Happenstance Ch. 05

"We thought as much," he said before asking me how I was managing being away from home without my big-dicked cowboy to keep me company.

I explained to him that my time with Jason had been a one-off fling and that my curiosity had been satisfied. "It's not something I want to repeat," I told him.

That was when he told me that I needn't be lonely while I was away from home and that, despite not being as big as my cowboy friend, he would be happy to see to my needs when we were on the road.

I declined his offer before showing him to the door, telling him that not only would he not be getting into my pants, but he would also no longer be accepted as a dance partner; either close or otherwise.

"That's a pity," he said on his way out. "I wonder how Matthew will react when news filters down to him about how you went about - how did you put it? - satisfying your curiosity. Think about my offer. We'll talk more about it tomorrow night."

And that was how my decline into full-blown slutdom began. He knew he had me over a barrel, and we spent the following night and the night after that together. The blackmail instrument was never mentioned again, but it hung over my head like the sword of Damocles.

When I raised the matter of Dan's blackmail with Mum after returning from that trip, she feigned ignorance of the coercion but told me she was happy to share him with me. "He's an accomplished lover," she said. "And there's no need for you both to go without while away from home."

I tried to sever my ties with her after that, but she used the same blackmail threat to force me to maintain contact with her and to ensure that she had contact with the children. I'm sure you will have noticed that I kept my visits to her to a minimum after April of 2016 and that the children rarely saw her after that.

You were right all along. She is and always has been a manipulative, lying, cheating slut. And I apologise for ever defending her and trying to convince you otherwise. Mind you, she's nowhere near as accomplished at lying, cheating and sluttery as I've become.

She was right about one thing, though. Dan was an expert lover. And it only took him the two remaining nights in New Zealand to overcome my resistance to his duress. After that, we became seasoned lovers - and accomplished dirty dancers - filling in for our absent partners whenever we were on assignment.

And that's how I justified my actions. He and I were merely acting as surrogates for absent loved ones. But that changed when, during the following year, Dan invited Harry to join us. That was when I learned of the erotic pleasures that can be obtained from being double penetrated. If you remember, it was around that time that I started asking you to insert a large vibrating dildo into my rectum when we had vaginal sex. I particularly loved the way you would remove it just before you swapped holes.

I had to stop reading at this point as my eyes were so full of tears I could no longer see the words on the paper. Reading about Shelley's betrayal was soul-destroying. I threw the pages down onto the coffee table in front of me before standing to walk to the bar to refresh my drink. I couldn't recall how often I'd done this since opening the letter but found I had to uncork a new bottle to top up my glass. The funny thing was that the bottle I had already consumed had had no effect on me. And I didn't remember refilling my glass, however often it had been required.

I started reading again after resuming my seat.

So there you have the how. How it started and how it progressed from a one-off encounter - okay, a one-off, four-night encounter - to a point where I looked forward to getting away so I could give full rein to the slut I had become. But that doesn't answer the question of why it happened. And for that, I don't have an explanation. Perhaps I should talk to a pshrink about it. He or she - probably a she - might be able to help me to understand what drove me to destroy everything I held dear. It's a pity you won't be around for me to share that information with.

But enough self-pity and soul-searching.

While it might be argued that my tryst with my real-life Clarence in Mount Isa was when my life began to turn to shit, it wasn't. I still believe I could have put that one-off transgression behind me, and our lives would have returned to normal had it not been for Dan's - and Mum's - blackmail treat. So, no. The real turning point - the point of no return - occurred when I surrendered to Dan's coercion while in New Zealand. That was when I began living two separate but very different lives. When at home, I was a loving wife and mother. When away from home, however, my alternate persona took over, and I became a slut with a penchant for multiple-partner sex.

I know it sounds trite, but my sluttery had nothing to do with love. My love was reserved for you and you alone. That was always the case and still is. But the thrill of enjoying sex with others kept driving me. That, and the excitement I derived from the risk of discovery that was present every time I climbed into bed with Dan or Harry - or Dan and Harry - or any of the others I fucked over the years.

Speaking of those others, I should tell you that my affair with my cowboy lover was reignited during each of the following years we covered the rodeo. Of course, my adultery was in full swing by then, so my sleeping with him was only a continuation of my established behavioural pattern.

I have no idea how I was able to separate my two personalities. Perhaps I suffer from a schizophrenic disorder that allows me to switch on and off at will. Perhaps it was simply the ability to compartmentalise I mentioned earlier. Or, perhaps I had learned the art of self-hypnosis, which allowed me to completely block out the part of my life that didn't fit my home life.

That might be another answer I might get from my pshrink. But as I don't believe I'm schizoid, and I don't believe I am a good enough actor to pull off the compartmentalising thing - at least to the extent required to affect the deception needed to hide my alter ego from you for so long - I believe it has to be that last of those. It's the only way I can explain my ability to fool you for as long as I did.

I also believe that, had it not been for that one careless slip-up while in Fiji, I would still be pulling the wool over your eyes, and we would still be playing at being the happily married couple I'd hoped we'd always be. But I became overconfident in my ability to keep my secret life hidden from you. And a single inadvertent display of affection became the centrepiece of my downfall.

That slip-up wouldn't have happened had Dan still been my producer. We were always careful about keeping our relationship out of the public eye when on assignment. But not only was he good in bed, he was also good at his job. His promotion and transfer to Sydney at the end of 2017 marked the point where my extra-curricular career would progress from sluttery to whoredom.

I don't know how it happened - whether Dan passed me over to him or Harry filled him in on our away-from-home activities - but Geoff Lyons, my new producer, ended up replacing Dan in my bed when we were on assignment.

That was fine with me as, although he wasn't as skilled as Dan in the lovemaking stakes, he was better equipped than Dan to fulfil his role. He and Harry continued to be my only lovers during the first few trips we undertook in 2018, but the choreography changed on our fourth assignment. That was when Geoff suggested introducing another player into the mix so I could experience being made airtight.

Things escalated quickly after that, and during the second of my overseas trips in 2019, I experienced my first - to quote a word you euphemistically used in your letter - 'moresome'. While I admit to enjoying what I can only describe as my first gangbang, I don't know that it would have been so enjoyable without the drugs Geoff had given me. We had often snorted a bit of cocaine during our earlier experimentation with multiple partners - the threesomes and foursomes - but on this occasion, in addition to the coke, he had given me an ecstasy pill, which he told me would enhance my sensory pleasure. It certainly did that.

I don't know where he obtained the drugs he used - he certainly wasn't stupid enough to attempt carrying them across international borders - but wherever we travelled, he always seemed to be able to get his hands on what he needed.

It wasn't until after my second such event - which occurred during our last overseas assignment in 2019 - that I discovered that Geoff had charged each player for the privilege of fucking me. That was when I realised how low I'd sunk. Not only had I become a whore. I had become a drug-dependent whore.

I was forced to take a close look at myself and ask how long it would be before cocaine and ecstasy weren't going to be enough? How long would it be before I was adding ice to the mix to give me the stamina I needed to fulfil my desire for more cock?

That was my 'Come to Jesus' moment. I decided I'd had enough of being manipulated by people like Dan Smith and Geoff Lyons. That was when I made up my mind to start looking at alternative career pathways. I had already received approaches from other networks and thought that might be an option. But then I wondered whether such a move would change anything. From what I had seen while on assignment, they all seemed to be tarred with the same brush.

Although I hadn't said anything to Geoff or Harry, the state premier's flag-waving trip in November of that year was going to be my last; which is why I didn't object to the invitation to stay in Cairns for a couple of extra days after the premier returned to Brisbane. You were right in the assumption you made in your letter that we were in the middle of something other than a scripting meeting when you called that night. Although I was thankful that you seemed to believe my toe-stubbing story, I knew I couldn't keep taking chances if I was to hold our marriage together. That call reinforced my decision to get out from under my alternate life.

The Covid pandemic turned out to be a blessing for me. Sure, it resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands - if not millions - of people throughout the world, but the international border closures and domestic travel restrictions meant I only had to focus my reporting on local issues. It also meant that for almost eighteen months, I could return to being the loving wife and mother I wanted to be. More importantly, it meant I could sleep in my own bed every night with the man I really wanted to be with. During that period, I vowed there would be no more away trips and that I'd never allow myself to be pimped out by my deviant producer again.

And that's how it was until the reporting crew that was supposed to accompany the prime minister to Fiji came down with Covid, and my crew was given the assignment. I might even have knocked it back had it not been for the carrot being dangled in front of me by the network's bosses. When I told them I was reluctant to accept any more away-from-home assignments, they told me I was being considered for the presenter's role in a new current affairs program they had in the pipeline. While nothing was said about my promotion being dependent upon my accepting the offered trip, it was certainly implied.

After thinking it over, I decided to accept the assignment. But I also decided that it would be on my terms, and there'd be no bed swapping involved. It would be one last hurrah, I'd thought. And that's what it turned out to be; only not in the way I had anticipated.

Unfortunately, Geoff had other plans. When I told him I'd had enough of the sleeping around, he pulled the same blackmail stunt with me that Dan had done; only what he had on me was much worse than anything Dan had used. He told me he had video recordings of all my sexual exploits and would ensure that copies ended up in your hands if I didn't comply.

As had been the case with Dan, I knew he had me by the short hairs. My first night with him and Harry had rekindled my old sexual desires, so I snorted the cocaine, took the pills he offered me, and did as I was told; even down to sleeping with a fat Fijian dignitary during our extra time in that country. While there were a couple of foursome nights during that trip, I was thankful that there hadn't been any moresomes.

When we returned from that trip - and after eventually being released from quarantine - I decided to call Geoff's bluff. I told him that sending the videos to you wouldn't simply result in the end of my marriage, but it would also put an end to all our careers.

"In fact," I said, "the loss of my marriage and our careers would be the least of our problems." I then explained to him that you were not only unforgiving but that your retribution on everyone concerned in his cuckolding - me included - would be merciless.

"He might come across as a mild-mannered investigative reporter," I told him, "but he wouldn't hesitate to bring down heaven's wrath on all our heads. He might let us live to regret our actions, but then again, he might decide that the world would be a better place without us. And he wouldn't even have to do the job himself. He has the underworld connections to ensure it happened when he was in a room full of people hundreds of kilometres away."

I was bullshitting him, of course - at least I hoped I was - but he wasn't to know that. He agreed to release his hold over me and told me that he and Harry would request a transfer to another team.

The trouble was that I came home to find that you were suffering from what you told me was Covid-related impotence. Initially, that wasn't a problem. Geoff and Harry had kept me from going crazy during our quarantine period, but as your problem persisted, I found I was climbing the walls with frustration. With Geoff and Harry still assigned to me while they awaited their transfers, I arranged a couple of away trips so I could get together with them.

By the time the Cairns trip came up last December, I was back on the treadmill, which is why, with their transfers imminent, we decided to stay for an extra few days. We knew it would probably be the last time we would be together, so decided to make the most of it.

I felt you knew something wasn't kosher when I called to tell you about our change of plans and almost cancelled our extended stay. I told Geoff that I thought you knew about my infidelity and suggested we cut our trip short. But I wasn't thinking with my head and let him talk me out of it. I now wish I had listened to my gut. But, as I was to learn when I arrived home, it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference.

When I read your letter upon returning to an empty house after that final trip, I discovered I'd left my run to save our marriage much too late. Having seen the video evidence of my betrayal while I'd been in Fiji (what were the chances of that happening?), you had set the wheels in motion to bring about the end of our marriage in the most dramatic way possible. And I have to say that you achieved that goal in spades.

Your letter laid it all out for me. And I have to applaud your planning. It was both Machiavellian and meticulous; right down to the part where you avoided having sexual contact with me by feigning Covid-related impotence.

In hindsight, I realise that you even told me you knew about my duplicity; not just in that phone conversation while I was in Cairns, but much earlier, when - amongst other things - you asked about what Geoff and Harry had got up to while in Fiji. But your messages were too cryptic for me to grasp their meaning. While I heard your words. I was so confident in my own double-dealing skills that I was deaf to their content.

Your warning about STDs came through loud and clear, though, and I went and had myself checked out the day after you raised the subject. I also told Geoff and Harry to do the same. I had always insisted that those who joined us in our adventures wear condoms, but there were times during some of our more intense activities when I wasn't as observant of the rules as I should have been. It turned out that all three of us had picked up chlamydia infections. It was six months before we were cleared of the more dangerous diseases.

Even if I had understood what you were trying to tell me that night, I would have used promises, lies, prevarication and equivocation to keep you from pulling the pin on our marriage. As it turned out, nothing I said or did would have changed anything. You already had the puzzle pieces you needed to build a three-dimensional picture of my betrayal. And your plans to adopt the nuclear option were well advanced. It was only a matter of timing. And, boy, you timed it beautifully.

With you gone, Geoff attempted to renege on his promise to release me. He couldn't see any reason for us not keeping the band together, was how he put it. That was when I went to my boss and told him I wanted to commence sexual harassment proceedings against Geoff, Harry and Dan. He laughed my complaint off, though, telling me that sexual interaction between members of a reporting crew was common and that the Vegas Amendment overrode any of the network's written morals policies.

Fortunately, the Human Resources Director wasn't so flippant when I took my complaint to her. Long story short, she told me I could either report the three men to the police - which would put everything into the public domain - or I could let her handle it in-house; thus ensuring there would be no publicity and I would keep my job.

Geoff, Harry and Dan were fired for cause; although the actual cause was never disclosed. It was a hollow victory, though, as I was relegated to the bench, where I was restricted to reporting on local events.

When I objected to effectively being demoted, telling them that if my career was over, I might as well seek legal advice before going to the police and commencing legal action against the network and criminal and civil action against the three people involved, attitudes changed. Station management suddenly couldn't do enough for me.

I have you to thank for that. Had you not taught me to stand up to bullies, my career would have come to an abrupt end. I know you probably think that having destroyed a marriage and having brought my profession into disrepute, it should have ended, anyway. But thank you, nonetheless.

As a reward for keeping my mouth shut and not commencing legal action against the network, I received a substantial ex gratia payment, a promotion and a posting to the United States as their east coast correspondent. I guess I'll have to wait and see what happens when I return to Australia at the end of my two-year period of exile.

Which brings me to the present. And to us.

First, let me thank you for transferring your share of the ownership of the house to me, but the truth is that it was always our house; our home. It wasn't until I started getting my affairs in order before travelling to the States, however, that I discovered just how generous your gift was. While attempting to calculate how much equity we had in the house if I were to sell it, I learned that before signing it over to me, you had also paid out your share of the mortgage.