‘I don't want to do this.’

The reality was, he wanted nothing more.

'It's not what you claim to want or not to want, it's what we need to ascertain to our complete satisfaction. We need to test you.’

There was no flexibility in her assertion and she continued…

‘I need you to accept your sexuality, your wife needs to know where she stands with you. That is my primary remit. Unless you accept who you are, how can you move forward?’

‘But…’

‘No protests,’ she interrupted, ‘I know what's bothering you. You know you want to do this, but you are afraid of consequences. There are always consequences, of course. But we can mitigate them. I shall provide the man. You will not know him, he will not know you. Neither of you will be able to contact the other after and neither of you will ever meet again unless I choose it to happen. He will be the same as you. He is also my patient. Fortuitously both of you are at the same place. This will be his first time and he will be as shy and reluctant as you are. He will be, as you are, in denial. From our sessions so far, I am satisfied that both of you are submissive and I believe both of you are harbouring secret desires. I shall endeavour to ‘out’ you to each other. You must look on this positively as an empowering experience. I am hoping this will be an exhilarating release for you both and indeed, for your respective spouses.

She picked up the bag which had been lurking - obvious but  unremarked - on her desk.

‘In this bag are the clothes you will dress him in. He will have a similar bag. When you meet, you will both be dressed as you always dress. He is also married. Your wives will be with you. They will not interfere in any way. They will not know what is going to happen, they are a passive audience. They will be seated next to each other. Apart from not interfering or leaving, they will be free to do as they please. Don't worry, both have agreed to my terms.’

‘The first action is to be yours. You will undress him. He will passively allow it. Then he will return the favour. Throughout the process, any touching is completely voluntary and unrestricted. You will be allowed to touch yourself and the other. Whilst undressing and once naked. Touching is not mandatory but neither of you is allowed to refuse being touched by the other. I cannot say what will happen at this stage. Regardless, you will then dress him in the clothes I have provided. He will again reciprocate. What happens next is in the lap of the gods.’

She paused, staring at him enquiringly. He dropped his gaze.

‘Are we clear?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘Enough! Now, stand up, undress, there's one more thing we have to do today and then we can schedule the test.

He stood, naked, cock limp. She kissed him, a full lascivious kiss on his lips, her tongue was pushing into his mouth past his tight, reluctant, lips. His tongue was, reluctantly, responding. He felt his cock begin to stiffen and he fought to resist it. She remained out of its reach. She was fully dressed…a dark navy business suit, crisp white blouse, heels and what might be stockings or tights. He tried not to think about that.

She lightly touched an elegant pink-painted nail to his left nipple.

She could not have known it, but it was his sensitive nipple; it had a direct link to his cock. His battle to resist an erection was lost.

It had been at his wife's insistence that he had signed up for counselling. It was not called sex therapy, it came disguised under the title ‘Behavioural Counselling’ but he soon learned that it was effectively sex therapy.

He had not realised the nature of the agreement he had signed either. It was legally binding. Once he'd signed up, he had a seven day period to back out. His wife didn't tell him that. But to be fair, maybe she had not known either: she was also bound by it.

The reason for the counselling requirement was his own stupid fault. He'd made the rookie mistake of leaving his browser history for his wife to find. He could hardly deny that his history was suspect. She was convinced he was a closet gay. It was ironic that sex between them was a thing of history. But apparently her pride would not accept her husband preferring cock to her long unvisited pussy. She insisted, counselling or divorce. He knew she'd take him for every penny…so here he was, naked and being tested by this cold but sensual psychiatrist, therapist, counsellor or whatever she was. Sometimes, like now, he thought she was nothing other than a glorified sex worker.

She broke the kiss, continued to flick his stiff nipple and grasped his erect cock, thumbnail exploring under his foreskin, slippery with precum.

‘Imagine I'm a man doing this.’

'No, please…’

‘You want me to stop?’

‘No…’

'Then imagine.’

‘I don't want it.’

‘You don't want a man?’

‘No…a woman…’

‘Me?’

‘My wife.’

‘Are you sure? Don't you want a man holding your cock tightly like this?’ She squeezed his shaft, he thrust his hips.

‘No, I don't want a man jerking me off.’

'You'd rather do this yourself, to another cock?’ She stopped moving both hands.

‘Please don't stop.’

‘Then tell me what you want.’

‘What you were doing.’

‘Tell me what you have imagined doing with a cock.’

‘Nothing…I don't want a cock.’

'You've never thought about a cock? Your wife told me you read gay stories.’

‘Not gay…about sissies.’

She curled her fingers around his shaft…it had softened.

‘Well? Tell me about sissies.’

‘I read a story…about a husband who…experimented.’

‘Experimented?’ She scratched a nail across his sensitive nipple making him wince…she felt his cock twitch in her palm.

‘He was naked in the bathroom and took a pair of his wife's panties from the laundry basket…sniffed at the crotch…it excited him. He wrapped them around his cock and wanked…got excited and slipped them on.’

‘He put his wife's dirty knickers on?’ Now his cock had firmed up and she pulled it…she felt his hips begin to move in rhythm with her hand movement.

‘Yes, he enjoyed the feeling.’

‘You liked that story?’

‘It was…interesting.’

‘Did you masturbate?’

‘Yes, I played with myself while I read it.’

‘Have you tried on your wife's panties?’

‘No…of course not. I'm not gay.’

‘It wouldn't make you gay. Just curious. I think it turned you on.’

‘Yes…of course…that's why I played.’

‘You tried it too, didn't you.’

She tightened her grip on his cock…his thighs thrust harder, his cock stiff and the shaft and her hand wet with precum.

‘Mmm that feels good,’ he groaned.

‘Did the panties feel good?’

‘Yes…no…what panties?’

'Don't lie to me, you tried on your wife's knickers didn't you?’ She slackened her grip…slowed the motion of her hand…broke the rhythm of his thrusts.

‘Please no…don't stop…’

‘I won't if you tell me what you did.’

‘OK yes I will tell…I stripped naked in front of a mirror in the bedroom and tried on her underwear!’

‘Not just panties?’

‘No…’

‘What else?’

'Stockings, suspenders, a bra too.’

‘That’s better. Don't you feel better now you've told me?’

‘Yes…please don't stop.’

‘I need you to answer one more question…truthfully…OK?’

He nodded, like an enthusiastic puppy wags its tail. She knew a line had been crossed…a barrier overcome. This was a critical point. She stopped moving her hands completely but still held the firm shaft of his cock and pressed his nipple firmly with her finger to register presence without stimulation.

‘When you felt your cock in the panties, did you imagine it was someone else's cock? The man in the story perhaps? Did you wonder what it might be like to hold another man's cock in a pair of lady's knickers?’

He nodded, mutely.

‘I need to hear you say it.’

‘Yes,’ he murmured, his voice barely audible,’I wanted to feel a cock that was not my own…to be with a man who was dressed in lingerie.’

She smiled with satisfaction.

‘Well done. Now we can move on.’