Do You Like My Smile - Her Story

"Holy Shit, that's like a giant size vibrator for women, so big you ride it instead of holding it."

He laughed again. "It's not like a giant vibrator, it is a giant vibrator. He returned to the closet and came back with a bag. "I have attachments. You can change the size and shape, and color, of the rod in the middle to suit your preference. Want to try it out?"

Joy sat on the bed, slack jawed. Steve chuckled at her shock and surprise. He knew he scored big with this surprise.

Cautiously, she crawled off the bed to sit beside the machine, examining it, checking each end, running her fingers over the generic phallic rod in the middle. Curious, she opened the bag and pulled out one dildo after another, some large, some small, some flesh-colored, some black (still flesh-colored if you're African), some crooked, some straight, some with two rods close together. She settled on a curved, medium-sized flesh-colored, rubberized attachment. Steve removed the one already in place and screwed in the one she selected. Before she got on, he retrieved some lube and rubbed it over the dildo.

"Climb aboard, cowgirl," he told her, waving to the waiting device. She climbed aboard.

Steve started the motor at a low level. At least it said low on the controls. To Joy, it was amazing. She squirmed and moaned. Gradually Steve ramped up the speed and power of the machine's thrusts and vibration, power far exceeding that any mere human male could ever have. The growing power met with ever rising levels of moans and grunts from Joy, until she shouted in ecstasy, tears running down her cheeks and her body convulsing. She yelled stop, stop, several times and then pulled her body up and rolled onto the carpet beside the machine, her body jerking and twitching as nerves continued to fire and tingles ran up and down her spine.

"Oh my fucking God," she gasped. "Oh my fucking God."

"You like?" Steve teased. She didn't answer. Her eyes were glazed and stared forward without seeing. Steve leaned down near her face. "Did you like it, baby?"

She shook her head as if from a daze, and looked at him. "You pull that thing out after we already had two hours of sex. You're evil." She gasped, trying to laugh. "But, wow. Oh my fucking God. That much fun can't be legal."

Joy lay grinning, stretched out on the carpet, naked, exhausted, spent from sex with man and beast. Spent as fully, make that more fully, than ever in her life.

Steve sat down beside her. "I apologize."

"I can't think what for," she replied, dreamily.

"We never actually got to swim, did we?" They both laughed. Joy glanced at the clock, grimaced and dragged herself to a sitting position. She looked hungrily at the Sybian as he wiped it down, sprayed some disinfectant and carried it back to the closet. "You can try some of the other attachments next time," he said, closing the closet door.

"I'm gonna try all the other attachments next time," she mumbled, as much to herself as to him. Thinking quickly, she added, "And you too again. I didn't mean you weren't..."

""No offense." He winked. "I don't mind sharing you with Reggie."

"Reggie? You named the Sybian?" Steve nodded. "Well," she giggled, "You and Reggie were both fantastic."

Yep, he thought, there's definitely gonna be a next time.

***

At home that evening, Joy alternated between excited giggling and avoiding the pictures hanging on almost every wall, pictures of her with Chris, pictures of the kids, of Chris and the kids, of thanksgivings past, of vacations and birthdays, of happy times, family times. As doubts fluttered into her mind, she rationalized. Chris was out of town. She took no time away from him. And she never would. Steve was only a bit of fun, a fling with someone she knew couldn't hold a candle to her husband in any way, well, maybe in one way, but that was it. She determined to make sure Chris knew how much she cared for him as soon as he got home. Which reminded her.

She checked the time and called Chris. "Hey, baby, how's your trip?"

"Nothing special. Same ole, same ole. How about you? Have a good day?"

"I had a great day. Steve had appointments all afternoon so he gave me part of the day off. I got a lot done around the house so I'll have time to spend on just you when you get home."

They chatted a few more minutes and said their goodbyes. After setting the phone down, Joy looked at all the work she needed to do. Gonna be a long night, she murmured, trying to get done what she implied to her husband she had already done that afternoon.

Chris returned home on time. No drama. Life continued. At first, Joy imagined Chris would see or somehow guess that she had been with another man. With the passage of time, those fears, that uncertainty fell away like leaves in the fall. Her confidence grew, as did her conviction that her periodic dalliances, once or twice a month, would remain undiscovered.

She was so careful, both at work and at home. No emails, no texts, no contact apart from work, at least when Chris was in town. Of course there were phone calls. But she could explain those easily enough. Steve was her boss. They had to discuss work matters from time to time. Never mind that those phone calls often lasted up to an hour and the subject matter strayed wildly away from work during the course of the conversations.

Joy got into the habit of taking her 'work' calls from Steve out on the patio, away from prying ears. That way she and Steve could talk freely. If Chris needed her, he was always the priority, of course. She would quickly end the call. After all, she was committed to not taking any time away from Chris when he was home. Strangely, the long phone calls did not register in her mind as time taken away from Chris. So, sitting outside on the patio, giggling and chatting with Steve, became habit, and like most habits, it happened without conscious examination. At least, not by her.

Chris, though, did examine those long calls, the ones that lasted thirty, forty, fifty minutes. They didn't look like work calls, when he looked out the kitchen window to see her twirling her hair, smiling, giggling. For Chris, her new phone habit suggested, as much as he tried not to believe it, that for the first time in the twenty-seven years they had been together, someone else might hold a place in her heart she promised to him alone. Those work calls from her boss were too friendly, too casual, and too frequent to ignore.

Twenty-seven years. They married when she was only seventeen. Had to get her father to sign his permission on the marriage license. Their first child joined them six months later. The circumstances of the wedding didn't t spoil their happiness. They were in love when they conceived that child and remained in love through thick and thin, despite the misgivings of the parents who worried about a hurried marriage for such a young couple. .

Twenty-seven years. After all this time, suspicion. Finding the truth didn't take the FBI. His wife was no spy or super villain. A simple "find my phone" ap was all it took. He installed it so he could see where she went when he left town. That map, so tiny on the little screen, was all it took to break his heart, destroy his world. He called, and while they talked, he could see her location. She told him she was home alone, relaxing. He believed her when she said she was relaxing. He didn't believe she was alone and he knew she wasn't at home.

The first few months of her affair, Chris had no clue what Joy was doing. Ignorance is bliss, until innocence is lost, and with it's departure, so goes the bliss. Bliss has to leave to make room for the pain. Pain is big and ugly and takes up a lot of room.

It took only a moment... the moment he looked at the tiny map on his phone, confirming his worst suspicions, proving his wife was lying to him, betraying him. In that brief moment, happiness died. The sunny, cheerful man, quick to smile and slow to anger, the friend in need... that man died, replaced with a sad, troubled soul.

Much more died as well. Plans and expectations, a shared future, the next eleven thousand days they planned to spend as a loving, happy family, all of that disappeared like fog on a warm spring day, to be replaced with uncertainty, confusion and anger. A marriage died. A family died. Hopes and dreams died, replaced with separate holidays for the kids and lonely nights for all.

In one moment, the woman he thought he knew, the woman who bore his children and promised before God and family to forsake all others, that woman shredded his trust, banished his faith in her and thus their marriage.

From that one moment looking at the map on his phone, sprang the seeds of a plan for that oh so horrible day soon to come.

Joy sat in the lounge chair on Steve's patio, sipping a rum and coke, wearing a thong bikini. Even the thong bikini seemed superfluous with only her and Steve there. But she was never one to run around naked in the middle of the day, even after sex and with no one else around.

Chris always called when he was out of town and she always looked forward to talking with him. She had become so comfortable with her indiscretions, that the incongruity of talking with her husband while sitting nearly naked beside her lover never crossed her mind. When she saw the caller ID, she happily lifted the phone and answered.

"Hi, Hon! This is an unexpected surprise. How are your meetings?"

In reply came that strange question.

"Do you like my smile?"

"Do I like your smile? What kind of question is that? You know I love your smile!"

"Yes, you've told me that many times. In fact, it was the first thing you ever said to me. Remember that night at the prom party? You broke away from your 'posse' of girls, came up to me, and said, 'You've got a great smile!'"

Joy frowned. "Chris, what's this about? I'm concerned!"

He forced himself to talk through his tight throat, holding back the tears for now. "I've made a purposeful effort, whenever possible, to be positive... to be happy. It's been a challenge at times, we've had our ups and downs, but living with the love of my life and my best friend, along with three amazing children, has made it worth the effort."

"Of course! I agree! It's one of the things—one of the many things—I adore about you. I love your positive disposition and I love that gorgeous smile plastered on your handsome face! You know I do."

He let out a loud sob... he couldn't help it! Despite the lies and recent destructive behavior, he knew she loved him. He knew, without a doubt, that his bride loved him! That made it all the harder, all the sadder.

She heard his sob. "Christopher! Christopher Harrington! What is going on?" "Please, tell me! I want to help! What's happened?"

"It's just...I'm not sure...if I'll ever smile again."

He counted twenty seconds, twenty seconds of tension, confusion, worry. Surely she must suspect what this was about.

"You're scaring me, Chris. Please, talk to me!"

"It's too late to talk, Joy."

Now she began to sob, thinking the worst, hoping against hope she was wrong. "Don't say that, Honey. Don't say it and never think it—it's never too late for us to talk."

"Joy, any talk... any discussion... has to be based on love, trust, and respect. I know you love me, Joy. I know it! And I love you, too... I always will. That's what makes this so hard, but I no longer trust you, and I know you don't respect me."

Joy started to protest, but he talked over her,

"You can't possibly respect me!" He barked. "Just come to the front living room window!"

"Come to the—? Christopher, what are you talking about?"

"Joy, I asked you to come to the front window."

"I don't—"

"Get up from the poolside lounge chair, walk into Steve's kitchen and through the house until you get to the front living room window!"

He heard Joy's screams of disbelief, "Oh, god! Oh, no! He knows, Steve! Oh, god! Chris knows!"

She trembled, stumbled as she rose. Steve jumped up to steady her. She swatted his arms away, like she might some pest or annoying fly. Feeling his touch made it worse. Forcing herself to walk, she did as Chris asked, until she stood looking out front. She saw him, saw him see her, in the thong bikini, with Steve beside her.

Through tears and sobs she watched her husband back his truck fast down the drive, slam on the brakes and let twenty-seven years of possessions tumble out. She heard dishes breaking, saw clothes fly out of boxes. Glass in framed photographs shattered. None of that mattered.

What mattered was Chris. What mattered were his parting words.

"I hope we can all agree, I deserve better than a lying cheating slut for a wife."

***

Betrayal cuts deep. Apologies scab the wound, time heals, but scars forever stay.

He filed. Court ordered counseling didn't heal the chasm between them. Her apologies, her pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears, on a cold heart, frozen by the same woman begging for another chance. The impartial, unfeeling wheels of justice ground forward until the inevitable court hearing.

"Petition granted." Two words, and their life together ended.

They met in the hallway outside the courtroom. He tried to avoid her. She stopped him, standing in his path. He paused and looked at her. "I'm so sorry," she muttered, looking down at the cold marble floor.

"I know," he replied. "That doesn't change anything."

She looked up, met his gaze and tried one last time. "We have children together. We have a history. Can't we at least be friends? Can't we at least have holidays together, spend time like we used to? Is it really too late to try?"

He stood silently, considering his answer carefully. "Joy, you will never know how much pain you caused me. Every time I see you, hear your voice, it tears me up inside. It's... it's more than I can handle." He choked, swallowed and continued.

"Joy, if you and I were the last two people on earth, I would move to the other side of the world."

He pushed her out of his way and walked to the exit. She watched him go, heard the metal doors clang shut behind him. For a moment the sound echoed down the hall, then silence.

"What have I done?" she whispered to the empty hallway. "What have I done?"