Fate and Destiny Pt. 01

Anticipation

"An intense anticipation itself transforms into reality;
our desires being often but precursors."
Samuel Smiles

My Monday afternoon session with Gary Wayne produced some insights for him and a better understanding of the quiet editor and owner of the local newspaper. Unmentioned in our earlier session, he'd grown up in the fatherless home, his parents having separated when he was four. We talked about the lack of a role model to emulate in his role as a spouse to Laura, and where he got his ideas about being a husband. He'd felt some abandonment since his father had moved away after the divorce and only saw Gary a half-dozen times before he'd graduated from college. We would have to come back to this issue later, perhaps in individual sessions.

Gary had never thought that a lack of role model for being a husband had impacted his behavior in his own marriage. As we talked he expressed significant anxiety and insecurity about his role as husband, provider, and partner. I suggested some ways to think about the situation that would take some of the stress away from the job, and also help him cope as an adult with the earlier absence of his father.

The hour flew by. As we ended, I emphasized the confidentiality I would maintain of our discussion, our insights into his life, and any recommendations I made. I'd given the speech hundreds of times before in the same office. Gary seemed to appreciate that Laura wouldn't hear about his weaknesses from me. We shook hands and he left through the entry door.

Laura was reading a magazine in the waiting room. I was pleased to see the pair smile at each other and trade some banalities about the sessions. Gary suggested that she pickup dinner on the way home, reminding her that he would have a late evening as he got the newspaper ready for printing the following day. She said she'd figure something out, and Gary left.

I gestured for Laura to come into my office; she gathered her jacket and purse from a chair in the waiting room and walked into the office. She set the things down in one of my office chairs and turned towards me with a smile. She said with a lilt in her voice and a smile, "I've waited all week for this moment – being here with you."

With that she came into my arms and looking up at me, kissed me. I welcomed her presence as my heart beat again quickened. I kissed her back, moving one hand to stroke her face and move a lock of hair aside. She smiled and pulled away, one of her hands moving to hold one of mine.

"Shall we begin," I said, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. I was yet uncertain about where any relationship between the two of us might go.

Laura sat and I took her on much the same journey I'd taken Gary in the previous hour. We talked about her growing up, where she got her ideas about what a wife or mother should be like, and how she felt about here life now.

Laura felt her parent's marriage was too quiet and sedate. She felt there should be excitement in a relationship, perhaps not all the time, but often enough to jolt the partners into seeing each other in new ways. Friends and neighbors always seemed to have better and more interesting relationships. She ran though a list of activities and things she observed about them that formed her own principles for a relationship – a relationship she clearly wasn't having with Gary.

I shifted the conversation to her courtship with Gary, trying to find what she felt a few years earlier as they met and decided to marry. She cited the drive Gary had about starting the newspaper, his enthusiasm that had now turned to a quiet joy in his role as owner-editor of the local paper. Laura felt gypped; she'd wanted that same enthusiasm and flamboyance to carry over to her and the marriage. It didn't.

I asked her about what relationships she now saw as role models for her own marriage or relationship. The question stopped her cold. After thinking for a moment, she said in a thoughtful tone, "I don't have any models now." She nodded indicating that she would look at the relationships around her to see how hers compared.

Surprisingly, our hour went quickly. I realized the tension I'd carried through the time she was with me. I was anxious about making a good impression and still churning on the wild thoughts and dreams I'd had about her all week. Despite that I sincerely hoped to help her find some new insights into her own life and marriage, to bring her happiness.

My desk clock gave a gentle bong to signal the hour, a subtle reminder that we were in more than a friendly conversation. Laura sighed and started to gather purse and a sweater she hadn't put on. I stood, feeling I should do something animated rather than sit and watch her leave.

Then I spoke, making an offer so fast I was even surprised, "From what Gary said as he was leaving, it sounds like you're on your own for dinner. Have dinner with me – some place away from Dillon – the Waybridge Inn. We can be there in half an hour this time of day."

She smiled in acceptance but asked, "Aren't you expected home for dinner?"

"One call and that's not a problem." In that instant I knew I was sealing the fate of whatever happened between us. I moved to my desk and make a quick call home, leaving a message on the answering machine as it turned out.

As we walked from my office, we held hands on the way to my car. I drove us to the Waybridge Inn. In the car, Laura put her arm across my shoulders and stroked the back of my neck as I drove. It was distracting, erotic, and the sweetest thing that had happened to me in years. We had a romantic and intimate candlelit dinner. Neither of us ate much, we were just consumed with each other. Beneath the table our legs intertwined and continually moved against each other in a sophisticated and erotic kind of footsie.

Based on my open-ended questions, Laura opened up further about her childhood, parents, her brother and sister, and what her life had been like in school and since she been out of college working.

She turned the tables on me and started to ask me questions about my past and family. I opened up to her, even talking about things Margaret and I never broached – the things that keep me awake at night, my worries, my fears, my desires – besides her. I was level and open, and I held nothing back.

Laura suddenly asked as we sat after dinner had been cleared, "Have you had affairs in the past? Are you having one now?"

I replied honestly, "Yes, but not for some years, and yes, I'm having one now – with you it appears."

My last remark was more calculated to push her in one direction or the other; what were we doing here in the shadows of this romantic inn with all those empty bedrooms above us? What did the small romantic gestures mean – the kisses, the hugs, the touching, and the handholding? I remember thinking I had to know in order to move towards some stability in my mind. I couldn't go through more weeks wondering if she felt about 'us' the same way I did.

Laura smiled and pulled my hand she was holding to her lips and kissed it, her tongue running between the fingers of my hand as she looked at me through shaded eyes. She pulled one of my fingers into her mouth and sucked on it. The moves were sexual, full of lust, and her look held passion and love. Her answer was unequivocal.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked tentatively, testing the water one more time from the last island of safety and sanity I could see. "We can pull back from this edge we seem to be approaching rather rapidly." I knew how I wanted her to answer.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Laura replied softly. She checked her watch a moment and added, "But not tonight. For both our sakes, I think I should just head home so I'm there when Gary finishes. We'll take the rest of the week and think about this to be sure – you especially. You have more to lose." She squeezed my hand.

This time, I was the one that kissed her hand, repeating the sensual gestures she'd bestowed on me a moment before.

We barely spoke in the car driving back to my office. We did, however, hug and kiss rather passionately in the car before Laura pulled away, looked longingly at me and then opened the car door. She thrust a business card at me and said, "My cell phone number is on the back. Don't call in the evening, but please call me. I need to hear your voice – just to talk to you, about anything – the weather, what you had for lunch, your travels, anything." I took the card and Laura vanished across the short distance to her car. We'd parted knowing only that we'd see each other in church the following Sunday and then on Monday afternoon for counseling.

My arrival at home was not a noteworthy event. Margaret was watching television and asked if I'd had a nice dinner. I said I had, and that I had to do some reading before the next morning and that I'd be in my den. She blew a perfunctory kiss in my direction and went back to her program. I showered and put on my nightwear, and then sat in my den in front of my computer with a pile of papers open in front of me.

There's a line Lao-Tzu wrote three thousand years ago in the Tao: 'The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.' I knew that tonight we'd taken the first step on what would be a long and interesting journey with each other.

Deep inside, I knew I'd have a price to pay for this journey. It wouldn't come for free, for instance the way Marsha and I had dallied with each other. No, this trip was going to come at a price. I felt emotions I hadn't felt with Marsha, or for that matter even with Margaret – ever. And, I forgot the Chinese curse: 'May you live in interesting times.'

Already, I could feel a tinge of self-disrespect for the lies I'd have to tell about where I was going to be or where I'd been. I could feel the frantic passion boiling in my brain, wanting to make love to this woman – to bring her to peaks of physical pleasure, even when I was thousands of miles away. I was in love. I was in lust.

I tested whether my attraction to Laura was totally lust for a beautiful younger woman. I tried to dismiss the feelings emanating from my groin. I role-played with myself a conversation with Dean, telling him about what I was about to do and imagining his response. I could hear him saying to tuck my pecker in my pants, and start thinking with my head rather than my dick. My conversation with Dean would of course visit the three decade age difference between Laura and me, with him telling me what a foolish old fart I was for robbing the cradle and seducing a fresh young thing – except I think the seducing that was going on was mutual.

I decided that if our affair proceeded there was no one on the planet I could share my knowledge with. I wondered if Laura would be able to keep the same level of secrecy that I would. I shrugged at the degree of premeditation I had about the events that would unfold between us over the coming weeks, months, and years. How would we get together? Where? Would she make demands? Would I?

Eventually, I poured myself a cognac and sat staring out my den window of the parsonage. As I sipped the rich liqueur I thought with pleasure about what our relationship would be like, what Laura would be like in my life, and I ignored all the other warning signs – at least for that evening.

Desire

"When you know what you want,
and want it bad enough,
you'll find a way to get it."
Jim Rohn

I managed to go two days before I called Laura's cell phone. When she answered she was breathless.

"I've waited every second of every day for you call," She said panting. "Now I leave the phone in my office to go get a cup of coffee and you call." She laughed, the happiness in her voice evident.

I said, "Well, the weather in New York is sunny and about seventy degrees. I'm planning on having a turkey sandwich for lunch from the deli downstairs in this skyscraper where I'm working on the fifty-third floor looking out over Central Park, and I took the shuttle down here from Boston this morning and will be back late tonight." I paused and said, "Well, you asked for the weather, my lunch, and my travels – so there they are." I chuckled at my feeble attempt at humor.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Laura launched into the repetitive soliloquy all on her own. "I miss you. How am I going to get through entire weeks without seeing you?"

"Perhaps we should schedule in between sessions – although that'd get fishy if no one was paying for it. I can't charge you."

"No, no! You have to keep counseling us. Stretch it out. We'll think of something."

"I'll give you homework this time, but you have to do it. This must look normal."

She said, "Monday night plan to be alone with me. I don't know what we'll do or where, but I want alone time with you. Intimate time. Please."

"I've been a ball of anticipation for weeks and even more these few days. I'll be ready to burst by Monday. Are you coming to the Sunday service?"

"Yes. I cling to every word you speak. How's that for an admission that probably inflates your ego. I love your sermons. I love you."

A secretary came into the conference room I was using with a huge pile of papers as well as my lunch. Behind her two of the execs of the company lingered wanting some of my time. I sighed and said, "I'm afraid I've got to go. They're suddenly lined up at the door. I'll try to call later today or tomorrow. Maybe I can call from the cab on the way to airport."

"I love you."

I replied, "Me too. Be in touch." I pushed the End button on the phone and pocketed the device.

Sunday's sermon was on creative dialogue with your partners or friends. I touched on how actions speak louder than words, making priorities, avoiding destructive arguments, being open about your feelings, and being an active listener. Somehow I related it all to Jesus' teachings and few Bible verses.

Gary and Laura sat in the fourth row right in front of the pulpit. I wondered if they knew I'd picked the sermon topic as one way to stimulate their own dialogue about their feelings and their marriage. Even though we had this hazy plan to start an affair, I hadn't given up on their relationship. Some part of my professional ego wanted to save the relationship even while I was setting out to have an affair with one of the participants.

Laura waited patiently in front of Gary in the receiving line after the service. She slavered on the praise for the sermon and noted that she'd taken notes and that she and Gary were going to talk about what I said in terms of their own relationship. Gary looked pained at her words, probably because other people were nearby and could overhear Laura. He shook my hand said a few words, and then the pair departed.

The next day I was a ball of nervous energy. Laura and Gary had a 4:30 p.m. appointment for an hour. In some free moments I planned my approach with them, pulling a few books from my immense library that I might use with them.

When our session started, I led off with a discussion about creative dialogue and how I thought what I'd said the day before applied to the two of them. I got the two of them talking again using the model I'd described in my sermon.

Towards the end of the session I shifted gears and talked about a relatively new book entitled 'Bridging the Intimacy Gap.' The book was a mix of pop psychology, counseling, and sage advice based on research of several hundred couples.

I looked at Gary and said, "I'd like the two of you to read this book before we meet next. I've got to be away for a couple of weeks, so we won't meet again for a month, but in the meantime I think if you both read this and together did the discussion questions at the end of each chapter that you'd make some progress."

Laura reached forward and accepted the book from me. Gary looked distracted, so much so that I asked him, "Is everything all right? Do you mind the homework?"

"Oh, no," Gary said slightly embarrassed by my calling him on his distracted attitude. "There's some rough politics going on in town – around the sewer bond issue and possible favoritism that'll cost the town money. I'm trying to decide how to handle it in the paper. I have to write the editorial on it tonight before we go to press."

Laura rolled her eyes off to his side.

I said, "Well, I think we did pretty well this evening, if you want to duck out a few minutes early that's all right. Laura, can you stay and we'll chat a few moments?"

Gary looked relieved and actually thanked me to letting him leave five minutes early in our session. He bolted out the door. A minute later, through the open window, we could hear his car start up and leave the parking lot. Laura and I had sat in silence looking at each other, and waiting for his certain departure.

I said, "What now?"

Laura said softly, "You come and kiss me."

I did, putting my arms on the arms of her chair as I bent to tenderly kiss her. Laura raised her face to me, tenderly took my face in her hands, and we kissed. There was electricity between us – a crackling and sparking of the passion we both had hidden beneath our calm exteriors.

"Would you care to come over to the couch with me," I suggested in a tentative tone. I gestured with my head towards the dark leather sofa.

"Absolutely," Laura whispered.

She rose from the chair and moved into my arms. She pushed her body against mine, intentionally grinding her pelvis against mine. I was swollen in anticipation and knew she could feel my fullness the way she rubbed against me. Her mouth found mine again and we kissed with even more passion, this time her tongue pushed into my mouth. She quickly became insatiable, and I joined in her madness for our coupling.

As we kissed Laura grabbed one of my hands and pulled it to her breast. She pulled from our kiss just for a few seconds and gasped, "Feel me. You arouse me. Make love to me. Fuck me, here, right now." She took both hands and started to frantically unbutton my shirt. As we fumbled with each other's clothing, she backed me towards the sofa.

I moved to pull her blouse up over her head. She held her arms up, and I pulled the garment up and over her. I sucked in a hard breath as Laura went back to work on my shirt buttons. Her skin was perfect – smooth, tan lines along the edge of her lacy beige bra, a few perfectly placed freckles for definition. She was as beautiful as I'd thought. I reached behind and undid the clasp of the bra.

My shirt came fully undone and I shed it along with the t-shirt I wore beneath it. Her hands fumbled with my belt buckle and then my zipper, her bra hanging loosely in front of her. She yanked down my pants and briefs. I did the same to her, removing the small thong she wore. We cast our remnants of clothing into untidy piles on the floor.

We looked at each other's nudity. She smiled and came back into my arms. Our naked bodies rubbed and clung to each other, the erect points of her breasts pressing erotically into my chest. We kissed and then my mouth was on her breasts. We were noisy and rushed.

She stopped me for a second, dropped and took me into her mouth. A few seconds later she said in a sexy whisper, "Enough foreplay, I want you ... now. I've waited for weeks." She pulled me down into her arms as she lay back on the sofa.

Our lovemaking was frantic and fast. We were consumed with the passion we felt for each other. I was much rougher than I'd ever been, and Laura kept urging me on with her comments and instructions – harder, faster, again, more, and oh god seemed to be the words I heard most in those few minutes.

We came in a blaze of glory; crackling and sparking fireworks went off everywhere around us as our orgasms hit. I couldn't remember cuming as hard, and obviously Laura had some kind of peak experience. We lay together without separating from each other. Her kisses rained down on every part of my body. I left no part of her form untouched and unloved. There was no cessation in the passion we felt for each other.