By: Lady Sharon

Wisdom is uncommon knowledge in common things. I have known such a man. His name is Jim. There have been others. One comes to mind, Gengus Khan, the great Khan. He was brilliant, everyone knows that, the greatest military mind of all time many think. His wisdom, was another matter. He was born the son of an assassinated village leader. He survived being a slave, killed seven men with one arrow and escaped regaining his father's position at 13. He married young, and loved his wife. When his village was overrun, she was taken captive, repeatedly raped and kept by his enemies for some time. The great Khan recaptured her. It was the custom of that time to have her killed. He took her back into his life without question. Her son, born in that time may have been his, then again, maybe not. Gengus never questioned the birth, and made the boy his heir. Such was the compassion, love and wisdom of the man, that in all world history conquered more peoples and land, than any man before or since. Such is the wisdom of a man that would keep the love of his woman, and all the people that followed him. He was the great Khan, the greatest military man of all time and one of the worlds wise rulers.

Jim, on the other hand is a man of peace, a philosopher. It all started near the end of World War II. It was then he met Grace. She was charming. He was Hansom. Together they had three children, and nearly 50 years together. This is what she told me.

"I was fascinated by an article I had read. It was written by a naturopath in our city on colon health and the use of colon cleansing for health. It seemed like everyone had their chance to give me an enema. My mother, my mother-in-law, grand mother-in-law and most of the nursing staff of the local hospital had all taken their turns. Frankly, it wasn't all that bad. I loved the attention, my body was quite good so showing it off a bit was fine, and taking a good enema, when the giver knows what they are doing is very pleasant. In any case I was interested. My husband's business was going well, and finances were no problem. There was enough money for extras, so a little colon therapy once a week of two would be great. As well it would be good for me. I secretly called and made an appointment. I didn't want Jim to know, he did not share my love of enemas, and found it a bit weird.

The doctor was a distinguished looking man, short, gray hair, well built, a goatee like Freud. He had appeal. He gave the treatments himself in a small office downtown. Among all the treatments he gave, the enema was his most sought after. I had two that first day and felt great. I floated out of the office and came home on cloud nine. He was very professional and detached. I was surprised when I noticed him walking home from the subway a few blocks away. Then another morning I saw him going into the subway. He lived in a small apartment five doors down from us. I continued to have treatments in his office once a week for a few months. He became more and more of an interest to me. He seemed to notice me too. He had a home number on his card. I waited until my husband was out of town one evening and called telling him I had a dreadful tummy ache, did he do house calls? He did!

Five minutes later he was at our door. I met him in house dress and slippers. Five more minutes and I was on our bed taking an enema. As I took it, he gave me my usual, of as much as I could hold. After it was in, I rolled over to him and lay there looking intently at him. I told him what a charming man he was, and how good he was to me. We talked for a long time. By the time I reached the toilet, I had absorbed a lot of water and had to urinate several times. During this bladder enforced break he and I sat and talked more.

With the second enema, I removed my gown. It was just too hot for a gown. After I got the enema in, he sat touching me, then lay down beside me and held me in a very special way. I melted, went to the bathroom and came back in the mood for far more than an enema.

I walked right up to him and kissed him. Five minutes later we were in bed. Neither of us had expected this. I must admit that a young woman home alone calling for a man to give her enemas, may have some anticipation, but the doctor, was caught off guard. He had wanted me as much as I wanted him. I know that. Still, he had all sorts of moral blockages. Making love to a married woman was one of them. He only made love to me once, and was not the best lover he could have been. I discovered this years later when I met a lady who had been single and had seduced him the year before. He had made love to her like a tiger, ten times in one day.

The love making stopped. Neither of us were comfortable with it. Had I not had a husband, he would have been a wonderful teacher. Still, just having enemas from him was wonderful. My husband at that time, was as I was, an inexperienced lover. We didn't have that much else to compare too. I had only slept with a few men before we married, and I don't think my husband had slept with many more women. One of the things he insisted on was that I lay very still and not move during sex. The older man was something special. He was very gentle, and spent a lot more time pleasing me the one time we made love. When we made love he was more than pleased when my passion flared. He coached my moves and brought me to one of the few orgasms I had had while making love to a man. His climax was an after thought to pleasing me. However, he spent time teaching me to please him as well. His key to love making was pleasing his partner. He taught me mine - pleasing him. As well we both loved the enemas. This made the sex very special to me. My husband had never had an enema to my knowledge. We never discussed it in any case, and he never gave me one or wanted too.

The curve I had not expected was that we began to love each other. I had never experienced being with anyone that loved me just for who I was, am. It was new to me. My parents, were good parents, but they loved me, the honor student, the pianist. They loved me for being an accomplished person and worked me to make me successful. They did not seem to love or nourish the little girl with a dirty diaper. They had an agenda, and loved me for living up to their agenda. My husband was similar. He was a successful business man, and he needed an attractive blonde on his arm for business, and he needed a receptacle for his sexual release. I was that for him. I never was really sure if he needed me at all other than as one of his possessions. Like a lot of young men, he was too busy looking in the mirror at his own needs to see mine.

The doctor was not like this at all. He had a very caring manner with me, and other people. I felt special with him. I also had someone that I could pick up the phone and call with my every concern and need to talk. Over the 18 months that followed, we talked. We shared things that I never shared with anyone before, and after he was gone I never shared with anyone again. I never shared many or these things with my husband even though sharing them was the deepest desire of my soul. I did with the doctor. If the term soul mates ever applied, it applied to me and my doctor. He and I had a similar religious and social background. I never had this with my husband. He is Jewish, and never wanted to live any further from wall street than central park. I grew up in the country, in a very fundamentalist Christian home as did the doctor. Our love of enemas was similar. Both our mothers made good use of the ole red bag. The list went on and on. Even though he was old enough to be my grandfather and almost a pauper, we were soul mates.

On the other hand my husband took very good care of me and provided more than I could have expected from another man, in particular the doctor never seemed to have two dimes to rub together. It was more than that. Jim was not just a man of means. We had been together six years, and in those years he had always been good to me. He never was abusive, hit me or made me feel inferior. He was a very gentlemanly husband. Most of what he lacked would come with time and experience. However, no one ever tried to meet my needs or loved me like the Doctor. We began to have fantasies of love and being together and wrote letters to each other about this. We both knew they were fantasies, but they made our days and nights warmer, just knowing how much love was in the ether between us.

It was here that our fundamentalist childhoods caused some difficulties. Both the Doctor and I had strong feelings about adultery. The guilt made me sick, as it did him. I took it out by being a better wife. Jim got the best meals and cleanest house he had ever imagined. In bed I convinced him to let me move. After the first twenty minutes of rhythmically working him with my vaginal muscles he let me feel passion too, and I gave him more as well. Sexual pleasures and skills I learned as an adulteress became the spark of a love that exploded between us. What I had learned while he was away benefitted all of us. Still, we felt guilty. Our relationship grew in other ways. Together we pledged to serve God and make a better world.

The doctor had not seen my husband officially. Sometimes they past on the street. As he said once with me in his arms, why would he want to meet the man that had everything he ever dreamed of having. The Doctor's love deepened for me as my love for him continued to grow as well. It began to change though for us both. It became something far more spiritual than sexual. His work was to share truths and expand the world's knowledge of hygienic living. It was a mission much more than a job. He did not have money, but he put all he had in this cause to make a better world. This fed something in me that had been missing as well. In my family, charity, helping others and making a better world was part of our model for living, as it was his. My husband's was making money, but sharing was not part of his model.

It was a quandary for me. It was tearing at me. I loved them both. The doctor on one of those warm nights when my husband was out of town eased it for me. He, after my enemas, held my hand, cried, kissed me and began to talk. He was old, poor and had nothing to offer a young woman like myself, particularly one who had a successful husband. His own children had missed crucial opportunities because of his poverty. His marriage had failed because of his poverty, and his own children had not been able to go to college or have the opportunities they would have had, had he been able to support them properly. As much as he loved me, he knew that if I were to leave my husband for him, it would destroy me and my future children's lives. If on the other hand, I stayed with my husband, if I had his children and raised them as we could afford too, all would be better for me, better for my family. He wanted to end it, part of it, the romantic part of it.

He turned to me and said why don't you have a baby? I smiled. I wanted a baby, but had held back because I was unsure about my relationship to my husband, and if it would last. He clarified it well. My husband loved me. I loved him. We were having a good physical relationship now, and we got along well. He was good to me, and I was a good wife to him. What the doctor and I had was something different. We were best of friends. We shared our souls with each other, supported each others dreams and hopes. We could continue our relationship as we had. He in my shadows, and my husband in my bed and days. It was his joy to watch me grow, live and be happy. He did not need to take me away from my husband for that. In fact with life as it was, had that happened it would have hurt us for that to have happened, unless he had better fortune and been able to support us. He wanted me to have a good marriage to my husband, an have him as my dearest friend. We all could live out our lives this way, to the benefit of all.

I got pregnant, and he cared for me. He was scheduled to deliver our baby. Then disaster struck. I had carelessly left one of the doctor's letters in a drawer. Jim found it. I saw him pick it up. I saw him read it. His face turned red, and he looked at me with a glare I had never seen in him before. He never spoke. He walked out the door and was gone a few hours.

When he came back, he calmly picked up the phone and called the doctor and asked him to come over. An hour later he came to our door. Jim asked him to sit down in the sitting room. I was ashen as I joined them. My morning sickness was bad throughout the whole pregnancy. It was worse that day. Jim was friendly at first. He asked questions that became ever more pointed. The doctor, began to cry as did I. He just kept saying over and over "She loves you," to my husband. In the middle of all this my husband stood up, hit him and threw him out. We had ended our sexual relationship, and had thought all would be good with my husband and me. We did not expect to be caught. Jim forbade me to talk to him, see him or even call him on the phone.

I heard from one of his patients that I knew on the street that he had gone down hill. He had built his whole life around being my friend. I knew he loved me, but we had so much taken care of Jim in our love that I had not expected any problem. The doctor gave up his practice and drifted. The last I heard he was driving a bus, and lost heart in all that he did. I obeyed my husband, even though I knew it was wrong for all of us. My pregnancy was hard. Thrown into the medical care of that day, my delivery was very tough. I was in labor a long time. The enemas I was given were rough and hard. The nurses had none of the compassion my doctor had. They eventually pulled Jim Jr. from me and left me with a lot of stitches. When they finally brought me my baby, I was in tears and thought he had died Separating moms and babies at birth was the norm then. It was very hard. She told me that you younger women had it far better than we did!

After the birth, it was a long time before I could make love again. Jim continued to control me and be sure that I was an obedient house wife. He, on learning that my doctor was giving me enemas, threatened to tell all my friends and family of my fetish. I secretly cried almost every day. When I needed a friend to talk to, there was no one like my doctor. When I needed someone to hold me, just because they loved me, he was not there. Jim held me when he wanted sex, but not often otherwise. I went back to just laying there when he made love. He at first just laid it to me, got off and went to sleep. Then he began to ask me if I were all right. We never talked about anything personal after the day he threw the doctor out. Gradually over a few months he became concerned about me, and my feelings. I could see he was trying, but I had just shut down. I didn't feel anything. I hurt, and I knew we had hurt one of the most gentle and loving people I had ever met as well.

I did not think of Jim as a man of wisdom, or potential wisdom at all. Then he surprised me. He had been acting more caring for a week or two. Then he made sure he was home one weekday evening and answered the door. It was the doctor! Jim asked him in. Jim had found him and spent the afternoon talking to him about me. Then he had asked him to come by that evening. Jim turned to me and told me he loved me. He loved me too much to see me withering inside to satisfy some hormonal power trip that he had been on. If you love him, go with him! If you love me, stay! If you want to be my wife, and to be that you need to have his friendship, have it!

Then with a look of longing he asked us both to assure him that there would be nothing sexual between us. We did. He delivered my next baby and Jim was in heaven with his new daughter. I had a much better pregnancy and delivery. I still had enemas and treatments from the doctor, and Jim funded a project with the doctor to establish a healing center in New England where we spent time and both became much more healthful. The love I had for my old doctor never diminished. He remained my best friend, except my husband. Jim and I became very close after that. I knew he truly loved me. He allowed me to continue a friendship that had strengthened our marriage, and increased the joy in our marriage, even though a less wise man would have divorced me for adultery. Our relationship with the doctor did make a better world. He had been a friend to both of us all along, and his work did reach the world with a message of simple good living as the cure for many ails.

He died when I was in my early 50s. By this time Jim had learned the keys that had made me love him and we both mourned his passing together and went home far more complete with each other than we could have been had he not been a continuing part of our lifes. Jim, the man of peace, shared one of Gengus's traits. Most warriors when defeated, rage in hatred of their enemies putting down everything that they do. Gengus Khan never did this. When defeated, such as he was by the Chinese and their catapults and other weapons during their first engagement, Gengus watched, learned and came back the next year with improved catapults. He won. He learned from those hindrances that other men just curse. Jim became such a man too. I knew for sure that he loved me the day the doctor returned to our lives, and have known it every day since then.

My husband could have in rage cut him out of my life forever. He had done this when I was pregnant. I had to accept this. After that our lives would never have been as close. I would never have loved him in my heart again had we all not become friends. The love that the old man taught me, I used to bring more pleasure and joy to my husband. It was the doctor that encouraged me to give him a child and complete my wifely ties to my husband. My husband, wise man that he is, realized this as lessor men would not. In doing that, he created a marriage with me that has blessed us both.

When she told me that it was a little less than 50 years they had been married. They both remembered the doctor as a friend, and part of the success of their marriage. She told me the doctors had told her that she would not be there for their fiftieth wedding anniversary, and to on that day share with her husband that living with him all those years had made her life a dream of love and joy that she had lived every day for all those years. His wisdom, seeking understanding love and caring for her and her needs with unconventional wisdom and forgiveness for all those years was something she did not expect. She could never fully express in all those years how grateful she was, however, she had turned outward in his example and put his needs always first, as he had hers. That was the key of their successful marriage as it was of Gengus and his wife, and the millions of others who thought first of their partner's happiness and needs. Forgiving adultery, rape or any other cardinal failure and taking your lady home again, is an opportunity to show wisdom that benefits all. She had such a husband. How many women do?

I thought of this at Christmas. Wasn't it Jesus that stopped the stoning of the adulteress? He was a wise man too!