He Left His Heart in San Francisco

Brandon Smart did not give his heart easily. He'd given it to San Francisco ('the city by the bay' that Tony Bennett sang about) he'd given it to the first love of his life, Paige, and later, also to the woman who became his wife, Alana. And that was about it.

But what else was there in life? The most beautiful and exciting city in the world and the most beautiful and exciting woman in the world. What could be better?

He had graduated with a good degree in computer sciences from MIT, having been born in a modest rural town in New York State.

Whilst he was studying in his first year he had lost his two sisters, his parents and grandparents and his fiancée, Paige, in a fiery car wreck, when their large SUV had been crushed and burnt out by a drunk who had been driving a big rig towing a tanker filled with industrial alcohol.

Hearbroken, Brandon had thrown himself into his coursework and used his evening job to paper over the cracks in his life. His folks had been fairly well off, so Brandon did not hurt financially. Although, of course, he hurt in many other ways. He even blamed himself for the accident. After all, they had been driving to visit him, if he hadn't left home to go to college...

Therapy and counselling provided by the excellent and dedicated staff at the MIT Medical's Mental Health and Counseling Service helped him to the point that the hurt had changed from a burning shriek to a dull roar by the time he graduated, a year after his classmates, as he'd taken a year out when he lost his family and the woman who he was to have married. He still felt connected to Paige. He'd talk to her, ask her opinion on things, take her advice. It was as if he had a direct link to the part of Heaven she was living in.

But despite the terrible loss of his entire family and his bride-to-be, Brandon got a very good Masters degree and with it landed a job with Google at the Googleplex in Mountain View, Santa Clara.

Brandon loved California. Well, Northern California, to be honest. Southern California was, he supposed, all right, but he seemed to fit in with the buzz around the San Francisco Bay area, way better than the Hollywood vibe. Plus he found the Southern part of the State just a little too hot for his East Coast body!

He met up with Mitchell 'Mitch' Clifton and his delightful wife Sandra (otherwise known as Sandy) when the Santa Clara Business Guild held an open house for the denizens of Silicon Valley. They'd married whilst they were both students at Caltec and straight out of college, Mitch and Sandy had launched a computing and software house which had prospered. But now it needed a good Systems Man to help them take their business to the next level.

Brandon handed his notice in to Google and a month later he was working for Advanced Synergies, who were doing contract work for many of the key players in Silicon Valley.

It was in his second month that Alana Banes started work at Advanced Synergies. She was a gorgeous blonde, well built and it was that --and her sharp mind- that captured Brendon's interest.

Since Paige's death, he had kept his heart on a strict lockdown. But Alana somehow managed to sidestep that and pretty soon they were an item.

After six months of courtship, they became married with Mitch as the best man and Sandy as the Matron of Honour.

They bought a house twenty minutes drive from the home of Mitch and Sandy. Due to the fact that Advanced Synergies was able to pay top Dollar, the houses they bought were in more prosperous parts of Santa Clara.

Everything was going well and Brandon and Alana had talked about starting a family, but they decided to leave it for a couple more years, with Alana continuing to take her birth control injections.

As well as working with Mitch and Sandy at Advanced Synergies, Brandon and Alana also saw a great deal of them socially. They vacationed together, had dinner parties, barbequed at each others houses and spent alternative Christmases in one house or the other.

After four years of wedded bliss (as they used to call it) and after a session of vigorous lovemaking, whilst they were in the afterglow, Alana glanced at Brandon and gave him a nervous smile. "Honey, I have a question for you. Someone I talked to the other day mentioned the idea of swinging to me."

She looked at him and said: "In general, what do you think of the idea of swinging? Of having an open marriage?"

His answer had been unequivocal. "Not interested in it, Alana. Not in the slightest! You are the only woman I want or need. If some people like swinging, well, whatever floats their boat! But I am definitely not interested."

If he'd have looked in her eyes at that moment, he would have seen a fleeting look of disappointment...

A month later, Mitch decided to arrange for a catered meeting in the conference room of Advanced Synergies. The variety of foods and drinks reminded Brandon of his days at the Googleplex. Funny, but Mitch rarely ever did this kind of thing. Was it a new idea? He hoped so.

Mitch gave a Powerpoint lecture about how, whilst business was good, it was foolish to put all their eggs in one basket. Almost 98 percent of their business involved working with other Silicon Valley-based concerns.

He had a solution. There would be a team of people who would be employed to seek out non-Silicon Valley concerns who would benefit from the unique skills sets that Advanced Synergies had to offer. It would be called the Promotion Team, as it would promote the business.

As well as his normal duties, Brandon would receive promotion to director level, and would be responsible for managing this fledging team. Part of his duties would involve flying out to the members of this team and offering them any support they required when pitching the services of Advanced Synergies to potential clients.

When he told Alana of his news, she seemed even more excited than he was! She squealed like a little girl at Christmas! "Oh, Brandon! This is great news! It's the kind of job that could mean great things for you. For us! Will it involve business trips?"

That sudden change of subject puzzled Brandon. But he put it down to Alana not wanting to be separated from him. "I am sorry, honey, but, yes, there will be some trips away. Look, if that's something you are not comfortable with, I can turn down the promotion."

She quickly replied: "Oh, no, Brandon! You mustn't do that! I'll miss you, of course, when you are on your business trips, but just think of the making up!"

They both laughed and chatted about how he could work in his new role.

It took him several weeks to work out how to integrate his new role into what he still regarded as his primary role and his role as a sort of company ambassador.

After the first year it seemed natural now to often spend a couple of nights a week away from Alana, his loving, caring wife. "My wife's a really good sport about this," he told a colleague when he was spending two nights in New York, trying to drum up business.

His colleague looked at him askance: "Really? My old lady would have my balls on a platter if I spent so many nights away from home! You must have a very understanding wife!"

Brandon nodded and said: "I certainly do! And the make-up sex is pretty good, too!"

They chuckled at his remark.

Eighteen months in to the role Brandon was due to fly over to Boston. He arrived at the airport for a mid-morning flight when he received a text message on his smartphone telling him that the meeting had been cancelled due to two of the three participants being stranded in Europe.

He decided that he would take Alana out for a late lunch. When he tried to phone her, he noticed the words: 'General Fail' on the screen of his phone. "Guess I'll have to really surprise her!" he thought to himself as he made his way back to the airport parking garage to reclaim his car.

But it was Brandon who was to be really surprised.

He parked his car, walked to his front door, opened it and closed it carefully and quietly. Alana had a phobia about doors being slammed and she had instilled it into Brandon's mind so subtly that it was by now second nature to him to close doors quietly.

It was such a fucking cliché! He heard sounds from upstairs. The sound of bedsprings making the sweet music of love. Only there should be no 'love orchestra' playing, not with only one person up there. Unless...?

He crept up the stairs, walked down the landing and he saw his wife Alana having sex with his best friend, Mitch. She was facing Mitch, sliding up and down on his cock. And she was clearly enjoying it, very much.

It was not so much the fact that she was physically cheating on him, he was eventually able to tell his counsellor, it was more what she was saying whilst she was doing it that really devastated him and shattered his heart.

There was a violent pounding on the door of the house Sandy shared with Mitch. She hurried to the door, concerned, yet also irritated at the insistent noise.

She opened it and saw Brandon standing there. He looked to be in shock. "What the hell are you doing here, Brandon? Aren't you supposed to be in Boston?"

He looked at her; she noticed there were tears in his eyes. He spoke haltingly: "Meeting was cancelled... I... my phone died, so I wanted to take Alana out for lunch. I got home and I... just saw Mitch and Alana... they were in our bed... fucking."

Sandy made a noise, which sounded like a cross between a bark and a laugh. She wanted to shout: "WELL, DUHHH!" at him. But then she noticed the lost, empty look in his eyes. And she suddenly knew her marriage was over.

She gently took him by the arm and led him through into the lounge. She felt very angry. She wanted to rave, to rail against whatever shit had been going on. Which, she now realised, was clearly vastly different from the shit she had been led to believe had been going on.

But she knew she did not have that luxury just at that moment. Now, she had to concentrate her efforts and her mind on helping her best and dearest friend cope with what he had just witnessed.

She sat him down on their large sofa, and took up a position next to him. "Brandon, if you want to, you can talk to me. I am your friend. I will help you get through this."

He hugged her and started sobbing, horrible, loud sobs that came from deep within a well of ultimate misery.

She held him, rocking him as she would a distressed child. She stroked his head, making shushing sounds. "It's OK, Brandon. It's OK, I am here for you just, cry it out, Honey."

Eventually he stopped crying, and wiped his eyes with a box of tissues she had given to him. "I am sorry for breaking down like that, but when I saw them, and heard them, heard what they were saying, I just lost it."

She nodded. "Do they know you saw them?"

He shook his head. "No. I was too much of a coward. I ran away."

"That's not cowardly, Brandon, that's sensible. Anyway, what did they say?"

"They were mocking me, saying how stupid I was not to realise I was their cuckold. Then Mitch asked her how come I never noticed I was drinking his cum out of her when she made me go down on him after he'd been with her."

Sandy stiffened and blanched at that horrible revelation.

Suddenly, Brandon looked stricken and he put his hand to his mouth. "Oh, God! I drank his cum out of her!"

Sandy grabbed a metal wastepaper basket and pushed it in front of Brendon. He vomited several times before getting into dry heaves.

After his dry heaves subsided, Sandy realised that Brandon needed the truth. "Brandon, I hope this will not make you think any less of me... but... Mitchell and I are swingers. Otherwise known as wife swappers. Mitchell kind of talked me into it, I tried it a few times, but I was never as into it as Mitchell was.

"Then one day Mitchell said that Alana wanted to have a talk. I guess you must have been at work, as you weren't there. They told me that Alana wanted to be involved with Mitchell, with a partner swap, but that would not be possible 100 percent because although you were happy with the idea of allowing Alana to be had by Mitchell, that you did not want to swap, but that you agreed to let Alana and Mitchell 'play' together, but that the deal was that this must never be discussed by any of us as a group. And I was never to talk to him about it.

"Because although you did not mind them having sex together, that you did not want anyone else, including me, to know what was happening. It's my guess now that you never agreed to any such thing, did you Brandon? Shit! I feel such a fool!"

Brandon nodded. "That's right, Sandy, I never knew anything about it. I recall that just before I got promoted to the board and had responsibility for overseeing the Promotion Team, that Alana asked me if I'd ever consider the swinging lifestyle. I told her that there was no way I'd want to do that, as she was the only woman I needed."

"So," said Sandy, bitterly, "they decided to act as if you'd said yes, but they would have to sneak around and have an affair. The rotten, conniving bastards!"

Brandon nodded. "That's what must have happened. But there's worse. You know we had been thinking of having a child? Well, they decided to go one better with this cuckolding deal. They were talking about how good it would be to have Mitchell make Alana pregnant, then they'd pass the child off as mine. They were really getting off on the idea of how stupid we'd be. I'd pay for the upkeep of Mitchell's child, and you'd be asked to baby sit and hold the child and not know that it was Mitchell's baby, and not mine."

Sandy looked at him. "I thought they loved us? How could they do this to us? Right! That settles it! Those bastards are coming here and they'll face the music!"

She picked up her mobile from the coffee table in front of them and dialled Mitchell's number. Brandon only heard one side of the conversation. She sounded angry and spoke in clipped tones. "Mitchell, I want you to come home, at once! And bring Alana with you. Well, that's too fucking bad, 'honey' when I say at once, I mean at once! Well, just skip having a damned shower, you idiot!"

She broke the connection and made a weak smile to Brandon, saying: "Well, that should get them here." She shrugged and added: "And if they don't, there are always the lawyers to sort them out."

Twenty minutes later, they arrived, looking angry. The angry looks changed to concern, perhaps even fear, when they saw that Brandon was sitting on the sofa. They exchanged glances and Alana spoke to Brandon, a concerned tone in her voice. "Brandon, honey? Why are you here? What's happened? Why are you so upset? Have you... being crying?"

Brandon looked at her, a bleak expression on his face. Before Brandon could say anything, Sandy jumped to her feet and got into her face. "He knows, you pair of bastards! He knows everything!" Her anger was so strong it was almost visible.

Alana staggered backward a few steps, and clutched at Mitchell for support. This infuriated Sandy, even more. "That's it! The two cuckolding, two-timing bastards clinging to each other!"

"Jesus, Sandy! What the hell did you tell him for? Didn't I tell you that he didn't want to know?" shouted Mitchell.

Sandy screamed at him, a wordless, angry yell. Then she said: "You, stupid, selfish jerk! I didn't tell him! He told me!"

"Oh, no!" wailed Alana. How... did you hire a private eye, Brandon? I tried to be as discrete as possible. You were never to know!"

Brandon gazed at her. To Sandy it was obvious that he was in a state of shock.

"No, you fucking bitch! He found out because his Boston meeting was cancelled, then his phone died, so he couldn't phone you to tell you of his change in plans, so he was going home to take you out to lunch. Then he found you two fucking in his bed. And until then, he did not have a clue you'd made him your cuckold! So how discrete was that, you stupid fucking bitch?"

Busted! The expression on the faces of the two lovers said it all.

"We need to discuss this like calm, rational adults," intoned Mitchell, trying to regain control of the situation.

"You can fuck right off!" responded Sandy. "You have cheated on both of us! So fuck you and your calm rational shit!"

"Sandy," said Mitchell. "You are forgetting, we have an open marriage!"

"There's a difference between an open marriage and an open sewer, you moron! You have been fucking Alana for nearly two years, behind her husband's back. You both lied to me! You told me Brandon did not mind you and her fucking, but that was a lie! You lied to me; you cheated on me and on him! Shame on you both!"

They stood there, the two cheaters, like deer in headlights, not know what to do or say.

Eventually Alana detached herself from Mitchell, realising that if she had any chance whatsoever of saving her marriage, clinging to her lover in front of her husband would probably not help. She sat down on an easy chair that left her looking directly at her husband from the other side of the coffee table. Mitchell continued to stand.

"Brandon, honey, what did you see? What did you hear?" She knew she and Mitchell had talked, but she could not at that precise moment remember what they'd talked about.

He looked at her; the dull look in his eyes frightened her. She suddenly felt concern over what she had done to her husband, though she acknowledged to herself that it was too late for any feelings of concern, guilt or remorse.

"I heard you say how you enjoyed cuckolding me. How you enjoyed making me clean your lover's sperm out of you, how you were going to have his baby and make me think it was mine, how you'd fool both me and Sandy. How you'd enjoy watching us with the baby, knowing Mitchell had fathered it, not me."

Alana put her head in her hands and started to weep.

"Too late for tears, you bitch!" shouted Sandy, angry once again.

Mitchell was still standing, he looked crestfallen. He spoke to Sandy. "Sandy, I am sorry. It's not as bad as it sounds, can we get over this? Please?"

"Get over it? What on earth do you..."

They were interrupted by a sudden outburst of agony from Brandon. "Oh, God! Paige! I am so sorry! Paige, I thought you were there for me! I thought you told me I could marry Alana and that she'd love me as much as you loved me! But she didn't! She doesn't love me at all! I spoke to you every day, Paige, told you of my day, you'd answer back, tell me things to boost me when I was down, or tell me off when I needed a kick. But now with Alana and Mitchell fucking like they did, being lovers, now I know the truth, Paige! You don't exist! You really are dead! And there's no afterlife! All my talks with you, it was just my imagination playing tricks on me!"

He staggered to his feet, looked at Alana and shook his fists at her. "It's you! It's your fault! Now I know my Paige is dead and gone forever, that I'll never see her again!"

He collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

They all looked at each other, horrified at what they'd seen. Alana had always, at the back of her mind, wondered how Brandon would react should he ever find out about her cheating. But in her mind's eye she had seen a few tears, some angry words and a lot of make up sex.

But what she hadn't counted on was that he would take it so badly. She had totally and completely destroyed him. She ran over to comfort him, but he visibly cringed from her. Sandy walked the few steps to him and sat down on the floor, cuddling him.

She looked up at Alana and shook her head. "You fucking bitch. I hate you for what you did to Brandon."

Alana shook her head. "But it wasn't supposed to be like this! None of it! I never wanted Brandon to be hurt. Not this much! I sort of guessed he'd be upset if he found out about me and Mitchell, but I never figured it would be this bad for him!"