Double Standards

I did not think that I could make her see why that difference was so important to me so instead I asked, "What if I withdrew my permission now, would you stop seeing Jerry?" I paused and then before she had time to answer I tried to sweeten the pill by adding, "It doesn't matter whether you continue to sleep with Eleanor or not."

"Don't you see - I can't give either of them up now. I tried to make it easier for you by playing down the real effect that Jerry had on me. When he first put his cock into me it was a revelation. From the instant of penetration I had fireworks going off all over me - I said that I had a big orgasm but the fact is that it blew me to smithereens. Tony I want more of that, lots of it."

"What are exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying nothing really - life will just go on as it has done."

"You're not going to have an affair with him, sneaking off and fucking him whenever you get the chance?"

"I promise there will be no affair in private but this is how it is going to be. Leaving Wednesday afternoons apart, almost once a week for the past two months I've been going to spend the night having fantastic sex with Eleanor and the following day I return to you. From now on I will be going over to their house with the same frequency, having fantastic sex with both of them and still return to you the next the next day. You absolutely revelled in the first scenario and I can't understand why you find the second so repulsive but you will have to learn to live with it."

Zoë made us a hot drink, there was some artificial and desultory conversation about other things and then we went to bed. We made love except that there was little love and it was not really sex either. I was so conscious of my rival's cock having been up there only hours before that I had trouble maintaining erection and I suspect that my wife was only giving me a sympathy fuck as an act of charity. It was beneficial in that, while waiting for sleep, I was able to ask, "What is so special about Jerry?"

"His cock is two inches longer than yours and appreciably thicker but that is not the only thing that makes him good in bed. He is rough enough to feed the female fantasy of ravishment but at the same time he has enough sensitivity to understand every nuance of a woman's sexual arousal and so take her to the peak of ecstasy. He is good, very good, I'm not going to hide that from you but I am certainly not going to leave you for him any more than I am going to run off with Eleanor. Neither of them would run with me for a start - it may seem difficult to believe but they actually have a very strong marriage."

During the intervening week before her next visit to our friends house things did get almost back to normal without ever being properly relaxed and on the mid two days we engaged in enjoyable sex before I seized up again as the dreaded night approached. Seeing her off at the door I made a valiant effort and told her to enjoy herself. Zoë rewarded me with a very loving kiss and whispered, "It's only physical and means nothing - remember that."

After she had gone I produced a bottle of whiskey and risked alcoholic poisoning as I drank myself into oblivion. Next morning I awoke still sprawled on the settee and turned up at work over an hour late with my face cut to pieces from clumsy shaving. That evening my wife cooked my favourite. I was at pains to talk on only neutral subjects and I could tell that she was fighting hard to suppress an exuberance left over from her night of passion. Sitting in front of the muted TV with fifteen minutes before the start of anything remotely watchable, Zoë suddenly said, "I'm not sure what to say. Whenever I've been with El you were eager to know all the gory details but I don't know if you want me to tell you about last night or not."

I did not know either. "Tell me a bit and if I decide that I don't want to know I'll tell you," I said.

"Jerry didn't do much with El and she did not bother with him either so that meant that both of them concentrated on me. It's kind of special having sex with two people when you are the centre of attention, especially when one of them is male and the other female." Even hearing this caused me to clench my teeth and Zoë took this as enough sign of distress to stop talking. There was a heavy silence for two or three minutes and then she said, "Oh yes - they confessed that they tricked me into letting Jerry seduce me. The whole thing was planned and he never even set out for Scotland."

Instead of anger, I had the thought that this duplicity was sufficient reason for Zoë to drop the pair of them but one glance at my wife smiling indulgently at the subterfuge told me that this was a vain hope.

"I said that they had a very strong marriage and the fact that Eleanor actually helped him to have me proves it," she went on. "El knows all about his other women and he knows all about hers. On occasion when he has picked up some woman that he thinks El might like, he brings her home and then finds an excuse to leave them alone to see if anything will develop. I reckon Eleanor was just repaying him for that."

I got an update on this after the two women's afternoon liaison the following Wednesday. "El says that Jerry wanted to fuck me from the first time that we met in the supermarket. When we all started to be friends he got even keener but she told him that he hadn't got a chance in hell of getting into my pants - she told him that because she fancied me too and didn't want him trying something that would ruin the friendship. Then, when she and I started seeing each other and she knew how passionate I was, she began to think that Jerry had a chance. You see, I hadn't actually told her that you knew about us so she assumed that if I would cheat with one I would cheat with the other. She was worried that I might start fucking him on the side - so she helped so that it was out in the open."

"Was she correct in that assumption?" I had to ask.

"No she was completely wrong. I did not actually like Jerry very much because basically he is not such a nice person - it was only when I saw the size of his cock that I realised that I wanted him."

Everything added up sent me into a really deep lasting depression and it seemed that nothing could shake me out of it. My wife really tried. "I hate to say this but I think you need to have an affair, it's only fair after all," she offered one day. "I thought of taking you along with me but that's no good because Eleanor won't open her legs to any male except her husband and I know you would hate watching him have the lions share of me. I'm not saying that I would show any preference but, even if you started off having equal shares, Jerry is bound to be still going long after you have packed up. So the only answer is for you to find yourself a fresh woman. If you don't fancy going on the pick up you can pay for a prostitute - I don't mean some half hour whore but more the call girl type who will give you a really good time. It will be expensive but we can afford it and anything is worth trying if it will make you a bit happier."

I said that I would consider the idea but had no intention of doing so. The suggestion actually depressed me because it showed that my wife was thinking long term and to be honest, I had been mounting a campaign of perceived misery hoping that it would jog my wife's conscience enough for her to abandon the extra-marital activities. After that I forced myself to cheer up (at least on the surface) and made myself adopt the old adage of accepting what I could not change. On her 'nights away' I still resorted to alcohol but without the excess of that first time. We still made love but without anything of our former passion and after one singularly lack lustre effort by me, Zoë had to remark, "I wouldn't break you know if you wanted to show a bit of enthusiasm." Another occasion on one of my better nights she lay back and said in a sexily inviting voice, "You don't do the old cunnilingus anymore and you used to enjoy it so much." Then when I made no move she tried to encourage me by saying, "Don't be put off by El being better at it than you, she does have the advantage of being a woman." It had nothing to do with Eleanor - I just couldn't face putting my mouth where his cock had been, even if that were several days before.

This tenuous equilibrium was broken when Zoë let slip that Eleanor and Jerry had wanted to start up the social evenings again. "I had to tell them that you knew about the sex and that you were not at all happy about it," she said. From then on I had horrific visions of the three sitting about naked, laughing at me. I think it was the first night she was away after that, I found myself pacing from room to room, unable to settle, unwilling to force bitter tasting whiskey down my throat and possibly with thoughts of suicide at the back of my mind. On a whim I jumped in the car and drove round to park near Jerry's house. For some strange reason, watching the flickering lights on their bedroom ceiling brought me a kind of peace. At two o'clock in the morning I was cold, thirsty and I had run out of cigarettes (I had started again after having kicked the habit for over four years). I abandoned my vigil that night but from then I went better prepared with a flask of coffee, a pack of twenty - and rather ludicrously a bag of cream line toffees.

During these long nights in the car I sometimes dozed a bit and always left at first light so was able to catch a couple of hours sleep at home but was extremely tired the next night. I don't think my wife ever noticed how quickly I fell asleep because she too was pretty exhausted from her nocturnal exertions. My stake-outs were invariably very boring but one night I was startled by a car pulling out of their drive and before ducking down I was able to recognise Eleanor at the wheel. I could have died because it meant that Zoë and Jerry were alone. I stayed on watch far longer than I should, constantly trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration but Eleanor had not returned by the time I had to leave.

I was unable to concentrate at work, stumbling about with barely suppressed rage and I was still seething when I saw my wife that evening. "What happened last night," I demanded, completely ignoring her smile of welcome.

"You know what happened, what usually happens," she said with a sigh of resignation. "I hope you are not going into all that again."

"Don't lie. It wasn't usual at all because Eleanor left the house just before midnight," I shot back.

Zoë was startled. "How the dickens do you know that?"

"Because I was parked outside the house watching and I saw her go with my own eyes."

My wife shook her head pityingly. "You are turning into a rather sad man."

"You can't get out of this by slagging me," I snarled. "You lied - you promised that you would never be alone with him."

"I promised that I would not sneak off with him to some sleazy hotel in secret. Just because Eleanor decides she has a better offer and leaves me with him doesn't mean that I have to lose my night of sex with Jerry."

Despite myself I was intrigued. "Where did she go?"

"She went to see a twenty year old Swedish air hostess called Helga. They met when Eleanor was delivering some documents to a businessman in his hotel suite. In the corridor she saw Helga walking towards her and they both stopped and looked at each other. Then, when the girl turned and returned to her room, Eleanor followed and had her tongue up the girl's snatch before they had exchanged even a single word. El says that the girl is tall, slim and beautiful with tits just like hers; she is also very blonde with the hair on her pussy so fair and fine that you can hardly see it. I am going to be introduced to her next Wednesday afternoon."

"Don't you mind?"

"I admit that I got very jealous at first - but not about Eleanor and the girl. I asked if she planned to introduce Helga to Jerry but she isn't. El claims that Helga isn't really into men at all - she's expected to fuck the cockpit crew as part of the job but that is all the dicking she wants."

"So you are willing to share Eleanor with another girl but not your real lover," I interpreted bitterly.

"If you must know Yes. I can tell you as well that I was pleased when El left me and him alone. I love Jerry fucking me so much that the obligation to stop El from feeling left out has started to become a bit of a drag. I had a fantastic night having that fabulous cock all to myself - but finding out now that you were outside the house all the time is just plain sick."

I sat in my chair quivering - I might have been crying as well. My wife stood in front of me. I saw different emotions cross her face but then she steeled herself and said in a detached voice, "This is probably not the best time to tell you this but Jerry and Eleanor are going to Greece for a fortnight at the end of the month. They have asked me to go with them and I want to."

I had been afraid of something like this. "How badly do you want to go?"

"Very badly. The thought of them out there without me would drive me crazy and I can't bear the prospect of not being with Jerry for two whole weeks."

The question had been in my mind for a while but I had kept putting it off. Even now the words were difficult to say. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know."

"Do you still love me?"

"I think I do."

This new dimension to my personal crisis restored a bit of pride. Frustrated I let my irritation show. "You are just dodging the issue. Surely it's black or white - you either love someone or you don't."

"Tony you're wrong - it's nothing like as simple as that. Don't you think I haven't thought of almost nothing else for the past two months trying to get everything sorted out in my mind?"

"What's to think about?"

"There is intellectual love, there is physical love and I don't know which of those is real love. On an intellectual level there is no doubt that I love you. "You are an attractive man, you are kind, considerate and thoughtful and you have kept me happy and contented for the past five years - so what is there not to love. What I can't decide now is if I love you because it fits the accepted progression - do I love you only because I have told myself that I must love you, given the person you are. On the other hand, Jerry is overbearing, inconsiderate and selfish with nothing very loveable about him but my heart lifts whenever I see him and I get part of that feeling just by thinking about him. Is that love or is it only anticipation or remembrance of the divine way I feel when he has got his cock inside me? I care about you and I suffer for what this has got to be doing to you, so if caring is the definition of love then it is still you that I love."

My wife had dredged deep inside herself to give me that answer and I respected her honesty but no matter how I looked at it the underlying message was bleak. Clutching at straws I asked, "You said you have been happy and contented - doesn't that count for anything anymore?"

Zoë swallowed and then looking straight into my eyes she said. "I used to think that happiness and contentment were what everybody was striving for - the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I am not sure that I don't still subscribe to that view but, I am certainly not contented now, mainly because of worrying about you. The point is that I don't think I could go back to how things were even if I could because I have never felt so alive in my life as I do right now."

I took Zoë to the airport but said my goodbyes before she walked over to join the other two at the check-in desk. Although it was hard, I put on a brave face, smiling and telling her to 'have a good time' but deep down I half believed that she was leaving me forever. On the way home I called at a massage parlour seeking ease from the knotted up feeling in the back of my neck but when prompted by the very attractive masseuse (who was displaying a mouth-watering amount of cleavage), I subscribed for the full range of 'extras'. This giving way to temptation must have broken the dam because for the next fortnight I fucked a different woman every day, handing over varying amounts of cash for the privilege. My commercial conquests ranged from street girls to high priced hookers but while the latter undoubtedly provided the most civilised and satisfying sex, I derived an inordinate amount of excitement driving round the red light district, making my selection from amongst the different tarts displaying their wares.

Twice I enjoyed wonderful sex with escorts, (with one the cost of the meal was more than the fuck) and the intensity of the experience helped me see that good sex has not necessarily anything to do with love. One night I paid two girls to put on a show for me and then fucked one of them - I had actually paid to stick my dick in both but could not get it up again within my allotted time. On another occasion I picked up one who had a pitch which was just outside the park, allowing her to perform in shrubbery only a short walk away. I immediately tried to go down on her but she demurred, telling me that she did only straight sex. Doubling her fee disposed of the limitation but she still had the decency to warn that I was not her first punter. I asked how long since the other one left to be laughingly told, "I'm surprised that you didn't bump into him." This did not make any difference because it was something that I had to do. Over the two weeks I exorcised a lot of demons but finished up with a deleted bank balance and a large parcel of guilt when I went to collect Zoë on her return.

You are possibly surprised by that last paragraph but I have to point out that, apart from my first dabble in the passage parlour, I pursued the rest of those activities as a deliberate strategy. You see, after a lot of heart-searching, I finally had admitted that it was not that pair of seducers stealing my wife's love but me actually throwing it away. It was the guilt trip I put on her with my constant looks of reproach that was poisoning our relationship. Her dalliance with Eleanor had actually enhanced our sex life and it was my reaction to Jerry becoming part of the equation that had spoiled everything - had I been able to welcome him as I had his wife then everything would still be fine. So I spent my week of freedom deliberately making myself as bad as Zoë, partly as a matter of pride but mainly to absolve her from guilt. Despite the cost I was resolved to greet her infidelities with a laugh and even welcome the start of social reasons because what woman can respect, let alone love, a man who portrays himself as a wimp and a sad loser.

As part of this new resolve I waited at the arrivals gate prepared to greet Jerry and Eleanor as they came through together but it was still a pleasant surprise when Zoë walked through by herself. She ran forward, gave me a big kiss and said how much she had missed me. Ironically I had missed here less during her absence than when she was still at home but I dutifully told her, "I missed you too." I was eager to tell of my misbehaviour and establish the basis of our new life but waited until she was settled back in her own house before saying, "There is something I have got to tell you."

"And I've got something to tell you," she replied, "I think you will be pleased." There was a moment of awkwardness as we waited to see who would speak first but then, out of long habit, I ceded the floor to her. "It's all over - I won't be going to see either El or Jerry ever again."

My mind was so full of my own delayed confession that at first the import of what she had told me failed to sink in and I did not exhibit the joy that she must have expected her news to bring me. "Why? Have you fallen out? Was there a big row?" I eventually stuttered."