Fragility

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A wife strays with dire results.
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rha spike
rha spike
105 Followers

The clank of the Ed's final cast hit the stake a dead ringer and we had lost. Shouts of victory from Ed and Lloyd, the winners, then groans from Dave and me. It had been a serious horseshoe tournament as it was at every Saturday-before-Labor-Day barbecue and this time Dave and I had taken our lumps.

Ed was, as always, a gracious winner. "Come on, Jim, have a beer and tell us to wait till next year."

"I'll pass on the beer," I replied, "Good game, though. Wait till next year!"

I turned toward the house, walking along the side of the swimming pool where earlier my wife, Susan, and I had frolicked with six other couples through some sort of made-up game involving a child's large rubber ball. Ed and I had dried off and changed in time for the horseshoe match and Susan had gone on with the other wives to the party inside the big renovated farmhouse.

The party was just reaching its apex. A dozen or so people lined the patio beside the pool eating and drinking. On the far side Steve tended to the grill, handing out burgers, sausage and the occasional chicken breast to order. Music blared from the windows of the house where another twenty or so were talking, laughing and generally trying to impress one another. In other words, it was a typical, middle-class, American holiday-weekend barbecue.

As I approached the front steps, our host, Rod Meyer, came out and started around the path toward the pool. He looked up at me and changed his direction, rather abruptly I thought, as if he'd forgotten something. But instead of going back into the house he continued around it toward the garage.

In the living room, Susan was standing talking to a couple of the other wives. She stood in profile to me wearing a colorful ankle-length sarong skirt that was nearly transparent over her bikini bottom and one of my white shirts tied at the waist to leave a bare midriff. I thought again how lovely, tall and graceful she was and how lucky I was to be married to her. Ten and a half years of marriage and she could still stop my breath! How lucky can a guy get? When she saw me she stepped quickly away from the women and came to me, "Ready to go?"

"OK, if you are. It's not late though."

"I know, but . . . got a rough week coming up and I need a little extra rest." I knew what she was talking about; her job had been rough the last month or so, everything uncertain, people being let go, serious stuff.

"Good enough," I said, "Got everything?"

"Yes."

She was out the door and down the steps ahead of me setting a quick pace to the car.Something must have happened; I thought to myself,maybe a set-to with one of the women. I shrugged it off and followed her around the driveway.

We were in the car and starting down the drive when Rod crossed in front of us toward the house. He smiled and waved and began jogging up the path, not stopping to say good bye.

We hit the county's gravel road and turned west toward the highway. Susan was gazing out the window at the rural countryside and twisting the thin material of her skirt in her fingers. I wondered again what could be bothering her and just then she turned to me.

"Rod took me to bed this afternoon while you were playing horseshoes."

I froze, my hands tightening on the steering wheel. I knew what I had just heard but my brain refused to process it. I tried to push it away, to deny that Susan had said such a thing. My mouth was gaping open and I closed it. Then my head swiveled toward Susan and I finally managed to respond. "Rod . . . he . . .what?" I was so stunned I could think of nothing else to say. I nearly ran the car into the ditch, recovered hastily, and tried all over again to absorb what I had just heard. In that electrically charged moment my senses seemed to take on heightened sensitivity, recording every sound and sight. I remember hearing loose gravel striking the undercarriage, seeing the black and white cows regarding us without curiosity as we passed on the road, the dried rain spots on the windshield where the wipers didn't reach. These things are branded on my mind and remain vivid even today when I recall that drive home; I can even smell the early autumn air. It must have been only a minute, no more, but it seemed to drag on until Susan lowered her eyes and murmured, "You heard me."

"Susan!" I managed at last, "What . . . what does this mean?"My God!I thought,I sound like an idiot!

"Mean? I don't know if it means anything! . . . Maybe . . . I don't know!"

We had reached the stop sign where the county road intersected the paved state highway. I stopped and took the opportunity to turn and face Susan.

"You . . . went to bed . . . with Rod?"

"Yes." Her voice was almost inaudible, her face and neck fired with embarrassment.

"Well . . . what happened . . . I mean, why did you . . ."

"Jim, we're almost home! Can't we wait? I know we have to discuss this but I'd rather do it sitting in our home in a calm and civilized manner, so can we please wait?"

I gazed at her and realized for the first time that afternoon how distraught she really was; she was on the edge of collapse and needed some time to get herself together. If I was going to find out anything I had to back off until she was in possession of herself. "Sure." I said finally and nosed the car out onto the highway.

Silence prevailed for the rest of the drive home. I deliberately drove under the limit to give Susan more time to calm down even though I wanted to push the gas pedal to the floor. I pulled into the driveway of our own renovated farmhouse --- the house that Susan was prouder of then of her MBA --- and let her out. She hurried into the house without a word or a backward glance. I put the car in the garage --- an old barn, really --- and closed the doors.

The western horizon was still pale blue with afterglow, a few peach and magenta clouds decorating the hills to the southwest. I paused to look at it and gather my thoughts. I didn't want to rush into the conversation that I knew was coming until I had a good grip. Also, I didn't want to give the impression that I was anxious or too emotional, male ego being what it is.

After a few deep breaths my pulse settled down. I felt in control so I went into the house through the back door forcing myself to go slowly. Susan sat in the gathering dark at the round oak table in the big kitchen. Her face seemed calm and composed; she had obviously washed it and neatened her hair. She glanced up at me with a doleful expression as I came in. I turned on the stained glass swag lamp that hung over the table and took a seat across from her so I could see her face.

Silence except for the hum of the refrigerator.

Finally, "How did it happen, Susan?"

"How? You mean did he force me . . . or something? No. I . . . I agreed to it . . . willingly. So don't think that I was forced or coerced in any way. And don't get any ideas about going back and beating Rod up or anything stupid like that. It was as much my doing as his."

"Well, then . . . tell me."

"You want . . . details?"

"I want to know how he got you to agree."

She sighed and her breath came out raggedly betraying the depth of her anxiety. "I . . . I wondered that myself and . . . well . . . You know how difficult things have been at work lately. I've been stressed more than any time I can remember. I've been ignored, gone around, overlooked and generally made to feel as if I served little or no purpose in the office. You know, better than anyone, how emotionally exhausted I've been. My confidence has been at low ebb and I guess my defenses are down. God knows I've been susceptible to every tear-jerking song, news story and TV show for weeks!"

"And that's the reason . . ."

"Please, Jim! Just listen to me! Let me get through this! Please?"

"OK, OK!"

"After we got out of the pool this afternoon I drank too much too quickly. I knew it but it felt so good to get buzzed that I ignored the warning and really got pretty tanked. Not drunk, really, I was just in that in-between state that makes me a bit numb and very happy. When I realized how far gone I was I went upstairs to the bathroom to get myself straightened out a little. I washed my face and rested for a minute or two and felt better. In the hallway on my way back I stopped to look at that photograph . . . you know, the one of the moon over that little Mexican town."

"Yes, it's an Ansel Adams."

"Anyway, I was looking at it when Rod came up the stairs and stopped behind me. I think --- I don't know for sure, but Ithinkhe had been waiting to get me alone --- I've noticed some signs lately. He probably saw me leave and go up. He must have waited a few minutes till he could slip away and then followed me . . . I don't know. Anyway, we exchanged a few words about the photo . . . I know he said something that made me laugh, then he put his hand on my waist. I sensed what was coming and began to edge away but he moved his arm up to my shoulders and turned me to him."

She paused for a deep breath, then went on. "He kissed me. It wasn't rough or, or . . . insistent like I expected. It was soft and tender and almost . . . almost . . . pleading. When we broke he just stared at me for a second. I told him I couldn't do this and he said, 'Susan, I would never do anything to hurt you or Jim.' Just that, and then he kissed me again, longer this time and I felt the alcohol buzz start through me again . . . or what Ithoughtwas the alcohol buzz; I was a little dizzy, anyway. Then, suddenly, I was kissing him back, really responding to him. Both his arms were around me by then and one of his hands was caressing me . . . my . . . on my bottom. I began to feel hot all over; it just ran from the middle of my insides all through my arms and legs. That happens with you, too, but not so rapidly. I was overcome! I just wanted to melt! He seemed toneedme --- this overwhelming need just poured out of him. Probably because Joanne has been so sick for so long . . . I'm sure he's been on short rations for a long time. Maybe I was just ready for it, primed by the stress of the last few weeks, but at the time, at that moment, I could feel his need! It was in the way that he kissed me and touched me and I knew I could fill it for him . . . right then, right there! I knew I could be of use to him and Iwantedhim to use me! Justuseme for his relief or his pleasure or . . . or whatever it was that he needed so badly! His hands kept roaming over me, inside my top, squeezing my breast, teasing me . . . then he just picked me up and carried me to a bedroom . . . a guestroom I think . . . and put me on the bed. By this time I was far beyond resisting. I have to admit thatIwantedhim. At that moment I wanted him and nobody else!

There was a short silence, then she said, "Well. That's it. That's what you wanted to know."

"Go on, Susan."

"Jim! You said you wanted to know how he got me to agree and that's how it went. Aren't you satisfied?"

"No. I want to hear the rest."

"Please, Jim! It's not important. I love you, not him. It happened; it's over and that's an end. Please don't do this! Please let it be!"

"Tell me the rest!"

I was amazed at how calm I was. My voice was quiet and low with no telltale quavering or tension but rock-solid with insistence. My hands lay inert before me on the table, stone steady. Susan lifted her eyes to mine. Two tears started down her cheeks. She looked me in the eye for a long minute, then seemed to reach a decision.

"You really want to hear this, don't you?" she asked quietly. "You want to hear it exactly the way it happened."

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"And do you want to know how it felt . . . to me?"

"Yes!"

"And there can be no ending this without it?"

"No, there cannot!"

She took a deep breath and lowered her face. "Alright!" she said quietly but emphatically. "He sat beside me on the bed and leaned down . . .No! I pulled him down. . . andI kissedhimthis time. This was a real kiss. A kiss that told him I was giving myself to him. He untied my skirt and slipped it away from under me, then removed my --- your --- shirt and my Bikini top and fondled and kissed my breasts." She raised her eyes to mine and said without blink or stammer, "He sucked on my tits . . . the tits you say you like so much and pay so little attention to any more!"

A bolt of alarm went through me, not only at the accusation, but at the vulgar words; still, there was no stopping her. I had asked for it. She must have shocked herself too because she paused, closed her eyes for a second, breathed and then went on. Her voice took on an edge now, a rasping quality that was foreign to her usual demeanor.

"He caressed me for a what seemed like a long time under the circumstances . . . there was a party going on downstairs after all . . . but he took his time and made me ready. It didn't take much! He stripped off my Bikini bottom and kissed my legs, the insides of my thighs . . . always a turn-on for me, you'll remember!

"I was reveling in his attention and the gentle way he was seducing me. I could feel him touching me with delight and . . . and . . . gratitude! He must have kissed every part of me and when he slipped his tongue into me . . . Yes! He did that! . . . I let him know how much I appreciated it. After a few minutes I pulled him on top of me and took hold of him. I guided him into me and locked my legs around him! I reached around him and pulled him into me by his butt and when he began moving inside me I raised myselfeagerlyto meet his every thrust!God, how he fucked me! Kissing me and telling me how much he needed me, his cock going in and out of me and making fire inside me! He pushed me over the edge in mere minutes! I came harder than I have come in years! I couldn't feel the bed beneath me; I felt like I was floating far above the earth somewhere! And so did he, if I'm any judge! He came and came inside me, wave after wave until he finally collapsed on top of me!

"When it was over he lay beside me, his arms around me, trembling! I caressed him for a few minutes, then I felt him rising again against my leg. He must have been starved! I slid down in the bed and took him in my mouth . . . Yes, Jim, yes! That, too! . . . I held his balls in my hand and squeezed gently returning the attention and care he had taken with me! I sucked him till he hardened again and . . ."

I could stand no more. My hands were gripping each other now in an effort to remain calm and my voice was tight.

"Did he . . . did you let him . . .?" I blurted out.

Susan sat erect in her chair, staring back at me levelly for several long moments then she spoke, calm and low, her voice edged with ice, "Of course! I don't pull away from you, do I?" I was paralyzed with anger and fear. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was afraid that I would hurt her, lash out physically to reassert my dominance. That I didn't I still consider a minor miracle. I struggled to banish the image of Susan with Rod --- naked with Rod --- with Rod's hands on her breasts --- with Rod inside her --- with Rod's cock in her mouth!

Slowly I regained control. Susan broke the silence. "As for how it felt to me --- other than the physical excitement and satisfaction --- I felt happy somehow and it took me till now to realize why. I had helped him. He was in torment --- needed me. OK! Call it a mercy fuck if you want to. He just needed0omebody, a woman; I know that! He didn't necessarily needme--- but I was there. I was chosen somehow and when he turned to me I didn't turn him away; I gave myself to him and that took away some of the torment. That's what made me happy."

I couldn't meet her gaze, turned my face to the window and the distant hills. After what seemed like minutes she said, "Well, that's it. He left me and I went back to the bathroom to clean up --- and cry when I realized what I had done --- possibly done --- to us. Then I went back downstairs. I spent a long, miserable, gut-wrenching half-hour trying to talk to the other women before you showed up and we came home --- home where you insisted on hearing every last detail. Any more questions?"

I was angry, angrier than I can remember having been ever in my life. I forced myself to remain still for several seconds, planning how I could salvage something from the debacle. I felt miserable and small for having forced this recitation and I wanted something back. My resolve finally crumbled and I gave in to the need to hurt back, to regain the upper hand and force her to surrender.

"Yes," I said at last and with all the venom I could muster, "I have another question. Are you going to fuck him again?"

I knew before the sound of my voice finished dying in the room that I had made a mistake, lost my self-control and damaged my dignity badly. I cursed myself silently with all the despair of being unable to take it back

Susan stiffened and two spots of red appeared high on her cheekbones, spots that I recognized as signs of her deepest anger. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and coursed down her cheeks.

"I don't know," she replied. She rose from her chair to signal that the conversation was over. I had never seen her face as hard and unyielding as it was then. "I don't know if he wants me to," she shot back at me. "Butifhe does andifI decide to,I will! And I will fuck him as much as he wants me to and whenever he wants me to!"

She started out of the room. I quickly got up and circled the table to stand in front of her.

"Just a minute," I said as calmly as I could. "We're not finished here."

"Well, I'm finished!" she replied. "There is nothing more to tell, no more juicy details for you to salivate over. I've told you everything!"

"Yes, you've told what happened to you, how you felt. But we are married! You can't do something like this without affecting me! What happens to you becomes a part of my life and my history so you are going to listen to what happened to me --- what ishappeningto me --- and to how I feel about it."

That stopped her and I could see her absorb what I said and realize that I had a point. She wasn't in this alone. I took a half-step back to ease the tension.

"Please! Come back and sit down," I said quietly.

We resumed our seats and she looked at me expectantly. I settled myself, took a breath and began.

"Are you tired of our marriage, Susan?"

"No." Her voice was soft but raspy, as if she had a cold or had been shouting too much but her answer was strong and definite.

"Are you bored with me? Want a change?"

"No. I . . . I just want . . ."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

I let a silence fall for a minute or two while we both adjusted, then went on.

"I can understand the things you said about work and the assault on your self-confidence. I can understand how the attentions of a good-looking guy like Rod might go a long way toward salving those hurts. What happened becomes even more understandable seeing that you had had a little more to drink than usual. Understandable, but not excusable.

"You mentioned earlier that I don't pay attention to your breasts much any more. I take that to mean that you think I've been neglectful, taken you for granted or, at least, taken sex with you for granted. If I have, I'm sorry. I should never do that. You are far too desirable to be taken for granted. So I can tell you that that is going to stop right now. I will never again look at you as a given.

"But there is no room in this marriage for a third person. Not as a regular thing or even on a casual basis.I do not want other men to fuck my wife and I refuse to apologize for that!"

rha spike
rha spike
105 Followers
12