Doing Anything for Love

Authors note: All of the characters in this story and series are over 18 years old

---

He has such an easy way with people.

I watched him talking to a group of his coworkers.

I listened to them laughing and talking. For as long as I could remember he was always totally comfortable with who he was. At company events, at the grocery store, or anywhere else we were in public. It didn't seem to matter, young or old, married or single; women seemed to be drawn to him as if by magic.

It's not that he didn't talk to men, but whenever I seemed to notice he was always talking with one woman or another.

It didn't make me jealous because I knew Brian was hopelessly in love with me; it just made me wonder even more about what must be wrong with me.

What made me even more crazy, and it had already happened three times tonight, as that women, some who I knew and others who I didn't; all felt comfortable enough to come up to me and say, "Heather, you must be so happy with Brian, he is so funny, so interesting, and so sexy too, you are such a lucky woman."

It happened so much that my reply was automatic; a big smile, a knowing nod of agreement, but always afterward hidden in the darkness of my mind I always felt the same question, why didn't I really feel that way, at least not anymore? It had been a very long time.

Brian was the only man I had ever loved and I knew I still did love him. Not only that, he was the only man I had really ever dated, and we had been married for a little more than twenty years. I had gotten pregnant right after university. The twins were born and we had gotten married three months before that. Those early days had been good times, full of life, passion, and lots of sex.

The twins had grown up through years of soccer, hockey, clubs, school activities, jobs, moves, and all the things families experience.

Today, while I still loved him, something in me had changed, what I wanted had changed, and even if I didn't know what I wanted, I knew I had changed. I felt guilty.

Brian was as passionate as ever, but our sex had almost evaporated, not because he wasn't attractive, or that he wasn't a good lover; except for a tiny bit of gray, at 41 he looked 15 years younger and still looked like he did when he was a championship swimmer in high school and college. Every day I still caught women and even a few men glancing and sometimes staring at him with his very toned body, especially when he was just wearing shorts. They found him attractive, everyone thought he was sexy, but I didn't anymore; what was wrong with me?

I didn't feel any passion. I still enjoyed him going down on me, I orgasm every time, but having penetrating sex just wasn't the same, it just wasn't something I needed to have.

Every time Brian made me orgasm, I felt incredibly guilty. I felt bad for Brian, and I worried I was becoming frigid if that was still a term anybody used but I knew that I couldn't be because I was still having orgasms. I was so confused. Brian told me not to worry and said that everyone loses their desire for sex sometimes. When I asked him if he did, his answer didn't make me feel any better; he said he was always ready for sex.

One day, he told me he had been talking to Liz, the new corporate lawyer, about therapists and she admitted to Brian she was seeing a therapist about her intimacy issues and wondered if her therapist might be able to help me. I was so wrapped up in my guilt and self-doubts I never questioned Brian about why he and this woman were talking about this subject, maybe I should have, but I didn't. Brian wondered as well if Liz's therapist might help me.

When I would ask Brian about his feelings toward me, he always said I was as beautiful today as the day he first met me. He said he loved me, supported me, wanted to help me, and would wait and when I was ready he would do whatever I wanted him to do. Instead of making me feel better, I only felt worse because deep in my heart I knew I wouldn't be able to do the same thing for him.

Finally, this fall when the twins went back to college Brian suggested again I see a therapist and asked me if I wanted to speak to Liz before making an appointment with hers. I wasn't sure, but Brian said I should consider talking to Liz and get her opinion.

I met Liz over coffee and found her to be very helpful, she raved about her therapist and how she had helped restore her confidence in herself after her marriage to a much older man had fallen apart. She told me how this Dr. Richards had helped her figure out what she wanted for herself and I shared some of my feelings. Liz was about our age, and slim, she said she ran a lot and was very attractive, and all through our conversation I could feel an electricity running just under my skin. If Liz noticed anything she didn't show anything, but I felt excited and I didn't notice until Liz left how wet I had become. Now I was guilty and more than a little confused.

That's why about a week or two later, I sat with a woman, a very attractive woman wearing a very prim business suit in a city park talking about why my high school sweetheart, the father of my children, and a man I adored, was someone who I was no longer attracted to.

She reassured me what I was feeling was very common. She asked if our kids had gone to school, she asked how my job was, and then she asked me about my dreams and fantasies. The first things were easy to talk about, but when she asked about my fantasies, I was so embarrassed I couldn't even begin to tell her because I didn't want to share what I thought about because those thoughts I knew weren't me, and they weren't things a married mom discussed with anyone.

Dr. Richards kept pushing and when I still wouldn't say anything, she asked me what I thought about when Brian went down on me.

Surprised at how this very prim-looking woman could ask me such a question, she noticed immediately and laughed, "Come on Heather, give me some credit, I am a woman who likes sex and who really enjoys a man going down on me, you may not like getting penetrated, but don't tell me you don't like a good tongue-lashing."

The entire time she talked to me I couldn't help but think something about her was hypnotizing, even in that first session as we talked it was all I could do not to stare at her brilliant green eyes that sparkled whenever she spoke, to notice every little detail of how she was dressed, how her scent reminded me of vanilla spices and wildflowers, and I wanted her to undress me and make love to me right there.

It was then, just as she asked me to describe how Brian made me orgasm, that she seemed to notice my fascination with her and she said to tell her what I was thinking right now.

I had never ever admitted to anyone before that moment that I thought about sex with a woman, but now, almost as if under a spell, I told her what I was thinking, about how beautiful I thought she was, how I wondered what she wore under her business suit, thoughts that turned me on so much that as I talked I could feel little rumbles of shallow orgasms tremor all through my body. She let me talk, sensing the dam break that had simply needed the right trigger.

When I finished, I realized I had spoken for more than an hour, I was flushed, sweaty, soaking wet, my nipples were rock hard, and Dr. Richards just smiled.

"Don't feel guilty Heather," she said as almost as if she knew that my feelings of release and honesty were going to be immediately followed by guilt and self-punishment.

"That was really honest of you, I didn't think you would tell me so soon how you feel, and I am actually really flattered that you think I'm attractive, I think you are pretty amazing yourself."

It was then I noticed she was a little flushed herself, and her scent from earlier was now mixed with something different, something erotic, and I realized she was aroused as well.

Finally, after a moment of silence, she smiled, leaned across, and kissed me lightly on my lips. My eyes fluttered at her unexpected action, the jolt of electricity that ran through my body, and the tiny moan that escaped from deep inside me.

"This was a good start, Heather,"

Our first session turned into many and many times I felt had told her more about me than I had ever told anyone before. Virtually every session was about me and my desires and virtually all of them revolved around Dr. Richards, Brooke as she insisted I now call her. Each began and ended with a kiss, or more like passionate kissing and increasingly more than a little petting, mostly by me. By the end of the second month, Brooke knew everything.

I had become so addicted to these sessions that I started worrying we were getting to the point where I would have nothing left for her. When I told her that, she smiled and said, "Now we are getting someplace."

---

A few days ago, my sister Nancy called and asked how my therapy was going.

What could I say, how could I tell her I had a crush on my therapist? That I had spent hours telling her about my desires to be with her, to make her orgasm, to be naked and let her ravish me. I knew I was horrible, I was married, I loved Brian, and I used to think I wasn't a lesbian but now I wasn't sure; hell, I was a forty-year-old mom with two twenty-year-old kids... How could I possibly be gay. The guilt, the self-doubts, the questioning racked my thoughts constantly and even while Nancy was talking.

Nancy had been talking for a while when I realized that I hadn't been listening.

If there was anyone I could talk to who would understand it was Nancy. She had gone through her own version of what was happening to me. Nancy used to describe herself as just a soccer mom before I even knew what that was. But Nancy had changed, she had confessed some of what had happened after she decided she wasn't happy with her life. She had gone from one extreme to another and then found a balance that worked for her. She had come through it somehow and was happier and much more satisfied with her sexuality. Brooke knew about me and how I felt, I guess I wasn't ready to make that leap just yet.

I knew I should level with her; I knew she would understand, but I couldn't.

As amazing as the sessions with Brooke were, and despite her telling me not to, the guilt I felt after each session was crushing and at the moment, I could barely keep myself together. Now I felt guilty for not telling Nancy, I was a mess and getting worse, especially since the fantasies I had been sharing with Brooke were getting more realistic and occupied more of my time with each passing day.

"Do you want me to come to see you?" Nancy's question startled me and was the first sentence I really heard and made me wonder what I had been saying when I realized I had been talking to Nancy for more than 30 minutes and had no idea what I had said or what she had said.

"No, Nancy, I will be okay, I'm just sorting some things out, but I appreciate you calling big sister."

"I don't think you heard a thing that I said, but I am worried about you and Brian, how is he handling all of this?"

"He has been great, better than me," I said, "Seeing Brooke was his idea, and I got a reference from one of his coworkers who was seeing her a few years ago and then now again," I paused, "She's a little unorthodox and she has only moved to town, I think she worked someplace in Texas before, Austin, I think."

Nancy kept talking and I thought about Brooke again, her perfume, her long legs, the nail polish she used, the curve of her neck, the way her chest moved when she was excited; and suddenly I realized I was getting wet and both my nipples were straining against the fabric of my bra and my breathing was getting a little ragged.

"What the fuck," I thought I said to myself when I realized I hadn't and Nancy was silent.

"Heather, are sure you are okay?"

I managed to pull myself together and managed to salvage the conversation without any more thoughts about Brooke. I'm sure Nancy hung up even more worried than when she called.

Later that night as Brian quietly slept, I thought about Brooke.

---

I had just taken a shower before coming to bed and wore just a towel into our bedroom, Brian had been asleep for about an hour and was snoring softly. I let the towel fall to the floor and I slipped between the sheets. I shaved everything in the shower and shivered a little because of how exciting the feel of the soft sheets was on my smooth skin. A million years ago I had done this for Brian, but that was a long time ago and now I did it for me.

I inhaled softly as hands and fingers explored my sexy bits and felt my body anticipating what was next. I closed my eyes and let my mind loose to explore my desires, I knew Brooke was married, but I suspected that that didn't stop her from exploring her own sexuality with either other men or women. My own experiences with her were proof enough of that and I felt myself shiver a little with those thoughts. What we had done so far was just a taste of where my imagination was going now.

In my eagerness, my fingers danced across my damp pussy and a small moan escaped unexpectedly; Brian stirred a little; I held my breath, waiting until his breathing returned to normal. Then my exploring resumed, the pleasure from my touch matching the desires playing in my imagination.

I felt my temperature rising, my breathing quickening, my back arching as my fingers danced in all the right places, the normal places and the naughty ones. I pictured Brooke in my mind, part of my brain remembering one of our discussions. She asked me if I liked it when Brian went down on me. She asked me to describe what he did in as much detail as I could. Normally I would have been more than a little embarrassed, this time though, I remembered wanting to share these intimate details with her. Brooke had told me answering this would help her understand some of my issues with Brian, but I didn't care, it turned me on to share with her, and because of the throbbing, I knew I would feel as I told her and maybe hopefully how it might make her feel.

My words flowed back into my mind, I began by blushing bright red and my voice faltered, I felt like a teenager who had been caught looking at porn but I did what she asked. As I talked I realized how much what Brian did to me was similar to how I wanted since we met to go down on Brooke. I no longer question my desire for Brooke, I only cared about ways to quench those desires.

I described how Brian would begin at my lips, softly kissing me and caressing my body with his fingers and hands. His touch was amazing and always sent shivers of electricity arcing through my body. Brian would kiss me seemingly forever, he never seemed to tire of it and he was so good at it.

Brian would almost imperceptibly move to my neck and shoulders, sometimes we would begin standing or sitting and he would touch, kiss, or nibble me using all of my body and all of my touch points, often making every part of my body seem like it was the most erogenous part of me. While his face, lips, tongue, and teeth were amazing, his hands and fingertips would take me to an entirely new level. Each time he started he would take a different path, each time felt like it was the first time, I felt the anticipation and it was balanced by a hunger to have him go faster to the finish line, he could draw going down on me from a simple as what seemed like a few minutes to making me beg because it seemed like days.

Now, while he was lying next to me sleeping, I was imagining myself in bed with Brooke, with Brooke devouring me. I could feel my body twisting and pushing itself harder against my fingers that were pushing deep inside myself as I thought about what I had told Brooke, the fact Brooke knew I fantasized about her and the commentary I had provided to Brooke, made it more and more difficult to stifle my moans and whimpers.

I felt lips on my nipples, a tongue, and teeth on one, fingers on the other, not rough and insensitive but soft, sensual, and persistent. Time ceased to mean anything to me, all that existed was my pleasure, part of me wanted to think that I wanted my partner to feel good too, but at these moments, the sensations, shivers, and writhing were all I was capable of, the past and future didn't exist, only this moment.

Subtly the finger grazing and circles made with them moved lower, I could never really tell when it happened, it just would, lips and tongue would kiss their way across my stomach and the fingers would stay ahead of them while my heartbeat raced.

Sometimes the caressing would move to my toes, the mouth performing fellatio on each one driving me crazier with each moment, enjoying the sensuality of what was happening but inwardly screaming to let me orgasm. My lover would not be rushed and would bring me to higher and higher peaks hanging and hanging seemingly forever, and then letting me plunge into a bottomless abyss in the next moment.

The line between my memories, commentary to Brooke, and fantasies blurred and crossed over, suddenly I was made to lie face down with my legs spread and was caressed, touched, licked, and bitten. Somehow I managed on stifling my screams, there was nothing Brian would do for me including rimming and eating my ass. Brian once told me, if I could imagine it, he would do anything to me for love.

Now in my solo sex or in the commentary to Brooke, eventually, no matter how, Brian would find my center, he was slow, passionate, and somehow frenzied all at the same time. With the same patience, he would draw me out, make my body respond, make me lose control over how I reacted, convulse, scream, twist, and almost always try to lock him in place with my thighs.

Brian had learned when I screamed, "Don't stop," I meant DON'T STOP, DON'T CHANGE ANYTHING, JUST KEEP DOING WHAT YOU ARE DOING until I orgasm. Everything stretched how I felt just to my breaking point, would hold me there, teetering, staring into the blackness, and then and only then, would he focus on my little clit, and that's when I would lose control.

Lying next to Brian, with my imagination only seeing and feeling Brooke, I could feel her lips and tongue on and in my pussy while her fingers toyed with my ass. I don't know how I did it, but somehow I managed to keep from screaming as I came and came. Brian slept, oblivious to the heat and passion next to him.

I thought back as I let the tremors rumble through me. I thought about the number of times Brooke had me tell her this story several times, asking me to describe the paths Brian took. Many times simply telling the story would make me orgasm in front of Brooke, fueling my embarrassment, but she would encourage me more to touch myself as I described what he did, more than once I could hear her own whimpers as she watched and listened to me. Knowing that only made it easier for me now as I lay naked, hot, and sweaty but very satisfied, for now, in bed next to my sleeping husband.

---

"You know you like women, don't you?" When Brooke said it, it wasn't so much of a question, as it was a statement.

I was shocked, "What are you saying Brooke, I've been married to Brian for twenty years."

"I didn't say you have always liked women, but I am saying that you like women now."

"I like men, and I love Brian," even as I vehemently disagreed with Brooke, I knew there was a crack in my own armor, especially since for weeks I had been telling her about my fantasies of women and letting myself kiss and touch her. I had told myself that I was just getting caught up in the moment, but when I really stopped to think about it, I knew I was just lying to myself I knew at some level I still hadn't fully embraced what my desires were and what my reality actually was.

"When was the last time you sucked Brian's cock?" Brooke asked suddenly, throwing me off-balance as I considered the costs of admitting I was becoming obsessed with women.