The Anatomy of an Affair

The Anatomy of an Affair

"Oh Em I really want you to fuck me now."

It was said with such passionate pleading, the latent sexual tension of
all those years pouring out.

She stood up slowly and deliberately turned her back but all the while
looking over her shoulder at me, with such a smouldering look, there
was something pure but primitive about it. And those eyes, those eyes
that had enticed me so many times over the years. I'd heard them
described as hazel, there were bluey-green and grey-brown bits, but the
most startling feature were the amber flecks. Those mesmerising eyes
genuinely sparkled, even the dullest of person could see fire burning
behind them. It burned now.

She leaned slightly forward from the waist and rested her hands on the
back of the chair so that her bum stuck out towards me. Then, eyes
still on me, she reached behind her with one hand and hitched her skirt
above her waist to reveal the most perfect, smooth and symmetrical bum,
framed by a lacy green g-string.

We all like to think we are super sex athletes but this session was
something else. It must have been all the pent up lust, may be even
love - who knows - being released after all those years. The surprise
at finding that it was, after all, requited. Whatever, this was truly
sex from another planet. I didn't recognise my own performance, no
recovery period, vocabulary I never use, sensations I'd never
experienced, at one point I felt as if my eyes were rolling back in my
head and I thought I was going to pass out. I did notice that she was
very tactile, she touched me a lot, stroking my nipples, pulling on my
buttocks, but also she touched herself a lot - her superb breasts, her
pubes and clit, she'd squeeze her own buttocks, stroke the insides of
her own thighs. And throughout she made deep, gruff growly sounds, more
than moans, which I'd never heard before and so deep and animal were
they that I couldn't recognise her voice. I frequently felt that I was
floating and watching it all like some out of body experience. At times
I was so ecstatic I felt almost nauseous. The session seemed to never
end and in reality lasted well over two hours. By the finish we were
both covered in warm salty and slightly thick sweat, scratches and
little bites. Clothes, bedclothes, towels lay dishevelled all around. A
few ornaments and bits of furniture lay askew or knocked over. It
wasn't so much that we fell asleep exhausted, it was more that we
exhausted ourselves to sleep, we were totally spent. At some point, may
be after two or three hours, I woke, dehydrated. May be I disturbed
Rachel, I don't know, but I was surprised to hear her sobbing softly,
with such a strange mixture of guilt and relief, it was almost as if
she was grieving.

-***-

My job made unbelievable demands on my time and therefore my energies.
It wasn't that I was overly ambitious, it was just that there was
always so much to be done. I'd go flat out like the clappers to try to
get to the end of things, but it seemed like that there was some little
devil watching and every time I started to make in-roads into the
backlog, he'd shovel some more on to the pile. So it was never ending.
On top of that my company and our industry was struggling, so we had to
work doubly hard if we wanted to survive. Everyone thinks they work
hard and long hours but my circumstances really took some beating. I'd
literally run from one appointment to the next. As the years went by I
realised that instead of being at my desk at 8 in the morning, it had
now become 7:30. Gradually that became 7 and at the time I'm talking
about, I was often getting in even before 7.

I had to drive around the country a good deal and so caught a lot of
news on the radio. It staggered me how people like cabinet ministers
and national team coaches managed to have affairs, often they'd turned
out to be long running affairs too, not one-nighters or brief flings. I
accept that I'm a pretty middle of the road guy, pretty typical of the
man in the street. And despite the jaundiced view we all hold of such
people, I was prepared to accept that most of these public figures had
even more demanding jobs than me. I couldn't see how they could fit an
affair into their lives. I wouldn't have the time in my schedule and
theirs must be far more hectic. I could just about imagine a quick
fling but a pretty serious long term thing - no way. In addition my
working life was reasonably unpredictable, I'd travel a fair bit at
home and abroad but I'd often not know more than a couple of days in
advance where I'd be nor for how long. So I'd have to have a very
accommodating mistress with an infinitely flexible diary. So again, I
used to wonder, these national figures in important places, how did
they do it? The demands on their time must be considerably more erratic
than my own. How did their mistresses put up with it? I used to be
intrigued as to how they even managed to keep in touch with them to let
them know what was happening. I had this vision of the lonely mistress,
stood up again but understanding, getting slowly sloshed in some
tedious hotel room somewhere.

You've got to understand that when I had these thoughts, well certainly
when I had them initially, I didn't have any particular inclination to
dabble myself, I was just fascinated at how they managed it. It
probably sounds a bit wet, but it really was the time management aspect
that I couldn't figure out. I've got to admit though, where emotional
things were concerned I wasn't the best person to judge acts of
spontaneity. I had a highly planned style to my business life and it
stood me in such good stead that it did encroach into my private life
too. I had quite a big team working for me and there was one bright
young lad in particular who showed a lot of potential. The thing was he
had some sort of immaturity or insecurity, I don't know why but he
needed to be frequently told that he was doing well. On my wall planner
every three weeks or so there was an entry that read "stroked". It
actually meant stoke Ed, Ed was the young lad's name, so what it did
was nudge me to pay him some compliment. He thrived on it and I doubt
whether he or anyone else in the team ever sussed how calculating it
was.

But that's the way I got things done: observe, analyse, plan, do. The
results certainly got me respected inside and outside of work.

So now you can see what fascinated me whenever a prominent public
figure was found to have been up to long term peccadilloes. I can't
remember ever being critical of any moral aspect of such behaviour. I
actually used to talk to my wife about this - the theme always was,
from a practical point of view how did these guys manage to organise it
all let alone keep it secret for so long.

Somewhere along the line I started to think about having a fling or two
myself. Over time some of my wife's looks were beginning to fade and
although she still never said no and we remained fairly frequent and
adventurous participants, her interest in sex had become a bit more
mechanical. Our marriage was by no means disastrous, it was just rather
stale. Our relationship was reasonable but there wasn't any spark there
and no real love. Having said that we'd always been loyal to each other
and I don't just mean sexually, so it was a partnership that worked
after a fashion. Loyalty was a big thing with me, so even vague
thoughts of infidelity shouldn't be dismissed as trivial. At the same
time I started to desire the excitement of an affair, my life was
hectic but reasonably mundane for all that. Certainly I'd expected to
have had many partners by now and didn't like the idea that I'd go
through the rest of my life without sleeping with any new woman ever
again. I longed for the excitement and intimacy of seeing and feeling a
woman's naked body, other than my wife's. It just seemed like so many
missed opportunities, such misguided ideals. Overall I was a bit bored
and in a rut and I heard that an affair could be invigorating. However
much I'd like to deny it, I think that subconsciously I was aware that
my life was speeding by, the milestones like our 15th wedding
anniversary whizzed by and others, like my 40th birthday, approached at
an alarming pace. I was plagued by an undertow of resentment, I'd not
done anything like the things I'd once wanted to do, I hadn't been to
anything like the number of places I'd wanted to go, was I actually
positively happy or just reasonably content and safe - was I scared to
take some risks, or just lazy to try something new, and overall could I
honestly say that my life had moved on from 5, 6, 7 years ago?
Initially I hadn't planned in doing anything, these thoughts just
milled around my head but gradually the mild discontent developed into
a mild desire which grew stronger and stronger.

I'd find myself occasionally day dreaming about rampant sex with
stunning nubiles, but would soon shake myself out of it by remembering
how my life style consisted entirely of work and travelling to or from
work, that was all. There was simply no opportunity to meet anyone, let
alone have the time to seduce them. But I was encouraged by the way
that other people seemed to fall into these things by chance, the "I
never meant it to happen" syndrome. Well I did want it to happen, so
come on! We had a guy in our office called Bob. A nice enough guy, down
to earth and straight down the line. Moderately intelligent, no more.
He always seemed to me to rather lack imagination and a sense of
humour. But as I say, a likeable, terribly ordinary bloke. And hard
working too. We had a series of projects up North and for as long as I
could remember he'd travel up once or twice a week, staying over one,
two or even three nights at a time. He had a wife but I never met her
and never really knew much about her. Out of the blue one day he
announces he was getting re-married and wanted to be relocated up
North. Seemingly he'd fallen for the manageress at one of the hotels he
frequented. We had a drink before he left. I was so curious that
although we weren't that familiar, I had to ask him how it
happened.

"Who knows Em. I wasn't looking for it." Ah-hah!

"I hardly noticed Jane at first, then occasionally we'd chat. Once or
twice we shared a night cap or coffee at the bar. But who knows how
these things happen, polite conversation led to interest, interest
turned to little acts of kindness, kindness grew into friendship, and
friendship sort of flows over - it happens by degrees and suddenly you
realise, hey, I'd like to spend my life with this person." Romance and
poetry from staid old Bob!

He laughed self-consciously and quickly changed the subject. On my
travels I hardly ever spoke to anyone let alone striking up a
friendship. I tend to be reserved with strangers and for that reason I
think I'm the sort of person people don't remember meeting. Well, well,
well, good old Bob, good luck to you mate. What did he have? He was
short and a bit on the scruffy side and no oil painting. I'd been led
to believe that I was reasonably good looking, I'd been told on several
occasions that I looked like a young Tom Jones for example! When my
eldest daughter came in to work once when she was 16 or 17, our
receptionist thought she was my younger sister. I'd also once overheard
the tail-end of a conversation between two secretaries:..
"..crickey, I thought you were joking when you said that was Emyr
Chanson, he's good-looking isn't he and so young for someone so high
up, Carol says&;#8230;"
But despite this, the ladies weren't falling over themselves to
befriend me, in fact I can't remember when a female last showed even
the slightest sexual interest in me. May be there had been no chances
for me but I suspect I had missed out on a few - surely? It's funny but
in my work I'm very sensitive to what people are thinking and feeling,
but presumably I'm just not tuned in romantically - I hope that's the
explanation as the alternative ones are unpalatable! Actually, now that
I think about it there was one incident some years ago. I had noticed
it myself and it also became the subject of some fun among my
department. We had a pretty good looking temporary secretary in for
about three or four weeks once. Every time I left my desk to go over to
the drinks area or the little area where we had our fax, photocopier
and printer, I'd find this lady at my elbow, she'd make as if to busy
herself with something near-by but it became pretty obvious she was
following me around. She kept finding excuses to come into my office
and linger with numerous trivial queries. I was quite flattered. But
sadly, as I rack my brains, this was a unique incident. More
disappointingly now that I look back, I had no inclination at the time
to respond to her attentions.

When I thought about it after I left Bob, I saw that the fact that I
tended to avoid casual relationships would make it difficult to have
the fling I had started to want quite badly. Even in my younger days
before wifey, I wasn't the outward going gregarious type and the girls
that were attracted to me tended to be the ones that somehow or other
already knew me quite well as an acquaintance first. I made a
relatively small number of strong long term friendships which I could
also see becoming a problem when what I sought now was a superficial,
no strings attached, recreational sex filled foray! It worried me, I
realised I'd have to have my antenna up for any half opportunities and
to be prepared to change my natural approach if I was to be successful.
And I had to be a bit more self confident and prepared to make the most
of whatever advantages I may I have. From now on I'd be extra alert to
any female attention whatsoever.

I now started to make plans on the basis that sooner or later it would
inevitably happen for me. There was a lot of my life that may not be
wildly exciting but at least I felt reasonably comfortable and safe
with it. So I decided I wasn't looking for something earth shattering
that would change my life forever, I just wanted some excitement to
spice it up. Nobody needed to get hurt, nobody needed to find out about
the guilty secret: that being the case, where was the harm? I believed
that people who were found out, almost certainly wanted to be. I
remember one of the lad's in school, his mum had found his dad in bed
with one of the other lads' mum. I just can't see how that sort of
thing can happen by accident. Much later in life I met one of my mates
just after Christmas for a drink. He said the festivities had been a
disaster. It hadn't started well when his dad, a pillar of the
community, announced that he'd been having an affair for 17 years and
he was off for Christmas and then a new life with his mistress. So I
think if both parties want to, you can keep these things a secret
indefinitely. I certainly didn't have the slightest qualms about the
deceitful aspects of what I was planning on undertaking.

So I had the resolve and a plan of sorts but it still took nearly a
couple of years for the opportunity to come along and when it did, as I
expected, it happened unexpectedly. And when it did start happening,
despite being, in theory, prepared and eager, I was so unsure if I was
reading the signals right and even when it was pretty clear that she
was just as willing as me to go all the way, I didn't know how to push
over the boundary of declared physical attraction in to the arena of
sexual intimacy. That's why she finally took matters into her own hands
and leaned forward so provocatively and urged me so
unequivocally:
"Oh Em I really want you to fuck me now."

- * * * -

I'd been working at the time at a big manufacturing company for many
years. I was based at the head office site where a number of separate
buildings were scattered around the perimeter of a large yard and car
park. I was crossing the car park one day when I saw an old friend
called Rachel heading towards me. We went back a long way and it had
just been announced that she was getting a nice promotion and
relocation overseas. I was hoping to bump into her so I could
congratulate her.

"Hi, hear you've made the big time! Well done, well done."

"Thanks Em. I was hoping to see you, I owe you a lot." I totally
ignored this opening and pressed on innocently.

"It's New Zealand is it? When d'you go?"

"Well, I've got this New Horizons bit to finish then I'm off - should
be within three months. I.."

"Good for you Rach" I interrupted her, and out of habit checked my
watch rather impolitely.

"Thanks, thanks, look Em, I'd really like to thank you properly, it's
all down to you you know. I'd like to buy you dinner before I
go."

"Yeah, great, give me a bell." I said as I started to set off in the
opposite direction to her. She followed me back a couple of
paces.

"Let's make it soon, how about Friday?"

"Have to check my diary, call me, see ya!"

I carried on and didn't think anything more about it until she rang the
next day and we set up a date. But do you see how oblivious I was - she
was quite definite about dinner, not lunch, not a quick drink, which
were the usual office protocols. And in retrospect I could see that
quite clearly this was more than a polite invitation. But I was
blissfully unaware of the subplot as I worked through the next couple
of days, indeed I assumed the dinner would be for a select few
colleagues. In fact as I would have to come back from up North, I'd
toyed with the idea of giving it a miss, after all we hadn't worked
together for some time, so I was a little surprised to have been
included in Rachel's cognoscenti at all.

Friday came and my meeting up North overran. Added to that Rachel had
chosen a restaurant I didn't know, in fact I'd only vaguely heard of
it, quite swanky and a little more out the way than the places most of
us usually used. I made good progress on the motorway but was clearly
going to be late so I phoned through.

"Don't worry pet, get there when you can." Missed the familiarity of
her tone and the &;#8230;."pet".

"You okay? You sound ..er, sort of, dunno"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm at home, took the afternoon off to make myself
beautiful!" Just a throw away statement, didn't mean anything, I didn't
notice it, Rachel was always bright and breezy like that, that was just
her way of speaking. Meant nothing.

"Okay, see you later then."

In the times to come I became much more adept at reading the signals.
And I also became much braver about taking a chance and risking the
humiliation of rejection and reaped the rewards. In fact a little while
ago, long after Rachel had gone to New Zealand, I was in the gym one
afternoon. There was only one other person there, a really cute girl.
It seemed to me she kept leaning forward more than was necessary and
showing off an impressive cleavage. She also made more eye contact than
could have been accidental. We'd both worked up a fair sweat and by now
we were smiling pretty frankly at each other. I quit first, only to
find her following me out rather quickly. Okay, here goes nothing I
thought. But she took up my offer of a cool drink and said she knew a
place just round the corner that did great water. It transpired that
she meant her flat. We spent a fabulous hour rolling around the floor,
turned on by the sweat and odour I guess. Then she got up and said she
had to have a quick shower and then pick up the kids from school. It
turned out she was looking after the flat whilst a friend was on
holiday. She got up, gave me a soft and sensual kiss, pinched my bum,
cheerily sang
"That was great, thanks, just what I needed!"
As she waved and made her way to the shower. Smashing. I only ever saw
her once since. It was Saturday morning at the shops. She was with her
kids and some bloke, looked like her husband, she glanced sideways to
check that no-one would notice, then smiled broadly and gave me such a
conspiratorial wink. I felt like I was walking on air, this was what it
should be like, sexy secrets and no-one gets hurt.

Mind you it wasn't a question of non-stop success. I never quite
overcame my awkwardness and some of the approaches I made were
laughingly clumsy but at least I overcame my fear of looking silly,
inevitably though rejection would always leave me feeling silly, and I
managed to ignore the few lingering qualms I had about infidelity and
learnt that it was possible to just about eliminate the chance of
discovery. A few months ago I was staying at a hotel overnight. It was
deathly quiet. I'd noticed a smart, young middle-aged lady in the bar
before dinner, reading the Times. I also noticed her eating alone at
dinner, we exchanged a couple of polite smiles, nothing more, but I
started to get carried away. I then spotted her again in the near empty
bar. She was on her own but had a few papers strewn about and was
obviously clearing some paperwork like I'd sadly done so many times
myself in similar situations - another boring night in another boring
hotel with the choice between mind numbing telly or mind numbing
paperwork. We again smiled at each other which was the final
encouragement I needed, so I sidled up and asked:-

"Hi, do you fancy some company." Ugh!

She paused, looked up, in my imagination we were already stripping each
other off in the bedroom.

"That's very flattering." Pause. "But would you mind pissing off and
leaving me alone, thanks awfully."!

But back to Rachel's dinner.

I really was going to be quite late, so planned on making a quick
appearance, joining them at the table for a quick glass of wine, then I
could leave them all to it. To make up for it I stopped at the next
service station and bought some service station flowers ie overpriced
and wilting.

When I reached the restaurant two things struck me. It was swanky and
it also had accommodation. When I saw Rachel another two things stood
out. Firstly she was alone, and, still not getting on the same wave
length, I immediately assumed that disastrously everyone else must have
pulled out or not been able to find the place. Secondly I knew she'd
been drinking, she wasn't even tipsy but from old I knew she got quite
flushed after a couple of drinks.

I was a little taken aback as it became obvious that I was the only
person that Rachel had invited. But after that we both had one of the
nicest evenings imaginable. The food was truly excellent. The service
was spot on. The ambiance was great. Our conversation just flowed with
lots of relaxed humour. I realised what an engaging companion Rachel
had blossomed into and became aware of the subtle beauty she possessed.
Normally after a long trip, I'm anxious to hit the shower and get to
bed even though I'm usually too tense to sleep well. I didn't notice it
but from the off I was completely unwound and didn't notice the time
until we suddenly became aware that we were the last diners. All in all
it was just a thoroughly enjoyable evening. It was so nice to have a
totally relaxed chat about nothing for hours without there being any
edge to the conversation, no political minefields to avoid and so
on.

"Well Rach, this has been absolutely superb, many thanks."

Little did I know that the tone of the evening was just about to change
dramatically.

"Yeah, it's been great, something I'd wanted to do for ages."

Now I was suddenly super sensitive to the slight tension behind her
words. I didn't know how to respond so I sat there quietly. She sat and
looked right into my eyes, it was actually quite a cold stare, and her
eyes, those magical eyes genuinely flashed at me, it was really like
she looked right into my heart and soul and in that fraction of a
second, those eyes gave everything away. Some glint behind her eyes
told me she knew I'd finally made the connection. But still she sat and
stared at me, with a cool smile, almost a smirk on her face. She gently
stroked the little triangular recess at the base of her throat.

"I, er, I&;#8230;" I began, but had no idea how to continue.

"I've got a room." She said in a husky voice that I barely
recognised.

I was dumbfounded for some seconds but then recovered to mumble
something inane like:

"Rach, this is so unexpected. I, er, I. I never knew, I, um.
Christ."

"Em, I've got to tell you and we haven't much time before we're a world
apart and when that happens we'll never be able to do anything about
it. Listen love, I owe you so much, no listen sweetheart-lover. You
helped me, you inspired me. You changed my life you know. It's so much
better than it would have been if I hadn't met you. No, no, love let me
say this, I've got to say it all now. It's not just gratitude, I know
what you'd say, I've seen you coach so many others at work. You're just
a nice guy, I know that I wasn't special, I know helping people, well
helping them fulfil their potential is what you do, you think it's part
of your job, but that doesn't stop me feeling grateful. None of the
other managers put themselves out in that way like you. But listen,
it's not just gratitude. I just admire you as a person so much. You're
a kind thoughtful man. Look at tonight. You let me know that you'll be
late and you bring me flowers. Honest Em, that's so you, I nearly
cried." She paused for a bit, I struggled desperately to say something,
anything, but she continued.

"And look. Ever since I was a young girl of 18," another slight pause,
and then in a rush, showing that broad ladette streak that I'd always
found so amusing and appealing - "I've been getting hot and wet for
you. I've always fancied you like mad."

She sat back and kind of puffed out her cheeks, but she hadn't quite
finished. It was back to those cold husky, almost threatening
tones.

"Take me to bed hun and screw the arse of me."

Long pause. I drank some water. I looked around. I stroked the back of
my neck. I drank some more water. All the time she sat opposite me,
leaning forward and smouldering.

"Rachel."

"Oh, we're getting formal now are we. What happened to Rach?" This was
said playfully.

"Rach, you've got to understand this is totally, TOTALLY unexpected.
I'm flattered, I'm staggered. I just don't know what to say."

She was like a hungry animal on the attack now, but with a playful
lasciviousness

"You don't need to say anything, it's not talking I'm after"

"Rach, I'd love to, Christ, if only you knew. But, look I never
expected this, I'm not prepared."

"I'm sure there's a machine in the boys room," teasingly.

"No, no, I don't mean THAT. I mean, well, er sorry to sound so
middle-aged but I'm expected at home and all that&;#8230;"

"There's always time for a quickie."

"Hm, this is so hard" - totally unintentional Freudian slip, met with
such an arched eyebrow and a slight licking of her bottom lip.

"I mean, not that," I really was totally flustered, but she was playing
with me, she was leaning forward staring into my eyes challengingly,
enjoying watching me squirm.

"I mean, I'd want to stay all night. I don't want a quickie, when we
get together, I want it to be perfect, an all night sesh."

She laughed in a really saucy way but let me off the hook.

We went outside and talked for a long time. Rachel had always been
quite pretty in a plain sort of way and of course she had those
spectacular eyes but from that night I literally saw her in a different
light. I saw stunning beauty and couldn't understand how I'd never been
aware of it before. I suddenly noticed her perfect complexion, her
wonderful cheek bones, her lustrous hair, the pert nose, and how had I
ever missed those full pouty, infinitely kissable lips. Her
imperfections somehow added to her beauty. Her ears were just a tiny
bit too big and slightly sticking out, her front two teeth were also
slightly too large and protruded just a fraction, but this all added to
the overall effect - the whole truly was greater than the sum of the
parts. I remember Michelle Pfiffer once saying she struggled to get
good roles because her features were just too symmetrical which made
her look artificial. This theory seems to ring true - think of Cindy
Crawford's mole, or look at Julia Roberts' - lips, teeth, ears all too
big but put them together and you have something very sexy. Isn't it
funny how that happens? When you take up with someone new, suddenly
they become more glamorous than they'd ever been previously. I suppose
the opposite is also often true. Some time after you've broken up badly
with someone, or may be some time after you've abandoned the chase,
after you've got over the hurt haven't you said to yourself, and really
meant it, "whatever did I see in him/her".

Any way it was that night that we sketched out how we were going to
have an affair over the next several weeks until she went away. It may
seem a bit clinical but we were determined to make the most of the
limited time we had. So we worked out how often we could meet and how
much notice we'd have to give each other if an unexpected opportunity
arose. There were definitely some nights that we could spend together
because Rachel was on a special project which involved a roadshow going
round the UK and throughout Europe. My responsibilities meant that I
had to go around those same territories. I noted down some of the
likely dates and venues where I could probably get our itineries to
co-incide. And we both understood that when she went to New Zealand,
that'd be it. No plans, promises or expectations. In fact we agreed it
would be best not to even keep in touch. This may all sound a bit
morbid but we actually thought it was a fabulous chance to be really
carefree, knowing that there couldn't be any strings attached and there
wasn't enough time for complications to develop and spoil it all. There
was no "action" that night as Rach put it but like a couple of eager
teenagers there was plenty of snogging and some heavy petting. We
arranged to spend Thursday night together. As Rach said, that should
give me enough time to arrange my diary and come up with an alibi for
wifey. In her case Tim was going to be away for a couple of days, so we
had plenty of time to do "lots of things".

Tim was another story. He'd been a trainee with me once. Shortly after
he moved on, my department was having a booze up for some reason which
I now forget. We invited Tim along. Rachel was new to our team and she
joined us too. I actually introduced the pair of them to each other
that night. From what I recall they didn't get together straight away
and I think they always had an on-off relationship. She'd move in with
him and then move out again. I didn't really follow the saga closely
but we all knew about it when they were on the verge of getting married
but then had some row and split up. When they eventually got back
together again some six months on, matrimony was permanently off their
agenda. I pretty much lost track of things altogether after that. Tim
was a nice guy but I never thought they were well suited. Once when we
were in the middle of our fling, I asked Rachel if she thought Tim knew
what was going on. She said she wasn't sure but that he'd thought we'd
had an affair years ago. Apparently he'd once told her that she quoted
me too much. He said that having been mentored by me briefly himself,
he could understand my influence but, he said, there was some softness
in her tone when she spoke of me that hinted at something more than
intellectual respect. I laughed when she told me this but she said that
the only person she confided in about us was her sister and she'd said
something similar. I had met her sister once, startling eyes must run
in the family as hers flashed and scared me. Yet they were quite
different to Rachel's. Rachel sister appeared to have exceptionally
dark eyes but when you got up close you found they iris were actually a
very pale and cold blue, I think the effect was created because she had
very thick and long and absolutely jet black eye lashes, top and
bottom, and this is what caused the confusing impression that her eyes
were very dark. The overall effect was exotic and quite unforgettable.
Rachel said that she wasn't sure if her sister would even remember who
I was, but instead she'd been very blas? about it and said " Well you
always fancied the bollocks off him, didn't you?". May be we all are
open books.

***

Thank you. When I say thank you I don't just mean that I'm grateful for
what you did and said - it certainly helped me. But over and above this
I appreciate your generosity, I realise that you put yourself out, you
gave me the benefit of your experience, call it wisdom may be, you
stepped in when it would have been just as easy to stay outside. So I
thank you for what you did and for what it achieved for me.

I realise and value that you didn't have to do anything. No-one would
have known let alone blame you. Moreover if you'd done nothing you
couldn't have felt bad about it yourself. So there was no pressure on
you to help. It's because you helped so freely that I'm thankful.

I also appreciate that you weren't motivated by any thought of personal
gain or gratification - it was simply that you privately knew you were
in a position to act and so you did. How much easier and safer it is
for all of us not to intervene, not to invite complications. I hope you
do feel some gratification because although what you did might not have
been a lot to you, I want you to know that it had a major benefit to
me.

I believe the way you stepped in and helped in so gratuitously was an
act of high sophistication and civilisation, it's these things, surely,
that separate us from the animals. I think there's something close to
friendship or love involved but a high level love, a love of life and
mankind.

When any of us decide whether we should offer someone else some help, I
think we automatically do a quick calculation of what it'll cost us to
help compared to how much it's going to benefit the other person.
That's the basis on which we act. But here you acted spontaneously,
from your heart and soul without any consideration of the checks and
balances.

***

I ought to explain why Rachel felt she owed me. I'd joined the company
as a young manager full of bright ideas and enthusiasm I guess. Rachel
had been working for about a year in the typing pool that I was soon to
dismantle. It was her first job since leaving school. She had only a
moderate formal academic record but she struck me as a bright girl. She
had quite a sparky personality but also very dependable work-wise and
these characteristics meant that she was popular with everyone. She
came over as happy-go-lucky even flippant, running down her colleagues,
our systems and the company in a tongue-in-cheek way. Gave you a hard
time if ever you needed anything done in a hurry but again this was
teasing really. A couple of incidents showed that underneath this
fa?ade she was extremely conscientious both in terms of quality and
deadlines. It was also obvious that her throughput was remarkable, in
addition she continually came up with ideas for little improvements in
her own sphere of work or even more widely than that. There was
definitely something there. I chatted to her a couple of times about
what she wanted to do, did she have ambition, nothing pushy, my style
was to prompt subtly so as to stir some latent motivations. Gradually
she took our casual and occasional conversations more seriously. I
think the point of no return was when she actually declared that she
thought she could do most of the jobs in the department, I told her
that I didn't doubt it but wondered what did she intended to do about
it. The upshot was that she started on a day release course at college
some months later. At first she found it a bit of a struggle but we all
gave her encouragement and help where we could. Once she had a few
pointers she was away. She completed the course quickly. The next stage
was a professional qualification but for this I knew she needed to move
out from the department and so this was arranged. From then on she was
on her own and flying. She did really well and now, about eight years
later, she was off to be our chief accountant in New Zealand. I must
admit that I knew I had the knack of spotting potential and encouraging
youngsters and I loved giving them a push start and then watching them
develop under their own steam. It gave me a lot of satisfaction and
pride. So to me, Rachel wasn't a special case. But until now, I took
private pleasure in helping people release their potential but it had
never really struck me that their lives would be quite different if
this hadn't happened.

And now, whilst she was wrapping things up with her current job, she'd
been seconded on to the New Horizons team. This was a programme
introducing electronic trading throughout our company. Rachel was going
around, with some others, presenting and selling the scheme to our
employees but also to our supplier base and some key customers. For our
own staff we had also embarked on a major cultural change programme and
New Horizons was a sub-set within this. So it was quite a task she'd
accepted. As one of the senior managers in the corporation, I'd also
been scheduled to talk at some of the workshops. So it was almost like
fate urging us towards a liaison.

Well thursday finally came. We met up at some country hotel, she'd
booked a double room for us. We had a meal. Although the conversation
was light enough there was a bit of an atmosphere. It was strange to be
sitting there knowing what was coming next I suppose. We went up to the
room I made coffee and we had a whisky each. We sat in armchairs with a
small coffee table between us. We chatted and chatted. I kept
rehearsing in my mind how to raise the subject, should I just blurt
out: "Let's go to bed".

The minutes went on and I think she knew I was struggling. The
conversation became more and more disjointed. I began to fidget. May
be, I thought, I should just go over and kiss her. Finally our talk
petered out altogether. We sat that glowering at each other, the raw
lust was palpable. My throat felt dry and cracked. It seemed like we
just let the silent sexy atmosphere build under its own pressure.
Finally I made a lame attempt to start some small talk again:

"Y'know.." but that's as far as I got, Rachel rightly decide to take
matters into her own hands. That's when she got up and turned her back
so deliberately, it was so sensual I could feel myself bursting..

"Oh Em I really want you to fuck me now."

In the morning I woke feeling so much younger and full of energy and
enthusiasm. We made love in a loving less frantic way. I felt terrific,
like I could walk through walls.

***

"Hiya sexy!"

"Oh hi there." Was my deadpan response.

"You've probably got people with you."

"Yes that's right." All terse and businesslike.

"That's okay, I just wanted to say hi, see ya tonight hun, keep
thinking about me lots!"

"Yes okay then, that's fine."

I had a couple of the lads in the office with me, I hoped I wasn't
blushing so that I didn't give the game away.

Rachel would make little calls to me like that now and then and once or
twice sent me little notes. Nothing heavy, always discrete, but it
meant a lot to me. The whole thing seemed so good, almost innocently
so.

In the couple of weeks since we took the leap, we'd been able to meet
up three or four times, usually managing to spend the night together,
although one or other of us usually had to get up very early to get to
our work location for the day.

For the first time ever life for me became full of surprises, and all
of them pleasant. Did I feel guilt, well no, I think that in a detached
way I felt what we were doing was "wrong", I don't think I really tried
to deny that to myself, but it was al so much FUN. We loved the sheer
lasciviousness of it all, Rachel once told me that playing the real
life part of an adultress gave her a thrill and whenever she'd
fleetingly think of herself in that way, it would make her feel naughty
- but proud of herself instead of being ashamed. I think we both felt
that this was living - take enjoyment out of life, slightly elicitly
but then no-one got hurt and we greatly benefited - wasn't that what it
should all be about? When I was planning to have an affair I worried
that my work and home life would suffer, but not a bit of it. I guess I
must have been energised or unstressed or something but I was much
happier in my work and seemed to be able to deal with problems with
amazing clarity. And Rachel just never stopped surprising me in so many
ways. One time we were staying at a hotel, we'd both had fairly
mediocre days and a quietish meal. As we went to my room I was
anticipating a low key evening in keeping with the mood of the rest of
the day.

"Try cable for a film Em."

"Yeah, okay then. Doesn't look like there's too much choice. There's
that thriller we've already seen, or a weepy, some
oldies&;#8230;what d'you think?"

"Not those silly, a blue movie."

She said it in such a matter of fact way, I just stood there
gob-smacked.

"You're face! A girl's got to get new ideas from somewhere after
all!"

Let's say the mood dramatically changed, a rampant time was had by all.
During a reflective interlude as she stroked my chest gently she told
me that like all good convent school girls, she'd started watching sexy
videos when she was about 15. She said they really turned her on and it
seemed that she even enjoyed some fairly hard stuff. I said I was
thrilled but a little surprised.

"Why's that then?" she asked mischievously.

"Dunno, not being sexist but I thought porn was mainly made for
men."

"Some girls can take it or leave it, but then I've always been a bit
bi."

I don't know whether that was true or not but I'm sure she said it
deliberately to turn me on, and it certainly had the desired
effect.

The next day I was driving round in what became my normal post-Rachel
reverie, chuckling to myself at the naughtiness of it and I remembered
that it shouldn't really have surprised me that much because when she
was younger, after a couple of drinks she was always good for a dirty
joke or two.

Although the sex was out of this world, there was so much more to our
relationship. The conversations we had were full of meaning and
feeling, I discovered for the first time that talking could be a
pleasure in itself instead of what it had become in my everyday life
which was nothing more than a necessary means of communication. Now I
learnt how you could make people feel good with words, how you could
share humour, make ideas and hopes seem possible, diminish fears and
problems by talking and listening. Rachel and I tended not to waste
time and words on every day trivia but shared so many thoughts and
feelings and desires and ambitions. It may all sound very clich?d, but
this all made me feel young and alive, my imagination had been stirred
and I was now aware of possibilities that I never knew existed and I
wanted to explore them all!

I managed to switch some of the New Horizon venues that I was scheduled
to attend so that we had a couple of week-ends together. We ate some
superb meals in excellent restaurants. It was like we were both drugged
into a heightened state of sensitivity, we appreciated subtle flavours
and blends like never before. We did so many things that we'd always
wanted to do but never seemed to get round to doing or we'd just
spontaneously try something having never thought of it before. We
experienced the joy of open air Shakespeare which left us buzzing. We
visited fringe theatre, we bopped at pop concerts and even went to some
classical stuff where we'd shut our eyes and let the melodies wash over
us, we visited several art galleries and exhibitions which almost
always had an aphrodisiac effect - I guess it was the energy and
sensitivity reflected in the art that created a sensually charged
atmosphere. Almost inevitably, on one occasion, at some modern abstract
show which had quite an explicitly sexual undertone, in Brussels I
think it was, we had to have what we called "emergency intercourse" in
the disabled loos. The whole situation seemed perfect nobody was
suffering as a result of it and, because of the limited time we had, we
impatiently took and gave everything we could to each other.

Every now and then she'd call, often at the start of the working
day.
"Good morning, just wanted to say hi, that's all."
It was such a simple but gratuitous gesture. Her voice was so full of
happiness. It's another clich? but this affair really made me feel
alive, I would never have dreamed that it would do me so much good. I
thought it would make me furtive and defensive but instead I felt like
I could take on the world. With a little passing sadness I realised
that life would never get better than this.
Other times she'd call me at work and with just a few words she'd paint
an enticingly sexy image and then she'd sign off by saying something
like "now I've put a smile on your face you can stay happy all day", or
"hold that thought until we get together again". I never thought Rachel
would be the affectionate sort but she did it all in such a natural and
giving way. I'd always thought she was a bit of a toughie and could be
quite cold when she wanted - I now realised that whilst this
observation was possibly accurate, it was balanced by her other traits
which were just as strong but less likely to be displayed in normal
circumstances, this soft caring side was a typical contrast.

Occasionally I would start to experience some angst, she'd respond so
positively. She had a saying about "no regrets, no bruises, no promises
that might be broken, just the here and now". It's a damn nuisance that
when you're 30 you realise how you should have lived, what you should
have done, the risks you should have taken when you were 20 and the
same again when you get to 40, if there was a second time around, we'd
all know what to do. If I had adopted this frame of mind before, life
would have been so much better, not just for me but for others around
me. Realising things like this made me doubly determined to make the
best of what time we had left together.

Now that we'd embarked on this adventure, it was a bit like in for a
penny, in for a pound, we became quite wanton, it was like our libidos
had been freed. The physical side of our relationship was probably
enhanced because our mutual desire having been suppressed for so long.
To be brutally honest, the illictness added to the excitement - don't
let anyone tell you otherwise - if you don't believe me think honestly
about sex before and after your own marriage or long term partnership,
didn't sex have an edge when the relationship was less formal. Think
frankly about the times you've had or imagined having sex in
public/semi-public places. Danger adds a little twist to things. I
think Rachel intuitively exploited this, she deliberately introduced
risks to heighten our pleasure. The only time we almost got found out
was when an alert waiter happened to look across at the right or wrong
time and saw something he shouldn't have. Rachel had been speaking at
an early New Horizons session and was speaking again towards the end of
the day. I was running a workshop in the middle of the afternoon. We
were presenting from a small platform, which was backed on two sides by
some display screens - they were a couple of metres high and plastered
with logos and straplines from the campaign. We also had another
smaller partition behind the platform to create a small area where
speakers could collate their notes and generally prepare in some
privacy. I was waiting there to start my session and Rachel came by.
She pressed up close to me and grabbed my hand and slid it under her
skirt so that I could feel that she was wearing stockings and
suspenders.

"Got your favourite leopard skin undies on too!" She whispered hoarsely
into my ear and nipped the lobe playfully.

I was just about to get my own back by having a bit of a grope when we
spotted a young, very nervous looking waiter loitering a few paces
away.

And I had to go straight on stage. I don't know how I managed to
concentrate on my opening lines and ignore the embarrassment that the
delegates were probably only too aware of the tent in my trousers. She
really teased me that day. Sometimes we'd manage a quickie before
dinner but on this occasion Rachel found people to keep her talking in
the bar until dinner. After our meal some of us adjourned to the
lounge. As soon as I could I very deliberately stretched and yawned and
said I was going for a shower and to catch up on some work. Usually
Rachel would follow me up a few minutes after such a blatant signal.
But this time I waited for more than an hour. Eventually she sauntered
in very casually and declared:-

"Gosh I'm whacked, think I'll have a shower and hit the sack."

I was flabbergasted and whilst I gaped waiting to articulate some
protest, she disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door.

"Charming." I thought.

She left me to stew for a good few minutes more but then sallied back
in with a throaty giggle, I almost exploded from the release of the
pent up frustration - it was the nearest I'd ever come to brutal rape.
But I think she'd worked herself up too. She showed me more new tricks
that night, like putting me in her and riding me furiously for a while
but then getting off and sucking off all her juices from my throbbing
dick.

Looking back now we became unrestrained to the point of being out of
control. At another New Horizons venue, we went for an early evening
walk in the grounds, it was a lovely warm late summer evening. But we
were suddenly caught in a heavy down pour, far from the hotel and any
shelter. We made love naked on the grass with the smell of warm mud,
and the effect of the cooling rain producing another previously
undiscovered erotic recipe.

I've read a few times about how ladies can get a thrill from going
about their normal business without anyone knowing that they were
wearing the most sexy underwear. Rachel had her own variation on this.
Again she was running a course and I was on business in the area. I
managed to finish early and get over to her hotel. I saw her in a
training room dressed very demurely. She had a very smart dress on that
was just below the knee in length and had a high mandarin style collar
buttoned at the throat and long sleeves buttoned at the wrist. It
wasn't her usual style but she looked pretty sensational. She saw me
and gave me a little smile. I didn't join Rachel and the delegates
during an early evening cocktaily thing but I watched her from the bar
feasting my eyes as usual on her splendid form. I knew that mercifully
there was no course dinner that night, so after a quick drink I went up
to my room. I was thinking of having a shower when Rachel tapped on the
door. She pushed through it and without saying a word she pressed up
against me and backed me against the nearest wall. She was groaning and
writhing up and down me, smothering me in kisses. Something had really
turned her on - she seemed to have lost the power of speech and it was
almost like she was running a fever. I gently pushed her off and
started to unbutton her dress, I'd got about a third of the way down
when she wriggled her shoulders and it fell away. She had nothing on
except a gold chain around her waist. She let out a sigh as if she was
climaxing and kissed me really hard, really pulling my head in to her.
She started tearing my clothes off, gasping and muttering as she
did.

"God Em, do you know what it's been like all day." She was panting
huskily&;#8230;"been feeling sooo sexy, I could feel myself getting
wet&;#8230;oh god, oh god, I can't wait, take me now, Em, take me
now and hard&;#8230;"

I ought to explain a little of how this affected my home life. I think
if you could ask wifey you'd find that my performance really improved.
I had renewed interest in sex and had new tricks to show off. I'm
pretty sure that she'd have noticed a certain light-heartedness in my
manner. I'm pretty cheerful normally but even I was aware that my mood
was more jovial and relaxed. At the time a colleague had commented that
there seemed to be an extra "sprightliness" about me. So wifey
definitely benefited too. I've got a sneaky feeling that with female
intuition, she may well have guessed that I had to be up to something.
Probably my new prowess and techniques were more likely to give me away
than the increasing absences from home. The things I'd thought would be
a problem didn't turn out to be too bad, it was things I'd never
thought of that could have tripped me up in the early days. Staying
away from home wasn't difficult at all as my work had always included a
reasonable amount of overnight trips. And the pattern had always been
erratic, so it was quite understandable if I was suddenly away a lot
more often than usual. Alibis weren't an issue either. Because my work
was pretty boring to me, I never talked about it much, so wifey didn't
have too good an idea of what I really did, so any vague cover story
would seem believable. The first thing that nearly tripped me up was a
room that I'd booked for me and Rachel. The thing was it was actually a
suite with a four-poster bed. Worried about this showing up on my
company account, I paid with my personal credit card forgetting that it
was a joint account and that the statement was sent to my home.
Fortunately the tell-tale details went unnoticed but I was much more
careful after that. For a while I tried to make sure I always had
plenty of cash but that proved a bit of a chore, so in the end I took
out a separate credit card (the "nooky account" Rachel dubbed it) and
had the statements sent to my work address. Then there was the matter
of condoms. It wasn't a problem buying them, but where to keep them
"before the event" and where to hide any "spares" that were left over
in between times. The problem was that wifey and I had always been
rather open about me diving into her hand-bag or purse if I needed
anything and similarly she'd go into my brief-case and wallet with
impunity. All these little things took some working out. Arranging
"meetings" with Rachel didn't prove as tricky as I had expected. I
found that it was just a matter of planning and prioritising things. By
that I mean that when I used to idly wonder about how people managed to
have affairs, I thought they had to opportunistically squeeze their
liaisons in with their normal working and family life. I now knew that
what you did was fit everything else around the affair. So, for
example, I organised my business travel so that it fitted in with
Rachel's movements. I suppose it was a bit disappointing in a way to
learn that these things weren't marvellously spontaneous - it was a bit
like learning how a conjuring trick is done. With a bit of careful
planning there wasn't the need either to have to quickly come up with
some believable off-the-cuff comment to cover up some tenuous story,
which I had thought would be the downfall of many philanderers. Now
that I was in on the secrets of how these things were done, I lost my
fascination for how prominent public figures did it and instead I would
now smile knowingly to myself whenever such a news story broke. It was
like being a member of a secret club.

If I'd have thought about it beforehand, I'd have assumed that having
an affair would have played on my conscious and caused me to sleep even
worse than normal but in fact I was sleeping the sleep of the
righteous. I guess it must have partly been due to a nice tiredness and
partly because I was going to bed with more satisfaction than I'd felt
at any time in my adult life. It had been many years since I'd been
able to have even two or three consecutive nights good sleep. It used
to panic me. I used to toss and turn worrying that I'd feel lousy in
the morning or that I'd fall asleep and crash whilst driving around the
country. I'd also worried about longer term effects and so would
periodically resort to medical or other supposed sleep remedies none of
which seemed to be at all effective. Gradually I reconciled myself to
the idea that if I wasn't going to be able to sleep then I might as
well do something useful. I wouldn't actually get up but instead would
lie there puzzling through current problems, quite often I'd come up
with sound solutions but even when I didn't, I'd at least not be
fretting so much about the fact that I wasn't asleep. As I got older I
realised that most normal adults slept badly once or twice a week, so
when I realised I was in for a restless nice, I was able to accept it
more and comfort myself with the idea that if I wasn't sleeping well
now, I'd be more likely to have at least a reasonable night's sleep
tomorrow. I also finally realised that in fact the lack of sleep did
not actually seem to have any significantly bad effects either in the
short or longer term. May be I'd be a bit bad tempered towards the end
of the next day, or possibly I'd doze off in the early evening, but
surprisingly nothing really untoward occurred. In the end I reckoned
that many nights when I slept badly it was because I was trying to get
more sleep than I needed or else I wasn't actually as tried as I
thought. I also came to welcome the bizarre ideas and images that came
from that strange half-sleep half- semi-conscious-drowsy state. From
time to time I'd lie awake reviewing my life. I usually concluded that
I wasn't exactly unhappy with my lot but I had plenty of regrets about
the wrong decisions I'd made, the risks I hadn't taken and the
experiences I hadn't had. But I thought that most adults should feel
some regrets, it didn't seem possible that anyone could have managed to
enjoy everything that life could have offered them so fully that they
were left without regrets. The only real disappointment that these
self-analysis sessions used to reveal was that my life was really
pretty boring. I'm not saying that I wanted to live life permanently on
the edge but I thought I deserved a little more excitement now and
then. With hindsight I'm pretty sure that all these early morning
mulling-things-over sessions must have subconsciously created the need
in me to go and find something, the missing "x factor" in my
life.

- * * * -

Although Rachel and I became so uninhibited and I truly became a new
man, I didn't come off the tracks completely nor did I become an
inveterate philanderer but as with most forbidden things, once you've
tried them you can't leave them alone, so I did continue with
occasional affairs - the sex was great but to be honest it was the
excitement, the adventure which was more therapeutic. For me the
successful formula seemed to be to embark on things from the outset
with the idea of bring them to a conclusion within about 6-8 weeks.
This stopped things from getting complicated, it kept things fresh and
at least made me determined to get the most out of each fling, and of
course it reduced the chance of being found out. But the time with
Rachel was far and away the best thing that ever happened to me and in
a way it was sad to know that things could never get better than that.
Somehow the happiness I felt, the conversations we had, the thoughts
that were opened up in me and expressed, and the way I started to
behave some how gave birth to the real me. I felt different and became
more giving, more concerned. And when we were apart I had a longing for
Rachel that I'd never experienced before, not even as a love-sick
teenager. The sex we shared was quite simply beyond description if not
belief, it wasn't possible to even think of coming close to it again.
In some ways this spoiled sex for me from then on. I found it
impossible to make love to wifey with the lights on, her body seemed a
travesty compared to Rachel's. I was never again to keep my eyes open
during the act with her and I always, always imagined I was doing it
with Rachel. In my blueprint for an affair, I'd have never got involved
with someone where there was a chance of our social or geographical
circles overlapping. So throughout our affair I'd occasionally worry
about the proximity of Rachel's life to my own and was alert to the
chance of discovery. Yet despite her playfulness, she remained
fantastically discreet and loyal. She never gave anything away so that
none of our colleagues ever guessed what was going on. Even when I
heard from her occasionally when she went to New Zealand, she was
great, so careful to avoid wifey and Tim from being hurt by knowledge
they didn't need, and so mindful that neither of us wanted to destroy
our independent lives. Naturally I'd wonder from time to time if wifey
ever suspected anything - she certainly never hinted at it. And I was
occasionally curious as to whether she'd ever dallied, but not in a
jealous way - in fact this thought always amused me, which goes to
prove my point that affairs really can be harmless and fun. If wifey's
been at it, but I never get to know, if she's discreet and doesn't brag
about it to her friends, then I can't see how I can get hurt. It's just
a question of doing it for the right reasons and that is to make
yourself feel good and not to make someone else feel bad, and being
careful to cover your tracks.

When Rachel explained why she felt indebted to me she told me I had
made her feel good about herself. Until she mentioned this I did it
naturally, I hadn't been aware of deliberately trying to build her
confidence or anyone else's. But having discovered this little secret,
in years to come I'd much more consciously use this skill to inspire or
destroy people's self confidence. It took too long for adventures to
come about serendipitously so I determined to do whatever I could to
manipulate situations to increase the chance of a new liaison. I don't
know whether this makes me a worse person, or does it mean I've learned
another little trick for getting a little bit more out of life. And at
the end of the day, isn't that what it's all about - getting the most
out of the short time we're given?

There was an affair after Rachel where I forgot these guidelines. I was
too calculating and set about this particular affair with too much
serious intent instead of fun. Consequently it was all rather
unsatisfactory and so far I've never tried to do anything like that
again. I'd had this playground sweetheart at primary school. Similar
social backgrounds, lived in the same neighbourhood, lots of other
things in common. Annie and I got on really well, it was all rather
sweet. But we went to different secondary schools and drifted apart.
One night, in our mid-teens, we met at a disco and she came on to me
pretty strongly. Unfortunately I had a casual girl-friend with me and
so spurned Annie's advances. At the worst points of my marriage, I'd
look back and try to work out where I'd be if I'd made different
choices. From time to time it occurred to me that Annie was probably
one of the most compatible people I'd ever met. I'd often wondered what
would have happened if I'd taken up with her again from that fateful
night in the disco. From time to time I would hear the odd snippet
about her from friends who stayed in the same area. I knew she was now
a divorcee with a couple of teenage kids. So it was relatively easy to
track her down when I foolishly tried to turn back history. We made it
to bed pretty easily, and don't get me wrong, the affair was nice but
somehow it just didn't work. Rather than just being something relaxing,
therapeutic even, it became some kind of attempt to re-create the past.
I was looking for something too deep which ultimately wasn't there.
From my point of view the whole thing became too forced and so I ended
it quickly. Good-bye Annie. I found out the hard way that you can't
find out what might have been. You've got to always move on.

Every now and then during our affair and after it, I'd look back over
the early days when we worked together to see if there were any signs
of Rachel's interest in me. Even with hindsight I couldn't really see
any, she must have been so controlled. Once, though, she really let me
down about something. It's a bit of a complicated story to go into now.
At the time, although I put it down to youthful irresponsibility, I was
very disappointed because she let me down deliberately, not through any
accident or misunderstanding. In addition, the consequences for the
company, and therefore for me were quite severe. A couple of days after
the incident, she came in awkwardly to my office after everyone else
had gone and was very contrite. I mumbled a mealy mouthed acceptance
without really looking up, so it was some minutes later before I
realised that she'd left me an envelop. Initially I thought it was her
resignation and at that moment I was in two minds whether to accept it.
But I was quite thrown to instead find the following note:-

"I want to say sorry to you.

I'm not doing this to make myself feel better nor am I looking for your
absolution because the fact is that I'll always remember that I was
wrong, I acted terribly and caused you unnecessary pain. I realise that
you've suffered that pain and neither my apology nor anything else I
could say or do can roll back time so that you avoid that pain.

I simply want you to know that I was wrong and there was nothing that
you said or did which contributed to the way I behaved. I only hope
that my apology will enable you to remove that nagging doubt, that
embarrassment - you knew you weren't to blame, you knew my words and
actions weren't justified and now you'll realise that I know it too. I
hope that helps a bit.

I can't do anything about the doubt and embarrassment that I've caused
among your friends by what I said and did, I can only say that I hope
you can rise above it and that your real friends would have always
trusted you and would have always been on your side.

What makes it worse is that if I'm honest about it, I didn't act on a
misunderstanding, there was no mistake in the information I had. I knew
what the real situation was and I knew, or if I stopped for half a
second I'd have realised, that I was going to cause you pain. So there
was a great selfish, careless attitude in what I did.

In spite of my being sorry, and believe me I am, without qualification,
you will still feel less about me. Please don't feel bad about this, I
will always hold myself in less esteem than I did before. Your
disappointment in me can't exceed the disappointment I have in
myself.

I don't want you to feel sympathy for me. I want you to bask in
exoneration. I want you to always despise me for what I did and said.
If I knew that this was my penalty, my punishment, it would actually
make me feel a bit better. It's partly the cleansing effect of
punishment but partly because if you continue to feel anger and regret,
it meant that previously our relationship must have meant something to
you, and I hold on to that thought even though I fully appreciate that
I've now irrevocably besmirched that memory.

Please dismiss completely any nagging doubt that you might have in some
small even accidental way contributed to what went on. You were
entirely without blame. Even in your most private and deepest thoughts
you don't have a single reason to reproach yourself.

Sorry."

Apparently she'd copied this from some book but looking back now, I
remember that at the time I suspected that she'd composed it herself.
Either way I was struck that its sentiment was rather over the top. It
was too&;#8230;, I don't know, too intense I guess. When we had
problems at work, people would usually say sorry, we'd have a drink and
probably a joke about it and then it'd be all over, we'd move on.
Though I'd forgotten all about the incident, when I look back I now
remember that I was a bit disturbed by the almost intimate tone of her
note. Something wasn't quite right. I was a bit circumspect around her
for quite a while after that. I avoided joking with her and she was
pretty quiet towards me. I think everyone else thought I was still
cross with her but I now realise that the tension was because we had
reached a rubicon which we were both reluctant to cross.

There was another big clue I'd missed, it happened years ago and I
hadn't thought about it for a while. At the time, I replayed the
incident so many times in my head but as a bit of sheer fantasy and not
because I suspected there was anything more to it than a quick flash
which I had been lucky enough to spot. I think it was about half-way
through our affair, we'd had some fabulous sex in the middle of the
afternoon. We were having a light-hearted interlude, lying next to each
other, both still naked and enjoying the luxury of not having to rush.
I was thinking that before Rachel sex had always been good but I'd
taken it pretty seriously. Rachel and I took it very seriously lots of
the time but also, as with everything we did, there was lots of fun and
laughter, or at least smaning! Rachel rolled over and found me
propped up just looking at her, drinking it all in, as I often
did.

"No regrets my lover?" she asked quite softly.

"Christ no. I couldn't tell you how much I'm enjoying every moment of
this. And I just love your body, if I'd have known, I'd have done
anything to have got naked with you!" I growled playfully and sucked
her still erect nipples. She giggled.

"I've always been rather proud of it, y'know. In fact,&;#8230;I'm
not sure if I should tell you, but I did show it off once or at least
tried to! Remember when I flashed you that time? Didn't you know it was
on purpose."

The penny dropped. When Rachel had probably been working for me for
about three years, there was some mix up over some social arrangement.
Rachel hadn't shown at the bar where a group of us were meeting before
going on to a new club that had quickly built a tremendous reputation.
There was some suggestion that she'd got the days wrong. My department
were a great bunch, I was very much included as one of the lads,
nevertheless I occasionally remembered I was the boss and liked to give
them some space and time without me around, so sometimes I'd arrive at
our dos a bit late or may be I'd leave pretty early. So I volunteered
to go round to Rachel's flat and see what was happening - may be she
wasn't well after all. She had got the days wrong but said she was
really keen to come to the club so she asked me to sit down whilst she
got ready, she said it wouldn't take long. I thought she looked fine as
she was but she explained something about a new outfit, so to I said
I'd popped down to my car to get my phone. I went out, got the phone
and made a call whilst I was about it, I must have been gone over five
minutes so I reckoned Rachel might have been ready or at least well on
the way so I went back into the flat and sat down. As I sat there she
wondered across and then around the room without, apparently noticing
me. The thing was she was completely naked. Initially my instinct was
to be a gentleman and look away and cough or something to let her know
I was there but I'm afraid I was as red-blooded as the next bloke and
found myself awestruck, so I said nothing but watched. And a bit of a
floor show it was too, I saw EVERYTHING. At one point I got a real
eyeful as she knelt down and reached for something when I was right
behind her! Suddenly she realised I was there and let out a little
shriek.

"God boss, I never saw you there. I thought you were waiting in the
car. I'm really sorry." She gushed. "You wont tell the lads will you,
you promise."

At the time I'd never suspected for one minute that it was all
intentional. But now, as I replayed the scene from my memory, I
realised that she never made any attempt to cover herself up once she
realised I was in the room. Although the whole episode probably lasted
less than a minute, I do recall being stunned by the firmness of her
young body. I kept the secret to myself but replayed it in my mind
hundreds of times over the next few years. We both chuckled at the
memory and her brazen-ness and my innocence, despite being the much
older party. I commented about how knowing she seemed to be about
everything to do with sex and complimented her about being a world
champ sex athlete, she took the compliment well and confessed:

"You don't think it's pervy do you Em but I have always liked
sex."

Well by this time I knew that only too well! I constantly couldn't
believe my luck that I was the beneficiary of such a refreshingly open
attitude.

I treasured every moment of being able to gaze at her fantastic body.
We nearly always kept the lights on when we were making love. I loved
to watch her strip. I loved to just look at her supine body as she lay
there naked after sex. I loved it when she would walk around, may be to
get a drink or something, during a break in precedings because she
hardly ever put anything on, I know she did this partly because that
was just the way she was and partly because she knew it was such an
easy way to give me pleasure. Everything about her body was so
symmetrical and phenomenally well proportioned, her breasts were
remarkably firm with such pert and responsive nipples, the sort you see
in pictures of topless models and dismiss them as being air-brushed,
and they were a very attractive light pink colour, although there were
many occasions where they'd go a mush deeper tone, and such a
curvaceous waist, hips, bum, smooth strong but shapely thighs, slim
calves etc etc, Any normal man would be compelled to look and touch as
much as he could. I found it frustrating and thrilling to think that I
must have seen Rachel more than a thousand times over the years and
this perfect body had been hidden from me by clothes all those times,
if only I knew what marvels lay beneath, and if only I'd had the
courage to realise that I could have enjoyed it all for such a long
time. I loved it when she lay next to me resting. I'd gently brush all
parts of her body slowly with just the tips of my fingers. Her skin
felt so smooth and soft and yet I could feel the firm muscle tone
beneath. She'd usually moan quietly enjoying the sensation in a nice
relaxed way. I also knew that she enjoyed giving me such simple
pleasure by letting me touch her like that. I'd have never guessed that
she had a small loveheart tattoo on her right check, I used to rub it
gently and kiss it softly which usually tickled her and would bring on
that throaty giggle. As I've said, I always thought Rachel was trim and
I know she quietly kept an eye on her figure, but I never guessed, or
fantasised at how fabulous she'd look in the nude. I have to admit
though, that I had noticed that Rachel took more care over her
appearance these days. In the old days she could be quite scruffy, at
least at work. But now her hair would always be immaculate. She wore
subtle, tasteful make-up. Her finger nails were always well manicured
and her toe-nails were always neatly varnished. Her legs were always
silky smooth, and, it would be churlish not to mention that I noticed
how her pubes were always neatly trimmed. She always wore delicate
perfume. And her clothes were expensive and stylish and again she knew
exactly how to bring out the best of her figure. I did mention this to
her once as we lay in peaceful, post-coital slumber.

"Thanks honey. You're not so bad yourself y'know." It was said in such
a matter of fact way, not a hint of flattery, it made me feel so good.
I could easily see myself becoming an evangelist for infidelity. Why do
couples stop being attentive to each other when they get married, if
Rachel and I had carried on for years would we have become similarly
indifferent?

I was pretty pleased about this particular little compliment, not just
because I was a little vain. When I was planning my campaign, I
realised that I could do with losing a few pounds and may be an inch or
more from my waist. I knew that women weren't as obsessed with their
partner's physical appearance as men were, but I wanted to look good
and feel good about myself so that I'd be confident and may be even
keen about getting naked. Probably sound a bit over-the-top but
remember how long it had been since any lady (other than wifey) had
seen me without clothes on. I wanted to be as prepared as I could be,
and any way, I figured that a few extra sessions at the gym would do me
no harm.

Another time we were eating somewhere. I still couldn't get over my
luck. Some things intrigued me.

"So how come Rach my boring image didn't put you off in the old days,
I'm amazed you could find anything interesting in someone like that let
alone feel any positive attraction."

"Oh I think quite a few of us girls knew you were hiding behind a
dowdy, Mr Professional front. Those conservative clothes didn't fool
us. You'd give things away - you were too sensitive to small things,
you always noticed if any of us changed our hair or had a new outfit.
And I remember when we could drag you away from your desk and get some
booze down you how funny you'd get and how passionate you could be
about art and soul music and we all got to know that you're quite a
dancer. 10 out of 10 for trying Em, but we girls aren't taken in that
easily."

God, I never knew. These were all stunning revelations to me. And what
did "we girls" mean. How many opportunities had I, do any of us, let
slip by?

I always thought I was much more on the female wave-length than most of
my male peers, but Rachel was so candid that I learnt so much more.
Once when we lay together enjoying some glorious afterglow and chatting
a little as usual, she rolled over to look at me and propped herself up
on her elbow.

"D'you know," she said, "I'm so pleased we did this. I knew you were a
nice man but I'd have never known that you're nearly the perfect lover.
I don't mean my perfect lover - you've already put that beyond reach,
jeez after that last sesh the insides of my thighs were lovely and
stiff for a couple of days, made me feel so bad all the time! No, I
mean you'd be the perfect lover, full stop, if you were just a little
bit longer and thicker." She kissed me lovingly on the lips and rolled
away again on to her back, lost in her thoughts.

It wasn't said nastily or as a criticism but just a matter of fact
observation. She was the first woman who'd I ever know to admit it, yes
what you do with it counts but size does matter! Whilst we're being a
bit clinical, I was delighted by something weird that happened.
Normally during sex, I'd come pretty quickly and take a long time to
recover. With Rachel I found amazing staying power and seemed to be
able to go again and again almost straight away. This was so strange as
I found the sessions with Rachel pleasurable and passionate beyond my
wildest imagination and more erotic than any porn I'd ever read or
watched. You'd think and I certainly did, that such a heightened state
would have the opposite effects! In between times I became quite
intrigued by this phenomena. In the end I decided that with good old
wifey, part of me was doing it just to fulfil a primitive biological
need, other than that, perhaps part of me was not particularly bothered
about it. So may be subconsciously I was quite keen to get it over with
quickly and get on with what I'd rather be doing - reading or sleeping
or whatever. So for me, coming quickly and needing a long recovery
might well have been seated in psychological reasons not physical like
I'd always thought. The theory seemed to fit - with Rachel I was there
and doing it completely because I wanted to and for sheer sybaritism,
so psychologically I'd want it to last as long as possible and to start
again as soon as possible. Who knows? But if I was right and you could
bottle it I'd make a fortune.

- * * * -

Many years ago I discovered the word shunamitism. It has some biblical
origins but means the rejuvenation of an older man by a younger woman.
This is the most precise summary of my involvement with Rachel. I felt
so energetic and good about everything.

Rachel if you ever read this, I know we always avoided things getting
heavy, but you know and I know that something special went on. I felt
so incredibly invigorated by being with you and feel the same even now
whenever I think of you and replay any of our many wonderful episodes.
I'm obsessed, and know that I always will be, I think of you all the
time and I mean that literally. I still daydream about you every day,
probably at least once every couple of hours. We made each other feel
so good in so many ways, and those good feelings will last forever.
Nothing can diminish them. We'll never let things get complicated so we
must NEVER use the "l" word, but there's no other explanation and we
both know it. That was, this is, real true love, of the kind most
people never experience and even for the lucky few who do, it's a once
in any lifetime deal. And because love is good and pure and love is
what we are on this earth for, the fact that we found the truest love
means it wont diminish with time and it can't be tarnished by the
infidelity, lies and deceit.

? Martyn Jansen, 2001.