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?"
