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Essence of an Affair

Page 9

by Max Sebastian


  'Can I... use my mouth?' she suddenly said, so quietly he almost missed it.

  He stifled a gasp, although only just, for fear of offending her. God. She really wanted to put her mouth there? But this was his penis... this was what he used to pee...

  Nevertheless the peer pressure felt insurmountable. Here was that classic introvert's dilemma of not wanting to seem like a dick, and yet at the same time being uncomfortable with what was being asked of him. Perhaps before, when he'd been a different Jens, he'd have opted for saying no to her, risking offense and risking embarrassment by telling her he was still uncomfortable with such a notion.

  But he'd taken so many risks recently. And he could just go straight into the shower if things turned out badly, the two of them were here in private.

  'Uh... okay...' he said, feeling as though he was about to take a step off the highest diving board at an Olympic pool.

  She smiled again, so brightly, and he so loved making her happy like that, it gave him additional resolve. He lay back, tried to relax, and then with the base of his shaft firmly gripped in her hand, she ducked down to gently kiss the tip of his cock--and then envelope it in her warm, pillow-soft lips, and in her hot mouth.

  'Oh God...' he said, trying not to jump out of his skin.

  Oh Jesus, it was so wrong. She had his cock in her mouth, her shapely lips wrapped around his girth, her pretty face sinking down on his length, taking him deep into her throat. How could she do that?

  And yet it felt incredible. And recently, things that seemed on the surface to be so very wrong had also started to seem very exciting to him.

  She withdrew, but her hand remained in place, slowly pumping him. She looked up at him, smiling so sweetly, so delighted to be doing this, he couldn't feel bad.

  'It's not so bad, huh?' she giggled, and he had to return her smile.

  'You really... you're okay...?' he said, so doubtful, finding it so difficult that someone would enjoy doing such a thing to a man.

  She chuckled. 'I love making you feel good. It makes me feel good...'

  He could understand something of that. The excitement that he experienced to know she was being satisfied--even by someone else. Perhaps there was something like that in what she felt going down on him. Sex wasn't just about making yourself feel good, after all, there was a strong element of altruism involved--he'd read enough about it to know that. And if you went a little further down the altruism route, you would get to the kind of feelings he had thinking about Effie dating another man.

  She planted little kisses along his shaft, and on his tip, and gently swirled her tongue around his glans as though it was a sweet lollipop.

  But then she took him back inside her mouth, sinking down deep on his length, surprisingly deep, and it felt so incredible he knew he was never going to last much longer.

  When it happened, he was momentarily gripped by panic, and tapped her on the back of her head to warn her what was about to occur. She looked up at him with confusion at first, and perhaps a little disappointment since she thought he was telling her to stop because he could no longer stand any of this. But it only took a couple of seconds of gazing into his frantic face for her to realize what was going on--and then she suddenly seemed to relax.

  She pulled back from his cock briefly, gasping for breath as she continued pumping his shaft with her hand, saying breathlessly, 'it's okay. I want you to, honey. Come for me. Come in my mouth.'

  Then she sank down deep on him again, and though he could not understand why she would tolerate such a thing, he was also too far gone to stop himself reacting to her hot mouth, and too overwhelmed by a myriad of new feelings to really stop and consider how unsavory it might be to have a man shoot his semen into her mouth.

  And then he had his hands upon her head, and he was grunting as his hips bucked, and his cock jumped, and his orgasm tore through, and there was nothing he could do to prevent himself from spurting out his thick cream deep into her throat.

  As he came, she swallowed, and still seemed completely elated, and Jens even felt a tickle of wrongness about it that only fed back into his own sexual arousal.

  How could he be so turned on by something that seemed so wrong? He didn't know, but he couldn't deny his feelings.

  14

  Comfortable

  'You had intercourse with her, after that?' the therapist asked, as though he was merely asking whether there'd been a cheese course at the end of some fancy meal he'd had.

  'No, I didn't. We showered, and then... went to bed.'

  'She was happy with that?'

  'Seemed to be.'

  The therapist gave a little nod.

  'This was the second time she'd touched you in a sexual manner.'

  'That's right.'

  'And you... enjoyed it?'

  The man peered at Jens over his spectacles and it seemed like he had more than just professional interest, but was trying to hide his fascination.

  'It felt good,' Jens said, and though this should have been a private matter between a man and his wife, Jens felt strangely thrilled about underlining his wife's abilities in this area to a man he barely knew. 'Actually, it was better than good, it was pretty fucking amazing.'

  'You didn't have any panic attacks... there was no nausea?'

  Jens shook his head. 'I was embarrassed at first. I hadn't had a shower, I was a little... sweaty. But she seemed so interested, so into it, it was reassuring.'

  'And she was... naked. You were all right with that?'

  'She looked just unbelievable. Kneeling down there. Her breasts...'

  'Would you say you were getting comfortable with her touching you?'

  'Very comfortable, I'd say.'

  'Did she touch any other part of you?'

  'She... brushed against my legs at times...'

  'And it was okay?'

  'It didn't seem to bother her, so --'

  'But did it bother you? Were you more worried about how she perceived contact with you than how it was for you?'

  He shrugged, 'I was concerned that I hadn't showered--'

  'But she didn't worry about it?'

  'Not so much, no. I think she was distracted...'

  'So do you think you would be able to touch her now?'

  'I'm not sure.'

  All day at work, every day that week, he thought of her. As he carefully considered ingredients for the new scent, he had her in mind. As he found possible candidates, and confirmed how they worked together, he used her as his target market, his muse.

  15

  Preparing for Him

  She'd been shopping, along the walking street, Stroget, and in the early evening had brought back a disturbing number of bags featuring luxurious fashion brands that made the eyes pop--Prada, Gucci, Luis Vuitton, Top Shop, Tommy Hilfiger, Victoria's Secret. Dresses, shoes, lingerie.

  His stunned reaction had made her laugh after dropping her bags inside the front door.

  'I'm not keeping all of it,' she said.

  'You're not?'

  'I'll try them on, and take back the ones I don't like.'

  'You'll take them back? After trying them on?'

  He couldn't quite comprehend the concept, but stopped himself from saying anything further in case she started thinking he was an idiot.

  'That's what people do nowadays,' she said, pulling a pair of black high-heeled shoes out of a Gucci bag to admire them, as though she'd forgotten what they looked like. 'You just never paid any attention to it before. And since we always buy you exactly the same clothes each time...'

  He really hadn't paid any attention to her clothes shopping before. She went out and shopped, and he always stayed home. When he needed something, it could be easily delivered, and arrived suitably sealed in a plastic bag, unopened, untried.

  'But shops really let you just... take something back? After you've worn it?' he asked her.

  'Yeah--well, after trying it on. It's hardly like I've worn it more than a minute or two. And I suppos
e the shop will... well, wash it, before they put it back out for sale.' She shrugged like she had no idea what happened to clothes taken back by customers, and as though even if the items weren't washed before being put back out for sale, it wasn't a big deal.

  Did normal people really care that little for hygiene?

  And yet now Effie was looking in a Victoria's Secret bag at something that looked scandalously lacy, and Jens suddenly found that he wasn't interested in whether stores washed clothes returned as unwanted by shoppers. It suddenly struck him that Effie's shopping was all about making herself look sexy for her date that evening.

  It reminded him that she was going to sleep with Nico that very night.

  'You can watch me try on a few things, if you like?' she said, newly confident in her desirability, in the knowledge that she could turn him on by flaunting herself before him, rather than hiding herself away.

  'Uh... okay.'

  'Tell me what you think?'

  They went into the bedroom, and the way Effie looked in the skin-tight white skirt and crimson long-sleeved top she'd been shopping in, Jens wondered why she even needed to buy new clothes to impress her date. But it was strangely hot, witnessing the lengths to which she was going to impress him. To get him hot for her. To get him ready to sleep with her.

  She stood in front of the full-length mirror, but then was turning to face him as she peeled off her crimson top, unzipped her skirt and wriggled out of it.

  'You know you don't need to buy anything special to impress him, right?' he said to her, and made her smile.

  'But it's all part of the fun,' she giggled, turning slowly to flaunt her body for him, even before she'd put anything new on, even before she'd removed her 'ordinary' black bra and thong set that would make any red-blooded male, and many red-blooded females, quake in their boots just to watch her.

  And boy, was it part of the fun. Off came her bra, and then down came her thong, and then she was scampering into the bathroom for a shower, leaving the door open so that he could watch.

  'Do the stores require you to shower before you try on their stuff?' he asked her as she washed herself.

  'Not at all,' she giggled. 'This is just for your benefit.'

  'So most people... don't shower before trying stuff on?'

  She looked at his repulsed face and only laughed, and made him once again wonder how ordinary people got through life without being constantly ill, catching diseases while trying on clothes other people had already tried on, and from cramming into busy streets like Stroget to take unwanted items back.

  He noticed how she had left her dirty clothes on the floor in front of the mirror, and it again made him think how different things were getting--before, she would have put her clothes straight in the washing machine, and if she hadn't, he probably would have reacted with shock and horror. And now, here he was feeling bizarrely turned on by the sight of her thong lying there on the carpet, and here he was, waiting until Effie was facing away from him in the shower, then going to pick up her underwear, to marvel at how it was still warm from her body. To cautiously press it to his nose almost like it was some kind of test for how far he had progressed in coming to terms with human proximity.

  It was too strong. Though it turned him on to a ridiculous extent, the powerful aroma of her body and her excitement felt as though it was burning his olfactory senses.

  'I have clean ones, if you'd prefer.'

  Her voice shook him out of his daze, and now he was massively embarrassed to find her standing there wrapped in a towel, looming over him as he knelt on the floor, her panties in his hands.

  'No, I...' he said, stumbling over his words, not really knowing what to say, feeling a flush in his cheeks, the fear of what she would think about him.

  She took the thong from him, and didn't seem at all angry. But he just wanted the ground to come swallow him up.

  'It's okay, you know. It's normal for a guy to... you know... enjoy how a woman smells...'

  He gave a little nod, but was so embarrassed he almost felt like throwing up.

  Effie smiled, taking pity on him and yet at the same time, somehow pleasantly surprised at what she had caught him doing. 'You really... like this?' she said softly. 'I mean... I never thought... with your sensitive nose...' She put the scrap of black material to her face as he had, but then pulled it away, wrinkling her nose. 'Ooo. I guess I got a little sweaty running around the shops,' she said.

  He hated feeling so weak. With his condition, he got to feel that way a lot. But he didn't like it when he was with Effie--the whole point of their relationship, as it had first developed, was that they had both understood where the other was coming from, and that neither of them were being weak in dealing with their issues. Quite the opposite.

  So he took a deep breath, and said, 'I'm not afraid of you anymore.'

  Anyone else probably would have made fun of him for ever being afraid of a fairly petite woman like Effie. Anyone else might have been surprised he was ever afraid of her. But Effie just smiled, and stroked his hair. 'I'm so proud of you,' she said.

  He looked up at her like some loyal, adoring puppy, and said, 'When I discovered... you know... you were starting to get interested in... well, another guy... I guess it opened my eyes.'

  She smiled, but sitting on the edge of her bed, she raised a curious eyebrow. 'How did you figure it out? I mean, I knew we'd talked about it a while ago, and that you wanted me to see other guys... but you said you didn't want to know... and I thought I was being subtle...'

  He said, 'When our washing machine broke...'

  Her eyes widened. 'You could tell from my clothes?'

  He shrugged, 'I could smell the perfume you used when you went out...'

  She sighed, nodded, 'Not exactly easy to hide that when you can't do your laundry...' then her face brightened up and she added, 'So that turned you on? The perfume?'

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. 'Not so much the perfume. You. And when you came back from a night out... there was something...'

  'Something in my underwear?' she grinned, and he blushed again. 'I guess it did turn me on, thinking about dating again.'

  She held her panties up to her nose again, briefly. 'You really can tell, huh. I guess I was feeling pretty hot about shopping for my date, too.' To his surprise, she handed him her underwear. 'You really like that?'

  Jens shrugged. 'It made me think of you... maybe seeing another guy...' He clutched her panties, but still felt a little idiotic about it.

  She said, 'You never thought you might want to... you know...' She opened her towel a little, exposing all of her slender legs, her shapely, caramel thighs.

  'I was afraid,' he admitted.

  'And now?' she gave him a mischievous grin, and hiked the towel another few inches, while parting her knees so he could see her sweet pussy in all its glory.

  'Now I have new medication,' he chuckled.

  'Viagra?'

  'Not quite,' he said, feeling his heart fluttering, feeling kind of dazzled by her pussy being right there in front of him, so close, and the way that she was leaning back, propping herself up on her elbows, spreading her thighs, inviting him in, offering him the chance to explore.

  'You don't have to rush into anything, you know,' she said. 'You don't have to do anything before you're ready.'

  'I know,' he said, ducking down to kiss her just inside her knee. He put his hands on her hips, just amazed at how good it felt to touch her body, just stunned at how every inch of her form seemed perfectly designed to turn him on.

  Her skin was still clammy from her shower, and he could smell the scent-free soap products she used, even if they were supposed to be just that, scent-free. But as he kissed his way along her thighs, he began to smell her smell--her unique Effie-scent--and also the early signs of her sexual arousal.

  God, was she really letting him get this close? Did women really allow men in such an intimate place like this?

  He remembered how she had told him about
Nico going down on her--and that only boosted his desire for her.

  'You're so beautiful,' he said, savoring the sensation of his lips brushing against the soft skin of her inner thighs. 'I can't believe how lucky I am.'

  She said nothing for a moment, taken aback by his devotion, by his clear infatuation. She just stroked his hair, and he leaned in to place his lips on her soft skin at the top of her thighs, just inches away from her bare sex. He moved, and planted a little kiss at the apex of her pussy, provoking a little shiver in her. He breathed in her sexy scent, and he dipped his tongue in her moistened groove--and now he was tasting her wetness, and it seemed absolutely incredible to him.

  But then she stopped him. 'You're going to get me all horny before my date even begins,' she warned him. 'But afterward... when I get back... we'll have all night...'

  He smiled up at her.

  'You can take as long as you like,' she said.

  He thought about how it might be to be this close to her after she'd been well and truly fucked by her lover. Would he be able to stand it? It excited him to think of it, but he wondered if it would be like flying too close to the sun. He'd get so high, and then if he got too close, he might fall.

  He moved back to the bed, let her dry off and start trying on her new clothes, his whole body quivering with sexual energy as he watched her pulling on this dress or that, slipping on underwear that was lacy or satin or sheer, stepping into shoes with killer heels. He gave her his verdict, then enjoyed her stripping off again, noticing how hard her nipples were, and that despite her shower, and the fact that she'd stopped him from venturing too close to her, she was clearly getting a little wet down there.

  He enjoyed deciding on her outfit, her lingerie, her shoes--imagining the reaction of her lover when he peeled her clothes off. Watching her preening her hair, spending extra effort on her makeup, all for the benefit of another man.

  And the piece de resistance was the proto-perfume that he offered her, the beginnings of a brand new luxury fragrance that would be entirely inspired by her--all for her to try out on her date. She was lost for words as he gave her the little vial, as he explained himself, as he was finally able to share with her a little more about how he felt about her, about how he was coming to terms with being turned on by her body, her own scent, her sexuality, in a way that bypassed his obsessive-compulsive issues, his hypersensitivity, his abject fear of human contact.

 

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