Frustration

All sex in this story is between consenting adults. So is the violence believe it or not.

Before you send in comments about how far-fetched it is, I know. I wrote the fucking thing after all.

This story will not appeal to the extreme BTBs or RAACs. I suggest they don't read it.

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I checked out my husband sitting next to me on the couch, glad that our conversation of last night seemed to have done no lasting damage. That didn't surprise me in the least. He was a man's man and one of the strongest male characteristics I admire is their ability to say their piece then forget it. Topic over. Job done. I'd known this when I broached the subject last night.

"Dave, are you having an affair with Karen?"

I'd been fairly sure he was. In the previous two or so months he'd changed subtly but significantly. Where I used to be able to set my watch by when he came home. Now he was late at least once a week. Where I knew just where he was 24 hours per day, now there were unknown, blank patches.

Then there was his new acquaintance with Karen, the widow across the street. Once, I'd gone out on Saturday and had come back to find him mowing her lawn. When I'd quizzed him about it later, Dave said he noticed she had twisted her ankle so when he saw her return home with a load of shopping, he'd offered to help unload it. While doing that, he'd noticed that her lawn needed mowing, so he'd done that for her. From then on I'd come home several times to find him across the road. Once he'd come back with his shirt buttoned up wrong. When I asked him about that, he told me that he had been fixing her blocked sink and had removed his shirt for flexibility.

Unable to believe this man I firmly believed was totally incapable of guile was cheating on me, I stepped up my observations. As a test I also started subtly withholding sex from him. Knowing him as I did I knew that if he could go for a week or two without making love to me, he must be getting it elsewhere. He lasted three weeks without even mentioning it.

Yesterday he'd gone to work on a Saturday, very unusual for him. Half an hour later I saw Karen leaving, dressed very nicely. Bingo.

I knew with Dave I didn't have to set up any fancy surveillance or hire a PI. I just had to ask him. So, once I'd worked up the courage, I did. He just turned and looked directly at me and said, "No."

That was it. Almost.

"Are you having an affair with anyone?"

Again a simple, "No."

I knew then with 100% certainty. My husband wasn't having an affair. He went back to watching the television. I didn't proposition him that night. Partly so I could concentrate on pondering why I'd suspected him in the first place. That proved fruitless. Secondly, I didn't want to make it blatant that I'd seriously suspected him by withholding favours for longer than I ever had before. Tonight was a different story though. Tonight I would repair any damage I'd done.

Surreptitiously I continued to check him out.

If forced to reduce Dave to one word I would tell you that Dave was a simple man. If given the luxury of using more words, I would say quiet, guileless, undemonstrative, unambitious, a black and white thinker, unobservant, loyal, direct and very, very honest. Some people interpreted some, or a combination of these, as him being dumb. I knew that wasn't the case. All the above were the product of his difficult childhood. Harder to explain was the fact that there wasn't an ounce of malice in him. (I apologise to my fellow metric lovers. It just doesn't sound the same saying, he didn't have 32.2 grams of malice in him).

Me. Well I was just about the polar opposite. So why had we married four years ago? Simple. Opposites attract. I'd had relationships with men alike to me and they didn't work. Then my mother had told me about her secret for a successful marriage. Marry someone totally different and manage the difference. Use each other strengths and cover their weaknesses with your own strengths. Dave and I had discussed this many times in our long courtship. He knew his shortcomings and wanted me to be completely happy with them before we committed. In the end, I had to propose to him. In short, he was my life partner and I loved him dearly.

I deliberately stopped looking at him through the eyes of a sophisticated 21st century, professional woman and turned my other sight on. The one used since Uggette had first set eyes on Ugg. Towering over me at 6' 1", his muscled frame, earned by his physical job, made me look like a waif. In the local vernacular, he was built like a brick shithouse. But gentle with it. The perfect combination of well-endowed and considerate lover, topped off the package.

I realised my panties were dripping in anticipation of my apology to come. I knew I had to act fast when Dave yawned and announced bedtime. I followed and went into the bathroom to clean up a bit. When I got out Dave was almost asleep.

Crawling into bed naked, I wrapped myself around my hulking husband. Who again yawned.

"Can we not do this now please?"

"Why not honey? Did I upset you last night?"

Dave yawned again.

"No, it's because you had an unprotected fuck with your boss last Monday. My friend said that if I made love to you, I could catch a disease. Goodnight."

He then rolled onto his side with his back to me.

I uncurled myself from him in shock. He knew. How did he know? How long had he known? What the hell was I going to say? I was so sure this day would never come that I hadn't thought of any, well, excuses.

I knew the justification that I had used at the start. There was a promotion coming up at work and I wasn't totally confident that it was in the bag. Deep down I knew that Dave wouldn't amount to much and that was fine with me. I loved him just the way he was. If we wanted to have a substantial nest egg when we decided to have children, I knew it was up to me. The promotion would be a big step towards that goal. So I'd started responding to my office managers rather blatant flirting. He couldn't believe it. Within two weeks we had gone from flirting to an all evening romp in a motel. I was quite proud of the elaborate plan I'd devised to get us both a pass for the night.

I knew that I couldn't use that excuse to Dave though. In hindsight it might seem a little mercenary. In some lights, even slutty.

After the first time, things had spiraled out of control a little. Believing that Carl and the promotion were in the bag, I'd thought our rendezvous had been a onetime thing.

Two things had made a lie of this.

Firstly, having bedded me, Carl had openly started flirting with Pamela, my main rival for the promotion. If Pamela decided to use her natural assets as well, then I was honest enough with myself to realise there would be no guaranteed winner.

The second was the thrill of the experience. Not the sex. That was just an act that even I had to admit wasn't nearly as satisfying as my love life with Dave. Hell Dave had the home team advantage. Seven years of learning, by trial and error, exactly what I liked. Besides, very few men are as gifted as Dave in my experience. No, I realised, it was a different kind of thrill. The excitement of thinking of an excuse to be somewhere else, with someone else when I would normally be home with my husband. Thinking of all the possible scenarios to explain where I was if he became suspicious of any one aspect of my story. The meticulous clean-up before I dared come home. The elevated pulse of deciding on a hiding place for my new lingerie, bought to overcome my natural disadvantages compared to Pamela and to enhance the experience for Carl. Christ, even the mild guilt I felt before and afterwards did more to enhance the experience than detract from it. Then there was the thrill of the tiny but ever present chance of Dave discovering my activities. All stimulating mental fun.

All of a sudden, my own question from last night answered itself. The suspicion of Dave was prompted by my own activities. Obvious now in hindsight. Whenever you point your finger at someone in accusation, look down at your hand. Three fingers are pointing back at yourself.

Those understandings, in the here and now explained everything. How many of them could I tell Dave? The answer was a stark, 'None'.

That is why, in the here and now, I lied through my teeth. Facing Dave's back I adlibbed. I knew I had to make it vague. He knew about last Monday but what about the five Mondays and a couple of Saturdays before that? The process wasn't helped by the fact that I was terrified. Controlling that terror alone took the best part of three minutes.

"Carl came on to me when I was feeling particularly low. He took me out to lunch and I, well I had about three glasses of wine while he told me how attractive I was. I'm sorry darling, I fell for all his shit and we ended up in a room. Oh Dave, it was awful. I felt terrible afterwards. When it was over I felt horrible and told him it could never happen again and he said that was fine. It was so hard not telling you that I'd fallen and been unfaithful but I wanted to protect you from the hurt, really. Then the next week he came up to me and just announced that we were going to do it again that night. I said no but he threatened to tell you and get me fired. Oh Dave, what could I do? I knew if I made a complaint and it came down to his word against mine I would probably lose. I hate to say it Dave but recently I stopped telling him to go away when he flirted with me. I always had before. That must have encouraged him. Enough people in the office probably saw us flirting and would back up his side of the story."

I paused to see how Dave was taking all this. Give him an opportunity to respond. This was really hard work. In the darkness Dave rolled onto his back but didn't say anything.

"Can you forgive me for one lapse of judgement, please honey? With your backing I will have the courage to stand up to him and say no. I should have done that from the start. If he tries to hold me back at work or get me fired I can threaten to tell the company what he did. I'm sure he will leave me alone. Oh darling, please forgive me and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will never flirt with another man again as long as I live. I know it can be fun, but I now know it can be very dangerous. Please."

I'd heard that a good interrogation technique was for the questioner to just remain silent and wait for the suspect to fill the silence with ill thought out rubbish and condemn themselves. I couldn't believe my darling Dave was smart enough to do that though. I shut up anyway. To be honest, I'd run out of things to say. I waited for my fate to be announced from the silence of the other side of the bed.

There was absolutely nothing. He must be really thinking deeply which was a positive wasn't it? No knee jerk reaction from him. The only sound was the pounding of my heart in my ears. Until I heard a soft snore beside me. The bastard was asleep! Had he heard nothing? That was kind of good, it gave me time to think of more convincing excuses. But it also gave me another problem. Not only did I now not know exactly what he knew about me and Carl but I didn't know how much of my explanation he had heard. At what point could my recent excuses stop and new ones start. I spent most of the rest of the night scheming, only falling to sleep exhausted after 4AM.

I staggered awake the next morning feeling great as you can imagine. Dave always left for work before me and got home earlier. I debated letting him leave without speaking but let fear drive me downstairs. He was just finishing his breakfast. Unusually there was nothing set aside for me. I sat down opposite him at the kitchen table.

"Good morning Sue."

That was it. No kiss, no darling, no loving smile.

"Um, sweetie, what did you think of what I said last night."

"Sorry Sue. I told you I was really tired".

Thank god for that. It gave me a clean slate. An opportunity to ditch what I'd said, which even to me in the clear light of day, sounded pathetic.

"Well darling........"

"I'm sorry Sue, I have to get to work. Don't want to be late."

He got up, grabbed his bag and left, leaving me with absolutely no idea where I stood.

I somehow managed to stagger through my morning routine and get to work only slightly late. I was so tired. At the first opportunity I went to Carl's office to give him the good news. To say he took it badly would be an understatement. Selfish bastard that he was, he could only seem to focus on what it meant for his own marriage. I knew his wife had been away for about two weeks with their kids, visiting her mother. He seemed to settle down when I told him that Dave didn't have a malicious bone in his body and would never tell her. Perhaps too well. Within a minute he had asked me when we could get together again. His flagrant disregard for my marriage was sickening. I told him it wasn't going to happen in the foreseeable future. Instinctively I stopped short of saying, 'Never again'. I was finally back to my normal habit of thinking two or three steps ahead. I really wish I'd done that six weeks ago. Then maybe I wouldn't have been in this fucking spot in the first place.

I somehow made it through the rest of the day. I parked around the corner from our house and rehearsed my speech. I'd decided to gently probe to make sure Dave hadn't heard anything last night. Then, once that was confirmed, launch into my new defence. I also anticipated his two or three possible responses and decided how to modify the plan once I saw which he was going to use. Satisfied, I drove the rest of the way and confidently strode into the house.

Dave was sitting at the table, finishing his dinner. I stopped in bemusement, then continued on and kissed him on the cheek. I knew he had to be confused and would appreciate as much familiar routine stuff as possible.

"Hi honey. Why are you eating so early? Did you make some for me?"

"Well, it's Monday. You normally fuck your boss Monday and don't have dinner here."

Fourteen words to screw all my carefully laid plans. I was right back to adlib territory again.

"Bu...but sweetie, now you know, I won't be sleeping with him ever again." Was all I could think to croak.

"Why not?"

"Because I love you."

The expression on Dave's face I can only describe as blankly quizzical. He was silent for a moment then shook his head.

"Then why did you fuck your boss?"

For a simple man, he had zeroed in on the one question I had no answer for. Well, not one I could share anyway. God knows I'd tried hard enough to think of one. As I stood there stunned, the introduction to the TV news started. Dave cleared his plates then went and sat in his favourite chair. I was grateful for the chance to think so I let him go and made myself some dinner. Distracted by my planning, that task took almost an hour. I joined him in the lounge about five minutes before his favourite show finished. I sat at his feet and put my head on his knees but facing away from him. I was not at all sure I could look him in the eye and lie.

I was just getting into my stride with my new rationalisations when his show finished and he abruptly stood up.

"Where are you going to Dave?"

"I'm going to the toilet, then I'm going over to Karen's. She has some rats in the ceiling and I said I'd put some traps down. Then I'm going to do some other jobs she needs doing."

He walked towards to toilet.

"But Dave, have you been listening to a word I've said?"

"No Sue, you know I like that show."

I waited while he used the toilet and came out.

"When are we going to talk about this Darling? When are you going to let me explain? If I can't explain, then how are we going to get past this? How are you going to be able to forgive me and let us move on together?"

This brought him to a standstill. He stopped on his way towards his workshop and turned around, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it.

"Move on together. I'm a bit confused Sue. Aren't you going to be with him now? I presumed you loved him more than me and would want to be with him rather than me."

"But I don't love him honey. He meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. I love you Dave. I always have and I always will."

Dave looked at my pleading face and shook his head again. Like I wasn't putting my words in a format that they couldn't get in his head and he was trying to readjust his brain.

"Then why did you fuck him?"

I suddenly realised that there may never be an answer to that question. I stood and watched him as he gathered up some tools and walked out.

An hour later a snippet from his words of the previous night slipped into my mind. He'd said, 'My friend said that if I made love to you, I could catch a disease.' Obviously that friend had to be Karen. I knew of no other potential friends. Dave either worked of hung around with me. That last fact twinged my conscience greatly. I was his only friend and I'd knifed him in the back. I buried that deep, then resolved that the fight back would start now.

I stormed out the door and across to the husband stealing bitch's house and pounded on her door knocker. She greeted me like a long lost friend, immediately thanking me for lending her my husband. Taking me in to where Dave was re-grouting around her bath before offering me a cup of coffee. She then bombarded me with chatter. Within minutes I realised that she could have absolutely no knowledge of our marital problems. I took the first opportunity to run away back to my house.

I made the mistake of trying to stay awake till Dave got home, in bed. The next thing I knew my alarm was going off and Dave was gone. Time for decisive action and a technique that never failed. I knew Dave was definitely an 'actions speak louder than words' kind of guy. I rang work and took the day off, cleaned the house, then went shopping. The four course meal I had in mind were all Dave's favourites. With an hour to spare I showered, picked out my sexiest dress and put on the perfume that Dave always commented on.

I planned that night's conversation. Every time I did this I realised it was getting harder. I didn't know what, if any of our two previous conversations, well my monologues, Dave had heard. That was constraining what I could now say.

Dave came home at his normal time and seemed to appreciate my efforts. I kept the conversation neutral, dreading anything that might trigger that unanswerable question. We had some remarkably normal conversations. I decided to let him move us forwards. He'd had all day to process my words from last night. He could have no doubt that I loved him. After I'd cleared everything away I felt comfortable enough to snuggle up to him on the couch. Well, tried to anyway. He shuffled away.

"I told you Sue, my friend said I shouldn't make love to you."

Fuck, this guy had a way of scuttling all my plans.

"Who is this friend honey?"

"I'm sorry, she said not to tell you."

I was shocked. My husband appeared to be under the control of another woman. That was my job. I could think of nothing to say so we just watched TV until bed time.

The next day Carl called me into his office. He once again asked me when we could get together next. More to wipe the smug fucking grin off his face than anything else, I told him about Dave's new, unknown friend. The one advising him and possibly the one who had alerted him to our affair in the first place. I was obvious Carl wasn't interested so I maliciously said that it could be his wife. That pulled him up short. Even as I said it, the 'rightness' of it struck me. Could it really be his wife? It would make sense? It's probably what Carl and I would both do. Tell the other partners spouse while quietly making arrangements to withdraw from the marriage in good order.