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Clarissa By Alamo Preacher Session One. Clarissa was both the most interesting and the most unusual of my patients in a very long time. She would have insisted that she wasn't unusual, but, at least when she first began visiting me, I believed that she was probably unique. She was first referred to me by her own doctor, who believed that Clarissa's back-pain problems were psychosomatic, and had a mental, rather than physical cause. In fact, as it turned out, Clarissa had a spinal problem, and her back pain was entirely treatable with surgery, but when she appeared in my clinic I had been given the impression by the referral that she was suffering from some sort of stress-related illness. It was my job to discover what was causing the stress and advise Clarissa how to address it. That I failed to find the problem may make me seem like a very poor psychiatrist, but in my defence, Clarissa was a very unusual patient. What first struck me about her was her remarkable physical beauty. She was petite, but generously proportioned. She had what my Mother would have called an hourglass figure, and what a man would have called voluptuous. She was curvy, with large breasts and wide hips. She wore her hair either in a simple ponytail or a moussed and blow-dried wave. Her classic shape allowed her to carry off what would have looked tarty on many other women. Looking past her obvious appearance though, Clarissa had a kind of inner-beauty. She smiled a lot, and laughed easily. She was open and honest and, to use an old-fashioned word, charming. She seemed so well adjusted, that my first reaction was to discount her doctor's referral. Nobody this positive and happy could be suffering stress-related backache. To my credit though, I decided to try to look past this first impression and to dig a little deeper to see if there was anything in her life that might cause some sort of psychological inner conflict. In fact, this theory was entirely wrong, but at the time, I think I supposed that her sunny disposition was just too good to be true. Perhaps I liked her a little too. I have to confess that I enjoyed her company at our first session, and even a normal middle-aged heterosexual woman can be charmed by a pretty face and an easy smile. Of course, once I had dug a little deeper, I believed that I had found a mother-lode of potential problems and neuroses, but at first, Clarissa seemed like what she was, a beautiful, happy, newly-wed, with a sore back. My notes from our first session reflected my usual first analysis. She was twenty-eight, married for just one year. She worked as a photographer and had a seemingly happy home life. She and her husband had met at a camera club in college and shared an interest in filmmaking and photography. He was some sort of engineer - a web-designer and they had a small apartment together, which they'd bought just after getting married. She had no history of mental health problems nor had her husband. It was near the end of our session, when I'd begun to suspect that there was nothing to find and was considering the possibility that her problems were physiological rather than mental that I first noted something with potential. I'd asked about their lovemaking - wondering if perhaps in their newly-wedded ardour that Clarissa and her husband Gary had overstretched her back - perhaps in some odd position, and that her Doctor had missed this from being too coy about asking about such physical causes. Her answer was strange. And I underlined a word on my pad. "Allow." "Oh, no, I don't allow Gary to enter me like that. Or at least I haven't in a long time." "Allow?" "Well, yes. I mean, you're asking if maybe I'd thrown my back during sex? Well, no, that's impossible, or at least with Gary it would be. We haven't had penetrative sex in months." "With Gary." "Yes. I suppose I could have hurt my back, having sex with someone else, and to be honest, it does hurt a little when I'm on my back, but I haven't had a really good hard session with anyone in quite a while. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm having sex okay, but I really don't think that's the cause of my back pain." Of course, all kinds of alarm-bells were going off in my head at this. Sex with other men? After only one year of marriage? Not allowing her husband to have penetrative sex with her? It all seemed so incongruous, and out-of-step with her demeanour. She'd mentioned all this, seemingly in passing as if such things weren't unusual. She must have noticed my surprise. "You look shocked." "Maybe I've misunderstood you." I said. "Are you having extra-marital affairs?" "Well, I wouldn't call them affairs. I mean, obviously Gary knows what I'm doing, so they're not really affairs if he knows, but yes, I mean, I have an active sex life." "So, you are swingers." I said. She laughed. "Well, I suppose so. That's such an old- fashioned word though, like out of the seventies, and no, we're not really. I mean Gary isn't anyway. I wouldn't let him have sex with someone else. Or at least I haven't yet. But yeah. I swing." She arched her eyebrows when she said it and giggled. "I mean, I have sex with other men. But nothing rough, you understand. Nothing that would throw out my back, and definitely not recently when my back has been sore. I usually prefer either, you-know, doggy-style or else me on top, or cowgirl? You know what that means? Or oral - but I mean, I keep my back straight." I underlined "Allow" again, and added, "Multiple partners", "Denial of her husband" and "Swinging" "I see." She frowned a little. "I wouldn't have thought that that was so unusual, at least not these days. I mean, a woman being dominant in bed doesn't mean she's mentally unbalanced anymore. Nymphomania has been removed from the dictionary of mental problems, right?" "Actually, no, it hasn't. But you're right, it has a different meaning these days, and having an alternative sexual lifestyle doesn't necessarily point to some sort of mental problem, no. It's just a little unusual." She looked worried. "I hope you don't think that this has something to do with it, because I certainly don't think so. I mean, I've always had a lot of sexual partners, and my back pain has only recently started." "Just since your marriage." "No. I mean, yes, since then, but not straight after, just in the last three to four months, and we've been married for just over a year." "And how soon after your marriage did you start, or restart to have multiple partners?" "No, that's not it. I mean, I didn't stop, or restart, I had several partners, before and after the wedding. Like, even during the honeymoon, so there wasn't something different that prompted the back pain." I underlined "Honeymoon" and added an exclamation mark. We were coming to the end of the first session. I made a decision. "You're probably right. But clearly there's something causing your back pain. Since Dr. Kendon hasn't been able to come up with a physical cause with all these tests." I indicated the pile of papers and printouts that had come in Clarissa's medical history file. "Then we ought to explore some more possibilities. We were always unlikely to come up with something in this first session, so I think we should look at scheduling a series of further sessions, maybe even with your husband too if necessary." She regarded me suspiciously. "You think it's the sex, right. I wish I hadn't mentioned it now because I really don't think that's it. It could be something stressful, but I mean, our marriage is really great. I love Garym, and he loves me. Just because we have a slightly unusual sex life doesn't mean that that has to be the cause of the pain. I mean, wouldn't I feel anxious about it if it were causing stress." "Probably not, but usually in these cases the stress is lifestyle related - it doesn't have to be sex, but maybe something else in your relationship, your job, your family life. I'm not going to draw any conclusions after just one session." She seemed a little more convinced. "Okay." She said. "I suppose if we need to talk more, I can keep an open mind." "And so will I." We arranged some further sessions, and she left, still a little dubious I thought. Of course, I was convinced it was sex, and that the problem was related to repressed guilt at her cuckolding of her husband, which manifested itself as back-pain so that she was unable to have sex in the missionary position - the classic married couple sexual position. Any therapist would have drawn the same conclusion, despite what they might say about keeping an open mind and exploring different possibilities. Should I have come straight out with this theory? Probably not, since Clarissa clearly harboured a lot of denial along with the guilt. A classic case. I made a note to consult the literature on marriage and infidelity guilt before our next session. Occasionally, I discussed some of my cases with my own husband. He was a medical doctor, and I often valued his opinion on cases, not as a doctor, but as a man. Not for any particular reason, I found myself mentioning this case to him while we lay in bed the following Sunday evening... "I can understand it, yes." He said. "Which? The denial of sex or the extra partners?" I asked, a little surprised at his casual acceptance of what seemed, to me, to be pretty way-out sexual practice. "Both. Really, they're related. I'm surprised you find it so surprising. Isn't this fairly common?" "Well, perhaps, but not all that common. And, I suppose, what actually surprised me was that she didn't really seem the type. She wasn't vampish, or slutty, or what I imagine a Dominatrix to be. I mean, I don't expect her to be wearing a leather corset and carrying a riding crop, but she seemed so normal." "Well, there's two of them in it, this will be as much about him as her." I considered this. "You're thinking of bringing him in too, so you can check him out, aren't you." I was, but didn't like to admit it. "Be careful." He said, as he turned over to sleep. "These people may not need you poking about in their lives." "She's come to me for help, there's clearly something wrong." I retorted. "Give her a back-rub." Suggested my husband, muffled by his pillow. I smiled and put down my notebook. We occasionally joked about me sleeping with another woman. Dan had once confessed that he fantasised about me having a lesbian lover. I'd teased him about having such a chauvinistic, schoolboyish fantasy, but in fact it did intrigue me. I had had some almost-but-not-quite-lesbian relationships in college, and in fact, had had sex with another woman on a few occasions before I'd been married. I'd never actually told Dan about that, and felt that it was in my reckless past, but I had to admit to being intrigued, and a little excited about the idea of doing it again. I turned down the light and wriggled my arms around my husband. "Would you like to watch while I gave her a massage?" I asked, impishly, my hands snaking around his torso... "Mmmmmm." He murmured, sleepily, but I could tell he was awake. I moved my mouth to his ear and whispered. "You'd like to watch while we played with each other, wouldn't you?" "Mmmmmpffff." "She's really beautiful, and totally uninhibited. I wonder if she swings both ways?" He let out a little chuckle. I pressed myself against his back and moved one hand into his pyjamas, while I breathed hotly into his ear... "Imagine." I whispered. "You come home from the clinic early to find that I've brought my work home with me. We're in bed together, our bed. Clarissa Williams and I. You come into the bedroom to find your wife kneading this strange woman's breasts as she licks and caresses her between the legs with her eager tongue." He twisted around to face me, and I swung one leg over his body to sit astride him. He was already getting hard. I was enjoying this, feeling wanton and sexy. After ten years of marriage, things naturally were a little stale, we only had sex occasionally, and Dan sometimes couldn't get or maintain an erection. He didn't seem to have any trouble now though. I smiled down at him and leaned in close again. "You stand there transfixed as I just look up and smile at you, then lower my face to her pussy again and stroke her clit hard with my tongue and suck her between my lips." I slowly scooted down my husband's body, pulled down his pyjamas and, with a wide smile, slurped his cock into my mouth. He gasped and stiffened as I rolled my tongue around the head of his cock, gently sucking on him. "Oh, God, Jenny." He gasped. "Would you?" I was shocked at what he said. He probably really meant it. He often would admit things during sex that he wouldn't admit otherwise, but still, I was surprised. After tonguing him a little more, I released his penis from my mouth and moved up on his body again, lying on his chest. I kissed him, and wriggled myself back again, to find the end of his cock with my parted pussy lips. I found him, and nudged the tip just inside myself. I felt him try to buck himself more deeply into me, but moved forward to stay in control. "Ah ah ah." I admonished. "Not so fast. Maybe I want something else." "Jesus, Jenny, what? What do you want?" I brushed his face with my breasts. They were large and still in very good shape. My nipples gently caressed his lips. Understanding, he opened his mouth and swirled my nipples with his tongue. He sucked on me, first one and then the other, as I wriggled my sex against the straining tip of his cock. "Mmmmmm. Good girl." I said, as if this were Clarissa sucking on my breasts. For a moment I could picture her greedily fastened onto my breasts, could feel her tongue rolling my hard nipple against the roof of her mouth. "Aaaaaah." said Don. "Say it again." I looked down at him. What did he mean? Then I understood. This was a little kinkier than I'd been anticipating, but Don had got into his role a bit more than I had expected. "Good girl." I said again. The idea was a little silly, but I was enjoying myself immensely and Don seemed to be too, so I made an effort to go with it. "Mmmm. That's nice honey. Your mouth is so soft on my breasts. Now how would you like to go down on me?" He nodded vigorously and I rolled off him and scooched myself up on the pillows to lie back. He grinned at me and moved between my legs. I closed my eyes and imagined he was my voluptuous patient with the huge doe-eyes. He was gentle, slow and soon I found myself building towards a sexual high that I hadn't felt in a very long time. "Mmmmm. You like that don't you Clarissa." I said, surprising myself with how throaty my voice had become. "You make me feel so good." And it was true. This was great, better than any sex we had had in a long time. I resolved to try to do something for Don that he would really like in return. For the moment though, I savoured the feel of his mouth as he eagerly pleasured me, encouraging him, with moans of "Good girl" and "Sweet honey." every now and again. He was particularly attentive, and made no move to try to move up and mount me as I would have expected. That would have been okay too, but I was particularly enjoying being served like this, especially the slightly kinky fantasy of treating him like my girlfriend. As my orgasm built, I sat up a little and moved my hands to the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair and moaning my pleasure and delight to him. "Oh Clarissa, Oh yes, oh your sweet tongue, oh fuck yes, that's so good, oh my sweet girl, oh yesssssss." Like the newest and most attentive lover he swept me over the edge with his tongue and coasted me all the way down again, rubbing my throbbing clit with his fingers and kissing my thighs and belly as I subsided. I pulled him up to me and smothered him with kisses. "That was fantastic." I whispered to him. "I love you. Just as much as when we were first married. Thank you, thank you." I felt for his cock, and was surprised to find it just as hard as it had been, if not harder. He hadn't lost any of his erection, despite the fact that it had had little or no attention since he'd started to pleasure me. His hands had been kneading my breasts, so he couldn't have kept hard manually. "Oh no. Thank you." He said. "That was wonderful." "But you haven't come." I said. "Let me return the favour." He looked a little uncomfortable. "Jenny, actually..." He began, but broke off. "No, please tell me, you're so good to me. I want to give you something back." "It's okay, it's just, you know, what you were saying before..." I wasn't sure what he meant, but I suspected. He might have meant about actually asking me to sleep with another woman. That was out of the question. There was no way that I would do that for real, especially with him watching. I hoped that wasn't what he meant, but I was afraid he was about to blurt something like that out, which would be embarrassing for us both and would definitely spoil the moment. I had a flash of inspiration. Once before, he's also admitted that in the past he had tried on some of my lingerie. He'd been embarrassed about it, I didn't think he had done it that often, and I'd never acted on it before, but now seemed like a good time to try, especially if it would head off an embarrassing request that we would both regret later. "Wait right there." I said, and scampered off the bed. I opened my lingerie drawer and took out a few items, including a black satin slip. I brought them back to the bed and held the slip up to him. "Would you like to try it on?" I asked, with a smile. He bit his lip. His face seemed to go through an agonising contortion. I hadn't expected such a strong reaction to what was, after all, just a harmless piece of underwear. "Yes." he gasped at last. I smiled, trying to reassure him. I moved closer on the bed and kissed him, allowing the silky garment to gently fall into his lap. "Would Clarissa like to try it on?" I asked, again. He nodded, his face still working with emotion. I gathered it up and lifted it over his head. Don raised his arms and I let it fall over him. I smiled again, and pushed him back onto the bed. I straddled him again and showed him what else I had - a couple of pairs of nylon tap pants. I smiled again, holding up a black pair. "I think these would look good on you Clarissa." And I tugged them up his legs and over his rigid cock. "Mmmmm. Clarissa. They do suit you." I purred. I wondered if this was what he wanted. He seemed to be entranced, and his cock was certainly signalling that he was enjoying it. I smiled again and tugged his cock a little freer from the soft panty. I wrapped it in another pair, and stroked him slowly with them, while swirling my hand over his chest, caressing him through the silky slip. "Oh fuck, he gasped." "Oh Clarissa, you bad girl." I giggled and I felt his body stiffen in anticipation. I was amazed, only a couple of strokes and he was on the point of coming. This was a revelation. If it would encourage him to pleasure me like he had before I was only too happy to oblige. This was much better than the sweaty humping that we were both used to. I slowed my stroke and moved up towards him. "Does my girlfriend like when her Jenny strokes her?" I whispered, huskily. "Oh yes. Thank you Jenny." He gasped. "Mmmmm. You just let Jenny make you feel good." I murmured and resumed my slow strokes. I could tell how close he was to coming, and kept him teetering on the edge for several long, slow minutes. "I liked what you did for me before Clarissa." I said, as he twitched and strained beneath me. "I liked it too." He breathed between strokes. "Good. I think I like having a sweet girlfriend. One who likes to give as well as receive." I said. "Oh Jenny." He gasped. "I love you." I said by way of reply, and speeded my panty- covered hand ever so slightly. "Come on now Clarrie." I said. "Come for Jenny. Come for Jenny." And I felt him spasm and spurt into the waiting panties. Later, as we snuggled together, I asked him if he had enjoyed what we had done. "Oh God yes." He replied, emphatically. "I did too." I said. "You seemed very worked up though." "Well, it's kind-of embarrassing I suppose. I'm not sure how I feel about you seeing that side of me." I moved his head around to face me. "I love it, and I love you." I said, trying to sound as frank and sincere as possible. I had enjoyed making love with him like this a lot, and I didn't want him to feel ashamed or embarrassed about it. If he liked to wear my panties, I was perfectly happy, especially if it brought out his tenderer side. We fell asleep together, more satisfied and happier than we had in a long time. Session Two. Of course, I tried to put all this out of my mind before the next session with Clarissa. I decided that I would try to probe her early sexual experiences and see if there was any conflict there. Usually destructive promiscuity was rooted in low self-esteem, often caused by problems in early childhood. That's not to say that promiscuity was always a problem - someone with a high sex drive and an outgoing personality could have a very large number of causal partners and, if careful about STDs might have no ill effects. Clarissa's behaviour seemed a little extreme however. I wanted to understand her attitude to sex and how she felt about her own behaviour and see if she had some latent guilt or shame about what she was doing. If so, her continuation of a variant lifestyle after her marriage might cause her a lot of stress and manifest itself as a suitably difficult to diagnose illness, like back pain. Often, it can be difficult, even painful for someone to face up to conflicts in their personality or behaviour. I expected some resistance from Clarissa to discussing these matters, especially after my clumsy questioning at our first encounter. I planned to be firm but subtle and to get her to draw out her own problems with some guided discussion. So, I felt I was well prepared when she appeared for our second session, but when she walked into my office, seeing her again suddenly made me remember my fantasy with Don the previous Sunday night. My heart skipped a beat, my chest constricted, and I felt that familiar tingle between my legs. "Jesus, I'm in love." I thought. And she certainly looked lovely. Clarissa was wearing a short tartan skirt and tan pantyhose, with a classic white blouse. Her hair was in a ponytail and her face had only the faintest trace of makeup. She managed to make the simple outfit look unbelievably sexy though, and when she sat and crossed her legs, I found myself sneaking a glance at the soft line that formed between her thighs. She gave me a huge smile. "Hi Jenny." She said. "You look great." To my acute embarrassment, her disarmingly frank compliment made me blush. What was up with me? My professional manner had just dissipated as soon as she'd walked in. It was true though. I'd deliberately taken some extra time over my appearance this morning. I'd done up my hair, worn a more feminine skirt and jacket than usual, picked out my best jewellery and my most expensive scent. I'd kidded myself that I just wanted to treat myself with a bit of extra care and attention, but really, it was because I knew I'd see Clarissa today. "Thanks, you look lovely yourself." I replied, trying to cover my embarrassment by examining my notes, but probably just looking like an idiot. "Do you want me to lie down on your couch?" She asked. "Ehhh, no." I replied. "Actually, I never ask my patients to lie down, I think it makes people self-conscious. But if sitting at my desk is too formal, we could both sit there, if you like." By way of answer, Clarissa just got up and walked over to the couch and sat down. My couch was a low, soft affair. I'd spent quite a bit of money on it, when I'd first fitted out my office. I went over and sat down beside her, taking my notepad with me. Clarissa had sat at one end, but when I sat at the other, she half turned to face me, kicked off one of her pretty heels and tucked her stockinged leg beneath her. I tried to shake the inexplicable fluttering that started in my belly as I watched her do this. "Right. Let's get started." I said. "Just relax, and try to be as open and honest as you can. Some of these questions may make you uncomfortable, and that's okay, we don't have to talk about anything that you don't want to, just say so, and we can move on." She nodded. "So, Clarissa, tell me about your first sexual experience." It wasn't anything unusual, Clarissa seemed to have had a fairly normal childhood. She had been a bit of a tomboy, and got into trouble at school when she was younger, but there was nothing surprising in her early childhood or upbringing. She chatted away, elaborating on things I probed about, and I didn't get the impression she was hiding anything. In college, she'd had a lot of boyfriends. I asked if she'd ever been seeing two at the same time. There, she began to be a little more defensive. It came down to the question of what constituted a casual relationship. Clarissa had had a lot of casual relationships with boyfriends in college. Occasionally she'd slept with someone, but didn't feel that this automatically meant that she was in a monogamous, or exclusive relationship. She mentioned several times that she would make it clear to her partners that she wasn't "going out" with them, and said that usually boys were okay about that. "Was there ever a time when that was a problem? Say, a boy wasn't happy for you to sleep with someone else, soon after you'd slept with him? Or say, someone who was hurt when, even after sex, you weren't prepared to commit." "No. I mean, I can see how that could happen, but I'm always very careful not to hurt someone. If I liked someone, and wanted to have sex with them, I'd always make it clear first, that this was just a fun, friendship, kind of thing, and that it didn't mean that we would be exclusive." "And that always worked out okay?" "Well, yes. I can see how you might find that hard to believe, but I've been lucky, and careful too. Sometimes, someone will say that they would be okay with that, but you'd know. You know what I mean? You'd know that really, they wouldn't be okay. And then I wouldn't have sex with them. And sure, there were a couple of men, and maybe a couple of women too, that I suppose, developed a crush on me. I don't mean to sound big-headed, but I suppose you could say, I've broken some hearts, but I never got into a really bad situation with anyone, where they got really hurt, or got the wrong impression." "Okay. There's another thing I wanted to ask about too. I know, it may seem that I'm really harping on your sexual history..." "That's okay." "Okay, well, if you had a number of sexual partners in college, especially if they weren't one after the other, did you ever feel that you were getting a reputation? "A reputation?" "Yes, like other women or men saying things behind your back?" "Like what kind of things?" "That you were promiscuous, calling you a slut, that kind of thing?" She gave me a hurt look. "Do you think that I'm a slut?" "No. I'm not making a judgement, but people often do, and gossip can be hurtful." She didn't look convinced. "You say you're not making a judgement as if you're very detached, like a therapist should be, but what do you think? As a person? Do you think what I do is wrong?" I was easily able to keep my professional front in place. "No, but I can't imagine that your college friends didn't talk about you, and that you would have been unaware of that. You seem hurt now." "I am. You're insulting me, in a backhand way, it seems." I softened a little. "No, I'm not. If I am, I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you. I'm trying to find if there is anything in your lifestyle that might cause unhappiness, and this line of questioning seems to make you unhappy." "Yes. I'm not saying I'm perfect, or that the things that people say don't hurt. And yes, sometimes people would judge me or say cruel things about me, but not anyone I cared about, so I could just brush it off." "Okay. Let's talk about your husband." She made an effort to brighten up, but I couldn't help but feel that we'd lost a little of our innocence. "Okay, first off. Would you have any objection to his coming in to see me." "No. In fact I mentioned to him that you had said you might want to talk to him too already, and he was okay with that. Would that be alone, or with me there too?" "With you there. These sessions are about you, not him, really." "Okay." "Well, tell me a bit about him first." She talked about Gary easily, with all the enthusiasm and disarming candour of a newly-wed in the first flush of love. I found it hard to reconcile her description of this clever, funny man with someone who would be happy to let his wife sleep around, and not sleep with him. As she talked, she brightened more and more, talking about the time they spent together, and their plans for the future. Eventually, I tried to steer her towards talking about their sex life. "So, you said before that you don't have sex with him." "No, I didn't say that, just that I don't allow him to penetrate me. We have sex okay. You were asking before if you thought I might have hurt my back during sex." "Yes, I was. Okay, do you think he is satisfied by the sex you do have?" "Oh yeah. Of course, he's always telling me how happy he is. I mean, when I say I don't allow him, that's not really the full picture. I mean, he would want to, but it's a mutual thing, he likes to be denied. It's kind of hard to explain, but well, he likes me to be in control sexually, and not allowing him to enter me is like the ultimate control. What I mean is, if he really asked to make love to me, then I would, straight away. I love him." "So, you would say that he likes you to have a dominant sexual role?" "Definitely." "And would you say that you like to be dominant?" "Yes, definitely, with him." "And if this isn't too odd a question, whose idea was it to introduce the idea of denying him penetrative sex during your lovemaking?" "Well, that's a bit hard to say. I suppose the idea of it, the idea that he is submissive and that I control our lovemaking has always been there, but we have increased the level of that over time. I suppose it's a gradual thing, that we test out what we like and see how the other reacts and go with what is good." "And would the same apply to you taking other partners?" "Sure, obviously when we first met, it was pretty clear that Gary liked to be submissive and that I was very aggressive sexually, so it wasn't like a surprise, or something that came out of the blue. At the beginning when we were first going out together, I said to him, and I've said it since, that if he wants I would be exclusive to him." "And would you feel denied then?" "No. Not really. I mean, well, actually, that's an interesting question. I suppose, not any more than anyone who's in a monogamous relationship." "But you would give up having sex with other men." "And women." "You're bisexual?" "Sure. Didn't I mention that? I thought I did." "Actually, you were kind of ambiguous. You always refer to partners, or 'other people'." "You noticed that?" She smiled. "I did." "Actually, when you asked, would I feel denied if I gave up sex with other people besides Gary, I considered saying that I wouldn't if I had to give up sex with other men. Because, in fact, I wouldn't really mind that, but I think I would feel a little denied if I could no longer have sex with women." "Because you would miss, just being with other women?" "Yeah, kind-of. I mean, if I was only ever having sex with Gary, then I would be kind of missing out on a whole other side of my sexuality. It wouldn't be that big a deal. I could be happy with Gary, but I think I would miss sex with women." "That's interesting." "It is, isn't it. I'd never considered that before. Can I ask you something, I mean, like you say, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and you can just say so, but have you ever made love to another woman?" "I don't want to be unfair, but this session is about you, not me, so I hope you don't mind if I don't answer that." "That's okay. It's just that I like to think that I can tell when a woman is attracted to me, and you seemed to be, so I thought that I would just ask." "I'm afraid that's a little too personal, and obviously, the rules about therapists and patients..." "Oh, I'm sorry. Can we just forget that I said it?" "Sure. Okay, I just want to ask you one more thing. If you and Gary weren't together, and you were in a long-term relationship with another woman, and she asked you to be totally faithful to her, would you be okay with that?" "Well, I don't like the word 'faithful'. I am faithful to Gary now, but to answer your question, if I think I know what you're asking - I'd be okay with that, but I don't think I'd ever actually get into that kind of a relationship. While I am bisexual, I don't know that I'd ever really settle down with another woman. It would be too difficult. I want children, and there's such prejudice. Maybe I'm just not enough of a lesbian." "I'm sorry Clarissa, you said that you are faithful to Gary now? Surely if you sleep with other men you're not being faithful." "No. Being unfaithful means that you are lying to someone, and I don't lie to him, ever." I considered this for a moment. I was inclined to agree. The literal sense of the word was being untruthful, but I could not accept that her husband would see it like that. The core of my theory about Clarissa though, was that she was conflicted about her own behaviour. What Gary thought didn't really matter. She was so sure of herself, so confident. Was I wrong? Was there something else? "And what about your lovers? Do you ever lie to them?" I was fishing now, and I think she could tell. "No. Like I was saying before, I would never sleep with someone if I thought it would hurt them or me, so naturally, I would never lie to them. In fact, I make sure hey understand everything about me and my relationship with Gary. It's not actually that hard to find people who are okay with this kind of thing. Surely you know there are clubs and ways of contacting people of a like mind." "I suppose." I said. "Let's talk about Gary for a while." She warmed to her subject again, not hiding her simple happiness and pride in him. She repeatedly mentioned how gentle and caring he was. I asked if this was what had attracted her to him in the first place. "Mmmmm. No, I don't think so. In fact I think it was his honesty that attracted me. He's such a clever person, but he has no guile or deceit, which is unusual. At least that's what he's like with me." "Would you say that he's feminine?" "No, not really. I mean, he is effeminate, but that's not really the same thing." "Would you say that he's a sissy?" She laughed. "I'm sorry, that's such a prejudiced word, I'm just surprised you would use it." "Well, even so. You know what I mean by that." "Of course, and literally yes, I do say that he's a sissy. I think if you can understand that when I say that to him, it's a term of love and affection rather than abuse, then you can understand our relationship." I think it was around then, when she said that, that I began to have doubts about my diagnosis of her back pain. Unfortunately, our session was almost up. Mentally, I made a note to get a referral for a back specialist to have another look at her symptoms. However, I still wanted to go through with the session with both of them, and I arranged it with her for the following week. She agreed and we parted. I wryly noted that she grimaced as she got up from the sofa, her back was clearly quite sore. "Yes." She said. "I'm really hoping this therapy is going to help. I'm at my wits end with it, and it seems to be getting worse if anything." I told her I hoped it would help too and we parted. I'm not sure if it was Clarissa's frank description of her unusual relationship or something within myself that intrigued me so much. In any case, I couldn't help thinking about her all day. Even while in sessions with other patients, I found myself daydreaming about what their lives must be like. After my last session of the day, I found myself wandering off to imagine what it must be like when she deliberately slept with other men with her husband's knowledge. The idea both thrilled and shocked me, and I was annoyed with myself for allowing my professional senses to be so overwhelmed by these ideas. In the end, I decided that I would be better off trying to sate my curiosity, at least at an intellectual level, so I gathered what reference material on the subject as I could find in my office and went home early. At home, I made myself a snack and curled up on the settee with all my material to read as much as I could. I read a little about humiliation and submission as sexual activities, and a little on nymphomania and sexual aggression in women, all of which were rather dry, but then I discovered some case studies from the U.S. of domme-sub relationships within married couples. The studies were fairly recent and were sociological rather than clinical in nature. The more I read, the more intrigued I became. I made some notes, more from habit than anything else, but I would have to admit that I was reading more out of my own very strong curiosity rather than for professional research. I was still engrossed in my reading when Dan came home. For a moment I started guiltily, considering trying to hide the material I was reading. He may have noticed my guilty look, because he smiled down at me and glanced at one of the journals. "Psycho-sexual role-play as therapy." He read. "Hmmm. More research for your back- pain patient?" He asked. "Yes. Kind-of, although I'm beginning to think that her back pain is physiological, and that I'm wasting my time." "Well, wouldn't that be better confirmed by a back specialist rather than all this?" He quizzed. "Unless you're enjoying reading all this." "Oh please." I countered. "Can you really see me wanting to join some sort of swingers group where they swap wives with key rings?" He smiled. "Maybe not, but maybe I could see you getting excited by the idea of it." Maybe Dan knew me better than I realised. Even hidden in the dry prose of a psychological journal, the matter of fact descriptions of women taking dominant sexual roles and having multiple partners were tinglingly intriguing. I had to admit to being excited by it, but my reservations were numerous and immense. How could any loving relationship survive organised, open infidelity. It just flew in the face of everything I believed. "Well, we're going to dinner with the Andersons this evening. If you want to do some practical research, there's no better place." He said. I laughed. The Andersons were old friends, and old- fashioned in seventies liberal kind of way. Dan and I had often joked that we though Frank and Lily practised some sort of wife- swapping activity. They certainly had both had affairs over the years and gave the impression of having rather a loud and dissipated lifestyle. Not that there was any actual evidence that they had anything other than a totally normal suburban existence. Later, after we'd had a light snack and were getting ready to go out, Dan came up behind me as I sat at my vanity, half-dressed, putting on my make-up. Daringly, he put his hands over my breasts, fondling them through the lacy half- cup bra. I felt a little stirring as he looked into my eyes in the mirror. "Don't. You'll mess my make-up." I said, reflexively. He moved his hands away, sheepishly, and for a moment I regretted brushing him off. I was a little aroused. Maybe it would have been good to make love before going out. I'd chosen rather sexy lingerie and a figure-hugging dress and was applying a lot of makeup. Maybe all the reading had had more of an effect on me than I though. But as Dan moved off, rebuffed, with a flash I knew that what I'd really wanted was for him to continue to fondle me, arouse me more, despite my protests. With a shock, I found myself imagining the same situation, but with Frank. Him cupping my breasts roughly, unzipping his fly. The sudden image was so arousing, and yet so disturbing that I gave a little cry. "What's the matter." Asked Dan, turning, back. "Nothing." I replied and went back to my makeup, angry with myself and trying to concentrate. Dan remained pretty sheepish as we finished getting ready. I knew he hated to make advances and then to be rebuffed, so just before we left, I surprised him by putting my arms around him and kissing him wetly on the mouth. I let my tongue swirl into his mouth and lap at his own tongue. He responded and I felt his cock press against my belly through our clothes. I broke the kiss and whispered huskily in his ear. "You'll get your chance to see me in my lingerie later." I don't know what must have been going through his mind, but for some reason, he seemed to misunderstand me that I was intending something to happen later that evening at the Anderson's, and not later tonight in our own bed. "What do you have planned Jenny?" He asked, excited and shocked. "Is this why you're so dressed up? I thought you had something planned from the way you were acting." He seemed really pleased and excited. After the little incident earlier, I didn't want to disappoint him, and I found myself saying. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see." He nodded and kissed me tenderly. "Okay, whatever you want." He said and headed out the door to open the car. Session Three What the fuck have you got yourself into now? I asked myself. Clearly Dan thought that we would sneak off somewhere at the Andersons and have sex in their house. Okay, it might be exciting, the thrill of perhaps being caught or maybe people just guessing what we were up to, but really, I wasn't that excited by the idea. Still, if Dan was into it, I didn't what to disappoint him. Maybe we would find somewhere where we could have a quickie and then come home again for a more imaginative session later on. In the car, Dan seemed tense and apprehensive, but really turned on. I enjoyed teasing him a little by hitching my dress slowly up my thigh, revealing more and more of my legs in their tan pantyhose. I knew he loved glancing at my legs like this, and I liked him doing it too, if I was a little turned on myself. We drove in silence, but our minds on each other. The more I thought about doing it at the Anderson's, the more turned on I became, and I began looking forward to dragging my husband off to have sex. Clearly he was expecting me to take charge and I liked the idea too. By the time we arrived at the Anderson's sprawling house we were both almost twitchy with arousal. As we walked up to the front door, Dan whispered to me. "Whatever you want to do, just do it. I'm sure I'll be fine with it. If I'm not, then I'll just say so and we'll go home. Okay?" That sounded a little unnecessary, but I agreed anyway. "I love you." I said as we rang the doorbell, and he mouthed, "I love you too." as Lily opened the door to us. The party was pretty full already, mostly with people we knew or vaguely knew through Frank and Lily. We drank a few cocktails and chatted with the other guests who were spread out over the various rooms. It could have been the gin and tonics or our own arousal but there seemed to be something of an atmosphere at the party, some sort of frisson or tension. I mentioned this to Frank, and he winked at me. "Come on Jenny, it's just bit of Coke. Some of the guys here have brought a little. Would you like some?" I shook my head. I rarely took drugs, although I had when I was in college. Dan never did, being a doctor made him a little cautious in that area. In any case, I didn't think it was just that that was making everyone so animated and wide-eyed. I met up with Dan in the hallway. He was talking to Andrea, one of Lily's friends. He caught my eye as I approached. "Guess who's coming to the party." He said, a twinkle in his eye. I just looked quizzical - with Frank and Lily, it could have been anyone. "Clarissa Jones. Your patient." "Ahhhh." I was momentarily surprised. "She's a friend of mine and Lily's actually, Jenny" Said Andrea. I was talking about her back pain with your doctor husband to see if he could recommend a good orthopaedic specialist and he mentioned your patient and then we realised we were talking about the same person. "I see." I said. "You know Dan, my patient's details are supposed to be confidential." "Oh, I know honey, but it was an honest mistake. I had no idea that Andrea would know her and I didn't mention a name until she did." "It's okay, I'm sure. So, how do you know her?" I asked Andrea. For a moment, she looked a little unsure how to reply. "Well, I suppose I know her through my husband..." She said, looking at me closely. I glanced at Dan, who was looking at me at the same time. In an instant, we both knew what the other was thinking, except that what Dan and I had said to earlier now seemed like a big misunderstanding. Dan must have put two and two together while he was talking to Andrea and come up with five or twenty five. Before I could even think what to say, Clarissa, and a man who I presumed was her husband, Gary walked into the room. She saw me immediately, and again, I was surprised by the glow inside me when she gave me a big open smile. She came straight over to us. "Dr. Reid! I had no idea that you knew Frank and Lily." She said. "It's great to see you outside your office." She seemed genuinely delighted to see me, and I had to admit that I was also partly delighted by her too, even if it did mean a complicated misunderstanding between myself and Dan. Andrea did the rather unnecessary introductions. I could see her confusion as she tried to gauge our reactions to each other. Clearly she imagined myself and Dan too staid and conventional to be part of Clarissa's intimate circle of friends, but she could tell that something more was going on between us. Thankfully she didn't hang around for long but went in search of a drink once she'd finished. Clarissa and I chatted, a little uneasily at first, but she was so charming that soon I was engrossed in her company. She knew a lot of people at the party and nodded and waved to a large number of people as we talked, but I was pleased that she didn't seem to want to move out of our company. Actually, Dan and her husband seemed to be getting on well too. We'd drifted apart from the men and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they seemed to be talking quite earnestly about something. As I glanced at them, I caught Dan's eye. I had no idea what he was thinking, but a memory of the little fantasy we'd played out the other evening popped up in my mind and I blushed. "Oh, Jenny, whatever are you thinking?" Said Clarissa, noticing. I smiled back at her, a lump rising in my throat. It was crazy, but I was a little drunk and I felt so close to her that I desperately wanted to tell her. "Ehhhh. I think my husband may have got some sort of idea about us." She raised an eyebrow, and I found myself telling her about what we'd said earlier and how I'd thought he wanted to sneak off somewhere here, but that now, I suspected that he thought that I intended for something to happen between us. "Between us?" Asked Clarissa, a little confused. "You mean you and me? Or between me and your husband." I bit my lip. What the hell was I saying? The words have come out in a sort of a rush. I regretted it immediately. "Oh. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry. Can we just forget it. I'll talk to him and clear this up. I'm sorry. I think I'm a little drunk." She smiled at me, and for a moment, I desperately wanted her to put her arms around me. "You meant you and me. Didn't you?" She said. "It's okay. I could kind-of tell earlier. I know, there's more than just your own shyness to overcome - there's all kinds of rules about psychiatrists and their patients isn't there?" "Yes. Yes there is." I said, the tightness in my chest easing just a little. For a moment, I was a little deflated. I hadn't really considered that. I couldn't have sex with Clarissa, even if I'd wanted to. The thought struck me that Dan must have realised this already. Then what was he thinking? I frowned. Did he think that I was going to let him sleep with her? I wasn't sure about how I felt about that. I looked over at him. Still in deep conversation with Gary. What were they talking about? "I have to admit that I told Gary about you." Whispered Clarissa. "What did you tell him?" I asked, still watching Dan. "That you were lovely. That I wanted to sleep with you." She said, kind-of matter-of-factly. My heart pounded in my chest. "Do you think that they're talking about us?" I asked. "I'd place any amount of money on it." She said. I laughed, the tension broken for a moment. She put her hand on my bare shoulder. "Go. Rescue your husband and see what his imagination is up to. I'll mingle a little and we'll meet up later. Remember, even if something is forbidden, it's not wrong to imagine it what it might be like and fantasise." And with a wink she was gone, lighting up the room as she went. I wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but I crossed back to our husbands and broke into their conversation. I made small talk with Gary for as long as was polite and then took hold of Dan. "Sorry Gary, I need to talk to my husband for a minute." "Sure." He said. "I'll catch up with Clarissa. See you both later." He seemed very nice actually. I thought, not effeminate at all. I steered Dan into a corner. "What were you two talking about?" I asked. "It was kind of weird." He said. I told him that we were friends of Frank and Lily's from way back and he seemed to assume that we were swingers of some kind. I tried to tell him otherwise but I'm not sure that he believed me. He told me that Clarissa regularly sleeps with other guys. It was sort of hard to get him to talk about anything else and besides, I could hardly tell him that I knew about them already. What were you two talking about?" I suspected that I wasn't getting the full story from Dan but I didn't want to cross examine him about it now. "I'll tell you in a moment. But first, tell me something. When I said about seeing my lingerie later, what did you think I meant?" I looked into his eyes, hoping that he would tell me the truth. "Really? I suppose I didn't know. Maybe that you would tease me while we were here. Flirt with other guys? Maybe that we might sneak off together to a bedroom. Probably that we would play out some fantasy tonight, hopefully involving lingerie. What did you mean?" I sighed, relieved. "Yeah, I don't know. Maybe something like that. Actually, probably not the flirting with other guys. I was worried that you might think that I knew that Clarissa and her husband would be here and thought that I'd intended something with them." "Noooo. I could tell you were surprised when you saw her come in. You looked stunned." He said. "But I think both Gary and I could tell that there was something going on between you. As we were looking at you both he said to me. 'You know, my wife swings both ways.' I swear to God, it felt like we were in a porn film. So, what were you talking about." "Ehhh. Could we maybe talk about that later?" "Sure. You're the boss. So, do you want to stay or go?" I considered leaving. What I really wanted was to have sex though. I wondered if we could sneak off somewhere. "Okay, I'm the boss." I said. I took Dan's hand and lead him upstairs. The Anderson's had a warren-like house with many bedrooms. I found a room that looked like a guest room and bundled him inside. I locked the door and roughly pushed my husband onto the bed. I smiled vampishly at him and shrugged my shoulders, allowing my dress to swish to the floor. "Okay, this time, you first and then I get you to do whatever I want at home." I knelt before him and unbuckled his belt as he stared at me, his eyes wide. "Eh, Jenny." he began, as I pulled down his zipper to reveal his erect cock encased in a pair of my black satin panties. "Oh my god." I said. "You sissy. You're wearing my panties." "You said it was okay." He said. He looked very embarrassed. "It's okay honey." I replied. "It's okay. You wear them if you want to." "And Jenny. I know what you offered. But if it's okay with you how about I eat you, and then I do whatever you want at home too. After all, you are the boss." "No." I said. "The boss says that we're doing it her way. You take your blow job like a good girl." I heard his breath catch at my words before I even touched him with my mouth. As I sucked him I remembered Clarissa's words - we could always fantasise. I wondered how Dan might feel about playing out the fantasy that had occurred to me about Frank. I wondered how I would feel about it. Soon Dan was on the verge of coming. I nodded to him, and he tensed. I felt the thick liquid jet against my tongue and fill the back of my mouth. I smiled at him as I swallowed and then tucked him back inside his panties. Then I stood and put my arms around him, let my face drop onto where his neck met his shoulder and my hair cascade around me. I nuzzled him lovingly for a minute, absorbing his warmth and letting my scent envelop him. When I released him I noticed tears at the corners of his eyes. I smiled at him and wiped them away, then wordlessly took his hand and led him back to the party. As we rejoined the bulk of the guests in the main living room, we met Frank. "Hi Jenny. You look like the cat who got the cream." He said, with a wink. "Poor Dan looks a little dazed." I must have been a little flushed already and my blush let him know that he was right. "I saw you talking to Clarissa earlier. It must be her influence that has you breaking out of your usual mould." "Clarissa is a patient of mine actually." I retorted. "So, I don't know what you can possibly mean." Frank's grin nearly split his face. He pointed towards a glass-covered painting to my left. I looked at it and frowned, and then saw my reflection with a shock. There was dribble of Dan's come on my lower lip, as clear as day. I quickly wiped it away with a finger and without thinking, sucked my finger clean. I glanced at Dan. He just shrugged, he hadn't noticed till now since he had been walking behind me. Frank tried to get his grin under control. "Now Jenny. Don't think too badly of me. At least I pointed it out. Everyone else you walked past on the way here noticed too, but they didn't say anything." I shuddered with embarrassment; I must have walked past a dozen people, some of whom knew me quite well. I hadn't noticed any odd glances, and I was sure Frank was exaggerating, but it was pretty likely that some had noticed and guessed what the goo on my chin was. Frank was still regarding me with some amusement. "So, seriously Jenny. Are you becoming part of Clarissa's circle? More important, is Dan going to be part of Gary's?" Christ. The rumours had started already. "Frank." I said. Trying to get some steel into my voice. "Clarissa Jones is a patient of mine. I can't discuss her private life, even if she is a friend of yours. I'm sorry, it's not just an excuse to stop you from trying to embarrass me further, but you understand that I cannot talk about my patients." He sighed. "Well, that's our loss, I suppose. But presumably she won't be a patient forever, so maybe some other time, eh?" And, before I could think a good retort, he wandered off to annoy someone else. I turned to Dan. "Oh, come on Jenny. I doubt anyone noticed, and what's the harm? I know it's embarrassing, but it's not as if you were upstairs with Frank. My eyes flew open. "Dan. What are you saying?" I hissed. "I'm your wife. How can you even joke about such a thing." "Oh, lighten up Jenny." He replied. "It seems that everyone is doing it." He raised his eyebrows and indicated that I should look behind me. Iris and Ken, another mutual friend of ours were heading upstairs together. It was hard to see, but it looked like he had his arm around her. "No. They can't be. There must be some other explanation." "No. I think the obvious explanation is the correct one." Said Dan, taking a couple of drinks being proffered by someone. He handed one to me. "Okay, I did quiz Gary a bit. It seems there's about half a dozen couples in their group, with maybe as many again who are occasional partners. He was very casual about it. I asked him if he participates himself and he said no. 'Only through Clarissa', which I suppose means he gets some sort of vicarious thrill from her sleeping around." I gazed around the room, wondering who else might be part of this circle, perhaps people that I had known for ten or more years. Maybe complete strangers. My mind reeled. It seemed that I was just discovering a parallel world that had always been around me, but that I had just never been aware of. I took a sip of my drink and tried to get my head around it. At that moment, Clarissa and Gary reappeared. She looked kind of flushed. She smiled at me. "Did you see us coming up the stairs behind you before?" She asked. I shook my head. "No? I thought not, you looked kind of intent." She giggled. "I think we must have had the same idea as you about the same time." I raised my eyebrows again. They were getting quite a workout this evening. "Yeah. And that's not the only thing we have in common." She whispered. "Gary told me that Dan told him that he's wearing your panties. Snap. Gary's wearing mine too." She smiled conspiratorially. I glanced over at Dan. He had heard what Clarissa had told me. He looked at me guiltily and blushed. Again, I suspected that there had to be something more that he was holding back. Clarissa whispered again. "I knew that he shouldn't have told. You know, when Dan annoys me, he gets a spanking. Even though he loves it, it's surprising how it keeps him in his place. Do you ever spank Dan?" I almost spilled my drink with shock. "No!" I said. "What do you think I am... I would..." But I realised immediately that she was just teasing. "Oh, I'm sorry Jenny. But you're just too easy to send up." She became earnest again for a moment. "But seriously, you should consider it. I'm usually a pretty good judge of men, and I would bet any money that your husband would love you to do it." "But I couldn't." I said, discovering the doubt in my voice, even as I said it. "Maybe not." Said Clarissa. "And obviously, if you thought it was wrong and wouldn't enjoy it, you shouldn't. But it doesn't have to be hard. Not painful at all. It's the act of doing it that is the erotic part. I've never hurt Gary. I'm not sure he can even feel it, I do it so gently. Just a pat really. Here, let me get you something." She walked over to one of the bookcases in the room. While she was gone, I turned to the two men. I regarded Gary a bit more carefully. He looked so normal, quite handsome really, perhaps in a pretty way. He had very good skin for a man, and he obviously used an expensive conditioner in his hair. He caught my gaze and drooped his long eyelashes like a puppy. Is he wearing mascara? I wondered. "I hope you'll be able to cure Clarrie's back. Dr. Reid." He said to me, meeting my gaze again. "She says you would like me to come in to see you with her during the week. I hope it will be of some help, although I really think her back pain is due to posture rather than anything else." "Well, we'll see." I said. For a moment I was lost for a topic of conversation, despite all the things I knew and wondered about this man. Dan broke in. "Actually, if Jenny doesn't mind, if this doesn't work out, you can give me a call and I'll see if I can arrange an appointment with a good Orthopaedic surgeon I know. Dr. Grasse - he's a German, works at St. Helen's. I could bump the queue for her if you like." "Oh that would be great..." Started Gary, but I was already breaking in. "Look, Dan. Clarissa is my patient at the moment, and I haven't formed a diagnosis yet. When I do, then she can decide on her next course of action. Till, then you can just butt out." "Sorry Jenny. Yes of course." Said Dan, and they both looked a little sheepish. I had been a little forceful, but nobody seemed to be taking my opinion seriously, and I was the professional in charge of the case for the moment. Clarissa was back. She had overheard my words. "That's it Doctor. You keep these two in their place." She said, jokingly. "Here's something for you to read. I'm sure Lily won't mind you borrowing it. Actually, come to think of it, this is my copy that she borrowed from me." She handed me a book. The cover showed a seated female figure from a low angle, her stockinged legs crossed. The title was "Strong as Silk. A study of female dominance." I recognised the author's name as a practitioner, and reasonably well respected, although this kind of popular title wouldn't normally figure in my reading. "It's very good." Said Clarissa. "Although it's a bit too heavy on the psychoanalysis for me." I was about to refuse the offer, but Dan held out his hand. "Thanks." He said. "I have a pocket that it should fit in." And he put it into his jacket pocket. I looked around guiltily to see if anyone had seen the title, but no one else was paying us any attention. I relaxed a little. Dan and Clarissa started talking about the G.P. that she had been referred to me by, who he knew vaguely, and who had some amusing personal habits. The conversation drifted on further and I relaxed more. Detached, I found myself quite liking Gary. He was funny and sensitive, and I noticed the way he looked at his wife. They really were in love, almost like newlyweds. I could understand the attraction. She had a charm and grace that anyone would love, and I found myself jealous of her company, and looking forward to having her to myself again. Other partygoers joined us and the evening went on without further incident, until I found myself yawning and indicated to Dan that we should go. Frank and Iris tried to persuade us to stay, but the party was breaking up anyway, and Gary and Clarissa were yawning too. We said our goodbyes. Usually, I hated to be kissed on these occasions, but I found myself hanging back to say goodbye to Clarissa directly. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "Goodbye till later in the week, Jenny." She said and, sure enough, my heart pounded in my chest when she said my name. Session Four We didn't talk much in the car on the way home. I didn't know what Dan was thinking about, but my own mind was filled with a vigorous debate. On the one hand, I could no longer deny that I wanted to explore some more the new facets of my own sexuality, and Dan's that had come to the surface so recently. On the other, I was very worried about the consequences of getting ourselves into something that might damage our relationship. Obviously other people could manage it but I wasn't sure about myself or Dan. Also, I was disturbed by my attraction to Clarissa. It was the strongest feeling that I'd had, at least since meeting Dan and it frightened me more than a bit. As often happened, by the time we had got home, we neither of us felt tired so we decided to have a last drink by ourselves. "I was sorry there were so many people there that there was no