The Affair

The thirtyish-something couple entered the trendy Knoxville café on a sunny, spring Tuesday. It was a little after 1:30, and the lunch crunch had eased so there was ample seating. The woman steered them to one of the tables along the side window that looked out over the adjacent pedestrian square. The window was heavily tinted which blocked the bright afternoon sun and kept the cafe's interior shaded and cool.

"This will do," the woman said quietly.

The man took the seat looking out onto the square, and the woman sat on his right. A waitress scurried over bringing water and menus. The man said, "Just a cup of coffee for me, thank you."

The woman added, "I have to leave in a few minutes; I'll just have water."

They were an attractive couple. Both were slim, tanned, and athletic. The man, Jerry, was somewhat shorter than average with a lithe build, short, black hair, and dreamy dark eyes. He was a computer technology consultant earning a comfortable six figure income. The woman, Emma, was about the same height with shoulder length chestnut brown hair, and hazel eyes. Today she wore a teal sheath dress with a deeply scooped neck, revealing some cleavage. With the teal color her hazel eyes were a dazzling combination of amber and green. She was a professor of English literature at a local, exclusive women's college. The two had been married about five years now.

Jerry asked, "Well, do you see him?"

Emma looked intently across the way, searching. The lounge for a boutique hotel where she was scanning was directly across from them on the other side of the square. On this warm spring day, the lounge's sliding glass side doors were all fully open. A fistful of bar patrons were scattered along the inside bar and at a couple of the half dozen tables clustered on the square itself.

Emma shook her head, "No, not yet. We are early, though. I said I would meet him at 2:00."

Jerry looked at Emma intently and asked quietly, "Are you really sure you want to go through with this?"

Emma turned her gaze on Jerry, nodded, and replied steadily, "Yes, I am sure, quite sure."

Jerry's jaw muscles tightened with frustration. He blew out a breath and said irritably, "Fine, but there really is no reason for me to stay."

Emma answered patiently, "Jerry, we have been through this already I did as you wished; now it is your turn."

The waitress brought Jerry's coffee providing a brief distraction. Jerry took a sip and then stared stonily out onto the square.

His mind was awhirl. He and his wife had mutually decided to spice things up in the bedroom department a couple weeks ago. Each was to pick a sexual fantasy - no holds barred, anything could be tried. The other spouse was to help make the wish come true. The come-to-life fantasy game seemed like an exciting idea at the time; now he was having second thoughts.

Jerry's fantasy choice had been to have a menage a trois with his wife and another woman. Emma had fanned herself in mock shock when he announced his selection but said she had an idea how to arrange it.

Sara was one of Emma's friends at the college and was married to a much older man. Emma was aware that her friend pursued occasional carnal amusements outside of the bonds of matrimony, so Emma recruited Sara to help fulfill Jerry's fantasy. The weekend before last, the three of them had spent a passionate Sunday afternoon together fulfilling Jerry's fantasy.

Emma delayed selecting her come-to-life fantasy, saying she was still debating between a couple of provocative options. Last Friday while she and Jerry were having a glass of Chardonnay at the University Club, Emma finally announced she wanted to have an affair for her fantasy. Not only that, she expected Jerry to accompany her and wait for her while she consummated the affair.

Now as they sat at the café on the verge of executing Emma's fantasy, Jerry remained nonplused by his wife's startling scheme. He turned to look at Emma and leaned forward saying in a low, hoarse whisper that those around them could not hear, "Why in God's name would you ever select having an affair? Am I not enough for you? What am I doing here?"

Emma smiled patiently and repeated a conversation they had obviously had several times before, "Honey, This is not about you. This is my fantasy; it has nothing to do with you. I want to do it just for the pure excitement of the illicit sex, something absolutely naughty and outrageous. There is something terribly exhilarating about tasting the forbidden fruit, breaking civilization's taboos, or whatever you want to call it. To openly and scandalously fuck a man other than my husband has had a fiery hold on my imagination since adolescence. It just turns me on."

Emma leaned over and patted Jerry's hand, "You are a great man in bed; all I need. But I humored you in your fantasy; please humor me. It means a great deal to me."

Jerry sat back with a scowl waving his hands in surrender, "Ok, you win."

Emma took a deep drink of her water, "Look, adultery has always fascinated me. I did my PhD dissertation on the role of adultery in the literary novel. It is certainly a rich topic area. All the great authors deal with adultery in their works: Tolstoy, Shaw, Bronte, Lawrence, Austen, Irving, and the list just goes on and on.

"It matters not whether we are great or small, we all struggle with our sexuality. The specter of adultery, be it ours, our spouses, or our parents, is ever-present. Adultery is intertwined throughout our civilization, society, history, and politics since time immemorial.

"Shoot, adultery even gets double billing in the Ten Commandments: once it is explicitly forbidden and once we are admonished not to covet our neighbor's wife. That's more press than killing, stealing, and lying got in the list of sins."

Emma leaned over and looked intently in Jerry's eyes. "Look at me; I am a fake. I did a whole 374-page dissertation on adultery in literature, I write scholarly papers about it, I give lectures about it, and I have contributed two chapters on adultery for literature books. Yet, I have never had an affair. I don't know what I am talking about. I am like the music teacher who doesn't know how to play an instrument."

Jerry shook his head and allowed himself a wry smile. "Sweetheart, you are not a fake. You are a well respected associate professor, who is also well ahead of her peers on the way to full professor. But if this fantasy is what you feel you need, fine. I am good with it. Not thrilled, but a deal is a deal."

Emma sat back smiling with relief, "Thank you for understanding, Dear. It really is important to me."

Still wearing his wry smile Jerry murmured quietly, "And part of this bizarre fantasy of yours is for your husband to sit across the square drinking coffee and reading the Wall Street Journal," Jerry waved the paper he was holding in the air, "while you go fuck another man across the way?"

Emma nodded and said, while smiling patiently, "I know it sounds crazy, Dear, but yes, that is what I want."

Emma gave a sigh of exacerbation, "Let me try to explain again. The real turn-on for me is to be wildly wanton and scandalous in my sexual misbehavior. Doing the naughty deed right in front of my husband, for all practical purposes, certainly qualifies in spades, don't you think?"

Jerry shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, it certainly seems so to me."

Emma smiled and whispered secretively, "There is another aspect, I have not discussed with you though.

"At school I am already dubbed "the sex prof," or worse, because of my scholarship on adultery. I have no problem with that. But I have also always secretly dreamed of having a red-hot, steamy reputation; you know kinda like Marilyn Monroe, Frida Kahlo, Madonna, or even Moll Flanders or Jezebel. It is an image I always craved, but never had the nerve to earn. Then along comes our come-to-life fantasy game. It took me a week to screw up my courage, but then, why not? It's now or never."

Jerry was stunned and murmured, "Really? I ... I find this an interesting, for lack of a better term, side of you of which I never dreamed."

Emma explained matter-of-factly, "Yes, really. Anyway, I handpicked this location for my affair. We are only two blocks from my college, and this area around the square is usually thronged with faculty and students. News of my affair will almost surely drift back and be the hot gossip on campus."

Emma nodded to the right saying, "Look there. You see those six girls sitting at the table up to the right in the square?"

Jerry looked in the indicated direction and spotted six coeds pulled up around a round table with books spread out about them with various drinks and snacks at hand. Presumably, they were studying together. Their animated conversation and periodic gales of laughter suggested more gossip than learning.

"Yeah, I see them."

"The tall blonde one that is waving her hands about, I am her thesis advisor. The two brunettes on her right are in my graduate course on the modern American novel. The others I have seen around but don't think I know them.

"And over there across the way, you see the man and woman eating a late lunch at the patio table at the restaurant next to the hotel? They are married. He is in the math department, and she teaches French.

"My behavior here today will not go unobserved or uncommented on," Emma concluded with a smug smile.

Jerry looked at her curiously and then said, "And this is what you want; for your students and fellow faculty members to see you as a ... I don't know what, some kind of wanton sexpot or maybe the brazen, thoroughly modern woman who does as she pleases without regard to society's conventions."

Emma nodded enthusiastically, "Exactly!"

Jerry thought quietly for a few moments. "Won't that impact your making full professor?"

Emma laughed, "Not anymore. Under the new rules of academia, a woman cannot be discriminated against because of her sexual misbehavior or anything else for that matter. Besides, we in the English Department have a certain avant garde reputation to uphold. It might even strengthen my application!"

The waitress came up and refilled Jerry's coffee and Emma's water. She asked cheerily, "Sure I can't talk you two into anything to eat?"

Jerry shook his head no and said, "No thanks."

Emma looked up at the girl and smiled, "You all have the best flan in town. Why don't you bring one to my husband to go with his coffee? Oh yes, and with cherries on top, please?"

The waitress grimaced, "We had a big run at lunch and are out. The chef is making more, but it will be a little while before they are ready."

Emma nodded and said, "That will be fine. My husband is going to wait for me here and read his paper while I tend to a few things."

After the waitress left, Jerry smiled at Emma and echoed, "Cherries? Tend to a few things?"

Emma smiled back and said, "Flan is a very sensual desert. And cherries as a reference to sex and sexuality have been in English literature since the 1600s. Its association with virginity is more modern. I thought the flan and cherries would be an appropriate treat for my husband while his wife tends to a certain thing of personal interest."

Jerry grunted, "I almost think you are getting a perverse pleasure out of bearding your husband in our matrimonial bed."

Emma replied thoughtfully, "Yes, I suppose I am. When I watched you and Sara going at it during our menage a trois, I was surprised by the jealousy and angry possessiveness I felt. I thought I was too sophisticated for that type of thing, but I wasn't. It was your fantasy, so I didn't make a fuss."

She smiled mischievously and whispered, "But today, the shoe is on the other foot. It is your turn to sit patiently and wait while another man fucks your wife."

Emma giggled, "What was good for the goose is even better for this gander."

Jerry chuckled in response and asked, "Whatever happened to that nice Methodist preacher's daughter from the sticks that I married."

Emma laughed, "Jerry, by the time you met me, I had long since become a city girl. Also, remember my mother was an English professor at the University Georgia. That was only 20 miles from where Daddy farmed and preached."

Jerry cocked his head and looked at Emma speculatively saying, "Am I to understand your Mom, my revered mother-in-law, has the same proclivities as my wife?"

Emma feigned shock and laughingly replied, "That is an improper question, if I ever heard one. Such information is a closely guarded mother-daughter secret."

Emma winked at him, "But Mom and I are a lot alike, and things could get mighty dull for Mom out on the farm. I'll leave it at that."

Emma switched her gaze across the way to the hotel lounge. "Ah, my afternoon entertainment has arrived."

Jerry followed Emma's gaze, seeing a tall, solid man of maybe forty. He was muscular, athletic and well proportioned with sandy, blond hair. Emma had previously resolutely refused to identify her lover-to-be, replying only "you'll see" to all his inquiries.

Jerry recognized him. His name was Jackson Black. He had been a well known running back for the Tennessee Volunteers and went on to play six years in the pros. He came back to Knoxville and opened what became the biggest car dealership in the region. He raked in the money and had opened a second dealership in Chattanooga a few years ago. His TV ads and billboards made him a well-known face about town and in the surrounding area. He was also a notorious womanizer and had been through two divorces. It was probably a good thing he had been raking in the money as those divorces had left his exes well funded.

Jerry looked back at Emma and found her watching him with a smile and twinkling eyes.

She giggled girlishly and might have even blushed a little, "He has a very naughty reputation with the ladies, so I thought I'd see for myself. He's not a keeper, but he's certainly a suitable hunka hunka for a casual fling."

"Where in the world do you know him from?"

Emma shrugged nonchalantly. "Remember, I bought my last car from his dealership two years ago. He spotted me checking out cars and propositioned me back then."

She laughed and said, "I said no, but he gave me a really good deal on the car as an enticement to change my mind. Now, he hits on me whenever I am there having my car serviced. He and his family also donate a lot of money at the college so he is often a guest at college functions. We cross paths periodically."

Emma looked away from Jerry and stared across the square. After a few seconds she continued, "Every time he sees me, he tries to persuade me to hop in the sack with him. I've always said no but have shared drinks or lunch with him several times. Well, with this new fantasy game of ours, I just called him up on Friday and said yes."

Jerry knew Jackson's muscular good looks, abundant money, and fame as an athlete in a town obsessed with football pretty much meant he could have any woman he wanted. If only half the stories about him were true, he had cut quite a wide swath through the Knoxville women, both married and not. No man's wife's virtue was safe when this Casanova was on the prowl.

Now it turns out that for the last two years, Jackson was assiduously waging a prolonged campaign to get into his wife's pants. This hard-fought siege would finally breach the ramparts today. Jerry knew his wife was the willing booty to be enjoyed by the victor. The battle for his wife was already lost, and there was naught Jerry could do about it.

Jerry observed cynically, "Well, getting laid by Jackson ought to boost your reputation as a scandalous woman citywide. I wouldn't be surprised to see you two become quite an item on social media."

Emma stood up and said, smiling as she rose, "Yes, I am sure my students will tend to that. The gossip tongues will be clacking."

Emma blew out a breath saying with a tight voice, "I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous. OK Dear, I'm off."

With that, Jerry's wife left the café and marched with purposeful strides toward her rendezvous.

Jerry watched his wife as she headed across the square. Her four-inch heels displayed her shapely legs well. The sheath dress accented her lovely hourglass shape, and with each stride the fabric tightened emphasizing the wiggle of her delightful rear end. Her chestnut hair glinted in the sun and bounced fetchingly as she went. It was a delightfully erotic view of his wife.

Jackson caught sight of Emma when she was about halfway across the square and waved. Emma smiled and waved back.

Emma strode directly to Jackson at the bar, raised herself on tiptoe, and gave him an intimate kiss on the lips; the kiss of lovers, not of friends. After a minute of discussion, the bartender brought Emma a glass of white wine. Jackson already had a drink in a highball glass.

Emma led Jackson to one of the outside tables, and the two sat side by side. Emma was certainly not hiding her affair.

The two quickly were engrossed in conversation. Emma was quite animated, leaning toward Jackson, smiling and laughing lightly, patting his hand, and periodically stroking her hair. Jerry thought the big man was all but pawing the ground with lust to get at his wife.

Jerry glanced over to the table of students. They had not missed a thing. They sat there openmouthed in surprise as they gazed at their professor with another man who was a well- known local Don Juan. More shocking, their professor was openly receptive to the notorious satyr's attentions. The girls' surprise quickly dissolved into giggles and whispered exchanges as they ate up every move of the amorous couple. Cell phones came out, and pictures and videos were no doubt recorded. They would be posted on social media before the sun went down.

The two married professors eating lunch next door to the hotel had noticed Emma and her infamous companion too. They stared at the pair for a minute and then shifted to animated discussion accompanied by smiles and subdued laughter.

Emma and Jackson did not tarry long and finished their drinks in about ten minutes. They stood up and began walking toward the hotel entrance. Emma reached out and took Jackson's hand. She used her left hand, the one upon which, Jerry had noticed shortly before, she still wore her wedding and engagement rings from him. They walked quickly into the hotel and disappeared from sight.

Jerry had been watching at rigid attention and holding his breath during the adulterers' parade to the hotel. Now he slouched back in his chair and exhaled.

The waitress appeared by his side announcing pleasantly, "Here is the flan your wife ordered for you. I also brought you a fresh cup of our Costa Rican premium coffee we just brewed. These are great together."

Jerry mumbled his thanks as the girl left. He shook his head at his wife's perverse gift, whether in amusement or irritation he couldn't say, and cut into the flan. It was as delicious as Emma had promised.

As he ate, Jerry contemplated the flan. He could believe Emma's claim that it was a sensual desert. The smooth, creamy custard certainly brought to mind the silky, velvety flesh of his wife's thighs and stomach, and the cherries were simply the ripened ovaries of the flowering cherry tree with strong connotations of feminine sexuality. Unfortunately, another man was about to be partaking of his wife's equivalents, leaving him only the crumbs on his plate.

Jerry took a sip of coffee. The robust flavors complimented the rich desert well. The acidic, slightly bitter bite of the black coffee matched his disquiet over what Jackson was doing with his wife.

Finishing the desert, Jerry settled comfortably back in his chair and continued to sip his coffee.

He mused to himself, "Well Jackson, old boy, you two should be into the room by now. Did my wife do a seductive strip tease for you? The little minx is good at it.