February Sucks -- My Outcome

As much as I had spurned her prior logic, Linda was right that we should try the bed. I needed to make a decision, and sex, love, fucking or whatever with Linda was just another factor to be considered. I took her by the hand and led my smiling wife to our bed.

Only a small light in the corner was on, and we left it that way, as we quickly shed our clothing and started our lovemaking. Although I was not sure Linda did not have any STD, I did not like condoms, and so I took the risk. It started slow and gentle, like I knew that Linda liked -- or at least I though she liked before spending the night with Marc. It was a bit tentative because of the elephant in the room. But when I went down on Linda, as I often did at the start, I noticed that Linda had shaved her pubes. Seeing my face, Linda whispered "I hope you like." I did like and had asked Linda to shave before, but she had always refused with the standard explanations. We continued, and as I started to actually fuck her, Linda became very vocal both breathing hard, grunting and talking dirty. This was new because Linda had always been quiet during sex. She locked her legs around my back and countered my thrusts with her own to multiply the force of my body's impact as I heard her whisper "harder." Her gymnastics kept me hard. Then she quickly released me so I almost flew out of her until those strong legs yanked me back again. She again wrapped her legs around me and responded to my thrusts with more counter thrusts as she grunted, talked dirty about my beautiful cock in her slutty pussy, and enveloped me with passionate kisses. I was an iron bar. Linda came and came and then I came. It was actually the best fucking we had for a long time, if not all time. But it was still more fucking that making love. We kissed but there was no passion or emotion that we had in the past. Despite the newness of Linda's shaved pussy and her gymnastics, it still felt tentative and not fully satisfying.

In the afterglow, as we lay together cuddling each other, I asked when she had time to get herself shaved. She did not answer, but her fingernails seemed to press into me. I knew. "You shaved for him, didn't you? When are you planning to see him?" "NO, NO" she spoke. "I have no plans to see him, and I won't."

"But you shaved for him, didn't you?"

"After we woke up Saturday morning, and I was about to into the shower, Marc grabbed a trimmer in the bathroom and basically forced trimmed me. He then asked me to shave because he wanted to go down on me and have me one more time before I left. But then I shaved again today because it was starting to itch. Honey, it could now be your bald pussy to enjoy as you wish."

"What about the dirty talking, the leg wrapping and everything else? Was that something he taught you as well?"

"Well yes, he told me things that he enjoys and insisted that I do that with him, and I did. I never thought about those things before."

"I guess I should be grateful that he broke you in for me."

Linda broke into a smile. "Oh baby, isn't it great that you are now the recipient of things that Marc taught me. Our sex will be better. Everything I learned is now for your pleasure and your pleasure only." She finally had a little victory at what she viewed as proof of how her treachery had actually benefited us. Her smile did not last.

"Great, Linda, seeing your shaved pubes will now constantly remind me that you shaved for Marc after refusing to shave for me. Every time that you get loud I can wonder whether you are thinking of me or Marc who convinced you to be so verbal, and every time you wrap your legs around me I can wonder whether you are wrapping your legs around me or thinking that you have Marc on top of you."

I heard Linda cry quietly as she stayed in my arms while wrapping herself around me. It felt good, but then again my thoughts were whether Linda was comparing my body to that of Marc. When she ran her hands over me, was she comparing my somewhat soft body to what I was sure was the muscled body of her former lover. I could not compete physically with the Adonis. I was not even sure that I was as smart as Marc and I certainly did not have the gift of gab that Marc, like many sport figures, seemed to have. So, what did I really have to offer to Linda compared to Marc? Maybe I was a better father for the kids, but that was for the kids, not for Linda except indirectly.

As I remained quiet, Linda got out of bed and went to the attached bathroom, turning on the bathroom light. As she turned around to close the door, I noticed that her breasts were blemished. I got up, opened the door and grabbed Linda by the shoulders as I now examined her body in the light. There were clear black and blue bite marks on the underside of both her breasts, and bite marks on her ass as well as inner thighs. "Did you allow him to do this?" Linda remained silent and just stared at her body.

"I asked you a question, Linda."

"Marc said he wanted to mark me. As I said before, I was powerless to deny him anything. I am sorry. The marks will go away, honey, and there will be no remnant of my night with him. I want to be yours. Please stay with me."

I could no longer be next to Linda, and left to again sleep in the guest room. Sleep did not come until early morning. When I awoke, Linda was gone, and, looking at the clock, I surmised that she had already left for work. There was an envelope on the kitchen table with my name on it, in her writing.

"Dearest Jim,

"Thank you for last night. I could tell it wasn't easy for you. I know it wasn't anywhere near the best sex we've had, let alone as good as what I had with Marc. That doesn't matter. The comparison means nothing to me; I'm only telling you so you know I'm not fooling myself or trying to fool you.

"Last night, you showed me how very much you love me, and that means everything to me. I will never forget it. If you offered me a choice between a lifetime of nights like the one I had with Marc, and one single night like last night with you, I would choose the night with you, even if it was the last sex I'd ever have.

"I know you still have the confession I wrote. If you would, please staple this letter over the top of it. I can't erase what I wrote, or what I did. But I can cover it with new things, things we do together, just us, until it's completely buried. That is what I will do, as much and as long as you will let me.

"I choose you, today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life. I do have a choice, and I choose you. Every time.

"I love you with all I have, and all I am.

"Linda."

So what I thought was the best sex was not the best sex for her and could never be good as Marc's. What else could Linda say that could turn that dagger more.

I called sick at work, and went to my home computer. I did my research. Divorce is not good for children. But 1.5 million children in the U.S. become victims of a parents divorce every year, but almost all overcome the trauma. The worst prospect for children is not divorce, but watching their parents in conflict.

I then went for a long walk. This last night was the last piece of the puzzle. Linda finally said that she was sorry but not for what she did. She was sorry because she hurt me and that her willing seduction destroyed her marriage. But she still had expressed no remorse for giving herself to another man or for demeaning me in front of what used to be our closest friends and everyone else at the club. The only words of consequence in her last letter were that our sex "wasn't anywhere near ... as good as what I had with Marc." I would always come out second best.

Linda's protestations of love and desire to grow old together could not overcome the real facts. That love did not prevent Linda from abandoning me at the club or having wonderful sex with a stranger. No one could trust the vow of someone who had so deliberately not only broke the basic vow of marriage, but emasculated her husband. Her lack of any regret for her actions was itself enough to dictate the course of action.

I desperately wanted to protect Linda and the children, to accept Linda's transgression as the "worse" in the vow that I made to take her "for better or worse till death do us part." Maybe Linda's faults were part of made the woman that I had so loved for many years, and accepting the incident was no more than accepting the reality of the person who was my wife. If that was the true Linda, it was not the Linda that I thought I had married.

I might have forgiven Linda if I had discovered that she had a secret adulterous rendezvous with Marc. While I would not be a happy camper, I could at least understand that a well-endowed famous person could cause even a good person to lose sanity in favor of a lusty one-time encounter. It could be chalked to a "worse" as in "for better or worse." But Linda's betrayal was different. This was not just another night, but our special night. She had to have known how demeaning her actions would be. She had blatantly and publicly disrespected and humiliated me, and I didn't think any loving person could do something like that. Linda had a goddess body and it was great sex, but there could never again be any love. The only emotion that seemed applicable was hate.

Would I be better off with Linda or without her? Would my life be better with an intact family rather than splitting a family. Emma and Tommy were the only reason for not divorcing Linda.

But what family would it be if I could not look at Linda without seeing her in Marc's arms? How could we make love anymore when I did not know if Linda was comparing me to Marc, or even worse, pretending that she was again fucking Marc? I did not want Marc to win. By leaving Linda I would only afford Marc his final victory of causing the destruction of my marriage. If I had been humiliated at the club, how much more humiliating would it be when I admitted defeat of my marriage at the altar of Marc's cock. On balance, the children would not be better off living in a house where Linda and I could not be loving and where the kids would never see their father hugging their mother. There was only one option.

I called the lawyer. "So what say you?" he asked.

I gave what is the shortest sentence in the English language "Go."

I returned home to start sorting things away in preparation for leaving my home. I did not say anything until we had dinner and the children were asleep. I told Linda that divorce was only option. Linda cried and begged.

Linda suggested that we start counseling. But counseling would take months, and I could not see how counseling would do anything but waste our time and money. Linda was supposed to be my life partner but had blatantly turned her back on me without caring how she hurt me. If she did not comprehend how I would be hurt, that spoke more about how little I truly knew about Linda than any explanation for her behavior. Maybe I had been looking at Linda with rose-colored glasses.

"Linda, how can you say that you actually loved me. How could someone loving me not understand how much pain you would cause? Maybe you did not care or maybe just did not understand, but neither would be possible by one truly loving another person. When you had a choice, you rejected me. No one can overcome that."

Linda still could not let go. "I don't know why I thought that you would accept what happened. As I was driving away with Marc I thought that you would be mad for a while, but then your love for me would overcome whatever I did, and we would get back to normal."

"It is too late for that, Linda."

"But doesn't our love mean anything?"

"Was there ever love, Linda? The extraordinary 16 or so hours of this last weekend should have taught us how fragile that concept is. We want to believe in love and that is understandable. But in desiring love we sometimes lie to ourselves because we so want to feel love. Love can be a lie we tell ourselves. You wanted to believe that you loved me and lied to yourself that you did. But a person in love could not have done the things you did. Forget the big stuff. You shaved for Marc when you would not for me. You were willing to feed me his cum because it was sexually arousing to you, but would you not feed cum to someone that you hated? No, Linda, you actually never really loved me, and that is why we cannot stay together."

In the next couple days my lawyer filed the divorce petition and was able to convince a local judge to allow the complaint against Marc to be filed under seal so that neither Marc nor anyone could talk about it. The new information about Marc marking Linda and forcing her to come home with his cum in her was the icing on the lawyer's strength of his case for infliction of emotional harm. Why did I sue Marc? He did not rape Linda or drug her. He made her an offer and Linda accepted. But Marc was into humiliation. He needed to be a winner, and life was a zero sum game to him. If he was to truly win, someone had to lose, and that loser would be the hapless husband. He needed to understand that even potential wimps will stand up to the assholes of the world.

Linda was defeated and did not fight the divorce, but still had never apologized for what she did, which is something I let her know as we were leaving the Family Courthouse. We were able to settle the financials in a cooperative manner.

The action against Marc worked. His team forced Marc to settle, and perhaps ponied up part of the settlement. After the lawyer got paid, I put the rest of the settlement into a college trust for the children. They should get something out of this for their pain.

The lawyer later told me that word about the action against Marc spread within the team. His married teammates ostracized him to keep him far away from their wives, while the unmarried teammates saw him as a risk. Things got bad enough that Marc was traded to a cellar team for a 6^th round draft choice, where he found little success. As it turned out, when he ultimately retired he was not invited to coach as he had hoped. Business opportunities seemed to shun him. He ended up alone and depressed with no one to share his life.

Unhappily I became a member of the part-time parents club. To both our credits, Linda and I were able to handle the custody and visitation of our kids without rancor, and, very quickly, the child visitation times and restrictions became meaningless as we both tried to find the most and best quality time for the children. We both began seeing the children being with the other parent as an opportunity for "my-time" rather than a risk or a threat. The children also forced us to be together as Emma was getting into school functions. We did not have much interaction beyond the basic functions, but we were always pleasant to each other even when no one was around.

Between work and making time for the children, I really did not have that much time to find someone to share my life. I went on a few dates, sometimes double dates with friends or family trying to set me up with an available female. But no one really caught me.

A couple years after the sucking February event, Linda and I held a birthday party for Emma. Upon conclusion I was helping Linda put everything away when Linda asked to talk.

"Jim, as I think you know, I have been seeing a therapist over the last couple years trying to figure out why I did what I did. You told me that I never apologized for what I did, but apologized only for having hurt you and the aftermath. You are right. I had not really regretted leaving the club with Marc. I even wrote letters to you about how great the sex was with Marc. My romp was the source of gratification and contentment, and not revulsion. Even as I told you how sorry I was, I still had in my mind the sensuality and sexuality of my night with Marc. But that is in the past. My therapy has shown how fucked-up my brain has been. I have finally awoken or as people say today, I am woke."

"Woken to what?"

"That I was horrible. I was angry with you that you did not try to understand why I did was nothing. Angry that you did not love me enough to stay with me even if what I did was as ugly as you saw it. I was hurt, but I could not accept I had done anything wrong. I could not understand how you couldn't understand that Marc had nothing to do with us."

"And now?"

"I now understand how selfish and inconsiderate I was. I do not like the Linda that chose a night of great sex over my marriage. I hate that I was so bollixed that I could not recognize the pain that I was inflicting upon you."

"I am surprised that it took a therapist for you to awaken."

"I too am surprised that I needed to be awaken, Jim. I think I relied too much on my so-called friends who kept telling me that you were in the wrong, that you were the bad guy. You were difficult only because your male pride was challenged. That I should not let you run my life. I accepted their bullshit because it was convenient. I now see how wrong they and I were." We were silent for a little, when Linda continued, "I don't know if you picked-up that I call you Jim. I wish I could call you honey or sweetheart or baby, as I had always done. But I know that I lost my right to do that."

"I guess I am grateful that you, as they say, have now seen the light. It did show how little we actually had between us."

"No, no. You told me that the facts showed that I did not really love you. You said I had lied myself into believing that I loved you when I did not. That has been hurting me terribly. I think you are wrong, though. I did what I did with Marc only because I so loved you very much and, more importantly, trusted that your love for me was as strong and would still be there. I was totally selfish, egotistical, greedy, narcissistic or whatever word you want to use. But I did not see a betrayal and did not think of the hurt that I would cause. In my fucked-up brain I was centered on myself and my entitlement to the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that was presented to me. Having trusted your love for me for so long and so completely I again took your love for granted. It is perverse thinking, but, yes, I thought you loved me as much as I loved you, and, ergo, you would understand my indulging in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a night with the famous Marc. Unfortunately, my lust and selfishness left no room for thinking about what I was doing to you. My brain had been fucked-up, but in that perverse world, it was our love that fueled my betrayal of that love. I was wrong, but I now know more than ever that I am not lying to myself that I did love you. I have only loved you and can only love you."

"So, what now?"

"I understand from those family members that still talk to me that you are not seeing anyone. I can assure that I am not either. In fact, strangely enough, I lost interest in dating after you served the divorce papers on me. My friends think that I just don't want to be disappointed because I will compare everyone to Marc ... or to you. I think that they are right, but not about Marc. I get hit on by men, but the good ones are married, and I am not going to be a mistress or a one-night stand again. The single men are fewer because who wants someone with two children of Emma's and Tommy's ages. The rest I can't avoid comparing to you and what we had, and it just doesn't work."

"I'm sorry to hear about that part of your life, but that is your life and has nothing to do with me."

"I hope it does. I don't know why you are not dating, but we are both alone, dateless and sexless. But we had been good, weren't we? Rather than both of us wallowing in our lack of relationship, can be become friends and go out maybe on a Friday or Saturday night or Sunday afternoon? We have Emma's activities, and you will taking Tommy to Little League and soccer games. We will run into each other, and maybe we together can show the kids something like a normal man/woman relationship, and maybe even sort of a loving one." Linda then looked directly in my eyes and closed, "I would like very much to provide you with all the benefits that a friend can provide."