February Sucks - the Details Matter

Writing this journal had helped her understand Jim's torment better. What was a justifiable, defensible one-night affair in her eyes, was an unforgivable betrayal in his. What was an exciting thrill for her then, and even now, she admitted, was torture for him. It wasn't just sex. It would never be 'just sex' for either of them; it was so much more. For me it was ecstasy, intimacy, romance, escape, exhilaration, titillation, new and a little dangerous, and most important of all, validation of my desirability as a woman, being selected above all the other women, she admitted. It was something that no one could ever take away from her as long as she lived. It also had nothing to do with her love for Jim. In her mind Marc and Jim were not incompatible.

For Jim, my leaving with Marc to go fuck him was vivid and indelible, she thought. It brought him unspeakable shame. Another man, that he had no chance of physically measuring up to, had walked right up, with him present, and took his wife. He was emasculated for all the world to see. I'm not a man, Linda acknowledged, so I don't always get the macho stuff, but she was beginning to better understand. He didn't stop it and he is having to live with that truth. More damaging, Linda thought, is I didn't stop it.

Jim knew I was a willing participant. He recognized that I wanted it and enthusiastically allowed it. He saw with his own eyes that I chose to let Marc hold me, whisper to me, direct and control me. Although he didn't see, he knew that I let Marc kiss, touch, taste, penetrate, and satisfy me. I haven't denied any of it and I certainly didn't resist any of it. I didn't resist when Marc explored me in the car, or ejaculated in my mouth in the living room. I didn't resist when he went down on me and expertly assaulted me with his tongue while turning me into Jello. I didn't resist when he paused at the entrance of my vagina seeking my consent. Even when he came to me in the morning after a night of intense sex, when I was sore, disheveled, sticky and exhausted, he found me willing. He wanted sex and I obediently and gladly spread my legs...again for the third time. Just like I did after breakfast for the fourth time, and just as I would have done that afternoon for the fifth or sixth time had he convinced me to stay. Jim was right. I didn't fight it. I was Marc's to enjoy without restriction or question. Marc never asked for permission, he just did what he wanted, and rather than make me ashamed after all the time that has passed, it still turns me on.

Unfortunately, there is no husband in the world who will experience the complete access to his wife that I gave Marc that Friday night. Those are the thoughts I'm sure Jim grapples with. The actual acts, of course, are hard for him, but more damning to his psyche, are the details of my utter, complete eagerness and desire to have those acts done to me over and over again. They are memories both of us will keep forever.

Unlike Monday, Jim called back after the kids had gone to bed. It was late. The journal was done and Linda was still up, but not for much longer. His voice had an edge to it and my guard was immediately up. "Is everything alright?" Linda asked.

"No Linda it's not. It's fucking not," he said.

Linda wondered if he was drunk.

"I'm losing my mind. I can't sleep and every waking moment my brain goes back to that night. I'm physically sick and I can't keep going on like this. Linda, I need to know the whole fucking story," he said.

His voice was as defeated and sad as she could ever remember.

"Jim, you already know the story. I have talked to you about it and written it down just like you asked. I have repeatedly told you what you mean to me and my desire to make things right. Don't reopen this" she said. "Please leave it be and please forgive me. You're torturing yourself. Find it in your heart to give me this one night. Please let me keep this memory and please let me keep you," she pressed. "Please."

For a moment Linda thought that maybe she was getting through to him and they could talk things through, but his voice and temperament quickly changed.

"Bullshit!" He screamed into the phone. His unending torment of the last nine months allowed his anger to spew out violently and swiftly.

She recoiled at his fury.

"Tell me what the fuck happened! Tell me what the fuck happened!" he desperately cried.

Linda immediately sensed his pain amid the yelling. She was on guard and getting a little nervous, but she was also in no mood for this, especially over the phone. "I already wrote it all down," she shouted back firmly.

"No!" he screamed as he interrupted her. "You haven't told me everything. What the fuck happened in the car? What the fuck did you talk about? You said you had sex when you got there, how many fucking times?" he yelled over the phone.

"Jim stop it. Stop it now! You know enough!" she pleaded.

"I want the fucking details!"

"The details aren't important!"

"Bullshit they're not important!" Jim insisted. "I'm trying Linda. You know I am," he said with anguish, "but I'm losing my mind. You're not the one spending every waking hour thinking about what he did to you and what you did to him! You're free to relive your precious night with your wonderful 'musician,' 'maestro,' whatever the fuck he was!" he yelled sarcastically as he started to lose it. "You promised me," he choked out.

Linda started to argue again, but Jim cut her off, "No!" he yelled. "You don't get to back out! You promised me you would tell me everything SLUT, so keep your fucking promise and tell me!" he raged.

The word "slut" hit her like a hard slap. Jim had just passed through a barrier that she thought he was incapable of going. She felt the progress of the last few months unravel in an instant with that word. Her heart sank but her own anger swelled until it washed over her.

She matched Jim's fury. "How dare you call me a 'slut'!" she yelled. She could feel herself starting to lose it. "That is not alright!" she screamed. "I grabbed a once in a fucking lifetime chance to live out a fantasy you bastard!" she raged. "You're telling me you don't fucking fantasize? Bullshit! I know you do! Does the word Ellen ring a bell! You're so full of shit and just too much of a fucking coward and hypocrite to admit it!"

Linda gathered her composure but still didn't have control of her anger. Like Jim, things had been building for months and now there was Tsunami of emotion.

"You want to hear it? You want all the fucking details? Fine! But you sure as hell better not hang up because I sure as fuck am not writing this shit down!" she commanded. "If you want to hear the details, then you're going to hear all of them!" she yelled as she was beyond mad. "Marc fingered me in the car and fucked me two times that night and two more in the morning!" she shouted into the phone. "Four glorious times you bastard!" Linda added for emphasis. She was in a rage. "He never wore a condom and if he had tried I would have ripped it off. I wanted to feel him! All of him!! And feel him I did!" she screamed. "He was deep inside me each time he came! Is this what you want to hear? Are these the details that are somehow going to get you past this and make our marriage stronger?" she asked with venom. "Hey this is fun, let's keep going, shall we?" she hissed with sarcasm. "Here's another fucking great detail," she screamed. "His dick's been in my mouth and vagina as has his fingers and tongue! You happy? You want more? Is this what you want to hear you fucking bastard!" She kept going, "How about this fun fact, I fell asleep on his wet spot and when he woke me up he fucked me again!" "Satisfied? You want more, asshole?"

But rather than go on, Linda slumped in her chair. Linda couldn't keep going. She was spent. She had to stop. She was hurting him, she could tell, but damn he had just hurt her so she lashed out. The anger was draining and now she just felt empty and sad.

Unfortunately Jim wasn't through.

"I knew it! You were used and too stupid to realize it!" Jim yelled. "He wasn't a handsome prince charming that picked you out of the crowd. He was just an entitled bastard that needed a willing receptacle for his sperm and you gladly volunteered your slutty mouth and cunt!"

Linda immediately started to sob. Huge belly sobs. The words were so hateful, made worse coming from a man she truly loved and who was the father of her kids. Her exhaustion took over. She was too tired to fight, but she was done being Jim's punching bag. She thought for a moment to collect her thoughts before issuing her ultimatum.

"Jim I love you," she said firmly as her sobs subsided. "Deep down you know I do. I love our family and want a future with you," she said as her composure returned and her anger was replaced by steely resolve. "And I also know that I hurt you - really hurt you, but don't you ever talk to me that way again. I have too much self respect to ever have to put up with the demeaning bullshit that just came out of your mouth. If you want to continue to think of me as a 'cunt' and 'sperm receptacle,' then you'll have to do it as my ex-husband. I'm done. When you get back in town tomorrow, please don't come home unless you're ready to forgive me and be my husband and all that entails."

"But...," Jim started to interrupt, but Linda quickly cut him off.

"I'm not finished!" she snapped. "You either come home as my husband and not some tormented, bitter, moping roommate, or you will check in at a local hotel and call me. We'll arranged a time to meet Thursday morning to sort out the divorce. I'm serious Jim. I love you and I want us to work, but I won't spend another minute with a man that loathes me," she concluded. "Goodnight!" she said and abruptly hung up.

Linda cried herself to sleep. Her marriage was over. It was clear that the past few months were a brave front, but ultimately an illusion. The man she truly loved could not overcome what she had done. She had innocently thought that Marc being a celebrity, not a neighbor, co-worker or casual acquaintance, would make a difference. That Jim would give her a pass. That he would see her infidelity as a quick diversion, an allowable one-time fantasy, not an unforgivable sin.

She knew now she had grossly miscalculated, not that it would have mattered. Her journal reminded her that she was spellbound that night and would have probably said yes even if she knew better how Jim would react. Linda knew that Jim was deeply tormented. His definition of himself as a man was in doubt. His infrequent recent attempts at sex were still forced, stiff and self-conscious. He was second guessing everything he did, even if she reassured him it was okay. It seemed to her that he despised her now and he didn't even have the decency to hide it.

Miles away, Jim was a wreck as well. He now knew the details, but he had no peace. Her details pierced his heart. It wasn't some detached, romantic, surreal, enchanted, out of body, fantasy experience that she intimated in her letter. No it was an intentional, consensual, raw, animalistic, mutually-gratifying night of unending sex. "She deliberately, willingly and enthusiastically cuckolded me multiple times," Jim gasped out loud.

Was that the problem? Was it the amount of sex that bothered him? If she had called him immediately after the first time begging him to come pick her up and that she had made a terrible mistake would things be different? Yeah, maybe, he thought. But she didn't. She stayed and fucked him three more times, no condoms, no removal of wedding rings, no call to let me know that she was alright, basically, no second thoughts of him whatsoever, and no goddamn remorse! "Four glorious times," is how I think she put it.

He was trapped. He was a emasculated. Another man's dick has been in her mouth and her pussy. She had enthusiastically touched him, tasted him, been penetrated by him, and ultimately satisfied him. The act was nine months old but it still burned in his brain with a white-hot heat intensity. His options were the same that he struggled with this past spring. If he stayed, he would continue to be reminded of how she willingly cuckolded him every time he looked at her. And if he divorced her he would still live with the shame even if no one but him and Linda knew about it. His path forward was a least made clearer. Linda's ultimatum made sure of that. He was grateful to have a deadline, but he was just so sad. It was his last thought before drifting off.

Wednesday

Linda, woke up Wednesday morning. Her eyes were puffy and her heart hurt. She forced herself to be cheery around the kids, but it was the thought of them that was making her so sad. There was a lot to figure out - custody, living arrangements, money. Shit, we were close to making it, she thought. At least I have some clarity, she concluded. It was just so overwhelming. She started crying again.

Jim, got up showered and checked out of the hotel. He grabbed some breakfast and then headed to the airport. His mind was on the kids. This was going to be hard. He was certain Linda and he would find a good balance of shared custody, but there would no doubt be some carnage. The thought of not seeing his kids every day, caused him to choke up again as he waited for his plane.

After getting the kids to school, Linda, went upstairs and showered. The water felt good but it did not cheer her up. I need to be strong she thought. This is all my doing. It is my new reality, the first day of the rest of my life, as they say. She was resigned to her fate and despondent over what she had told Jim. She felt awful. She had blurted out spiteful details in anger and she did it to maximize his pain. She demeaned and emasculated him all over again by throwing at him how she had cheated on him so wantonly, completely and intentionally.

"Who am I," she wondered aloud as she sobbed about how she had hurt the man she truly loved.

Jim, held back tears on the plane. Linda's details, the ones he insisted she share, injured him more than he imagined they could. He just couldn't reconcile the person he knew and loved with the actions. After Ellen, he better understood why she might be tempted to leave with the asshole; he just didn't understand why she did.

Jim hadn't checked a bag, so he was back at his car quickly. He climbed in, still lost, but with a resolve to get on with it.

Linda, skipped lunch and just sat alone in the dark waiting for Jim's inevitable call. It hadn't come by the time she had to leave to get the kids. She thought about calling him, but thought better of it. This is in his court.

Jim, rounded the corner. He stopped the car and just stared at his house for two hours. He watched as she left to get the kids and was still there when she came home. He contemplated his decision over and over. He needed to confirm that this was what he wanted, not just what he thought was best.

His mind was finally made up. There's nothing else to know. Even though I'll never fully grasp why, I now know the details and can start to move on. He started the car and pulled forward, not to the hotel, but into the driveway of his home. My home he thought. It's time to forgive Linda and rebuild this marriage once and for all.