Melissa and Roland Ch. 04

Chapter 4: A Confession - Jan 2012 to March 2012

Thanks to all for the feedback on earlier chapters. It means so much to a writer to get positive notices!

Enjoy!!

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My insurance company was buying a smaller firm in Cambridge, England and needed to send a team of people there to work out the operational details. The position of team lead for this group of U.S. employees was going to be high profile (dotted line to the CEO) and very much a stepping stone into senior management and all that goes with it.

And I played it exactly right. A few quiet conversations with people that I knew would influence the decision. Nothing overt. No begging. No trying show up the other candidates. Just very quiet and methodical. So that when the decision came in I was not even a little surprised that I had been selected.

The job meant moving to England for 3 months with only one company reimbursed trip back home. They weren't being cheap, they were being reasonable about the fact that I'd be working non-stop. I just knew I had to take it.

And knew that Melissa would support me in that decision. Which she did. Completely.

During the 2 weeks before my departure the old fire started burning again - big time. We probably made love in that period more than we had over the previous 3 months. And I discovered a new passion that I knew she loved: eating her pussy.

I told you that Melissa was a more experimental in sexual matters than I was. From the time we started dating she would suck me off and swallow or take a facial almost anytime and anywhere. Which makes me all the more embarrassed that I hardly ever returned the favor. I mean I had gone down on her and even had brought her to orgasm that way but I had maybe done that once for every 10 times she blew me. Why I still don't know. Maybe I was too worried about doing it right. Maybe she was too nice to insist.

In any event I started eating her pussy then like mad and within a few days had figured out how to bring her to an explosive orgasm through a combination of fingers hooked in just right to her G-spot and a soft sweet willing tongue and set of lips on her clit. It was lovely. How had I overlooked the absolute deliciousness of her cunt all this time?

So when it was time to leave I went off feeling like the King of the Jungle. She was my woman. I was her man. Everything about her excited me so completely. And now I felt like I was doing the same for her. I went away feeling like we were more in love than ever. To be completely truthful I still believe that - that Melissa and I had entered a new zone of love, of complete love and trust and respect, in the time before Cambridge.

We had promised that we would Skype and chat and text and call nonstop, and we both did. For the first few weeks at least. After that it may have slowed a little but I knew that Melissa was still my number one priority. So I checked in with her frequently to make sure she was safe and happy and comfortable. And each and every time she was fine.

She did in fact get promoted to supervisor then, while I was away, and that gave her a raise to something which was finally respectable. She seemed a little dazed at times and maybe a bit anxious and frazzled but I figured it went with her increasing responsibility and workload. Plus I figured I was probably the same. So all seemed good.

About 5 weeks into my project, with things going better than any of us had hoped, I decided to take that one week respite back in the U.S. During that week it was understood that I would show up at the office regularly enough to give senior management all the stroking and updating they could stand. Other than that I could let my priorities be to rest up, to recharge and to focus on my home life. Which is exactly what I did.

The first few days were great. Melissa met me at the airport, took me home and gave me all the kisses and sweet words I wanted. Then she had to get back to work for some late afternoon meetings. I unpacked and did a little laundry. Then I napped.

When she got back in the door at 6 I had the romantic music playing and dinner on the table. We both had so many work stories to tell I finally had to drag her away from the wine and get her into the bedroom to strip her, kneel before her and open up her oyster with my mouth and tongue. Delicious. And for her orgasmically delicious.

The next couple of days were similar. She did seem the tiniest bit nervous and strange, but I chalked it up again to the pressure at work. Melissa had tried to get the week off so we could be together but then her closest colleague came down with the flu and her boss had to say no at the last minute. I did my best to understand for her sake. It was what it was.

Still we could reprise that first evening starting around 6 or 7 and we did, at least twice we did. For on the 4th night into my stay things changed. A lot.

It began well when we got into bed that evening. She gave me a blowjob, a very nice one too. And then I was scooching down under the covers to return the favor when I heard:

"Jeff?"

"Yeah. So sweet here honey."

"Jeff." A little more insistently I thought.

"Yeah honey, what is it?"

"Jeff. We need to talk."

"We do honey and we will. But not right now. OK? It's dark down here but I think I see a little clearing in the forest and there appears to be some sort of tribal god or statue. She's all red and pink and wet looking and she's demanding that I worship her with my mouth so..."

"Jeff! Not right now please. Can we just talk? Can we? Before I lose my nerve?"

That certainly got my attention. So my head rose up from under the covers and I could see her face pretty well by the low light we kept on for lovemaking. And her face told me. Something at least. Not everything of course. But something.

"Sure baby. What is it?" And I remember I thought right away that it must be something at her work, like something she had screwed up, maybe something that was going to get her demoted or, God forbid, fired. Which would be terrible for her. So I was all ears.

"Jeff. While you were away...something...something happened."

I scooched up beside her and took her hand. I wanted her to be able to say whatever was bothering her in her own way and at her own speed. So I just nodded.

"Something happened with me...or to me"

A cautious "OK."

"And I need to tell you. I didn't want to because of your job and all the pressure. And I wanted you to enjoy your week. But I just can't anymore."

With that she burst into tears. To my astonishment. She had never been one to cry very much.

I shifted over to kiss her cheek but she shrugged me away.

"What is it Melissa? What's bothering you?"

She reached for a tissue to dry her eyes. Tears were falling on her beautiful breasts.

"Oh My God. I'm such a loser. I can't even say it."

"Go on. Of course you can honey. Whatever it is. Cause we'll handle it. Together. Like we always do."

But now I was thinking it was really serious. Like she really had been fired. Or got into some legal trouble. Or, God forbid!, that she was sick. That she was in real peril.

My arm went around her and I helped dry her tears. My head was buzzing with anxiety for her, but I waited while she cried some more.

"Melissa. Please. I have to know if I can help you. Please. What is it?"

She looked away and blew her nose. Then dried her tears again. When she turned back to me her face somehow looked hard, hard and determined. My head snapped back a bit at the sight. Her lips were pursed together, her jaw clenched. I thought then that maybe it was me. Was she was pissed at something I'd done? What had I fucked up?

"Jeff. I've been cheating. Cheating on..."

"Cheating how? At what?" Because I couldn't make sense of it at first.

"On you Jeff. I cheated. I slept with a man."

Then I got it. Oh my did I ever get it then. And shot up out of the bed. Like I'd been hit with a taser.

"What? What are you telling me? Some guy - you let some guy fuck you?"

"Jeff, please. Let's not..."

"Let's not what?"

"Let's not scream at each other. Please!"

So I screamed a little louder. "You let him fuck you?"

Then I was moving up and down the room, clenching my fists as I went. I don't know what I was thinking then. It wasn't good. I was marching around the bedroom barking "He fucked you? You let him?" All the time wondering where and how and why and who and how could this happen to me? But it felt like the inside of my head was on fire.

When I turned back she was in full tears mode again and I thought something really bad about her for the first time ever. I remember it exactly. It was "Cunt thinks she can get out of this with tears, she got another thing coming." But maybe thinking something bad was necessary then. I had shocked myself a bit with the thought and it had the effect of calming me down a little.

"Stop!" and I repeated it. "Stop Melissa. You don't cry and I won't scream. Is that a deal?"

And you know she stopped crying then kind of on a dime and I had my 2nd bad thought about her ever. "Pretty convenient for a slut to be able to turn them off and on like that."

She got up on the far side of the bed from me and put on her robe. She said "Let me make some tea. We can talk."

"OK. Fine by me. Just tell me first, who was it?"

"Well who is not important."

"Yeah right. You let some guy fuck you and then tell me it's not important."

"That's not what I said. I said who did it wasn't important, not that it happened isn't important."

"Yeah. Sure." But she was gone out of the bedroom to make that tea. And her answer turned out to be the biggest lie of the evening.

We ended up staying up that night until 3 A.M. After that I slept a little till maybe 6. I don't think Melissa ever slept at all. And when I woke up at 6 she was gone. To work. Supposedly.

What I had learned between 10:30 and 3 A.M. was this: that his name was Roland, that no he wasn't a co-worker, that her brother had hosted a dinner party two weeks after I left and had introduced them, that Roland was a gentleman, that he was kind, that he was funny, intelligent and rich, that he had asked for her number right there at dinner in front of the brother, that he was black, that she was attracted to him but knew she shouldn't be, that he had a way of being insistent without seeming rude or a jerk, that she said no to giving him the number, that she took his number when she wouldn't give him her own, that she stewed over it for a few days but never called him, that a week later he called her having got her number from "somewhere," that she finally agreed to go out but just for one drink, that they ended up going to dinner, that he brought her back to his condominium, that he fucked her there and that she had spent the night.

And also that she'd done something similar either 7 or 8 more times since then. And somehow it really bothered me a lot that she didn't even know the total. That they'd spent the day before my return fucking. That she still loved me. But that she loved him too. That she couldn't promise it wouldn't happen again. And finally that she thought it would happen again. Which was her way of telling me that she could promise one thing: that she'd be spreading her legs for him again in the near future.

"But why? Why?" I kept saying. "And why did that asshole brother of yours introduce you to begin with."

"Oh! Leave Brian out of this. It's complicated enough."

"Asshole has always had it in for me." And I know I was right about that. The two of us had never hit it off and after various run-ins early in my relationship with Melissa basically had stopped talking altogether. I knew a few bad things about him and he knew that I knew. So I didn't really have to wonder what "somewhere" had magically delivered her number to the other asshole, the one banging my wife. The asshole Brian had pimped out his own sister to fuck with my life.

Still there was no way forward on that front. So I retreated on the Brian thing.

"But why - I mean why for you? Why would you? How could you?"

She sniffled into a hankie. "He's nice."

"Nice! Holy fuck! Am I not nice?"

"Of course you..."

"Have I not been nice and kind and faithful to you?"

"Yes you have." She reached across for my hand then, but I pulled mine back in time.

"Then why?"

I tried glaring at her but she met my eyes anyway.

"Jeff. A woman doesn't always know why. Some things just are. They just happen."

I wasn't letting her get off with that bullshit.

"Listen. Letting a guy fuck you after three years of marriage doesn't just happen. After us trying so hard for a baby." And I'm wondering: did she get herself back on the pill cause of her job or just in order to fuck this guy? "There's a reason. And you owe it to me to tell me." I was trying to control my voice. Trying not to shriek.

She was almost not crying and the tea untouched in front of us. "You're right. I know you are."

"Yes?"

I could see her trying to gather her courage. And she did taste the tea then for the first time.

"Well. He's nice...but he...he's...he's just good at some things I guess. Some things I need. He takes charge...he is in charge I mean...and he pushes me. Challenges me to do certain things."

"Pushes you? How? What's that mean?"

"Well lots of ways. I know you're probably going to think it's just sex, but it's not. He's very direct and forceful, gets me going, and gets me to take risks, like at work. He's helped me so much with work. He gets me focused, gives me courage to be myself."

She paused for more tea even though I was pretty sure it would be cold by then.

"That's it?" Thinking how he couldn't possibly have done any of that before their first fuck. She was lying.

"Well no ...not really." She paused, sniffled and got her hard face back again. "To be honest it is sexual too." She saw me cringe but went on. "It's like when I'm with him sometimes I feel like my head is going to blow off. Or like I can't breathe. Like I can't keep up with him. He's demanding and ...aaaah...pretty forceful. Like he's in control of me."

"Fuck." Was my entire reaction.

"I'm sorry but I'm trying to tell you the truth. And I...well to be honest...I...I have always needed that, have needed to be controlled, controlled by a man. You ought to know that. Do you? Do you know what I mean? Can you understand that? That I've always had the need?"

And I felt my heart sink then. Cause I did know. I knew exactly what she was talking about. She really did want to be tamed. All those times I'd worried about keeping up with her were times when her need got the better of her. And I knew those were times I didn't have what she needed. At least not sexually. Maybe not in other ways too. And apparently this asshole Roland did.

But I couldn't give up. I had to fight. To fight for my life it seemed at the time.

"Well don't I? Don't I make you cum? I thought..."

"Of course you do."

"And didn't I get you to take risks at work, like the supervisor position? When you weren't sure?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"It's different with him. I love you Jeff. I will always love you. Always, always, always! But it's different. And no you didn't want me taking risks at work, you told me just to follow orders, to play it safe, to climb the ladder slowly. You know like you do it yourself. But I'm different than you are."

She looked at me a little weepy but then her face hardened again as it had before.

"And sex with you is nice. I do like it." She had said it in a pretty gentle, innocuous way, as if describing gentle, innocuous sex. Do you know what it's like to have the most desirable girl in the world tell you that sex with you is "nice?"

"You do make me cum when we make love. You make me cum because you know I want it."

"Yes...and? I mean how is that a bad thing?"

"Oh. It's not, not at all. But Roland makes me cum because he wants it. Because he knows what he wants and takes it. He makes me do things. Things he ...things he wants. Things he just takes."

She was crying a little when she said this and so technically she was breaking our rule. But I didn't feel like screaming back anyhow.

"So he makes you do things in bed. Big fuckin' deal. I could..."

"No...no you can't. Don't you see? He makes me do things, things I've always wanted to be made to do. Things I've needed to do for a man. And that's just not you. I'm sorry. It's not."

She looked at me solemnly through the tears, begging me to understand. And I think I was beginning to.

"And you like that? You really want to be dominated like that?"

"Oh My God yes." It almost burst from her lips - she'd been dying to get it out.

I took a breath and finally asked directly. "Do you love him?"

She hesitated but just for a second. "I...I...think I do. I mean I do. I love him." What was left of my anger and confidence evaporated. She loved him. It was over. Lies or not it was over.

So I tried being mean. "Maybe you just want to be his slut."

"Don't do that Jeff. Don't be nasty. Please!"

"I'm not. I'm really asking cause ..."

"Both then."

"What? Both what?"

"Both I love him and I want to be his slut." And I could see it made her feel better to say that, to admit it.

I could feel my anger rising again.

She looked at me sadly. "It just is what it is."

She saw it in my face and tried to soften it. "Isn't that what you always say?" Like she was surprised I didn't think using one of my pat office sayings was useful in a case of adultery.

"You just like the way he fucks you. You just admitted you're a slut."

"Jeff!" Now she was almost screaming. "I also love how we make love. It's sweet and gentle and loving and ..."

"What the fuck! You make me sound like a pussy."

"No..."

"You are. You're saying I'm a pussy."

"No Jeff. I never ..."

"But you are. Go ahead and say it. Say I'm a pussy who won't demand cunt service from you the way you like. Who won't fuck you in the ass so your parents can hear you scream."

"Jeff. I... Don't you see? Don't you see the difference? And if that makes you a pussy then..."

And then it all broke inside me.

"You fucking cunt. You fucking slut of a whore of a cunt. You're calling me a pussy? Why? Cause I went down on you all those times at night and made you cum? I'm sure Roland what-the-fuck would have been driving his cock up your ass instead so you'd be happy."

"Jeff. Please." And she was crying pretty hard then.

"Stop. Enough. This fucked up marriage is over. As of now. Over. You can have all the black cock in your ass that you want now. Happy?"

And I walked into the den and slammed the door. Amazingly I was able to sleep a little. I had no idea why I had focused my rant on him being in her ass. It just seemed right at the time.