Three’s Company by TheDok..,

Three’s company

This is a story of how my adulterous relationship saved my failing marriage and rekindled my wife’s and my sex lives.

1

I was “on call” one “long weekend” when I was unfaithful for the first and only time. It saved my marriage.

Back in the day junior doctors in the UK were expected to work very long hours and it was standard practice to work a “long weekend” every three weeks. And a “long weekend” was long; from nine am Friday morning until five pm Monday evening or eighty hours straight.

Between these times I didn’t leave the hospital and I was the leader of the team responsible for the immediate care of medical inpatients and new patients with medical problems needing to be admitted to the hospital. If there was a problem I couldn’t deal with I rang my consultant boss at home. The trick was not to ring him too much. During that time how much sleep you got was down to chance, but if you got more than four to five hours you were lucky, and it was often interrupted to give advice to a subordinate senior house officer who got even less sleep than I did.

At the time I was a registrar in general medicine in a busy district general hospital in the far north of the UK. I had been qualified for six years and had been married for about the same time, and I had a beautiful three year old daughter and a wife I was slowly growing to dislike.

She didn’t appear to like me that much either and I had come to believe that the only thing holding our relationship together was our daughter and our own apathy.

Like all marriages It hadn’t started like this. We had met at university when I was in my third year of medical school and Emma was three years younger and studying English with the view to becoming a teacher. When we married I had newly qualified as a doctor and it was shortly after this that that our problems had started.

There is an old joke.

Q.How do you make a women frigid?

A. Give her a slice of wedding cake.

Our problems ran deeper than that. In retrospect neither one of us had any idea of the strain that would be caused by my being away from home for many nights a week. Often when I came home after work I was too tired to talk, let alone make love, and a lot of my free time had been spent studying for my postgraduate medical qualification, the MRCP.

This meant that Emma was often alone and after the birth of Julie had little help in caring for her much of the time. Additionally in addition to looking after Julie, she had her own job, and did most of the housework. I did some of the cooking and looked after the household budget, but the distribution of labour was inequitable. Emma had not signed up for this and slowly she became more and more resentful.

To my shame, when she complained I brushed her off with the excuses that things would improve when I became a consultant and that it was my job that was precluding my taking a greater interest in our domestic arrangements. Whilst all of this was true, I was not sympathetic enough to what Emma was going through and I could have tried harder to help. She on the other hand did not understand the stress involved in my job and inevitably we grew more distant from each other.

Our lovemaking, which had been frequent and imaginative at the start of our relationship had become an occasional and perfunctory affair which satisfied a physical need, and in me at least the love was slowly going out of it.

2

It was an unusually quiet Saturday evening and I had dropped into a party in the nurses residence. I had had a single bottle of beer and was contemplating going back to my room to try to sleep when Sambala approached me. She was a staff nurse who worked on the medical wards and was black and stunningly beautiful. I had often admired her when I saw her on the wards even though in her “specially designed” nurse’s uniform her body was hidden, sexless, and nondescript. I remembered her as a very quiet person who kept herself to herself and I could not recollect seeing her socially before. That evening she was wearing a light cotton dress with bright colourful geometrical patterns, and this accentuated her curves and made her even more desirable. She was holding a large glass of white wine.

I must have admired her a little too long.

“Do you like what you see?,” she asked.

“You look very pretty.”

“Only pretty?,” and she laughed.

We talked quietly for the next ten minutes until I looked at my watch and turned to go when she caught me by the wrist.

“Do you want to go to bed with me?”

I was both taken aback and momentarily excited.

“I’m a married man.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

And I made the fateful reply, “I’m only human. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want you Sambala?

My reply hung in the air and then my bleep went off, “Cardiac arrest Ward 14. Cardiac arrest Ward 14,” and I turned and ran.

3

Forty five minutes later I returned to my room after the arrest team had successfully resuscitated a middle aged man who had had a heart attack. My table light beside the bed was switched on and I was sure that it had been off when I had left earlier. Much more importantly my bed had also been empty when I had left that morning but was now occupied by a female shape, and Sambala lay smiling up at me.

“Sambala?”

She put her finger to her lips to silence me and as she pulled back the sheets to reveal her petite naked body she silently beckoned me to come to her.

In the moment that she offered her body to me any scruples that I may have had vanished into the ether. More accurately I stopped thinking with my head; or at least the head attached to my shoulders.

Her skin was the colour of mahogany, her waist narrow, and her firm muscular thighs and long legs ended in small dainty feet with well-manicured, red painted toenails. Above her neatly trimmed sex her stomach was flat whilst her breasts were small, firm, and round like oranges. As if this wasn’t enough she had dark brown doe like eyes with long lashes, a pert nose, and moist heart shaped lips, all framed by shoulder length, dark black hair.

I undressed myself quickly as Sambala looked on hungrily. As I stepped out of my underpants my penis stood free. I had grown rock hard in anticipation of screwing this beautiful woman.

“Oh my,” she murmured softly.

I lay beside her, and we kissed softly at first and then deeper and more hungrily. I ached for her touch and soon I felt her soft hand take my shaft and slowly move the foreskin up and down. As she continued to gently rub me I reached down and found her button. It was erect and firm and well lubricated by her secretions and as I rubbed her with my fingers I took her nipples in my mouth, nibbling each in turn.

She gently moaned and spread her legs wide for me, making it easier for me to give her the pleasure she wanted. Her first orgasm came soon. Her breathing quickened, her moans became louder, her back arched as she pushed her pelvis onto my fingers, and as I looked into her eyes I watched her pupils grow. And then her thighs trembled, and her toes curled, and she let out a long sigh of release.