little more harshly and passionately, whichever brings you more pleasure. We will not share love or romance of any sort. You already have that in your life, and it awaits you back home, but by the time the door re-opens later today, you will have had your wish fulfilled. I truly believe that being fucked multiple times by me will change your life in many wonderful, positive ways."

As I had expected, she was visibly shocked by my blunt words. I could see it in her eyes and the tenseness in her body. I knew she was not prepared for such an onslaught of her senses or her sensibilities. But I also saw a widening of her pupils, a blush to her neck and face, an increase in the rate of her breathing indicating her heart was racing. All these were subtle indications of underlying sexual arousal. She was torn between 'Yes, James' or fleeing, probably for good. I leaned in close to her and said, "Perhaps another kiss will help you decide?"

Our lips met, and she immediately and passionately returned my kiss, while at the same time mumbling in my mouth, "Yes, James."

We both stepped slowly into my room as I mumbled back to her, "Okay, let's go fuck," and the door closed softly behind us.

I had visited the small chemist shop during the time Sue was in the bar. I had bought the essentials of KY gel, bath and massage oils, and I had prepared both Champagne and a nice, warm, and scented bath. I really needed to know how Sue was going to respond to my advances, so I said, "Why don't we kiss a little more, and as we do, I can undress you for your bath?"

She didn't hesitate but clasped her hands behind my neck and kissed me deeply, our tongues dancing and probing as we kissed. I unbuttoned her dress, slid it off her shoulders, and let it fall. She had on a lacy black bra with a front fastening. She flinched slightly as I began to release it and held me closer to prevent me from doing so.

I whispered softly in her ear as I kissed her neck, "Remember what you agreed to, Sue. You had your chance to leave, but you, and you alone, chose to stay. There are no boundaries, no limits, and no taboos in our own world. I want you naked and totally exposed to me. My cock will soon visit you for the first time in your life, and it will not be the last. Your tits, your sweet pussy, your mouth, and your ass will all be available to me until you leave. When you leave, I promise you will be a new woman. Would you like to be fucked by me, Sue? Tell me in the words of a true lover."

I kissed her again, and then she drew back a little, freeing up my hands. I then unclasped her bra and slid it off her shoulders as her tits spilled from their restraints. As I stood back to look at her, she covered herself with her hands, her face flushed with a mixture of both embarrassment and sexual arousal. But I sensed she was at last beginning to relax and realise what was to come. She bit her bottom lip and lowered her hands, gifting me full sight of her tits and, not surprisingly, erect and swollen nipples.

She stammered, "Yes, James. I want you to fuck me. I can't believe I am saying it, but yes, it's what I want."

I took her in my arms once more. I fondled her tits and erect nipples as we kissed, then I led her toward the waiting bath. She saw the warm scented water and realised it was for us both. Without further protest from her, I lowered her black lace panties a little. She was more than a little reluctant to take them down and reveal her most private of places to me, saying, "Please, James, no one but Ken has ever seen my vagina. I mean, my pussy. Ken and I, we always do it, you know, fuck under the covers." but I persisted and eventually she took them off herself.