A Guest at Dinner

All things considered, the weather hadn't been a concern. This night had been planned for months. It wasn't simply a matter of scheduling and finding the right time. If that had been all there was to planning this night then the weather might have been considered, but instead it was only afterthought.

This night required a different type of planning. My wife Bella and I had decided months before, after much discussion and disagreement that we would make this night happen. It required manipulation. It required patience. Most of all it required that we control our desires and appetites until the time came and the moment happened.

All our planning, manipulation, and patience had brought us to this point. And now we just needed to exercise enough self-control to allow events to unfold. One misstep would ruin everything. One wrong word or false move could bring down months of work.

The foundation was built, the house was framed, and now we could move forward.

Rain had been predicted. We knew that much, but the preparations for this special night had not included close monitoring of the weather. A little rain was of no real consequence, or so we believed.

Bella and I lived in a big old house well off the main road. The house was surrounded by woods and built upon a hill. It was not our house. It belonged to the old man who lived upstairs who rented us the basement and left us to our devices. The house was over a hundred years old and had been in his family for four generations. He was the last of his line, never married, without any children, content to live out his days in isolation.

He rented out the basement in order to pay the taxes on his sizable estate. It was like a large apartment, with six rooms, ample space, and all the amenities one would need. It had come decorated with antique furniture and fixtures which made one feel like they had traveled back in time when they were inside. The fireplace in the living room was flanked by mounted animal heads, a moose to the left and a boar's head to the right. Their eyes appeared to follow as you moved about the room, and while we considered taking them down, the old man upstairs had been very insistent that we change nothing, that we not redecorate, and that the basement apartment remain just as it was.

We had rented the basement apartment in part because of Bella's need to be away from crowded places with too many people and too much noise. We needed a quiet place where she could feel at ease. She suffered from schizophrenia and her symptoms were magnified by exposure to an influx of variables over which she had no control. She tended to perceive people she did not know as threats. Unfamiliar sounds were a sign of something sinister. In our quiet apartment the variables could be controlled and limited.

We kept her condition a secret from the landlord, who considered her to be "odd." He was himself quite eccentric and this oddness did not seem to bother him. Most of the time, Bella was quite amenable and one would not suspect she was in any way "touched," as her mother called her when referring to her condition. At other times she seemed quirky, given to flights of fancy and a vivid imagination. With medication and regular visits to her therapist, she had become capable of handling the challenges of everyday living, as long as she was in an environment she felt she was in control of.

She found the sound of rain to be calming, which was why on this night, when our grand plan would come to fruition, I had little concern about the weather. Bella could stand in the rain for hours, and I would be driven to lead her back into the house, fearing she would become sick and need the care of a doctor she was not familiar with, or worse a busy hospital with far more stimuli than she could bear. The rain was calming, but a violent storm accompanied by thunder and lightning was a different animal.

The rain was steady, but calm, before Erika arrived at our door. She was Bella's therapist and had been treating her for the better part of three years. They had known each other longer than Bella and I had been married. I had taken Bella to see her for the first time not long after we began dating, soon after the first signs of her schizophrenia began to manifest in her behavior. Erika had taken a special interest in Bella's case, and although I am often ashamed to admit it, she also took a special interest in me.

Erika was a psychiatrist and her patients universally called her Dr. Erika because her last name was long and difficult to pronounce, a strange and unusual last name of Eastern European ancestry containing an abundance of letters from the back end of the alphabet. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, with blonde hair and big eyes so brown that in the right lighting they looked like black opals. One would never suspect she was a doctor of any kind by the way she dressed and presented herself. She always wore a short skirt, high heels, and a low-cut blouse that drew your gaze uncontrollably towards her very ample cleavage.

She only took female patients, probably because most male patients would be unable to concentrate on therapy and treatment. She was like the personification of the most obvious sexual fantasy of men, a tall blonde with an incredible body who wasn't afraid to put it on display.

Dr. Erika had asked to meet with me before Bella and I took our vows. It was a professional consult, as she was concerned I was not fully aware of the challenges of marrying a schizophrenic. We had numerous sessions over the next few months, and while I engaged with Erika because I wanted the best for Bella, I found myself unable to contain my desires when alone in a room with this beautiful, intelligent woman who began to haunt my dreams and appear constantly in my fantasies. Eventually, when I would make love with Bella, I would find myself imagining it was Erika beneath me and not my wife.

I decided to tell Dr. Erika I could no longer take sessions with her. She asked me why, and I told her I simply did not believe it was a good idea. She pushed for a deeper explanation, insisting we needed these sessions to better understand and do what was best for Bella. So, I confessed to Erika that I could not stop fantasizing about her and imagining being with her and that could certainly not be good for my relationship with my wife.

"Someone who chooses the life you have, to knowingly marry a schizophrenic with severe agoraphobia... very few would choose the life you have chosen," she told me. "There are those who find themselves in your situation, but not by choice, as the symptoms usually manifest after rather than before the marriage."

"I love Bella and I want what's best for her," I told Erika. "Our sessions have been helpful as far as expanding my understanding of her condition and so forth, but maybe there is another shrink I can meet with, someone who can understand the situation?"

"I said you were a very special case," Dr. Erika told me. "That isn't just because you chose to marry a woman who presents many challenges."

"What then?" I wondered.

"You are a very attractive, compassionate, and insightful person. I find you charming, witty, and with many qualities I find both rare and endearing. My interest in you isn't strictly professional."

That exchange was the beginning of our affair. Before I left her office, Erika gave me a pass key to a hotel room. It was in one of the most exclusive hotels in the city and it was there we met regularly for the next few months.

Our "new sessions" as she called them always involved role play, usually a variation on a theme where I was the psychiatrist and she was some kind of nymphomaniac under my care.

The first time I went to the hotel room, I put my pass key in the door, walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt torn by my uncontrollable lust for Dr. Erika and my love for Bella, but when Erika told me the feelings were mutual, that she shared in my desire, it was too much to resist. She promised absolute discretion, and since Bella never left the house and the property surrounding it except for her appointments with Dr. Erika, there was little chance she would ever learn of the affair.

This didn't make me feel any less guilt about the road I was traveling down, but it made it easier to navigate my way along it.

I heard Erika in the bathroom, so I knew I had not been the first to arrive. When she emerged, she was wearing a black satin teddy. Her body was amazing and a gawked like a horny teenager who just opened his first stolen copy of Playboy. Her legs were long, toned, and alabaster white. Her skin was so perfect, so unblemished, and looked as if it had never been touched by the sun. Her large breasts, now freed from a brassiere, appeared overwhelming as they swung gently back and forth against the smooth fabric of her lingerie.

"Doctor, I feel funny between my legs," she said as she walked towards where I sat on the bed. "Is there a treatment you can give me for that?"

Dr. Erika had an advantage when it came to our trysts. She had discussed our sex life at length with Bella and drew from that knowledge to provide me with incredibly satisfying experiences. While her fantasies began with her role playing as a hypersexual patient, once she had me under her spell, she always became the dominant partner and she demanded compliance with her demands. At first it was simple things like what position she wanted me to fuck her in or demanded I go down on her for a full hour, "Or until your tongue falls off," as she put it. As time went on her demands became more bizarre. She would make me crawl around on the floor while she read me erotic poetry, or dry hump my leg while howling like a wolf. At times I wondered if she was merely trying to act out every conceivable sexual fantasy imaginable, or at least those her patients had shared with her.

There were three things that never happened during our wild sexual romps. She never performed oral sex on me and became angry at the mere suggestion. She discouraged me from touching or otherwise making contact with her breasts except via incidental contact during sex. And she never, ever, reached orgasm. She didn't even fake it, and she didn't seem to care.

"That was wonderful. Thank you," she always said at the end of our sessions, and always in her most professional tone of voice. It was as if we had completed a business transaction.

After several months of my regular encounters with Erika at the hotel, my conscience got the better of me and I confessed my infidelity to Bella. I expected her to be angry, or to cry, or to have some kind of devastating emotional reaction to my revelation.

Instead, she just looked at me sadly and said, "I know. I saw it in my mirror."

Bella had a mirror on her dresser she claimed allowed her to see what was going on "out in the world." Most of the things she said she saw in the mirror were things that never actually happened, like an earthquake destroying the town she was born in or a snake with a human head being under the bed. At other times the things she reported seeing in the mirror were actual events she could not otherwise have known about, like a young boy on a bicycle being hit by a car in town, which I had seen happen while coming home from grocery shopping earlier in the day. I chalked these up to being lucky guesses or eerie coincidences.

"I want you to be happy," Bella said after telling me she knew about my affair. "Dr. Erika is a very attractive woman. I don't think she has a husband or a boyfriend but she doesn't talk about her personal life. She says that is a violation of professional ethics, but she always seems lonely to me."

"I'm happy with you, Bella," I told her. "I'm sorry. I just gave in to lust because I'm weak and stupid."

"Don't be sorry, my love," she said, looking at me with a smile and tears in her eyes. "I want you to have everything you desire and if you desire Dr. Erika then I want you to have her."

"I don't want to leave you for her," I explained, thinking she was telling me it was okay to leave her for Erika. "I love you. She's just..."

"She's eye candy," Bella said. "She's got that smoking hot body and she flaunts it like a cheap hooker. I know you wouldn't leave me for her. She's got brains, but I don't think she has a soul."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever brought her to orgasm?" Bella asked.

"What? No. I'd rather not talk about..."

"I didn't think so," Bella said as she stared off at the boar's head next to the fireplace. "We should invite her over for dinner sometime."

This was the discussion that began the planning for a night we both came to believe would be the most thrilling of our young lives. We would invite Dr. Erika to the house for dinner. That was all the invitation would say, but there was more to the invitation than what could be seen on the surface. We wouldn't extend the invitation immediately, we would wait until the groundwork was complete and the stage was set for what we were really planning.

Dr. Erika was a brilliant woman in her field, but I had come to realize that her interaction with people on a more personal level was very limited. Her knowledge of human behavior was primarily theoretical rather than derivative of personal experience. She often seemed to consider herself above the rabble, possessing a sense of intellectual superiority, but with a great craving to be punished for this somehow. The way she began our sessions at the hotel betrayed this. They always started with her being a patient, an oversexed woman with psychological issues portrayed convincingly because of Erika's experience with patients who had those same issues.

The role play as a patient who was submissive to me, the doctor, would change as soon as the sexual play ended and physical intimacy started. At that point she always switched roles and began making demands of me. "Lick my pussy!" "Turn me over!" "Stop now, I've had enough!"

She never reached orgasm during our sessions, but she was also very specific about mine. She never let me cum while we were having intercourse. She would bring me to the edge multiple times, but she kept phenomenal control over me, and in the end she would tell me she had enough, have me to sit for a while and wait while she changed into the clothes she wore at the office. Then she would sit on a chair in front of me and have me pretend I was a patient in her office who was secretly masturbating while in a treatment session with her. She'd make me keep quiet, touch myself under a sheet, and act like I was listening intently as she went on with the kind of chatter that might be part of an actual therapy session.

After I confessed to Bella about the affair, and we began planning our little dinner party, Bella's entire demeanor changed. She was driven by a newfound purpose that alleviated her boredom and distracted her from obsessing about her condition. All she talked about was "the special night" and the thoughts and ideas she had about it.

The special night was all about having Dr. Erika over for dinner and then convincing her to basically join us for a sexual threesome. I didn't believe it would really happen, especially given some of the more outlandish ideas Bella brought to the table, but mostly because I didn't think Erika would cross professional boundaries and engage in sexual activity with a schizophrenic patient. She had chosen to begin an affair with me, but I wasn't a patient, I was what she called a "caregiver."

Bella could be very clever, sometimes almost pathologically so, and she began telling Dr. Erika that she felt sexually attracted to large breasted women. She brought it up slowly at first during their sessions and acted embarrassed and ashamed of these feelings. After first bringing it up, she pushed it aside, telling Dr. Erika she didn't want to talk about it, that she thought it was "gross" and "wrong," that she was married and such thoughts were a betrayal of her commitment to me.

Eventually, however, Dr. Erika convinced her to talk about it. Bella had alluded to it numerous times in their sessions and then got flustered, once even leaving the office because she "couldn't deal with it." When Erika finally convinced Bella to talk about these feelings, which were obviously plaguing her and upsetting her, Bella came home and told me "the plan is succeeding!"

During my hotel rendezvous with Erika, I looked for an opportunity to bring up the topic of inviting another person into our encounters. That opportunity never seemed to come. Erika appeared very pleased with our sessions. Unlike Bella, I never really believed this scheme would work, and I didn't want to risk offending Erika. Now that Bella knew about the affair and approved of it, I wanted very much for them to continue.

Erika didn't know Bella was aware of our ongoing affair. Neither Bella nor I gave her any indication of this and we both felt it was better this way, even though it meant Bella was not being completely honest with her psychiatrist, which undoubtedly affected her treatment.

I was getting dressed in the hotel room after a particularly hot afternoon romp with Erika and was about to leave when she stopped me and said she wanted to ask me about something.

"Have you ever thought about having another person join us?" she asked.

"You want some woman or a man getting into bed with us?"

"Either or," she said, very casually and with no affect in her voice. "It was just something I was giving a passing thought to."

"I don't think I would like sharing you," I lied to her.

"I see," Erika told me stoically. "It was just a thought."

I wasn't sure I should tell Bella about the exchange for fear it would make her cocky and overconfident and thus lead her to overplay her hand during her therapy sessions. I knew she would interpret what Erika had said as an endorsement of our plan and an expression of Erika's interest in it. All she'd really said was that she had a passing interest in the idea of having another person join us in our hotel room.

Bella was clever, but also given to moments of extreme paranoid and delusions. The fact that she remained so focused on making a threesome happen with the two of us and Erika was out of character for her. I'd expected her to lose interest after a while and find something else to occupy her time and thoughts. My expectations had been wrong. This obsession was consuming her.

"So, would you like it if it were another woman?" Erika asked me after our next session at the hotel.

I knew what she was talking about despite her bringing it up without first establishing context. "I just really don't want to be in bed with a man. The thought disgusts me. You're the one who brought it up. It was your idea."

"I know," she said. "These things are tricky. It sounds good in theory and during pillow talk, but when it comes down to it, jealousy is a cruel monster."

"Well, like I said, you were the one who brought it up."

"I have a client whose husband is obsessed with having a threesome with another woman," she said. "In our last session she told me she found out her husband is having an affair. I think it must every man's fantasy to have his wife and mistress get it on while he watches."

"Now you're just talking crazy," I said after catching my breath.

"I don't have a session until three o'clock today. My pussy is closed for the day, but I have a special idea for our second round."

We'd never had a "second round" before. Usually after Erika announced she was "done," she made me get myself off while pretending I was a patient masturbating during a therapy session, then we closed up shop and went our separate ways. Even when I'd try to get a "second round" started, she would push me away and say, "When we're done, we're done. Don't push your luck."