“Whenever we find someone, we record it… and send it to the other,” she said calmly, her eyes locked on mine. “I was hoping you’d agree to be the first.”
My throat went dry. I couldn’t decide what was more unbelievable, her seriousness or that I was actually here. I froze. You’re probably wondering how I got here.
Just a few weeks ago, I was just a psychology graduate trying to figure out what to do next.
……………………………
I just finished my master’s degree in psychology. I was unsure about doing a PhD, so I decided to start a small private practice instead.
I rented an office to see my patients, but I agreed to meet them somewhere of their choice, to attract and retain clients. Most used my office, but a few preferred coffee shops or parks.
One month after I opened, a woman named Abena called and asked for a last-minute meeting that day. I agreed because my job is mainly listening, and I liked her voice. She said she wanted to go to the rooftop of my building because heights help her think clearly.
At 4 p.m., as Abena said, I grabbed a notepad and my tab and went up the stairs to the rooftop. It only took three seconds to realize my patient wasn’t Abena.
A hot sophisticated woman was standing across me. It was Cynthia Adebowale, a successful businesswoman I’d seen in magazines. We both lived in Ikoyi, but she wasn’t the type you just run into casually.
“Good afternoon,” I said with a friendly smile, pretending I didn’t know her real name.
“Hi,” Cynthia said as she came over to shake my hand. “Thanks for fitting me in last minute,” she said with a friendly smile, a little shy. She didn’t seem bossy or cold like I expected.
“Sure,” I said as we walked over to the bucket couch set that was stationed on the rooftop. “I’m just starting out, so I take any appointment I can get,” I explained.
“I see”, Cynthia said with a nod. “You look young,” she added, taking a good look at me from my head to toe.
“Well, I am,” I replied. “I rounded off my master’s a few months ago. I’m exploring options without getting a PhD. Maybe I’m wasting time, but not everything is learned from books”.
She smiled warmly and said, “Congratulations! Let me see if I can help you get started without making you work another tough few years.” I was really starting to like her.
“We’re here for you, though,” I said, turning on my tab to steer us back on track.
“Yes, about me,” Cynthia said, gulping. “It’s hard to talk about, but your calm demeanour helps me feel more comfortable,” she added.
I told her, “Take your time. It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Problem is, I travel a lot and don’t get to see my husband much because he’s busy too.” Cynthia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s hard for us to stay close.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“I love my husband, but we hardly ever have sex anymore. I want to, but things never seem to work out. We’re always tired or stressed, and we’ve forgotten what we even like. It feels confusing trying to figure it out.”
I get it. I waited for her to say more, but she just sat there, staring at her shoes. It seemed like she didn’t want me to see the real her. I felt like no one else knew she was even here. I said, “Abena, what do you want? Not as a couple, not with him, just for yourself. What do you want?”
She sighed and looked at me. “That’s a good question,” she said, holding my gaze. “I love my husband deeply, but I also need physical affection from him.”
“We all need love, not just words or gifts, but real physical intimacy. Nothing makes us feel more loved and wanted than good sex. Sorry if I said too much.”
” No, you’re right,” she said. “Should I talk to him about this?”
“If we were in a relationship, hypothetically speaking, of course, I’d want to know how you feel and that you trust me enough to talk about it, Abena.” I got the sense she knew I understood who she really was. Cynthia Adebowale was an unforgettable woman, even just from pictures and interviews.
****
A few weeks later, someone knocked on my office door.
“Hello?” I said as I opened the door, but suddenly, I felt a chill down my spine.
“Won’t you invite me in, Doctor?” Cynthia asked, standing at my door in a sexy black dress with a slit up her thigh. Her flirtatious look caught me off guard and made my mouth water.
I stepped aside and let her in. She shut and locked the door behind her. I saw she had a laptop.
“Um, Abena?” I asked, still pretending not to know who she was.
She said sharply, “It’s part of our meeting, and you know that’s not my name,” as she put the laptop down in my office.
“I know who you are, Cynthia,” I said. “We didn’t schedule another session.” But I wasn’t going to send her away.
She whispered close, “Should I go?” while fidgeting with my shirt buttons.
“No, I don’t. I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I said out of breath. “How are you and your husband?” I immediately regretted asking.
Cynthia smiled and kissed my cheek, and I could still feel her lips after she moved away. “You’re sweet. He’s part of why I’m here. I talked to him like you said.”
“And?” I asked as she moved away and set up her laptop. I wondered if her husband was about to yell at me through a video call.
“We talked, and he feels the same way I do. We both know we love each other and have grown apart due to work and other things. But we still want to make it work.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking I understood, but I also saw that while talking to me, she turned on her webcam.
“We’ve decided that it’s best for us to have an open sexual relationship. We can be with anyone we choose, but there’s a condition.”
I said, “Go on,” crossing my arms.
She said, returning to me with the recording light on, “When we find someone, we record it and send it to the other person. I was hoping you’d be the first to agree. We need to get your permission on video, too, for everyone’s safety.” She’s smart.
I froze, not ready for any of this. I didn’t expect Cynthia Adebowale to suggest we have sex as part of a marriage experiment. She leaned in and kissed me softly. She was tall, and I had a pretty good height too, about an inch taller than her.
“I’m sure about this, and he’s okay with it, too. He sent me a video, so I think I should send him one back. You can keep it, but I hope you keep it private. It’s like watching something intimate with someone you love when you’re lonely. It doesn’t hurt me to see my husband with another woman; it actually makes me smile. If it were someone we knew, I think it would hurt more. It doesn’t bother me because he sends it directly to me and is open about it. It’s not a secret, it’s honesty.”
“Open relationships aren’t as rare as you think. I believe it’s okay if your loved one finds happiness and shares it with others. It’s nice that you’re willing to share, reconnect, and reignite your passion.” I paused. “Moreso, I have to keep this private because of patient confidentiality. If this video gets out, I could lose my license and face serious trouble. Plus, I wouldn’t want to get you upset,” I joked.
Cynthia kissed me again and lightly nibbled my bottom lip. She asked, “Wouldn’t you rather fuck me and have this video to watch anytime?” She kissed down my chin and licked my neck with her tongue. “And thanks for saying what you did. I don’t think you said it just to please me.”
“I’d rather fuck you if I’m being honest. I wasn’t just joking when I said that. I lifted her chin and gently kissed her.” We decided to take it slow because we wanted to make it special, especially since we were being recorded and there would be an audience. Part of me hoped Cynthia would keep the video just for herself.
As we kissed, I felt Cynthia begin to unbutton my shirt. When she finished, she took it off.
Cynthia kissed her way from my neck to my collarbone, then down to my chest, her hands moving along my stomach. She was the first woman to lick and tease my nipples like that. But her nails near my waistband and her gentle kisses down my body showed she had her own plans before I could do anything to her.
Her hands were on my thighs, with her thumbs near my zipper. I didn’t need a belt because my pants fit well. Cynthia asked from her knees, her bright eyes looking up at me, “Can I?”
I nodded and took a deep breath as Cynthia unbuttoned my shirt and slowly unzipped my pants. She said, “I’ve been thinking about this the whole ride here.” She was touching me through my underwear, with my pants open but not pulled down. “I can’t wait for my husband to see this. I love the idea of him getting turned on and jerking himself off, watching a stranger fuck me.”
My hands were in her hair as she kissed my dick. “You’re so hard,” she whispered. She kissed the tip of my dick and then wrapped her lips around it, over my clothes.
She looked at me again, licking her lips, and slowly pulled my briefs down to my ankles. “Well, hello there,” she said, that made my dick twitch. She smiled, and it twitched again. “I love how it responds,” she said, then blew cold air from my groin up to the tip, making my whole body shiver.
“Fuck, Cynthia, stop playing with me,” I said, jokingly but was a bit serious.
“Good. I don’t want things rushed. I’m paying for the whole hour, right?” she asked, looking at me with a curious smile. “I guess I’m paying you for your help in a few different ways,” I replied.
I jokingly said, “I started this business to pay off student loans, but I never thought I’d have to sell myself too.” As soon as I said it, I felt the mood shift. Maybe I should have kept quiet instead.
Cynthia paused and looked at me. “If you’re not okay with this, I won’t force you. I thought you’d enjoy it, and I wanted to thank you…”
For a moment, her eyes lingered on mine, and an unspoken tension filled the room. I could see the hesitation flicker behind her gaze, like she was weighing whether to proceed or pull back.
Written by Sixtie9ine
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