Three’s Company

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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.


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.


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.


Forty bahis şirketleri 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.


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.

A little later I lay between her legs and as she looked up at me I slowly slid deep inside her and started to move, slowly at first and then faster and faster. At first she lay with her knees bent but soon I felt her legs tight around me.

And she started to talk.

“Oh this is good, so good.”

“Please fuck me.”

“Please fuck my pussy.”



“Don’t stop.”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

And then.

“I’m going to come! I’m going to come! I’m coming! I’m coming!”


As she came I felt her legs tighten around me and her vagina clamp around my penis. Even in my passion I did not want to come inside her and as she uncrossed her legs I withdrew, rolled off her, and lay beside her and watched her beautiful face as she slowly recovered.

She gazed back at me and smiled.

“I’m safe. Your turn. I want you to come in my pussy.”

She knelt on all fours on the bed, and I knelt behind her and was able to admire her petite and perfectly rounded bum. As she looked backward over her shoulder I slid inside her.

Her vagina gripped me tight and as I moved in and out I was able to see her vaginal lips pursing to and fro over my shaft. That sight is my biggest turn on, and I could not remember when my penis had felt so hard. I pounded her mercilessly as she entreated me to go harder and faster until I could take no more. Then as I groaned and my penis started to pulse prior to my impending orgasm, Sambala reached between her legs, and we came together.

I held her sweaty body tight as our breathing settled and our heart rates returned to normal.

“I thought you’d be good, and I wasn’t disappointed,” she said.

Just as I was going to ask her whether and when I could see her again the inevitable happened and my bleeper went off. The gentleman who had arrested earlier had done it again and with no time to spare I pulled my clothes and shoes back on, kissed Sambala briefly on the lips, and ran.

When I returned to my room an hour later Sambala had gone but the bed was made. I was heartened by the fact that we had successfully brought the patient back for the second time that night (he survived and went home a week later) but I was more heartened by an unsigned note placed on my pillow.

Thank you XXXXXX

The fates conspired against me following that and I did not get any sleep until about five in the morning but was able to sleep until ten when the house officer bleeped me. Sunday was busy and I had little time to process the events of the previous night. I finally got to bed at midnight and, miracle of miracles, slept until eight bahis firmaları o’clock in the morning with no interruptions.


I did not see Sambala again until her next nursing shift which was that Monday morning. Following the ward round I caught her alone whilst she was preparing the medication trolley.

“Morning Sambala.”

“Good morning Doctor.”

“Good weekend?”

She smiled. “Best for some time. But we can’t talk now, Ring me after my shift finishes. I’ll be home by half four this afternoon. Write down my number. It’s local. 62418. Talk to you then.”

She turned back to the trolley and wheeled it out of the door.

That afternoon was busy but by just after five o’clock I was finished. I rang the number I had been given and Sambala answered on the second ring. I heard her mellow voice and my stomach lurched. I knew at that moment that what I planned next might finish my marriage. Emma might forgive a one night stand but not an affair. But I was already hooked and longed for a repeat performance with Sambala.

“When can I see you again?”

“Whenever you can find the time. But we need to be very careful about it. I’m not sure I want to come to your room when you are “on call” again. Nobody saw me Saturday and your bleep didn’t go off whilst we were busy but I’d rather there wasn’t the risk of being interrupted next time. Can you come to my house this Saturday afternoon? Two o’clock. Park your car on York Street and walk to my house. It’s about a five minute walk. Then she gave me the address.

One last thing. Don’t talk to me in the hospital. You never did before except for work related things so let’s keep it like that. People talk. I don’t want them talking about me. I’m sure the feeling is mutual”

After I put the phone down I collected my things and drove home. The drive gave me time to collect my thoughts and I realised I was both excited and nervous. Sambala’s last remark about not getting caught had made me aware of what I was planning. She had little to lose except, perhaps, her reputation but I could lose much more. Having said that, my marriage was slowly sliding down the tube and I hadn’t had really good sex with Emma for some time. The sex with Sambala had been very good and I knew it could only get better and I wanted more. I was bored and I was drawn to Sambala like a moth to a flame. I had forgotten what can happen to the moth when it gets too close to the light.

I had also forgotten the enjoyment and excitement which come with a new girlfriend. The gradual discovery of her likes and dislikes, her history, her personality, what she looks likes naked, her sexual preferences in the sack, and how she looks and sounds when she orgasms.

I had just been reminded of all these things.

By the time I pulled into my driveway I knew that I would make an excuse to Emma and visit Sambala the following Saturday afternoon. I also had a hard on and had to sit in the car and let it subside before I entered the house. I didn’t think Emma would notice. She had appeared even more distracted than usual and had had no interest in sex for the last month.

Emma met me at the door.

“Hello Daniel. How was your weekend. Not too tiring I hope. Have your shower and we’ll eat. I’ve put Julie to bed and have to go to a teachers meeting. I may go for a drink afterwards. If you’re tired go to bed. I’ll try not to wake you when I come in.”

An hour later she was gone and a short while after that I went to bed and when I dreamed I dreamed of Sambala.

On Tuesday evening I was in the process of inventing an excuse for Saturday afternoon when It became unnecessary.

Emma suddenly shouted through to me as I was sitting watching television and she was pottering in the kitchen.

“Daniel. I have got to go to my parents Saturday morning, and I won’t be back until Sunday evening. They’re away in Wales at short notice and somebody has to look after the dogs. I’ll take Julie. I hope you don’t mind. I shouldn’t make much difference to you. You can revise for that bloody exam of yours.”

At first I was pleased that I wouldn’t have to lie to her, and I was even more pleased at the prospect of more time with Sambala. Then momentarily the guilt returned, until the lust chased it away.


Sambala’s house was a mid-terrace in a quiet backstreet. I rang the bell and waited, and after a few seconds she opened the door and let me in. She was wearing a long red patterned dress which I later learnt was called an abaya. As the door closed behind us she reached up and passionately started to kiss me and then she led me into the lounge. The whole of the house appeared to have been refurbished. The carpet was light brown, the furniture white with colourful throws, and on the walls a variety of authentic looking African tribal masks were hung. A few tribal artefacts, baskets, and pottery were dotted around the room. On the floor were two circular black and red patterned leather mats. In kaçak bahis siteleri one corner of the room there was a top of the range stereo system and against the wall an expensive colour television

“Wow,” I said. I didn’t expect this.

“Nobody does,” she replied. “It’s the advantage of having a very rich daddy. I’m a real disappointment to him. He wanted me to stay in Nigeria and marry into another rich family and be somebody’s trophy wife. I wanted to be a nurse. But I am a Hausa woman and proud of it and my culture. This is my space.

Very few people have seen it. Only my friends ever come here.”

Her bedroom was upstairs at the front of the house with a large bay window facing onto the road. The net curtains were drawn and prevented anyone from seeing in, but light streamed in on that summer afternoon. A king sized bed covered by a colourful tribal throw sat against the far wall and to the left of it, away from the door, were a pair of solid heavy leather armchairs with wooden arms and legs.

We had showered together, and Sambala led me by the hand, hard and naked, into the room.

“Sit over there. I have a treat for you. Sit in the chair.”

I did as I was told, and she knelt in front of me and for the first time I felt her lips around me. She worked on me for several minutes sucking and flicking her tongue on my glans. She was expert. And then she stopped and, as I looked down at her, she produced four nylon stockings and quickly and efficiently bound my arms and legs to the chair before continuing to slowly fellate me.

And then I saw the bedroom door open and Emma, my wife, entered the room! She was naked!

“My, my. What do we have here? I believe it’s called in flagrante delictico,” she said.

As Sambala turned to face her I had started to panic, and my erection had vanished. Soon my panic turned to confusion when Sambala crossed to Emma, reached up, and put both arms around her neck and with Emma cupping Sambala’s beautiful firm buttocks, one in each hand, they kissed. The kiss was long and deep, a lovers kiss, and in an instant I understood.

This was a set up.

They disengaged and as Sambala looked on Emma approached the chair and smiled down at me.

“You naughty boy. It’s my turn now. First you get to watch and if you are very good….,” and her voice tailed off.

They were a completely incongruous pair; petite, dark skinned, dark haired, lithe, small titted, firm assed Sambala and tall, pale white skinned, ginger haired, voluptuous, big titted, big flabby assed Emma. As I looked at them standing in front of me my penis started to harden and within seconds it was fully erect.

Emma saw my hardness, her ice blue eyes glinted, and she smiled.

They lay together on the bed and started to kiss and finger each other. Soon they were writhing in pleasure and then Sambala’s thighs trembled, her back arched, and she sighed.

Sambala reached into the bedside drawer and retrieved a large cordless vibrator. As Emma lay flat on her back she sat astride one of Emma’s thick outstretched thighs and applied the silicon head to Emma’s sex. Emma is a screamer but that afternoon her cries and entreaties were louder than I had heard before. At first she simply moaned but as her climax approached she started to babble and swear.

“I want it. I want it now. I fucking want it now. I fucking need it now.”

“You bitch you bitch. Give it to me. Fucking give it to me.”

I watched her pleasure with awe. I was so turned on and desperately wanted to wank my throbbing member and I strained uselessly against my bindings.

Emma continued to plead but now held her nipples between her fingers and was squeezing them. She was looking up towards the ceiling when she finally received her release, bucked violently, and screamed

“Ohhhh yessss!”

Finally I watched as they knelt bum to bum sharing a double ended dildo. They rocked rhythmically back and forth, Emma’s large white flabby arse slapping against Sambala’s firm tight buttocks, and Emma’s large tits swinging as she moved. Each one of them was frigging themselves. Sambala was quietly moaning but for now Emma was silent as she concentrated on her pleasure.

Emma came first and she stopped rocking and her mouth opened wide. Her fingers continued to move and as Sumbala’s bum continued to slap rhythmically against hers she let out a long cry of ecstasy.


Sambala was next and I watched transfixed with my penis throbbing as she frantically drove herself onto the dildo and then let out a long, drawn out, soft sigh and all movement stopped.

For the next few minutes they lay immobile and recovering in each other arms but then they stirred. First Sambala moved the second armchair to where she could watch me and wand vibrator in hand sat with her legs wide and her feet planted firmly on the floor. Meanwhile Emma wordlessly knelt and slowly started to fellate me as she held my shaft in her left hand and started to finger her clitoris with her right.

It is almost impossible to describe the next minutes as Emma edged me slowly to climax intermittently stroking, sucking, and squeezing my glans to prolong my pleasure and suffering.

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