My Guilty Conscience

XXX

Both Crissy and Melissa had closed their eyes and were now fast asleep.

The cartoon mermaid movie was ending soon and I kept glaring at the screen as the girls rested in my lap.

My two daughters were the world to me, and I needed to find a way to resist the temptation to see Derrick again. Samuel was still staring at me, as he had done throughout the whole movie. He was obviously not just suspicious that I had cheated on him, but absolutely certain of it. He would be watching me like a hawk from here on in. I therefore knew that I just had to end the affair with Derrick. I couldn't risk Samuel catching me in the act. The thought that he would get full custody of my precious daughters in any adultery inspired divorce was heartbreaking to say the least.

A part of me just wanted to confess to Samuel, then promise never to do it again. But Samuel was not the forgiving kind. He liked to think of the things and people in his life as his prized possessions.

"I'll put the girls to bed," Samuel offered. I knew why he had suggested it, and that was so that he and I could talk later on about where I really was. He didn't believe I had been to the gym, and I couldn't blame him for thinking that. I really wasn't cut out for slithering around like some loathsome two timing snake, humping strange men while my husband babysat.

The whole thing for me was beginning to become an exercise in frustration. Men could seem to cheat and never get caught. They were devious like that. I had heard horror stories from girlfriends how their husbands had managed to carry on multiple affairs under their very noses for years without getting caught. Yet here I was, being found out after only my very first botched and bungled day. Men made good liars. Women were supposed to pick up the pieces, not shatter their own marriages.

He gently pried the girls free from my grasp, lifting them with both arms as the grandfather clock on the wall began to chime eight o'clock. I hated having something so old fashioned and draconian as that oblong wooden clock in the house, but Samuel thought it made the house look more elegant and stately.

I watched as he carried my sleeping bundles of joy up the stairs.

I yawned. We knew each other's routines. He would surf the channels for an hour or two while I went to my office to check the multiple sites for my romance books sales figures. I then usually did an hour or two of writing, then met Samuel in bed. There we would talk about how our savings were growing, and about new clubs or hobbies for our daughters. Sometimes we would chat about politics, or friends we knew and what was happening in their lives. Then he would kiss me on the cheek and go to sleep. Samuel was a really heavy sleeper, and once he began snoring, not even an earthquake would wake him. That was generally when I would slip out of bed, go back into my office, and begin to watch porn. Sometimes I would use a dildo, and sometimes I would use my finger. In the end, I would end up making so much damn noise with my moaning and yelping that I was always amazed at how Samuel would simply sleep through it all, dead to the world, and to everyone else but himself. A part of me knew he loved me in his own crazy way, though it was hard for him because I knew his erectile dysfunction made him feel like only half a man.

I closed the door to my office and switched on my desktop.

I had a mirror placed strategically at the side of the table so I could see if Samuel was quietly and craftily opening the door. He was supposed to knock, but I couldn't make too much of a fuss when he didn't, otherwise he would wonder just what the hell I as doing in there.

I signed into my email secret account. Samuel knew the password to my regular one, but he didn't know about my secret one. It was probably the only smart thing I had done in this whole sordid adulterous mess.

Immediately, three emails from Derrick popped onto the screen.

The first read, "I had a fabulous time today. You surely are my fantasy girl, the woman of my dreams. I really am falling for you. Can I see you tomorrow?"

The second read, "You're not answering you phone. And it's been four hours since my email. Are you not home yet?"

The third read, "I'm pacing the floors. Can you at least pick up the phone? Or maybe send me an email. I miss you already. When can I see you again?"

My heart sank like a lead rock. Derrick was an ultra-handsome beefcake and a multi-millionaire. He could surely get any woman he wanted, and yet, as things now stood, he only wanted me. It seemed as though he had become obsessed with me, perhaps even in love with me somewhat. I had anticipated him letting me come over once a week on Saturdays with no strings attached. I didn't realize he was going to fall in love with my oversexed body and sultry, charming personality. And yet, he had seemed to have done just that. And now he was seemingly hooked and had me under his skin.

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling and pondered my eventual fate. I had lied to two men, and played a dirty trick on each of them. I had cheated on Samuel and lied about many things, including my whereabouts and what I'd done instead of going to the gym. But I had also lied to my friend Cheryl's boss, Derrick. He had made it explicitly and abundantly clear that he did not want anything whatsoever to do with married women. He was looking for a very sexy lady with charm, humor, sophistication and wit. He wanted a long term relationship leading to marriage and had said such in different emails and on the phone. His passion in person had shown me he meant business about cherishing, adoring and admiring me. I hated the fact I had caused him to start to fall in love with me under false pretences. I hated it even more that I myself could not stop my own finicky heart from starting to move toward him.

As if on cue, an email from my best friend Cheryl suddenly came on screen. She wanted to know if I had followed through on my intention to hump her hunky boss. She was worried because Derrick kept on asking her questions about her stunning black girlfriend "with the Goddess like body and super model face."

Cheryl wanted to meet me for Sunday brunch to discuss it because she was afraid that if her boss Derrick were to find out I was married or if I might do anything to break his heart then she might get fired.

I emailed her back, saying I would indeed meet her for lunch. Things with Derrick and Samuel were both starting to get out of hand. And now my best friend Cheryl was getting caught up in it. When I added that to the fact that my precious daughters were in danger of having their family torn apart, I needed an exit strategy fast. I was beginning to realize that what I had originally felt could not hurt anyone, was now rearing its ugly head to potentially hurt everyone in its path. How could I not have known that this was going to happen?

I descended the hill, then rounded the corner and watched as the floating restaurant named 'Freddy's Seafood Edibles,' bobbed up and down on the choppy waters. The sun was out, but an unexpected cold blast had sent winds scurrying throughout the downtown core.

Chery's car was already in the parking lot when I pulled in. I usually liked to drive with my top down, but the forceful winds had prevented me from putting that plan into action.

The wind was really whipping as I stepped out of the car, almost yanking the door backwards out of my hand.

A light drop suddenly landed on the back of my hand. Rain as well? Not a good combination. A storm was definitely brewing. I hoped it wasn't going to be as bad as the one now brewing in my life.

I had awakened to Samuel's incessant whining about the still missing phone, my once missing rings, the unaccounted for extra time, and the fact that a gym bag had been forgotten on a chair. He kept saying that he could possibly see how one or two of the things might have happened as sheer coincidence, but all four of them at once? If I had of supposed that Samuel was going to forget about yesterday's gym escapades any time soon, then I was sadly mistaken. I was beginning to think that maybe Samuel had even hired someone to follow me to lunch today. He seemed suspicious when I said I was having lunch with my girlfriend. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse.

I hurried into the gated enclosure that led to the end of the dock. From there a set of white painted wooden steps ushered me up and onto the boat.

Immediately as I stepped inside, I was glad I came. The place was light and airy. The décor was bright and lively.

The sound of a live lunchtime band seemed to put a festive mood to the meeting as Cheryl waved at my arrival.

"Sally. Over here."

I made my way past the chatting noon time crowd, suddenly deciding that I would join the imbibing mood by having some type of alcoholic beverage, wine at the very least. I badly needed a couple of good stiff drinks.

"Cheryl, you changed your hair color?" I said, pulling out my chair and sitting down directly across from her.

"Uh-huh. Blondes definitely don't always have more fun, so I thought I'd try to see how brunettes have it."

"I'm sure brunettes have it just as hard as blonds do," I said.

"Listen, Sally. I ordered a shrimp salad for you as an appetizer, I hope you don't mind. I didn't want us eating at different times. Oh, and I ordered a glass of red wine for you. I know that sometimes you-"

"Think nothing of it. Actually, you read my mind. And for the main course?"

"I was going to try the crab legs actually."

"They have crab legs? Sounds yummy."

As if on cue, the waitress showed up, dropping off our wine, a pitcher of water, and our shrimp salads.

"Have you decided yet?"

"We'll both have the crab legs with scalloped potatoes and crème sauce."

"Very good. I'll be back shortly."

"Thank-you, and can we have extra napkins, please?"

"Of course."

I smiled as the waitress walked away. She had been staring at my amazing black cleavage. Not that that surprised me. Everyone stared at my black, formidable cleavage.

"I never get used to seeing your damn breasts," Cheryl blurted out jealously. If I had your looks I'd be banging a different billionaire hunk every night."

"I wish," I agreed.

"Are you banging my boss?"

Cheryl's question was direct and precisely to the point. She stared at me intently.

"What makes you think I'm banging your boss?"

"Cute, answering a question with a question. Usually such a ploy signifies guilt."

"You think I'm guilty of making love to Derrick? I'm already married, remember?"

"Yeah, you're already married, and I do remember. But that is the whole problem. Derrick thinks you're single, and he's confided in me that you are the woman of his dreams. My boss doesn't usually discuss his private life with me, but he knows I'm your best friend after I invited you to the company picnic. He says you and him have been chatting and emailing back and forth for over a month. And yet, he is complaining you won't go out with him."

"Actually I did go out with him. Yesterday."

"Damn, double damn and triple damn. And let me guess, you being the sex starved woman you are ended up making love to him, didn't you?"

I shrugged. "I'd rather not say what we did."

"Fine, you play your coy little games, only he now wants me to tell him where you live. He thinks it might be nice for him to swing by and bring you flowers one day. Dammit, Sally. I feel trapped. He asked me the other day why you refused to tell him where you live or to give him your home phone number. He wanted to know why you only give him your cell number. Why am I suddenly in the middle of all this? I brought you to the company picnic so that I wouldn't be alone there, not so you could come on to the damn company president and let him develop the hots for you."

I said nothing further in response, but merely pulled on the long brown strands of curly hair, looking at them as though I suspected the ends were frizzy. I was desperately buying time, thinking of what to say.

"And then, this morning, on a Sunday, my day off, he calls me at home and wants me to tell him straight up whether or not you're married. What the fuck! I was in a full blown panic. I had to lie and say no. I didn't want to screw up any little arrangement you might have going with him, and I didn't want to get him upset because it's plain to see he's head over heels crazy about you. Just fucking great. So if he ever does find out I lied about you being married then he's gonna axe me for sure, and I need that job. Why does he think you're married?"

"Well, when I met him yesterday, he wanted me to stay longer and I said I had to rush off. I guess he got the impression I was desperate to get home. He must have believed I was married."

"And so I will ask you one last time, and I don't want you to play these goofy games with me. I gotta know what I'm up against. So, did you sleep with him or not."

"I didn't sleep with him, it was the middle of the day."

"Thank God."

"But I did fuck and suck that fabulous giant white cock of his."

"What? Are you crazy? Do you know what a bad position that puts me in? The man is obviously smitten by your charms and he is asking me all kinds of questions about you."

"What kinds of questions?"

"I just finished telling you. Are you deaf? As well, he asked the usual frightening stuff such as what is your favorite color. What is your shoe size and your dress size and, wait for it. What is your ring size?"

"He didn't ask you that."

"Why would I make shit like that up? I am going out of my mind worried about what he's gonna ask me next. Like I said, he wants your home phone number and he wants your home address. And I can tell he didn't quite believe me when I told him you were single and that you weren't seeing anyone. All he kept saying was, "a hot babe like that with no husband? No fiancé? No boyfriend?"

"So you say."

"So I say? Damn right, so I say. You take a very easy going attitude towards all this pressure I'm under. Obviously he's got it bad for you and it's freaking me out. He's expecting answers from me and I think it's only a matter of time before he starts making threats against me if I don't tell him what he wants to hear."

"He can't force you to tell him anything."

"He can force me onto the unemployment line. Isn't that enough?"

"He has to have a legitimate reason for-"

"Hey, that guy just snapped your picture."

My blood ran cold. "Who?"

"That man over by the flower market across the street. I noticed him walking behind you when you first came. Obviously he was following you."

"You think Samuel would have been able to hire someone already? The gym fiasco was just yesterday?"

"Gym fiasco? Never mind, I don't wanna know. I'm up to my neck already. However, as for the nosy photographer over there. It's possible Derrick hired him."

"Derrick?"

"Sure, why not? If you won't tell him about yourself, and if I won't tell him about you, then why not have some private eye simply follow you around."

"Naww, if he was following me to start with, he would have had to of known where I lived already. It's probably Samuel. Shit. He works fast. A scheming little asshole is what he is."

"Don't stare, it's probably better you don't let on you see him. That way you can ditch him easily if he thinks you don't know he's there. You can catch him off guard, you know, pretend like you're going for your parked car but then duck around a corner and grab a cab instead."

"Smart thinking. You're really smart Cheryl."

"Yeah, but not smart enough to have a best friend that is not humping my damn boss!"

"I only did it once, yesterday to be exact."

"Once is one times too many. My boss can be obsessive, especially when he falls in love. He is used to having his way, and owning whatever he wants."

"Derrick is a pussy cat. I'm much more concerned with Samuel. If he finds out, he can initiate a divorce where I am labelled the adulterer, meaning a judge would tend to award him custody of my two darling daughters."

"I don't know what to say. You seemed to have fucked up royally. Some would say you had it made and are on the verge of blowing it."

"Girl, that's easy for you to say. Samuel can only last about thirty seconds in bed, if that."

"Well that is thirty seconds more than what I am getting now. You should have let well enough alone, and you should have for sure let Derrick alone. He's not looking on you as one of his conquests or one night stands. He's looking on you as the end all and be all. His dream girl that he can take home to momma."

"All very flattering."

"And all very dangerous."

"I agree. But what to do about it?"

"Right now, my dear Sally. The answer to that is quite simple. It is not too late to stop and quit while you're ahead. If you email Derrick and tell him you are going back to an old boyfriend, then he will understand. He will be pissed, mind you, but at least he will understand. But if you continue to see him, then he is going to get really deep into you and not want to let go of you no matter how many men later on you claim to have. There is still time to get yourself out of it, but you have to do it now."

"The problem with that is that Derrick is the best lover I have ever had. He is more than real, a fantasy come true in the bedroom, or anywhere else in the house for that matter. When I was with him yesterday, I felt more satisfied, enraptured, and turned on than I ever have in my entire life. I can't just turn my back on that. The pleasure he brought me was riveting and astounding. It was far too intense and fabulous to simply just back away from now."

"I can't believe you are saying that crap. You're whole life is in danger of coming crashing down on your damn super thick skull and all you want to do is make things a hundred times worse."

"I can't help it. God blessed me with this beautiful, sexy body, and I need to put it into action. For five long years I have allowed my lovemaking to cease and become dormant. Now I feel like I have been brought back to life. I can't stop, even if I wanted to."

"Fine, you can't stop. Then do it with somebody else."

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't pretend as if you didn't. If you have to get it on, and if Samuel can't do it, then fuck somebody else on the side and leave my damn boss Derrick out of it. There are lots of men out there that only want one night stands or a friend with benefits."

"There is no one else like Derrick that can get my damn juices pumping the way he does."

"You don't know that. You were so desperate to get your bell rung that probably any half decent lover would have made that kind of impression on you."

"Not true, although I wish it was. Derrick is, well, he is special."

"Fine, he's special, and he's not going to go away if you keep fucking around with him. The bottom line is that if you keep on seeing him, you are going to wind up losing your marriage and your daughters, and I am going to end up losing my job, and Derrick is going to find out that he was being played. He thinks you're single. Can't you get that through your thick skull? He wants to find someone to have a long term relationship with, and then get married. You're fucking with his life and with his head by pretending you're available when you are not. What if he gets so wound up in you that he ends up committing suicide?"

"As if that's ever going to happen."

"It might if you keep messing with his head. You are a one in a million girl, and he is very impressionable. I mean, it's not like he's making this shit up. He's just reacting to, and believing what you tell him, and that is that you want to have a long term relationship with him and that you can marry him at some later date because you are not taken. But we both know that isn't true. What you are doing to him is not fair. Ninety-nine percent of all men on the planet would not care if you are married and would love to have a one night stand with you. You just happened, however, to pick the one guy in that last one percent that is desperate to find a Goddess like woman for a wife. He is building his life around you and risking his sanity, his heart and his trusting mind in trying to make you his everything."