Chronicles of a Shared Wife Ch. 11

I think we both knew what each other had secretly been doing....a silent understanding between us.

Curiously there was no awkwardness, just that little bit of embarrassment which quickly evaporated as we began chatting merrily away.

Later, when Rita had gone home, I phoned john and told him about my friends little sleepover and what we had both done.

His wife and her friend....playing with themselves in separate beds at the same time...in his home...

To say John was rather excited would be a huge understatement.

And if it not for the fact that he was sat in the passenger seat of Dave's car on his way back to me at the time, he would have masturbated.

He later confessed that what I'd told him was one of the most erotic things he'd ever encountered.

And boy, did I get that message rammed home when he got back.

Still, I got my just deserts for teasing him.

I did intentionally wind him up on the phone, both of them actually.

Dave later telling me that he got hard while driving listening to my antics which were audible on speaker phone.

It occurred to me on hearing just how powerful an affect I had on them both in tease mode, that poor young Chris really was putty in my hands, he didn't stand a chance.

An innocent.

That word 'innocent' broke my slumber.

As I reflected on what had transpired during those past three weeks the realisation of how deep I was in this suddenly confronted me.

I had to tell Chris the truth and as soon as possible.

Later that day...

I'm doing the right thing....that's what my inner voice kept repeating over and over while waiting for Chris to pick me up outside the bus station.

It was sunday evening just gone seven.

After talking with John and a considerable inner struggle with my conscience, I'd phoned Chris earlier in the afternoon and arranged for us to meet, explaining to my young boyfriend that I had something important to tell him.

This was done to make sure I couldn't chicken out, not trusting myself as I did.

This was big, and I had that sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, the kind you get when you know that something unpleasant but necessary must be done.

The lad didn't deserve this and as I waited for him to show up, I felt truly dreadful.

Trying to focus on the positive side, I wasn't leaving him, we could continue 'dating'.

'Oh yeah...he can go on fucking you but can't have you to himself...which is clearly what he wants...he's falling in love with you...fucking bitch number two...slow clap time...well done pippa.'

The nasty inner voice spits truth at my attempt to make the situation better...this was going to be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I wrangle back and forth with the nasty truth, trying to justify my past behaviour with Chris.

But in the end the truth is correct, I am bitch number two.

And as I come to terms with this cold cruel fact, Chris's little hatchback car appears from around the corner...

As he pulls over to the kerb I get in and we say our hellos, kiss.

Normal behaviour suddenly feeling very abnormal.

Chris senses it, knows something is wrong with me instantly.

In this case it's in her kiss...I guess.

Pulling back, looking closely at me, studying my eyes.

"You alright?...what's wrong?....you mentioned on the phone...."

Chris trails off as I look away, interrupting with a suggestion we go for a drive....and yes, I have something to tell him.

There's silence between us for a few moments as we head out of town, Chris dumbstruck by my unusual behaviour, and me?....stewing in my own guilty conscience.

It's not long before Chris resumes his line of questioning and I'm forced to answer what I've been avoiding.

As I begin to speak, my voice sounds different, as though someone else is doing the hard bit for me, or maybe it's just wishful thinking.

"Chris love...I told you over the phone that I had something important to tell you....well...there's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it."

Chris listens while he drives.

Listens to the hard truth about...me.

The truth that I'm not divorced but still married to and living with my hubby John, happily so.

I don't tell him everything however.

What I don't reveal is that my husband is actually very excited that I'm seeing Chris, a guy half my age.

I don't tell my young lover how badly John wants to see him fuck me up close and personal.

I don't reveal either, how John loves to enjoy Chris's sloppy seconds when I get home after one of our dates.

What I do tell Chris is that he is my special secret lover, and that the last several weeks of being with him have been some of the best of my life.

And most important of all, I don't want that to end, I want our affair to continue.

All the time I'm talking he doesn't say a word.

The look on his face however, says it all.

While driving he's focussed on the road, but keeps glancing occasionally at me.

That look....that hurt look...it's horrible.

It seems to magnify in intensity every time our eyes meet.

After initially revealing that I am still with John, Chris's wide eyed, shocked look of disbelief quickly turned to one of anguish.

He went bright red and was continuously swallowing.

This slowly changed to what I saw now...hurt.

What I had to say had hurt this kind sensitive young man.

There was no denying it.

Although I make it very clear how much I enjoy our time together, how exciting he is to me, and that I don't want things between us to end....it doesn't make any difference.

The hurt look remains.

I note also, that we are no longer heading out of town, but rather back across it and towards my home...

After exhausting everything I have to say, Chris's terrible silence remains, filling the car.

I apologise repeatedly and ask stupidly if he's alright, over and over.

Eventually pleading with him to say something...anything.

Chris stays silent all the way back to my house. It is the most awful, awkward journey I've ever had.

Eventually we do arrive near my home and Chris stops the car, looking straight ahead for a brief moment.

Feeling dreadful, not only because of how badly Chris has taken what I had to say but also for his silent treatment, a part of me tries one last time to illicit a response.

"I'm not a leper."

That's how I feel at the time.

Yes I've done something wrong and yes I deserve to be treated badly.

But the silence from Chris is making me feel dirty and unwanted.

After I've said it, Chris looks at me and says, "You've been lying to me all this time."

Looking away straight ahead again he adds, sounding distant, "Just go...I need to be alone."

Realising that it won't do any good to keep on at him I undo my seatbelt and get out the car in silence.

Closing the door, I have a last brief view of Chris before he drives quickly away.

Standing on the pavement and watching while the little car disappears around a corner.

For a moment I wait there still as a statue watching the empty road, feeling so utterly dreadful...what have I done?

This poor guy is never going to trust a woman again.

I have reinforced his already warped perception of the opposite sex.

Two bad experiences one after another.

Not only have I hurt this young man again, our relationship is now over.

An empty, cold feeling spreads throughout me as this realisation hits home.

Another guy comes and goes....another notch on my bedpost?

Or so it seems.

**

What followed Chris's departure was the single most stressful week of my life.

In the days afterwards I bombarded him with phone calls, always going to voicemail, leaving pleading messages for him to get in touch with me.

Nothing.

I sent loads of text messages, with the same result...nothing.

Knowing how sensitive he is, I was more than worried.

I imagined such terrible things.

Still, I couldn't pluck up the courage to go to his home.

She would be there, Chris's overprotective mum Barbara.

I just knew I would get an earful at the very least, or more like a black eye.

Indeed, all throughout that long week I kept expecting her to turn up at my work and shame me publicly.

But no such humiliation materialised.

I was placed in limbo...rightly so.

Lost a lot of sleep about the situation I can tell you.

And then, saturday after I revealed the truth to Chris I noticed a missed call on my phone after getting out the shower.

It was Chris's number.

Hurriedly phoning him back, he picked up on the fourth ring.

No voice initially.

I said 'hi' and 'Chris?...is that you?'

Long seconds past, then his voice, quiet and low in tone.

"Pippa...can we talk?"

And with those four words, Chris stepped back into my life.

End of chapter 11.