Playboy Killed My Marriage Pt. 02

I wish I could tell you that after this, I left Jack's dressing room, showered, and headed back to the hotel. That's not what happened. We showered together, dressed, and went to his house where we proceeded to fuck ourselves into oblivion for the next six or seven hours. Giving no thought to my husband, my marriage, or anything else, my animal instincts took over and all I wanted to do was fuck.

When I woke up the next day, I saw that my phone had blown up with messages from Rocco from the night before. His last text indicated that he was worried he'd not heard from me. I quickly went into the bathroom and called him. He's such a trusting soul it hurts my heart that I did this to him. I lied to him for the first time in our marriage and told him that we had a wrap party that ran very late, I had a bit too much to drink, and fell immediately to sleep. He knew I'd be coming home soon and told me he'd be at the airport waiting for me. When we hung up, I was upset and started to cry, only now regretting the actions that set my marriage on a path to destruction.

Jack was downstairs in his kitchen making me brunch. He saw that I was upset and told me that he figured I was feeling some remorse.

"After I got up to work out this morning and left the room, I heard you crying. I know you're hurting a bit and regret what we did. And for that, I'm deeply sorry." He apologized profusely and did everything to reassure me that this was a one-off, one-time thing and it was not his goal to bed a married woman and do damage to my marriage.

I judged Jack to be very honest and sincere. There's no way he was lying about this. But I told him I didn't blame him. Regrettably, I made the decision; I gave him the go-signal to take me. He's mortal and I placed him in a difficult position. "Look Jack, as you said yesterday at lunch when you were apologizing in advance for your arousal that you knew would show once we got started the shoot, you're only human. And you're young. No, this is not on you. It was my choice, but now I have to live with that choice and whatever consequences it may bring. Jack offered to drive me back to my hotel, but I thought that might be another bad decision. With tears in my eyes, I gave him a quick hug as I got into my Uber.

Tina called me when I got back to my hotel. She told me that within a week, she would send me a private password protected link to the final edit and release version of both shoots, as well as my itinerary for my return trip in one month just prior to the release of the premier issue to their online subscribers. But from the rushes that she and others viewed the evening before, she was confident that the shoots were a resounding success.

I was a mess on the flight home. I still don't understand how I allowed myself to do what I did. But I pulled myself together and straightened myself out before we landed. True to his word, Rocco was waiting for me with open arms at the arrival baggage claim. I put on a smile and attempted to forget what happened. That night, when we got home, Rocco took me to our bedroom and made sweet love to me. I feared that it was the last time or one of the last times we would be intimate. And the most damning part of all is that while Rocco was making love to me, I was replaying the shoot and my fuck fest afterwards in my mind repeatedly. Rocco sensed that I was not fully present. But he told me I was probably tired from the trip and the stress of the shoots.

Just as Tina said, in about a week the final edited versions of the two shoots arrived. I really struggled with whether I should look at the second video. Sooner or later, Rocco would want to see it. I couldn't hide it from him. I decided that it would be best for me to view it now and see how bad the damage really was. I reasoned that with their careful editing, Playboy might not have kept the more intimate scenes in. But I was only fooling myself. The next morning, I waited for Rocco to leave for work to look at the video. When I watched it, I got physically ill and had to pause it halfway through. My entire breakfast came back up to say hello. When I resumed the video, it only got worse. I think either one of the editors had a foot fetish or they thought that shots of my feet would widen their subscriber base even more catering those who liked that kind of thing. The damning shot, the one which I knew would end my marriage at the very moment it happened, was not only in the video, but they also had a closeup of my foot bucking Jack's ass like you would a horse trying to get it to move forward. It wasn't the gentle nudge I thought I had given him at the time, but a full-on kick. They then panned to a shot of my face just as Jack's cock entered my pussy. You can't fake that look of ecstasy. I knew then that Rocco would see it immediately.

Somehow, I convinced Rocco to wait to view the video until it was released to the public. I foolishly suggested that it would be so hot if he would wait and if I kept him on the edge. On the day of the video's release, I tried yet another stalling tactic. But Rocco wasn't buying it and completely lost his patience. I can count the number of times on one hand in all the years we had been together that Jack got angry with me.

"You know, Amber Lynn, you've treated me like shit for the past month. I've tried to give you some space, but your lousy piss poor attitude just got worse. What the fuck is your problem? I've been nothing short of patient and encouraging. And you've practically cut me off from sex. I never thought in a million years that it would happen to us, but it did. There's something you're not telling me. What are you hiding, Amber Lynn?" Jack never ever raised his voice to me like this.

"I know, Rocco. You don't deserve what I've put you through in the last month. I've made a mistake but before we discuss it, I want you to know that I love you completely. My heart belongs to you only. Please keep that in mind. I'll leave you alone to watch the video. I don't want to see it. When you're done, we'll talk. And I promise to tell you everything."

Rocco just shook his head and went into his home office to watch the video. Because he left the door open, I could hear the background music when he got to the second video. About halfway through, Rocco started crying. Although he's a gentleman, Rocco is a powerfully built man and his appearance and demeanor can be very intimidating. In all my years with him, the only time I saw him cry was at his father's funeral. I heard the notes to the music that were timed with the foot kick, so I knew that Rocco was seeing the crucial shot right then. I told myself with some degree of hope that if he could get through that scene, if somehow, he doesn't notice the movement of her foot, maybe, just maybe we had a chance. No such luck. I saw Rocco bolt from the room into the bathroom where she could hear him losing his lunch.

He stayed in the bathroom for what seemed like an hour. I heard the water running and I figured that as a proud Italian, he was probably trying to muffle his sobbing. My heart ached for this man with whom I shared so many good years. We weren't only lovers, but really best friends. In fact, Rocco never saw the need to have a broad circle of friends because he and I were together in most of our non-work time. Everyone thought we had an idyllic marriage. And we really did until I completely and utterly fucked it all to smithereens.

I heard the bathroom door open and braced myself for the inevitable confrontation. I knew that I had to be honest and couldn't use any of the euphemisms and bullshit excuses that I've read cheating wives regularly employ. That wouldn't fly with him. But the confrontation never came. I heard the bedroom door close. He opened the door about a half hour later. I sat in the kitchen in nervous anticipation of what I knew was coming. But again, Rocco surprised me.

I heard him calmly and deliberately walk down the stairs to the front door. He stopped, turn around, slipped his wedding ring off his finger, and placed it in the key dish in the foyer. While he looked distraught, he was no longer crying. I started to open my mouth and got out the words, "Rocco, I'm really sorry. I ...." But he cut me off and raised his hand, signaling for me to stop.

"I won't ask you why or how many times you fucked him. First, you probably wouldn't tell me because you don't want to lie to me. And second, frankly, I don't want to hear it. The video will haunt me for the rest of my life. Adding any of the details would only make my nightmare worse. It was enough to see the disrespect in plain sight when I noticed your wedding and engagement rings were still on your finger while you were in the throes of passion with another man. Know this, Amber Lynn...We're done. And I mean completely. I never want to see you or speak with you again. Other than texting me when you leave the house this week so that I can rent a truck and pick up my stuff, don't call me, don't text me, don't try to see me, or get in touch with me. I will see a divorce attorney tomorrow and have you served here at home so as not to embarrass you. If you need to discuss a point in the divorce petition, talk to my attorney."

I pleaded with him to be reasonable, but it fell on deaf ears. "You have every right to be angry. But I'm worried about you. Where will you go? What will you do? Don't leave this way. Okay, if you want a divorce, I'll sign whatever you send me. But I'm worried that you'll hurt yourself."

"That's rich, Amber Lynn. Now you're worried about me. Well understand this. You know that when I'm faced with a problem, I solve it, move on, and never look back. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Yeah, this is the biggest problem of my life, but I'll handle it the same way. And because you're seemingly worried about me, don't trouble yourself. I cry about a problem only once and I move on. I won't ever cry over you again. Worry about yourself, not me. Get yourself some help. Find out what caused such a severe lack of judgment that you not only cheated on our marriage, but you also fucked a kid that for all intents and purposes could be the age of your son if we had one. Oh...one more thing... My Playboy collection...Sell it or burn it for all I care. I don't want any of it. I was so obsessed that I allowed this to happen. That's my part in this. It was just a stupid fantasy. Goodbye Amber Lynn. I loved you with absolutely everything I had, but I guess it just wasn't enough."

And with that, Rocco got in his car, drove off, and I never saw him again.

I did the best I could, and I was able to hold myself together for a while. But just as I thought, my very conservative employer told me that while I was an excellent Accountant, I should start looking for a new job. Word got out about the video and about the divorce. Older men both married and single were preying on me thinking I was an easy lay. I decided to get out of town. With the three appearances I had to make for the magazine, the contest prize, and the royalties I made on the subscriptions, I had enough money to keep me going for quite a while. It turns out that the number of subscriptions went well beyond what the Marketing people predicted. The mature Playmate concept turned out to be a blockbuster win for Playboy and their shareholders.

I knew that one or two years down the road I would have to get a job. About a year later, I was told that I won Playmate of the Year. But I refused it and let them give it to the runner up Playmate.

Tina Bockrath and I became the best of friends because she went through something similar. She helped me get more public appearances, so I had a steady income. And she kept me sane at a time when I thought I would lose touch with reality without my Rocco. Given everything that went down with my employer, I had no desire to get back into accounting and subject myself to the predators out there.

Rocco was in my thoughts constantly. He was the first thing I thought of in the morning when I woke up and the last thing in the evening before I went to sleep. It didn't matter where I was or what I was doing at the time. I held him in my heart even though I knew he no longer wanted me, and I lost him forever. Since I didn't contest the divorce, it was expedited in a short time. Ever the gentleman even to the woman who broke his heart, Rocco was more than decent with our financial split and thankfully filed based on irreconcilable differences. I acceded to his wishes and never tried to contact him. But through friends I did keep track of his career and his life. As an award-winning Civil Engineer, he went on to build bridges in several middle eastern countries and last I heard was working on a new project in Dubai. As far as I know he never remarried. Even today, four years later, I still hold out hope against hope that we would someday be reunited.

For his part, Jack Elliot was so distraught over the infidelity that he had caused, he tried desperately to get out of his contract with Playboy. When he threatened to go public with his story, they acceded to his wishes. He finished his MBA and went to work in the banking industry.

Through some of my connections from the Playboy events that I had to attend, I met many rich and famous men. I'm ashamed to admit that I had such low self-esteem at that point in my life that I became a high-priced escort. Some of my regulars were Saudi princes, former famous athletes, and other well-known celebrities. But by the time I was 45, given the fast lifestyle I was leading, my looks started drying up and men stopped calling. When I knew my escorting days were behind me, I fell into a serious depression. I started with booze and pot and graduated to snorting coke.

Tina, always a good friend with a sympathetic ear, was very worried about me. She begged me to get help. But I refused. Instead, I descended into a world of pills and booze. I floated through my days like a zombie. The final straw came when Tina visited me. I don't remember much about that time. She told me later I was babbling incoherently and had consumed a fair number of tranquilizers. She called an ambulance and they had me on a psych hold for a while until I came out of my stupor and voluntarily agreed to remain in treatment for my addictions and for my depression.

Gradually, with Tina's help, I recovered. I returned to school to get my master's degree and I now teach Accounting at the local community college. I refused to date or have any relationships with men. My therapist felt confident that with ongoing treatment, I would be able to overcome my relationship fears as well.

I was told that for me to fully recover, I would have to forget Rocco and give up all hope that he and I would one day be reunited. While my rehabilitation was successful, I never took the advice about forgetting him. Even now four years later, every evening I say a prayer that God watch over my Rocco, to keep him safe, and to one day bring him home to me.

READERS...I hope you enjoyed my story. What you've read at the end is my planned conclusion for this tale. I considered extending it further to get into Amber Lynn's and Rocco's post-divorce life with a reconciliation at its conclusion. I admit that I tend to lean towards RAAC. But to do so here just didn't seem right. But how do you feel? Would you like to see another part, and if so, should it have a reconciliation ending or a "moving on" conclusion? Your comments are always welcome and appreciated. I know that LW readers are not shy and can be brutally honest. But that's what I like about this genre. Writers know exactly where they stand. That's why I read predominantly LW stories myself. Be well, everyone.