Now only the end is between us

A strange phone call from my husband Dan this morning. He is Tokyo making a documentary about sex hotels. He says he has been thinking about something for some time. What's that, I ask?

He says he thinks our marriage is over. He says I have changed. He says I am no longer the woman he married. He wants to stay in Tokyo for at least a year. I sense there is a woman somewhere in the background.

He expects me to cry, maybe. But I don't cry. I could feel the end lying heavily between us, when he was packing his bags to leave for the airport. I could feel the claustrophobia in the room as he rushed down to the taxi in the street.

He is still talking, talking about the minatae of our lives. How we will split up everything, when I silently replace the phone.

I find that I am crying. Crying because when things change it is almost unbearable. Even though I know it is over, I know I loved him once.

The phone rings and I don't want to answer, thinking it is him again. But it turns out to be Dr Butler.

"Dr Butler," I sob.

"I think you can call me Sue, after what happened the other day."

"Did you like it?"

There is a long silence. "You know I did. Why did you rush off like that, afterwards?"

"I don't know. I felt like I had made you do something that you might regret if I hung around."

"No, and I haven't been able to think of anything but you since then. How have you been?"

"A little shook up. Dan just phoned. Seems like he wants a divorce."

"And what do you want?"

"Just you," I said. "Will you come over? I don't want to be alone tonight. I just want you to hold me and sleep curled up beside me. Can you come over?"

"Yes. Yes of course. And I'll hold you all night and make this all better for you. And maybe this time we can make this all about your pleasure."

"Ah, that would be nice," I said, my hand finding its way down into my panties and beginning to stroke my clit. "See you in half an hour?" I say, replacing the phone, my hand still toying with my clit.

How true that old saying is. As one door closes, another one opens ...

I wanted to lick her out so bad

This past week I've been lying around the house, thinking about Dr Butler. I don't answer the phone. I don't even have the need to go out and steal. This is how I imagine her. She is lonely, she is thinking about me, she wants to make contact, but she can't, because she is cool, professional.

Yes, I would love to run my tounge up those nylon stockings. I've thought about it and thought about it. I've dressed myself in stockings and stroked my legs, dreaming they were hers and then, today, something happened.

I went for a session with her earlier on. It was late, nearly seven o'clock. Her secretary had gone home. It was just the two of us, in her overwarm study, filled with books. The room held the scent of her cunt. Or was it only I who could smell it, because I wanted her so bad? Wanted to pull up her skirt and...well, you know exactly what I wanted.

She looked tired, worried. She kept asking me about myself, about whether I was still stealing. When I told her I hadn't since she'd cured me, she lit up a little. Like I cared about anything anymore, than whether I could get under that skirt and smell her, and lick her until she was insensate with pleasure.

"I'm through with sleeping around," I said eventually.

"Oh?" she said, surprised. "What will you do with yourself now?"

I could hardly breathe as I walked over to her, knelt before her. I lay my face against her cunt and, through her skirt, breathed in her scent, salty, bittersweet, heady. I could have drowned in that smell. She stiffened, but I rubbed my face against her pudenda. She wanted me, I knew, and I felt my power over her.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, even as she leant back and almost imperceptibly parted her legs.

"I want you. I can't think about anyone else. I don't care about Dan anymore. Don't you understand?"

I wanted to put my tongue in her, but decided I would tease her a little first. I slipped her feet out of her high heels and started to lick the instep of her right foot. I licked her all the way up her legs, burying my tongue in the back of her knee. My cunt was about to burst, I was sopping wet, but this wasn't about me, it was about her. At last I came to the soft skin at the top of the stockings. Then an urgency gripped me and I could no longer wait. I pulled down her panties, yanked up her skirt and buried my face in her pussy. It felt like a tiny furry animal, trembling beneath my lips.

I looked up at her, at her eyes, which were clouded with lust.

"Have you done this before?" I asked.

"I've wanted to, but I was afraid."

I sunk my head down into her and teased her in long drawn out strokes, keeping away from her clit. I kissed her inner thighs and probed a finger into her cunt, but still I wouldn't make contact with her clit. She was wild now, grinding her wetness into my nose and mouth, like a wild thing, but I decided to tease her a little more.

Removing my mouth from her pussy, I reached up and unbuttoned her shirt, unsnapped her bra and started to suck her tits. God, they are so warm and lush and full, I could stay there all night. Meanwhile, she was getting impatient, starting to touch herself. I watched for a while, fascinated by the way she was rubbing her clit back and forth, her other hand urgently tugging at her nipple.

"Let me help you out," I said, taking pity on her. In the end, I lay back on her Arabian carpet and told her to lower herself onto my mouth. I was drowning in all the creaminess, the wetness. She was fucking my face, God it was hot, to finger her harder and harder, until she was reduced to just a hole. Pretty soon she was gripping my hair, throwing her head back and crying out like an animal. I was bursting with pleasure, as this tight repressed bitch eventually shuddered violently against my mouth.

"I take it you enjoyed that?" I said, smiling.