Marriage Canceller

Georgia Jones sat on the office couch scowling, one heel rapping the floor in steady irritation. She told Natasha the counselor that her husband was ten minutes late—again. Natasha glanced at the clock and suggested they could start without him if she didn’t want to lose the hour. Georgia huffed, asked how much marriage counseling could actually get done without her husband. Natasha insisted plenty could be accomplished, and after another short hesitation Georgia agreed, unwilling to let the prepaid hour simply vanish. Natasha asked what a typical day looked like. Georgia laid out her routine: breakfast, work, evening silence, then drifting to opposite edges of the bed. Natasha noted the one detail missing. Georgia stiffened. Sex never made it into the day’s rundown. When pressed, she admitted her husband cut straight to the point; no teasing, no turn-taking, always his pleasure first. She never felt heard or tended to. Natasha wanted to know whether Georgia had ever voiced these needs aloud. Embarrassed, Georgia said no—her upbringing taught her to keep quiet. To practice speaking plainly, Natasha proposed roleplay: she would stand in for the husband. Georgia balked at practicing with the counselor, but Natasha promised it was safer to rehearse here than face resistance at home. Reluctantly, Georgia agreed. They began. Natasha-as-husband noted Georgia seemed less interested in sex lately. Georgia mumbled, cheeks burning, that her own desires never felt addressed. Natasha asked which desires. Georgia took a breath, then said she was expected to give oral but never received it, that it made her feel used. Natasha-as-husband offered, “Want me to eat you out?” Georgia whispered that she had never felt able to ask. Without warning Natasha slipped from her chair, dropped to her knees, and spread Georgia’s thighs. Georgia yanked her hands away, demanding to know what was happening. Natasha looked up and explained that words only gained power when Georgia saw the result they could command. She promised the demonstration would stay brief and professional. Georgia hesitated, then gave the smallest nod. Natasha drew the panties aside and pressed her mouth to Georgia’s cunt, licking with slow, thorough strokes until Georgia’s legs trembled and a sharp climax pulsed through her. Breath ragged, Georgia hauled Natasha up by the arms and kissed her hard, cupping the heavy swell of Natasha’s breasts while they moaned into each other’s mouths. Georgia’s lips closed around one flushed nipple, fingers sliding between Natasha’s thighs, the session slipping rapidly from advice into heat.