I Loved Her Too Much to Leave Her

It was happening again. I knew exactly what it was. She was bubbling over with happiness and laughter. She wanted to attend every club party. She dragged me out to dinner and dancing as often as she could and when we stayed home she fixed me gourmet meals. The real clincher was that she tried to fuck my brains out every time she got the chance. I had seen it before. It happened every two or three years.

My wife was fucking one of our friends. Who was it this time? If I wanted a happy loving wife and lots of pussy, this was it -- it would last about three months. If I didn't want my wife secretly banging a guy I played golf with, this was not it. Every time it happened I had to find out who he was. I had to do the same dreary thing all over again.

I have been married for over ten years to a breathtakingly beautiful woman -- with the body of Venus. Long, lovely legs made unbelievably sexy by spike heels - an ass that gave men an instant boner, when she walked in front of them. Breasts that bounced delightfully when she moved -- no matter how tight the bra. We had a wonderful home, belonged to a great club, and I had no money problems. Dad's company was booming and he was about to start gradual early retirement and turn it all over to me. My only problem was that every two or three years my wife had a brief affair with one of our friends.

Lisa and I had met in college and I had felt lucky to date her because she was the most popular gal on campus. Bright, articulate, artsy, and beautiful -- every guy wanted her. She didn't screw around -- I never once heard stories about even one guy getting into her pants. Maybe some did, but they never talked about it - she had a spotless reputation. I dated her a lot but not steady. Finally one night after a wonderful spring dance I got the nerve to ask her.

"Lisa," I said, nervous as hell, "would you wear my frat pin?"

She smiled like an angel. "I want to do that very much Bobby and it would be an honor, but I can't do it. I will go out with you as much as you want and I won't date anybody else, but I don't want to put myself in a position where you would get jealous if you saw me at lunch with another guy or if I had dinner with a old friend."

I felt hurt. "I don't understand -- we're dating steady -- why not wear my pin?"

"I've had really bad problems in the past with this kind of thing," Lisa said. "Last year I was going out a lot with this guy and a friend I'd known from high school came to town over a weekend. He took me out on a picnic and we had a wonderful time talking about people we knew who were at different colleges. My boyfriend found out about it and exploded in jealous rage. It was awful!"

I was puzzled. "Had you told him you wouldn't date anybody else?"

"I never promised that, exactly, but somehow he got that idea. And that same thing has happened with two other guys. A lot of my sorority sisters think it's fun and flattering to make a guy jealous. But jealousy just turns me off."

That should have sent a message I guess, but I didn't get it. She sent that message more than once. We dated only each other for two years and developed a solid and mutually rewarding sexual relationship. We had fallen in love.

During our senior year, late one afternoon, she introduced me to a guy she had gone to high school with. She said he was in town for the day and was going to take her to dinner that night so she could catch up on news of some old classmates.

I was caught completely by surprise. Stunned! I guess my mouth gaped open and I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I shook his hand and, standing there, the only thing that flashed through my mind was her story of the three guys she had dumped because they got jealous. He told her he'd pick her up at seven and headed back to town. She acted like nothing unusual was happening.

That night I was in torment. The girl I loved, the girl I thought of as "my" girl, the girl I was about to propose marriage to, was out with another guy -- and he was good looking.

The next day when I met her at the union building, she was all smiles -- laughter seemed to bubble out of her. Knowing what I know about her now, it was obvious that she had fucked her former classmate. But, then I was just happy that she was happy and that she had learned about her old friends. I was especially happy when she stayed at my apartment that night and we had one of the best, and varied, nights in bed ever. She just "bubbled" love and excitement.

I proposed to her just before graduation. It was a very serious evening. We spent a long time talking about our future together. We talked about where we would live, me joining dad's company and then running it when I learned how, and a lot of other things. We talked about why marriages worked and why they failed.

"Marriages fail because people have expectations that are not met," she said with a kind of finality. "You already know that I don't want to have children right away. But, if you expected me to have kids immediately, it would be a mistake to get married."

It was a long discussion and near the end she said, "I love you deeply, we are sexually compatible, and there's not a jealous bone in your body. That's important to me. I want very much to be your wife."

Why I remembered it at that moment, I'm not sure, but I thought about that "innocent" dinner she had had with an old classmate three months earlier, which had made her so happy. And I remembered the guys she broke up with because they got jealous. But, I loved her, and I wanted her.

I looked into her eyes. "I want very much to be your husband."

We were married right after graduation and our lives went exactly as we had planned. After a couple of years of very hard work we were settled in our house and joined the club and things were great. After we got settled down she didn't have much to do and I thought she got a bit depressed. Then, one evening Lisa came home from the club all bubbly and enthusiastic about a party the "girls" were planning for a club golf tournament. She and the club pro, Stan Morgan, were making the arrangements.

I was glad to see her happy. She was busy for a change and I thought being busy was a big part of her feeling better. She had been so active in college and then furnishing our new home the way she wanted it, that when things settled down, I figured she was bored. She needed something to do and this project at the club seemed to be it. For the next two months her life was one of phone calls and committee meetings and late nights at the club. The tournament was a great success. And our love life was great too.

But, a month or so after the tournament her activity slowed down gradually and we went to less parties and our fun in bed came back to our usual two or three times a week. I tried to interest her in various activities but nothing seemed to work. She was not depressed -- in fact she was normal -- but she was not on the high that planning that golf tournament had given her. We had a good life, a very good life, and good sex, very rewarding sex, but not like when she was planning that tournament.

A couple of years later we were approaching our fifth wedding anniversary and we wanted to make it special. Lisa and I talked about it a lot trying to decide what to do. She began to get excited looking at travel brochures to all sorts of exotic places. Then the old bubbly, smiley-faced, Lisa seemed to spring up from somewhere. It was party time again and the bedroom became a centerpiece of activity. WOW! I thought, if there was just some way to bottle this stuff and send Lisa into orbit whenever I felt like it!

We were in the middle of travel plans when, late one afternoon, my secretary tells me that there's a Mrs. Alban who would like to see me. Sue Alban I asked, and when my secretary nodded, I said to show her in.

What was Sue Alban doing making a visit to my downtown office. We see each other several times a week at the club. We had served on the club board together and on several committees. The Albans had been dinner guests at our house and we at theirs. They were about ten years older than us and he was a very successful businessman running the business her father had left her. Why was she here? This was strange.

"Come in Sue. Have a seat. What can I do for you?" I must have had a puzzled look on my face because of her response.

"You really have no idea at all why I'm here, do you?" Sue said. She was a chubby lady, attractive and modestly dressed. She was not smiling.

I shook my head no.

Sue sat in the big leather chair and I sat on the couch across the coffee table from her. Something was clearly disturbing her. She had a large manila envelope in her hand.

"First of all Bobby," she began, "my lawyer told me not to do this. Then he said it was so bad that he would be tempted to withdraw from the case if I did it. You know Gregory. He wouldn't dare! Not with all my family business that comes his way! So I'm doing it. Just be sure Lisa does not call Christopher tonight. Promise me."

I nodded. She was very, very serious about something.

"What is it Sue?" I asked.

"Christopher is having an affair with Lisa."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Bobby I won't mince words. My husband is fucking your wife. Is that something you can understand?"

Stunned would be an understatement for the way I felt.

"That's not possible," I said, "not possible at all."

She said not a word. She simply tossed the thick manila envelope onto the table. I picked it up, opened it, and took out a stack of papers and photographs. There was a videodisk. I went through the well-organized material, which contained dates and times of meetings between Lisa and Christopher at motels and hotels, complete with photographs of them together going in and out. The earliest date was several weeks after Lisa and I began planning our fifth anniversary excursion and the most recent one was two days ago.

"What does this mean?" I asked. "Sue, what does this mean?"

"Open the small white envelope," Sue said.

I found a small envelope filled with glossy colored prints. I gasped when I saw them. They were of Lisa and Christopher, naked, having sexual intercourse in a variety of positions and performing oral sex on each other.

"Those are just the highlights," Sue said. "The ones where both their faces show clearly. There's a lot with only asses and ... well ... other things showing."

I was in a daze. "So what happens now?" I asked.

"The case is complete. I have arranged to meet with Christopher and Gregory the first thing in the morning. To surprise him, I told him it was about our will. We have a generous settlement, which he will be offered. If he doesn't take it, then and there, we go to court. If that happens it's in all the newspapers -- front page of course -- and TV news and Lisa will be at the center of it. That's why I wanted to meet you first -- so you could prepare for it."

"Prepare? Prepare how? What can I possibly do?"

"Prepare yourself for a public scandal involving your wife. This is not the first time she's done this. Our investigators dug up some other stuff -- I don't know how -- about Lisa and that golf pro, Stan Morgan. You remember, he was very good and left the club a year or so ago for a club in Arizona. If her affair with Christopher comes out, her affair with the pro will probably go public as well. This could be very messy for you. That's why I had to tell you. I told Gregory that you would agree not to let Lisa make any phone calls to Christopher tonight. We want to surprise him."

I sat there bewildered. "May I have one of those pictures?" I asked.

"Take your pick," Sue said.

I selected one with Lisa astride Christopher, her lovely breasts hanging down into his hands and big smiles on both their clearly recognizable faces. I slipped it into my coat pocket. Then I thanked Sue for her courtesy and kindness, and after she left I told my secretary that I was going home early.

When I got home Lisa met me with a big smile and began to bubble about a party we were going to that night. She was ecstatic, as she had been for months. I took her arm and led her into the study.

"Lisa, we have a serious problem," I said, "and we need to talk about it. We need to get ourselves ready."

Lisa gave me a puzzled look. "Ready for what?"

"Sue found out about your affair with Christopher and she's going to divorce him. Sue and her lawyer are meeting with him tomorrow morning."

"Affair with Christopher? I'm not having an affair with Christopher! That's ridiculous!"

"Lisa, please, let's talk about this. I want to hear your side of it."

"My side of what? There is no affair!"

She seemed so honest and open. If I had not seen the photographs I would have believed her every word. It was as if, in her mind, there was no affair. I thought she might even pass a lie detector test! I saw that talking was useless. I took the picture out of my coat pocket and handed it to her.

She stared at it and her face slowly took on a look of pure disgust -- as if she were getting nauseous and about to throw up.

"I agree my dear. It is a disgusting picture. But you and Christopher are smiling."

It was hard for me not to add that final, unnecessary, remark. But, I was feeling a bit nauseous myself about the whole situation.

The next hour was pure hell. I hurt deep inside. I tried to control my temper. I listened to her soft loving talk and then her loud screaming accusations of jealousy. Finally she turned to pleading for forgiveness. In the end she simply jumped to her feet and ran upstairs, shouting back at me that I could sleep in the guest room.

She had left her purse on the table and I removed her cell phone and car keys and put them in my pocket. Then, I unplugged the master house phone so she could not make a call from an extension.

My mind was in turmoil but I had to think this through. In business I had analyzed information and made big decisions calmly all my life -- but now, with the biggest decision of my life facing me, my mind seemed confused and disorganized.

"Settle down!" I said it out loud.

Then I sat there quietly and asked myself what had she had said - exactly. In all the screaming and crying and begging, what had she really said?

She had said that Christopher had made her feel very happy and that this had made our own married life together happier. Okay, I didn't like it at all, but it was true.

She had said she was very sorry she had hurt me, but I should remember that he was married, she was not in love with him, and she was not about to leave me and run off with him. Okay, that was also probably true.

And, furthermore, she had planned to fuck him for only a few months. If the story about the golf pro were true, this was probably true. Christopher was short-term sex.

Finally, she said she wanted to stay with me because she loved me. This was probably true, but it was a strange kind of love that let her secretly fuck somebody else.

Then I asked myself what had she NOT said?

She had not said she was sorry that she fucked him. Just sorry I got hurt.

She had not said that she would never do it again. Just that she would stop.

She had not said that she felt guilty about what she had done.

The next afternoon, Sue Alban called me at my office to say that Christopher had accepted the settlement and signed the necessary papers. It was unlikely that Lisa's role in the matter would become public. I asked her for the information her lawyers had on Lisa's affair with the pro golfer two years ago and a summary of her affair with Christopher. She said she would send it to my office by messenger. I made arrangements for a quick trip to Phoenix to talk to Stan Morgan.

On the plane to Phoenix I reviewed the material that a number of investigators had collected on an affair between Lisa and the pro. It was scanty, but convincing -- it would stand up in court. I arranged to meet with Stan at my hotel that evening. He was upset that I wanted a meeting, but his very concern made me suspect that the allegations were true.

We met in the lounge of my hotel and sat in a booth where the waitress brought us each a single-malt on the rocks.

After a few pleasant exchanges about the old club and how he was doing at his new job, I pulled a summary of Lisa's affair out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. He started to read it -- stopped, looked up, and gave me a startled look -- then proceeded to read through the entire document.

"You have photographs?" He asked.

I nodded,

"Intimate photographs?"

I nodded again.

"What can I do for you?" Stan asked.

"It's very simple," I said. "In the course of the investigation, a good deal of information came up about your affair with Lisa two years ago."

His face showed not one spark of emotion. He stared at me and waited.

"I have information about Lisa and other men." This was a lie but Stan could not know that. "There seems to be a pattern. I need to be sure what it is. You can help me by telling me about your affair. If you do, I will not trouble you any further. If you refuse, I will have you deposed as a witness in a divorce trial."

I was bluffing. Stan looked off to his right out the window at passing traffic, thinking.

After a moment he said, "And my wife will not hear anything about this?"

"Your wife will never hear a thing," I assured him.

"Your word?"

"You have my word!"

"Okay, it's pretty simple," he said. "Lisa was asked to head the planning committee for a golf tournament and we had a lot of meetings together. She wanted to have extra meetings with me that seemed unnecessary, but I said okay. At these meetings she dressed in a very provocative way and quite openly flirted with me. There was no question that she wanted to f... , well ... to have sexual relations."

"The work 'fuck' does not disturb me Mr. Morgan. It has come up many times in the investigation of my wife's behavior," I said.

He continued. "The first time we had sex was in my office at the club, after the pro shop had closed. She was just too sexy to resist. She took off her shorts and panties and leaned back against the wall. I just ... well ... I just whipped it out and fucked her up against the wall. After that we had sex three or four times a week -- in my office, at motels, in my car, at your house -- I can't remember all the places but there was a hell of a lot of sex. It went on for about three months -- till about a month after that tournament. And then, she just lost interest and we quit -- just like that -- as fast as it had begun."

I nodded. "Where did you fuck at my place?"

"In the guest bedroom," Stan said. "Always in the guest bedroom."

"Would you like another single-malt?" I asked.

"No thank you," Stan answered. "I'm headed on home." He paused a moment. "Is this the last of it?"

I nodded. "The last you'll hear from me."

On my flight back the next day I began to ponder the situation, looking back to the first time I met Lisa. Several things about Lisa seemed far clearer to me now than ever before. For Lisa, sex was a form of social gratification -- a "high" that made her unusually happy -- what I had always seen as "bubbling" with joy. It was infectious -- it spread to me -- I felt better too. It had probably happened several times before, and I thought back through our lives searching for those moments.

Secondly, Lisa felt no guilt. She saw nothing wrong with it -- while at the same time knowing she had to keep it secret from a world she knew did not approve.

And of most importance for our future, I did not think Lisa could change. She was going to be like this for the rest of her life. If I did not use the evidence collected by Sue Alban to get a quiet divorce, I would face this same problem again in a year or two or three. I loved her. Did I love her too much to leave her? Could I live with this?