Essence of an Affair

by Max Sebastian

  'I guess I do worry that if she does tell me, I won't want her to do it. I'll have some change of heart.'

  'But what you did... it's clear you do want to know, isn't it? Otherwise you wouldn't have been sneaking around like that.'

  At the end of the day, after his decontamination routine, he had driven around to Effie's office in his i3 electric car, and parked it opposite the entrance lobby of her building. He wasn't worried about her spotting his car, even though it was a fairly unusual vehicle, being electric-powered with zero tailpipe emissions. His car was black, like many others around, and Effie knew nothing about cars.

  It wasn't long after seven that she emerged from her building--and she wasn't with a group of friends on the way to get drinks somewhere. She was accompanied by a single guy--a man who appeared to be perhaps a few years older than her; tall with very short blonde hair, a light stubble on his well-cut jaw, blue eyes. Effie was dressed much more seductively than her normal work attire. A very short pinstriped skirt was almost completely hidden under her jacket, with knee-high boots hinting at her long, sexy legs.

  Effie didn't exactly link her arm in his, as they walked to the curb and he flagged down a silver taxi that had its green sign lit. Yet there were lots of smiles, lots of laughter, and plenty of flirting. It ignited the fires inside Jens's chest to watch her with him. She liked him, that was clear enough. Was this the man who made her panties damp?

  He thought he'd feel jealous--but it really wasn't jealousy. He didn't feel anger that Effie was interested in this guy. He felt happy for her, that she might get to experience a normal sex life, and that this guy would make her feel good about herself. That maybe he'd even help her with the next step in putting distance between herself and her past trauma.

  It was a little difficult keeping up with the taxi in all that early evening traffic heading across the harbor into the city center--and, a couple of times, he nearly thought he'd lost them, that suddenly his eyes had switched to a different car and they'd driven off. But then they headed north, past the royal palaces of Amalienborg and back down to the water, where a single-story building housed a restaurant by the quayside. Jens paused long enough to make sure they went inside, then went off to find somewhere to park.

  'I know that place,' his therapist said. 'Toldboden. You followed them inside?'

  'I did,' Jens nodded. 'It was a pretty lively place, a lot of people sitting outside, drinking, eating. Enough people around that I could be there and not be noticed.'

  'You were okay there? I mean... all those people.'

  'It wasn't too bad. I was surprised. I think I was so focused on tracking them... but I do always have my eucalyptus oil with me.'

  The truth was, he hadn't been able to stay too long. Even with the eucalyptus oil blocking out most the smells, he wasn't comfortable being there. Every time someone passed by him, he felt nauseous. The smell of beer on the air -- and if he went outside, the marine tang in the air made him think of dirty ships and the industry located all around the harbor.

  And yet, for a while, it was worth it to be there--to watch Effie with her friend, continuing their flirtation, both of them obviously into each other, though, it seemed, at the very early stages of a relationship. There were a few touches, hands on shoulders, upper arms, and lots of eye contact, but at the same time they were being very courteous to each other, as if aware that they were co-workers, that if things went sour their work relationship would be affected.

  Jens felt proud, that another man wanted her, and yet she had married him. He felt a strange sense of altruistic generosity, that he had effectively allowed her to do this kind of thing, to explore a relationship with another man, without it destroying their marriage.

  But beyond the positive values, deep down he felt a powerful sexual excitement--he wanted Effie to experience this guy, to seduce him. He wanted her to have a good time, to enjoy herself, to get well and truly fucked. God, what would it look like, to see her with him? To see them in bed together, exploring each other?

  He coasted on his sexual excitement for a while, but it couldn't distract him forever. After a while, he felt a headache coming on, and as he became more accustomed to the sight of Effie flirting with her friend, he started to feel the nausea in his stomach more and more. The aroma of beer and frying food in the air made him feel queasy.

  Outside, he found his car, and waited there for a few minutes in case the two of them came back out of the bar. When they didn't come out, he figured it was time to head home.

  'Well that wasn't so bad,' the therapist said. 'You were just checking up on her. Making sure she was safe.'

  'I was stalking her,' Jens said. 'I know I was.'

  'It made you feel bad?'

  'It made me feel guilty, I guess. Like, if I was unhappy with her doing this thing behind my back, why was I doing something behind hers?'

  'So that was the end of it?'

  'Not entirely.'

  Back home, he'd showered and had his dinner, and put on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants. He'd felt an odd brightness, a natural high, to think that Effie was still out with her friend. And the longer she was out with him, the better Jens felt--the more exciting it was, although he did miss her. He felt certain that the longer she was out, the more chance there was that her date would be successful, that perhaps she'd go home with him, that perhaps she'd even sleep with him.

  Jens went up to the swimming pool for a little exercise to distract himself. The cool water was good for calming him down. Afterward, he pulled himself out of the pool and headed into the men's changing room to dry himself off, shower and put his clothes back on. A quick check of his phone made him disappointed: she'd sent three text messages to him, stating that she was on her way home, that she figured since it was late that he might be asleep, that she'd go take a swim rather than taking a shower that might wake him up. Then she texted to say she was home, and heading up to the pool.

  Jens felt actual disappointment--it was only 11 o'clock. Surely that was too early for anything significant to develop with her date?

  Then, as he sat there contemplating her text messages, he heard the door of the women's changing room open. It had to be her--and yet he didn't want her to know he was there.

  'Why do you think that was?' his therapist asked.

  'I think... I didn't want her to know her date had thrown off my routine. I might have to explain why I was behaving differently.'

  'You might have revealed that you knew about her date?'

  'Something like that.'

  He listened to her changing--in the stillness of the pool area, he could hear a surprising amount. The rustle of clothing, the snap of the stretchy lycra as she pulled on her swimsuit. He had crept to the exit of the men's changing room, peering out just far enough to watch her walk out of the women's room in her black and pink one-piece swimsuit, pausing on the edge of the pool.

  He caught his breath seeing her, how good she looked in that suit. They rarely swam together, they never went to the beach. He didn't get to see her like this.

  His cock was thickening up again, just seeing her like that. Watching her hold up her arms above her head, bend her knees, lean forward and then dive gracefully forward into the blue water. Following her streamlined form as she glided through the water, almost to the other end of the pool before she came up for air.

  He watched her swimming, and then after a long while he watched her climb out of the water, at the steps over the other side of the pool.

  When she went back into the women's changing room, he was preparing to escape--she'd rinse off, and put on her nightwear up here, so he'd have enough time to get down there, to make it look as though he'd been asleep all the time. But he heard her stripping off her swimsuit, and it stopped him in his tracks. He found himself picturing her naked, and he wanted to stay. The shower was switched on, and she stepped under the water. He could hear her washing herself--she was very diligent about that. She knew how important it was to him--or at least, how
important it had been. Somehow, things were different now.

  He listened, and then caught a new sound. A quiet moaning. The sound of the water falling all over her changed, too. The moaning grew louder.

  Driven on by his curiosity, and his arousal, Jens took a few more risks than he would ordinarily have done. He slipped silently out of the men's changing room, along the end of the pool, and then into the women's changing room. The sound of Effie sighing and moaning was louder still, and seemed to Jens quite beautiful.

  Inside the women's changing room, one locker sat open. In front of it was a pile of her old clothes -- including that tiny little pinstriped skirt, something he definitely would have remembered her wearing before. The locker held her folded up set of her nightwear, and a bathrobe.

  He looked around toward the shower, moving slowly, carefully, trying to avoid being seen. As with the shower in the men's room, this one was just a little tiled cubicle, with a plastic curtain drawn across. Jens crouched down on the floor and found he could see under the curtain to some extent, though Effie would not be able to see him looking from where she was, sitting up against the far wall, the water streaming all over her. He couldn't see a lot, but he could see she was sitting there with her legs apart, both hands down between her thighs, touching herself.

  Jens's cock hardened fully. He'd never seen anything like this before. Effie was masturbating in the shower. Wasn't it risky? Someone else could come by, wanting to use the pool. It wasn't very likely, but it was a risk. Was this something she did often? It made sense to do it here, where she would believe she was safe from her over-sensitive husband.

  He watched her a long while, so turned on by the sight of her, even if he could only see a fraction of her naked form under that shower curtain. Was she driven to do this by her date? It hadn't gone on long enough to turn into actual sex, but she was getting ready for a future date to do exactly that.

  Jens cast his eye on the pile of Effie's clothing sitting there in front of her locker. He moved over there, picked up her shirt. He pressed it to his face and breathed in her scent--oh, but it was irresistible. She was irresistible. It put the hairs on the back of his neck up, just like it did at work when they'd finally perfected a new fragrance and he knew it was just right.

  Underneath her shirt was a pair of panties. They were crimson, lacy, and unbelievably tiny. They were designed to impress, designed to be seen, designed to be peeled off her by an excited lover. Not Effie's usual kind of thing. She must have at least hoped that her date would lead to sex--Jens felt his hard cock throbbing at the thought. He picked up the tiny scrap of lace and found it soaking wet. She'd been so excited, no wonder she'd had to come back after her date and hide herself away to relieve her tension.

  Jens felt like touching himself, too, and that was rare for him.

  Cautiously he held Effie's panties up to his nose, and took a tiny sniff, the kind he took when he was dealing with a particularly powerful scent in the lab. Even so, he was nearly knocked off his feet by it--the spiciness, the muskiness, the underlying sweetness. He found himself thinking about how that luxurious lace had been wedged up against her pussy while she'd thought about whether she'd soon get to fuck her blond friend from work.

  Then he felt a jolt through his system, centering between his legs--a pulse of warmth and joy that for a brief moment made him feel utter contentment. When he realized what was happening, however, he recoiled in horror.

  His hard cock bucked once, twice, and then as it continued he felt the liquid rise inside, spurting out into his underwear, soaking through his sweatpants.

  Oh Jesus, no.

  He dropped Effie's panties, but it was too late. He was coming, powerfully, in his underwear. Mess went everywhere. Somehow he managed to stifle himself, to keep from crying out. He hated that feeling of wetness spreading over his crotch, the warmth quickly turning to cold as the warm come was cooled by the air.

  Silently, he made sure the pile of Effie's clothes looked as it had when she'd left it, and then he managed to escape before she caught him.

  'It did turn you on, though, didn't it?' his therapist asked him as he recounted the story.

  'It did. It was... too much. But I think I was so fired up anyway... I could just about cope...'

  'We've got to take it as a positive sign, haven't we?'

  Jens sighed. 'But I felt so awful about... about invading her privacy.'

  'Well,' the therapist smiled, and peered at him over the top of his spectacles. 'You're learning,' he said. 'You can be forgiven, perhaps, for a few stumbles, a few mistakes along the way.'

  'I'm not sure.'

  'The important thing now is, don't you think, to talk to your wife? Perhaps it is time to try even some tentative first steps on the road to true intimacy between you.'

  'I don't know...'

  'You can try, can't you? I mean, now that you've developed this new desire for her, and you've discovered a new tolerance for her physicality and the outward evidence of her sexuality.'

  'I don't know how,' Jens said. 'I never learned how...'

  'Talk to her,' the therapist said, and it seemed so simple to him. Jens envied him his simplified world.

  'But I... I want her to keep dating her new guy...'

  He felt embarrassed. There was something wrong with him--he'd always known that--but now it was something truly humiliating, something that might poison his relationship with Effie for good.

  'Well, that is another issue, Mr Nielsen. Perfectly common, as it happens--particularly where husbands feel unable to fully satisfy their wives sexually.'

  'What is it?' Jens asked.

  'You're a cuckold.'

  Jens stared blankly at the man.

  'You enjoy the idea of your wife being unfaithful,' the therapist explained. The man's words seemed to explode as they hit Jens's ears. 'In modern practice, the term usually means that a husband is complicit in his wife's infidelity--he either knows about it, and does nothing to stop it, or else actively encourages his wife to commit adultery against him.'

  Right there in the therapist's office, Jens felt his manhood thickening up. Oh God. How embarrassing. He shifted on the couch, trying to stop it, trying to avoid his pants tenting up in any obvious manner.

  He said, 'And you say... it's common?'

  The therapist nodded, and didn't appear too shocked. 'A lot more common than anyone in my profession knew about,' he said, chuckling. 'I guess it's taken the Internet to unveil its true scale--the Internet's wonderful ability to put people in touch with other people who share their proclivities.'

  'Is there... a cure?' Jens asked, feeling a little foolish.

  The therapist shook his head. 'It's just a fetish, Mr Nielsen. Some people might claim such a thing can be 'cured', but I don't think it can be. It's like some people used to think homosexuality could be 'cured'.'

  'So...'

  The man continued, 'It's nothing to be ashamed of, Mr Nielsen. Earlier theories suggested that the cuckold fetish was some form of sexual masochism, but recent thought puts it more down to some kind of escapism.'

  'Escapism?'

  'You are merely looking to escape to a simpler existence--you have difficulty satisfying your wife, so you fantasize about other men doing it on your behalf. You want to relieve yourself of the burden of your own perceived inadequacy as a husband.'

  'So what do you recommend I do about it?' Jens asked the man.

  'Well...' the therapist took a deep breath, 'it strikes me that you could do with a little medication to help with your overall anxiety.'

  'I don't like taking pills.'

  'I realize that--it's in your notes. But even so, I wonder if it wouldn't help you with the progress you are making. If you are truly interested in connecting with your wife, you need to cut out some of the fear factor in what is going on. You are clearly making some good progress in how you're coping with your condition... I think it's time to really push that forward.'

  'Yes,' Jens nodded, and felt
a strong desire for change--perhaps a careful use of medication could help him. Then he asked the therapist, 'and what do you think I should do about... you know... the 'cuckold' thing.'

  The therapist shrugged. 'I don't see it as harmful, Mr Nielsen. Talk to your wife, perhaps. Explain your feelings. Tell her of your newfound desire, but perhaps also that you still want her to spread her wings, as it were.'

  'You're saying I should let her sleep with her date?'

  'I'm saying you need to talk to her all about it, and both of you need to agree on a way forward.'

  Jens sighed. 'I think it may be a little late. She's on another date right now. I think she might sleep with him this time, anyway.'

  5

  Revelation

  Heading out of the therapist's office, Jens received a text update from Effie.

  (Effie): My friends are in serious party mood--think it's going to be a really late one tonight. You going to be okay if I stay out?

  He winced at her little white lie, although he knew it was necessary considering their current agreed arrangement. And yet, nevertheless, he also felt himself hardening again, even while simply walking down the street to his car. It was exciting, thinking about her being out there, dating again. About the possibility of her having sex. The therapist had been entirely correct about him liking the idea of his wife being sexually satisfied, without the burden of having to do it, and probably fail, himself.

  Reaching the i3, he uncoupled it from the charging point--the existence of which had entirely determined which therapist he was currently seeing--and texted back a simple reply:

  (Jens): Of course, sweetheart! You have fun, stay out as long as you like, as long as you're safe.

  What else was he going to tell her? Sweetie, please come home we need to talk about all this?

  (Effie): You're the best xxx

  No, he couldn't stop her date. This wasn't just about him making progress regarding her, this was also about Effie making progress in dealing with her own issues, and if she was about to sleep with a man for the first time in years, then she was making serious progress. He didn't want to derail that.