6-4=3

Her words made me smile. Just hearing about that fact that Ben loved me so much reassured me that this latest crisis would pass soon and things would go back to normal. It also made me feel a little guilty about what I was doing both to Ben and to Betty. What I was doing to Betty was in her own best interest. What I was doing to my husband though, was inexcusable. My frown deepened and I realized that thought it had begun with the best of intentions, it was still WRONG.

"I have a really big problem that you probably won't be able to relate to," she continued. "But since you started it, I need you to help me figure out what I should do."

"How did I start..." I began.

"Just let me tell you," she snapped. "I need to get this out." I nodded and she took a deep breath.

"I'm a whore," she said. Just like that, I burst out laughing. I couldn't even stand up I laughed so hard. Betty looked like Edith Bunker from "All in the Family."

Even made up and dressed nicely, she looked like your average frumpy fifty year old woman. I couldn't imagine her saying, "Pussy," let alone letting someone other than Greg, see hers. So the idea of her being a whore was just funny.

"Will you listen to me, dammit," she said seriously. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was upset so I got quiet.

"Do you remember about a year ago when we had that talk about my marriage?" she asked and I nodded. "Well, I was sure that I was going to lose Greg. Things had gotten to the point where we barely talked to each other. Do you remember that?" I nodded again.

"Sandy, you saved my marriage," she said. "You made me see that what was going on with us was at least partially my fault. It's just the way I was brought up. I guess I always thought that a woman was supposed to just take care of the house and occasionally submit to her husband's desire. I couldn't figure out why it seemed like Greg didn't want to be married to me anymore. Then you told me all of that stuff about fixing myself up for him. And you told me that he probably needed a lot more sex than I was giving him. But the most important thing you told me was that women were supposed to want sex too. I guess I'd been denying that I even had those feelings. But I figured if all of that shit worked for you, it would work for me."

"At first I just did it to see if it made any difference. Almost immediately, I noticed a change in Greg and all I'd done was put some lipstick on. Then I started going whole hog. I figured if lipstick worked why not try the rest. Shit, if I could dress up to go to church, why couldn't I dress up for the man I was supposed to be spending the rest of my life with?"

"The next thing I knew, Greg started treating me a lot nicer," she smiled. I knew that Greg had started treating her nicer because I'd started fucking him.

"Then he started wanting us too...you know," she said. "I told myself that it wasn't that bad and we were married. But I also did what you told me to and I told him what felt good to me and what I wanted him to do to me. I started to not mind it so much. Now we're at the point where we do it every week, sometimes even twice a week."

"That's great, Betty," I said. I was really thinking that if Ben only fucked me twice in a week, I'd go crazy. We sometimes did it more than twice in a day.

"That was only the start of it," she said. "Other people started to look at me too. One of them works at the market. He started giving me extra things when I shopped there and it just went further than I ever expected. He was paying me almost as much attention as Greg does and I...I...I let him do it to me, Sandy. I'm a whore." She started crying then. I could tell she was upset.

"Cheaters are the worst people on earth, Sandy. I deserve to go to hell. I don't deserve to stay married to Greg. He works his ass off to provide for us and I betrayed him in the worst way possible. I wish this was the biblical times and they'd tie me up and stone me to death. I wish I could kill myself but I don't have the courage to do it. Even when that man was going crazy because I wasn't doing my wifely duties enough for him, he stayed with me, Sandy. But I go out and let some stranger fuck me in the alley for an extra package of bologna."

"Sandy, I don't want to go to hell," she said. She had a manic look in her eyes as she said it. "But I'd gladly burn for eternity just to be able to look in Greg's eyes again without feeling all of this God damned guilt. That man loves me, Sandy. Maybe it's not one of those fairy tale loves like you and Ben, but it's the regular guy, regular girl kind of love and I ruined it."

I had to work very hard to keep myself composed because as bad as Betty thought she was, she was an angel compared to me. If Betty was going to hell, where the fuck was I going?

"You know what the worst part is?" she asked. I shook my head. "After he'd gotten what he wanted from me, he just zipped up his pants and walked away from me. When I go into the store now, he doesn't even talk to me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I've caught him pointing at me when he talks to his friends. And they all snicker at me. I told Greg that I have to shop at a different market because the prices are cheaper, but really it's ME that's cheap."

Betty had tears running down her face and she couldn't stop crying. I had to find a way to get rid of her because I had to do the same thing she was doing. I needed to sit down and have a long cry.

"Betty, when you do something that's wrong to someone you love, it's the worst feeling in the world. First, you feel badly because you've done something wrong, especially a person as nice as you are Betty. Then you feel badly because you've hurt the person you love. But in your case Betty, you haven't really hurt Greg. He doesn't know what you've done. The best thing to do is to do all you can to make it up to him. Whatever he likes, do it more or make it for him. You just need to do something extra for him to make up for what you did. As far as how you feel, the guilt you're going to carry around with you is your punishment. For the rest of your life you're going to remember that you did a very bad thing. Remembering that you did it and how it made you feel, will make sure that you don't EVER do it again."

I looked at my watch like I had somewhere to go. "Thank you so much Sandy," she gushed. "You're right. I have to make sure that Greg knows exactly how much I love him. I won't ever set foot in that market again and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to him. Do you think I'll still go to hell?"

"Betty, I'm not a priest," I said. "But I'm pretty sure that God doesn't expect us to be perfect. God only expects us to try. It's our husbands that expect us to be perfect." I looked at my watch again. This time Betty caught it.

"I'm going to get out of here and let you go," she said. "Let me guess, you're having Ben come home for a quickie, right?" I just nodded as she headed for the door telling me good luck as she closed it.

As soon as I made sure she was in her car and driving away, I locked the door and just lost it. Everything Betty had been so upset about was right. Only in my case, it was all magnified and multiplied. Betty had screwed one stupid old man behind a grocery store and felt awful about it. I had literally been unfaithful to the man of my dreams hundreds of times. If anyone deserved to go to hell, if there even was such a place, it was me. I cried like there was no tomorrow. In Betty's case, all she had to do was to stop and make it up to Greg, who himself was no saint. But in my case, I needed to come up with an exit strategy. I'd threatened to stop more than once, but I got the idea that if I did, one of the guys would make sure that Ben found out about what I was doing. If I lost Ben, I may as well just blow my fucking brains out because there would be no reason for me to continue breathing.

The sound of the phone ringing jarred me out of my thoughts. For once I looked at the caller ID and in this case it was the person I wanted to speak to least.

"Sandy, I have to go out of town for a few days. It won't be more than three, but I can't avoid it," said Ben. "I'll be home in a few minutes to pack. I just didn't want to surprise you when I came in."

"It's not like I'm doing anything," I said. I tried to make my voice sound light and cheerful.

"Well, I'll see you in a few minutes," he said.

I started crying all over again and then realized that I had to fix myself up to make sure he couldn't see anything wrong with me when he got here. Things were weird between us still. I don't remember any time during our marriage when Ben had to go out of town that he hadn't begged me to go with him. Whether he was going for a couple of weeks or even just a quick over-night trip he always wanted me with him. I wondered what had changed. Then I realized that it was probably my outburst from the night before. I felt like crying all over again.

I heard the sound of Ben's exhaust system. I knew all about it because he talked about it so much. I'd gone to all of those car shows with him and found out that he wasn't the only one. All of those guys talked like that. It was like another language built on lowering and raising and changing part of their cars. The only thing I didn't like was when some of those women who drove Mustangs came over near him. They always pretended to ask him questions about his car. There was one little woman that I've seen at several of those Mustang club meetings that used to make my skin crawl.

She had long blond hair all the way down to her ass and the biggest most innocent looking blue eyes you've ever seen. She walked right up to Ben and asked him how much boost he was getting from his Roush charger. She actually started touching his arm as he was telling her about it. I grabbed his other arm and pulled him away from her.

"Oh, are you two together?" she asked. The bitch had the gall to look at me and smile. It was that same look that you see on the face of a professional basketball player when a high schooler wants to play him one on one.

"What do you drive?" she asked me in that condescending voice that told me she thought she could take Ben from me.

"Well," I said smiling. "Right now I'm thinking about driving my foot up your ass." Her expression changed and she just walked away, which told me that she was smarter than she looked.

A few moments after I heard the sound of that exhaust system, Ben opened the door and waved at me. He ran up the stairs and grabbed a suit and his over-night bag. He threw a couple of pairs of boxers and another pair of pants and a sweater into the bag. He grabbed his toiletries from the bathroom and looked around the house. As he saw me, he started telling me about some account that he'd been trying to get for months and he had a golden opportunity to interface with some of that company's tech specialists.

"That's great Honey," I said. I was just glad that he was talking to me. "When will you be home?"

"Hopefully the day after tomorrow but it might not be until Saturday," he said. Then with his arms loaded up with suitcases and a duffel bag he headed back out of the door. As I heard the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway, my hair stood up on end. I went back over what had just happened and there was something odd going on.

Ben and I were very touchy feely about each other. Ben always had his hands on me somehow. It didn't always have to be in a sexual manner, but he always liked touching me. There had been a couple of times when we'd been caught with him grabbing my ass or something like that and he usually got embarrassed but I didn't care. Anyone who was old enough to realize what we were doing, was old enough to know that I wanted him to do it. It was our business.

For the past couple of days, Ben hadn't kissed me, or hugged me or grabbed my ass. He hadn't so much as touched me for any reason. He had to be really upset with me. If he hadn't been, he'd have called me and told me to pack a bag and taken me with him. In a way, that was a good thing, because with him out of town for at least two and possibly three days, I could take care of my little problem.

I spent the rest of the afternoon planning my exit strategy. At about six p.m. I called Greg. I knew that he should be at work by then.

"Hey," he said. "What's up with this morning? I drove by to see if the red sweater was over the porch rail and noticed Betty's car in your driveway. What the hell did she want?"

"Just to talk about some problems she's having," I said.

"Look Sandy, I'm taking care of her. I screw her once or twice a week. I compliment her all the time. I even sent the bitch flowers. What more do you expect me to do?" he asked.

"Greg, she's your wife and she's trying really hard to be sexy for you. Tell her what you want her to do," I said.

"But she lies there like a rock. It's like fucking a blow up doll that doesn't have to be blown up," he said.

"Greg, do you get off?" I asked.

"Well yeah," he said, guardedly.

"Is her pussy pretty tight?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," he said. "But that's only because it's barely ever been used."

"Is she tighter than I am?" I asked.

"I guess," he said. "But I love you, Sandy. That's the only reason I'm putting up with her. She's boring."

"Greg, if you divorce Betty, you'll end up as some lonely old man who jacks off to porno movies for the rest of his life. You'll live in a crappy apartment and eat tuna. When you're tired of your porn, you'll go to the park and stare at young girls. There is no possible scenario where you and I will end up together."

I heard him take a sharp intake of air. "Greg, I don't love you. I love Ben. Everything I've been doing with you was for Betty. I just wanted to try to save your marriage. Betty has a tighter pussy than mine and her boobs are bigger. She has everything you want in a woman and you must have loved her at some point. You can teach her about sex. You can teach her to become the whore you want. She'll do anything you want her to do. You just have to ask her. You can even kiss her. She'll do all of the things for you that I won't do." He sucked in a breath.

"But..." he said.

"But nothing," I interrupted. "Greg you aren't enough for me. Ben and I were married for a long time before I started all of this shit. Ben is enough for me. I'm going back to that. Ben is enough for me because I love him. No one man other than him ever would be. It usually takes the four of you to give me one shitty little orgasm. Ben gives me multiples all alone."

"You get jealous and want to be the only one with me, which is silly because you'd probably die trying to keep up with me. Greg, you wouldn't want a woman that you had to share and that's what would happen."

"But Sandy," he said.

"But my ass," I spat. "Tomorrow, you need to tell Betty that you're going to be late. We're getting the gang together for one final time. I'll let you all do whatever you want to me all day long or at least until you can't get it up anymore. After that this is all over, FOREVER. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said sadly.

"Good, I have a few more calls to make."

That night was the worst night of my life. It made two nights in a row that I hadn't slept with my husband and I was very keyed up. The strange thing about it was that it wasn't sex that I needed, it was love. I needed to have Ben wrap his arms around me and tell me that he loved me.

I wasn't excited at all about meeting with the guys the next morning. I looked at it like a farewell tour from a famous entertainer, or a boxer's last fight. It was just something I had to do before I began the next phase of my life as the faithful wife of the man I loved.

Surprisingly, Ben didn't call me. It was another sign that something was seriously wrong between us. The sooner I wrapped up my extracurricular activities the better. I needed to fix things between us in the worst way. It was then that I remembered that I'd forgotten to apologize when he'd been home.

I went to sleep in our cold bed. I found myself sleeping on his side of the bed and trying to comfort myself by sniffing the sheets to find traces of his scent.

I woke up the next morning and drank a cup of coffee. I felt like shit. My guilt over what

I was about to do was even worse. I kept telling myself that this would be the last time. I really didn't think I'd ever be able to do it again. I felt like I was going to vomit at any moment. It had never bothered me before, but I guess I'd finally began to think about how badly it would have hurt Ben if he ever found out.

As usual, Nick was the first to arrive. He bounded down the stairs wearing his running gear. His wife, Joanie, probably thought he was out for his daily run. I wondered how she'd feel if she knew that at least once or twice a week, he'd been running straight across the street and getting his workout by pounding her neighbor's pussy.

He stripped off his shorts and tried to hug me. "Shit, Sandy, I'm not going to try to kiss you," he said as I moved away from him. "It was only a friendly hug. We've meant so much to each other over the past year or so. I'm pretty sure that asshole Greg messed this up for all of us, by making you feel guilty about Ben."

"I don't want to talk," I said. "Let's just get this over with." He turned me around and then bent me over the back of the sofa. He pushed the head of his dick at my pussy and kept trying to push it in.

"Jeezus Sandy. You're as dry as the fucking desert," he said. I didn't want to tell him that I really had no interest in sex at that moment. I turned around and lay back on the sofa. I spread my legs and looked at him.

"Maybe you should eat me for a while to get me in the mood," I said.

"When aren't you in the mood?" he asked. I noticed that he made no move towards me. He started stroking his dick to keep it up, but his erection was clearly fading.

"Nick, come on let's get this started," I said. We were like two kids who really didn't want to fight. Neither of us wanted to throw the first punch.

"Nick, lick my pussy," I said again.

"No," he said.

"Why not?" I asked. I was shocked.

"Sandy," you have your rules and I have mine," he said.

"Do you eat Joanie?" I asked. He nodded. "Then why can't you eat me?"

"Jeezus, Sandy, I'm not putting my tongue anywhere near that thing. I'm sorry but too many guys have been there." There it was again, some guy insinuating that I was some kind of diseased whore, but who still couldn't resist fucking me.

At that moment Greg arrived and he'd brought three other guys with him. They all started taking off their clothes. Greg pulled me over to him and started to rub my pussy. "Eat me, Greg," I said. He quickly spat into his hand and then rubbed his spittle over my inner lips. He lined his dick up with my opening and pushed it inside of me. He just started pounding me after that. I noticed through my grunts and Greg's, that he wasn't very gentle, he just huffed away at me. Then I realized that it was the way they always were.

At least Nick was honest enough to tell me. Greg hadn't even dignified my request with an answer. "Oh baby you're feeling good tonight," he grunted between thrusts.

"It's not night time, Greg," I gushed. "It's morning and I asked you to eat me." He just smiled at me and kept going. That really hurt me because Greg was the one who always claimed he loved me. But apparently it was fine for me to suck his dick and for him to fuck me but I was too much of a whore for him to do oral on me. Another guy got on the couch next to me and stuck his dick in my face.

I didn't take the hint because I wanted to hear it from Greg. I could see his revulsion in his eyes.

"You didn't want to eat me, did you Greg?" I asked. "I thought you loved me so much."