Guilty Conscience Intermission

Light tapping on my cheek woke me up. Sandra was smiling down at me.

“How long was I out?” I mumbled.

“Only about 15 or 20 minutes,” she answered. “Pretty much everyone's still eating. But I thought we could slip out and go for a walk.”

A walk sounded nice. A walk with Sandra sounded wonderful. We quickly made our way outside and took a long walk along the streets and into a park. Sandra had thoughtfully packed a lunch to go, and we shared it in a grassy spot under the warm sun. We talked about work and a little about family. We held hands most of the time and took a few pictures. It felt so... normal. I was once again tempted to **** this into reality, wondering if I could trick myself into forgetting that it was **** for the woman trapped underneath the facade.

But I couldn't just forget. Our walk took us past the cafe where we had met. Sandra paused and laughingly recalled how she had flirted with me. For some reason I had jumped up and ended up knocking over my drink. We laughed together at that first encounter. But then Sandra put her fingers to her temple and winced. She seemed dizzy and we found a bench for her to sit on. “Ron... I... I don't remember after that,” she said, worried. “I just remember we've been together now for... something like five or six months. But I feel like that stuff just happened this week. And it had to be recent, since I wasn't even living here until three months ago. So how did... how can...?”

I couldn't keep this up. The work it would take to create the necessary false memories and stories and details without conflicting with known realities was too much. For a short time, yes, but in the long term, I feared I was risking tearing her mind apart.

“Weren't you just in town for an interview that week we met?” I suggested. Then I commanded, “Remember the interview.” Her face softened and she seemed less pained.

“The interview,” she mumbled. “OK, yeah. I remember.”

“You're just stressed,” I assured her. Maybe you need a little time off.

Sandra smiled weakly and replied with, “Or maybe we need some time away together, just the two of us. Make some memories that I can't possibly forget.” We got up and continued our stroll, hand in hand.

“That sounds lovely,” I assured her. “Let's think about it some more and talk next week.”

Next week. When, if I stuck to the plan, she would be back to her original self with no memory of me unless/until I wanted to be with her again.

The thing was, this was really Sandra. I hadn't changed her persona, only her relationship to me (and her openness to me having a harem, so.. you know... not much). And I was falling in love with Sandra – the real Sandra. And because I was falling for her, how could I really consider condemning her to a hellish waking nightmare under my spell?

But Sandra never let my thoughts go too far. There was always another thing to see or talk about. Another kiss “to remind me who'll still be with you after the weekend is over.” I almost cried when she said that.

We wandered back to the apartment mid-afternoon. As we walked up to the door, Sandra said, “Julie is waiting for you next. If you're ready, I'll tell her to meet you in the bedroom, OK?”

I stood outside the apartment door, half ready to call the whole thing off. My lust had taken me into deep waters of abandoned morality. I was lost in depravity with no compass but my dick, which always pointed to the next available woman.

Sandra noticed my hesitation and grabbed me by the elbow. “Don't be silly,” she teased. “You're not even half finished. Come on!”

Like I said, I was only half resolved to end it. The other half had a slight advantage when the woman I was falling for was urging me that direction. I suppressed my doubts and entered with a smile. Giving Sandra a long, loving kiss (to a mixed reaction around the room of hoots, “awwws,” and eye rolls), I told her, “Tell Julia to meet me in about five minutes.”