Free Unfaithfully Yours by Nigel Williams

appointment. There were no shops nearby and no people visible on the wide pavements. The only thing that distinguished their house from those near it was a mast in the front garden, which, to my surprise, was decorated with a flag that (although furled on the windless afternoon that I visited) was almost certainly a skull and crossbones.
    The front door was open. There were several rhododendron bushes in the front garden, and the hallway and the front reception – which doubled as a waiting area – were both dark and cool after the brilliant sunshine outside.
    I did not announce myself but slipped into the waiting room without anyone realizing I was present. I am, as I think you observed in one of your letters, Mrs Price, a man who ‘blends in’ to almost any background. Your husband was ‘in the chair’ when I arrived and, from my seat by the window, I could not only see his feet and legs but hear his ‘small-talk’ with the invisible Mr Dimmock. To my surprise, they seemed to know each other quite well. Mr Dimmock – who has a pronounced West Country accent – talked a great deal of his boat, which is apparently called the
Jolly Roger
and is moored at Portsmouth. He interspersed a fairly detailed account of what he called ‘caulking its bottom’ with loud and often aggressive commands to his patient. ‘We got the keel up on the ramp and we – OPEN WIDER WIDER WIDER – managed to seal the resin on the back timbers but – DO NOT MOVE YOUR TONGUE, GERALD – I always think that commercial resins in this country are not a patch on those from the Dutch marine suppliers, like Burgwaal de Kock. I AM GOING TO SQUIRT WATER ON YOUR GUMS NOW.’
    Then he fired off several direct questions to his patient, even though Mr Price was obviously unable to speak. This did not stop him trying, of course, although he sounded as if his mouth was propped open with the dental equivalent of an RSJ.
    At 14.25 precisely Mr Dimmock broke off and said to his wife, ‘Is it time for Yo-ho-ho?’
    I thought at first he was referring to refreshment but Mrs Dimmock answered, ‘It is, darling! They are showing extracts from the Guernsey Regatta with some of those sloops you liked!’ It was, clearly, a TV channel devoted exclusively to sailing.
    Mr Dimmock said he would not be gone long, and as he rushed off to get a look at those sloops, I had my first glimpse of Mary Dimmock’s much-cuckolded husband. He was much bigger than I had expected and his beard was enormous – far bigger than almost any I have ever seen. It was reddish in colour. He was also, again to my surprise, irretrievably bald.
    Immediately he had gone, Mrs Dimmock and your husband began to make love. At first I thought he was giving her oral pleasure and then I realized that the noise he was making was muffled by whatever Mr Dimmock had put into his mouth. Cotton wool? A steel clamp? Both, possibly. Whatever it was, their needs were obviously so urgent that neither thought to remove the device. Perhaps it enhanced his pleasure.
    It was certainly the most interesting ten minutes I have ever spent in a dentist’s waiting room. It was hard to work out what they were doing and I am afraid I did not manage to get any photographs but I do have a fairly good-quality sound recording, which is among the attached documents. I have also transcribed Mrs Dimmock’s comments, most of which are, as you will see, commands along the lines of ‘Harder! Faster! Deeper!’ and ‘Fuck me, Gerald!’ – which she says several times. From the movements of Mr Price’s feet, I think full intercourse was almost definitely achieved.
    When they had finished – and I timed the act at four and a half minutes (which is, as I know from past observations, roughly what it usually takes) – Mrs Dimmock started to move about the surgery once again. I caught fleeting glimpses of her as she crossed and re-crossed my line of vision. She was – on first viewing anyway – naked from the waist