Sharing the Pain

This is a simple story about two people who shared the unexpected. You might have to use your imagination a bit as it is only 3,000 words.

Sharing the Pain.

My husband is working late again, tonight.

I received his text at five this afternoon, one of several he had sent me recently. Some suggested one of us should get a take-out, others told me he was going to be working late which usually meant about seven. This was the fifth time he had texted that he might not be home till sometime after ten. As he was the chief maintenance engineer for a well-known biscuit manufacturer this usually meant a major breakdown in one of the production lines.

My Joe had been a good husband for the twenty years we had been married. We met at my cousin's wedding. He was a friend of the groom and we just hit it off, as they say. A few dances led to an invitation to have dinner with him on the following Saturday and then before I knew it we were engaged and six months later my cousin was my Maid of Honour. I was only twenty-three.

That evening I had just finished my frozen meal when totally unexpectedly, the doorbell rang.

There in front of me stood a man. He was tall and slim wearing a white polo neck shirt and black slacks. It's amazing how I took all that in so quickly. I thought I'd seen him before, there was just something familiar about him.

He was just staring at me with a bewildered look on his face. "Good evening," he eventually said. "Are you Gillian Summers?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, not sure what to do next.

"Please may I come in?" he asked very politely.

After I closed the door we just looked at each other. "Do you know who I am?" he finally asked me.

I shook my head because although there was something familiar about him I had no idea what his name was.

"I'm Tony Nelson, and right now your husband is fucking my wife in room 216 of the Marriott Hotel."

He said it all in a rush as though he wanted to get it over with. Then he just stared at me as I stared back at him trying to comprehend what he had just told me. Had he just said that my husband was fucking his wife? Nothing of that made any sense to me.

"My god, you are beautiful," he suddenly stated and a moment later he had his arms around me. They were strong arms and they completely surrounded me. Then I felt him tremble and instinctively I put my arms around him because I knew that what he had told me was hurting him just as much as I was.

His arms felt good around me like my husband used to hold me. Then I recalled the look on his face when I opened the door and he saw me. My husband used to look at me like that. Now my husband was fucking his wife.

"How do you know?" I asked, hoping this was the first time.

"I followed her and saw them go into the room. Tonight, was the third time."

The third time, but my husband had texted me several times over the last few months to tell me he was working late. "My husband has been working late a lot more than three times. I'm so sorry," I told him.

"Thank you," he mumbled as we hugged each other in our despair. "You are so beautiful," he whispered in my ear as his hands held me closer. My husband used to tell me I was beautiful. Then I made the mistake of looking up at him as he raised his head off my shoulder. The kiss he gave me was totally unexpected and wonderful.

I held him tighter and accepted his kiss. My husband used to kiss me like this, I admitted to myself. Now my husband is fucking his wife, I reminded myself as his kiss continued.

Then totally unexpectedly I was being lifted up and this man was carrying me up the stairs as I clung to him with my arms around his neck. Then I remembered. Sheila Nelson was the personal manager where my husband worked.

He took me into my bedroom and stood me back on my feet. This time it was me who put my arms around him as I remembered his first words to me. 'Your husband is fucking my wife.' It didn't matter where, as once again I was wrapped in his strong arms. It was as though cataracts had been removed from my eyes and I was able to see everything clearly and in full dazzling colours. All the while my husband had been neglecting me he had been fucking this man's wife. Three times that I now knew about.

"May I," he asked me as he bent down and lifted my dress up. Instinctively I raised my arms as he lifted it over my head. Was this really happening, I asked myself as I stood in front of him in just my pale blue panties and bra. Why not; my husband is fucking his wife.

I watched his eyes as they scanned my body. "You are so beautiful," he told me again, confirming the look I has seen in those eyes. I thought of the time I had seen Sheila, his wife. It was at my husband's Christmas party. She was talking to Joe and I remembered thinking how lovely she looked.

Immediately Tony started to remove his shirt I reached for the clasp on my bra. It was just something I always did when my husband took his shirt off before having sex. Was that what we were going to do; have sex, make love, or just fuck each other just like my husband was fucking his wife right now?

Our eyes held each other's gaze as he undid the belt on his slacks. I heard, rather than saw them fall to the floor, even with the sound of the buckle muffled by the carpet. He straightened up and in one movement wrapped me in his arms. He held my gaze for just a moment longer. Then we kissed.

The next thing I knew I was being laid in the middle of my bed and my panties were being taken off me. I'd never done anything like this, never wanted to. So why was I allowing this man to do this to me? As he joined me on my bed and leaned over me, I knew why. I wanted him to do to me what my husband was doing to his wife.

"You are so beautiful. I want to make love to you, Gillian" he told me.

I reached up to him and pulled his lips down to mine. He knew. Without words, my kiss had told him what I wanted.

He did make love to me. Like I have never been made love to before. It was slow and sensuous, full of words of endearment, kisses, caresses and orgasms. Many, many wonderful orgasms.

Now we were laying close together, our bodies breathless, touching, our hands holding, our eyes showing our bewilderment over what we had done.

It was ten-fifteen. My husband had not returned, and I didn't care. I knew now that I had been deceived for a long time. Probably for nearly a year. I kissed the man beside me. "Thank you," I told him.

He returned my kiss. "I didn't expect this to happen," he replied. "Your beauty just completely overwhelmed me," he added.

"Is that all," I teasingly asked, wondering why I felt so at ease with this man I'd met less than three hours ago and who had just totally ravished me.

"No, definitely not, but it's a good start, don't you think?"

"So, tell me."

He just looked at me and I realised I'd never seen such expressive eyes. then I saw something in those eyes that I hadn't seen in my husband's for a long time. This man loved me.

"Can you wait until you know me a little better," he smiled.

'Yes, I can wait," I told him. It was rather overwhelming really, knowing what I'd seen in his eyes. I remembered my first impression when I opened my door to him. Now I had seen him in the flesh, so to speak I liked what I first saw even more. I judged him to be about my age but that was just speculation. I did know that he had a rather lovely cock and that it was highly skilled.

"I think I should be leaving, don't you?" he suggested.

Reluctantly I agreed but not before we had exchanged all our phone and e-mail details.

My husband returned home just after eleven, claiming a massive hold-up due to a burst water main as the reason for his late return. If that was the real reason then I was grateful for it.

The next morning, as I was putting my undies on for work I caught sight of myself in the wardrobe mirror. As I saw myself I remember what Tony had told me so many times, 'you are so beautiful.' Was I still beautiful? Joe never told me anymore. Standing in front of the mirror I wondered what it was Tony saw that he thought was so beautiful.

I first thing I saw was a woman who had committed adultery. I should have cared, but I didn't, the memory was too pleasant. I also saw a forty-three-year-old woman who still looked good, at least I thought so. I still had a nice face without any real lines and my skin was still smooth. My auburn hair was nicely styled, it should be it cost me enough. I saw a nice smiley mouth with full lips; Joe used to kiss my lips a lot. And my eyes stared back knowingly at me.

Tony was only looking at my face when I opened the door, so was this what he saw when he told me I was beautiful?

Then I looked at my body, slowly lowering my eyes from my face to my adequate breasts, to my stomach with its soft roundness that I had never lost since my second child was born. I certainly had hips and a nice bottom, I admitted as I turned sideways to the mirror and patted it. Not like some of my shapeless friends. Even my legs still looked good. Perhaps all the hockey and running I did all those years ago had paid off.

Yes, not bad for an old woman, I agreed with myself. Was I beautiful? Well, Tony certainly seemed to think so and anyway, I liked the way he said it.

By the end of the week, I knew that Tony was forty-six and had been married for twenty-three years. Like me, his two kids had left home for university. He had a doctorate in chemistry and was the senior chemist in the local chemical plant and probably earnt twice what my husband did.

It was ten days before Joe texted me again with information about another late night. This was much closer to his last late night than any previous ones.

During those ten days, Tony and I had been watching our spouses very closely and we both agreed that there was a serious decline in all aspects of their interaction with us. In my case, Joe never looked at me like he used to, and neither did he do or say anything approaching outward signs of affection. Oh, he fucked me, but not with the frequency I remembered from nine months or a year ago. I say fucked me, it was more like used me to wank himself off.

Why I hadn't seen it, I don't know, perhaps I was just too complacent with myself because now I knew about Shelia Nelson it was all so obvious.

When we discussed it, Tony and I doubted that we would have gone for divorce unless our spouses decided to. We would have tried counselling or just plain working it out. Our one unexpected evening together had changed all that. Now we had a joint incentive and neither his wife nor my husband was going to be part of it.

It was Tony who arranged for a private detective to investigate their activities. Everything he documented would be shared between us and the solicitor we had jointly engaged.

The evening my husband was working late, Tony took me out to dinner. He has chosen a quiet country pub about ten miles out of town. We found a comfortable seat with some privacy and settled down for a nice quiet evening of drinking, eating and intimate conversation.

The first thing I noticed when we had settled down was that look I had seen in Tony's eyes that fateful evening. It was still there and seemed to be glowing even brighter. I reached around his neck and drew him closer.

He stared at me for a moment. "I love you," he stuttered as though afraid to admit it.

"I know," I told him. I wanted to say the same but I was afraid to voice such a profound confession this soon. Instead, I tried to convey my feelings for him with the kiss I gave him.

When the kiss ended and we were almost touching noses, he whispered. "You love me too, don't you, Gillian?" His voice sounded so hopeful.

Was it a statement or a question? Whatever, I nodded and he smiled in acknowledgement of my response. Perhaps the look in my eyes conveyed all he needed to know. There was however so much more that I wanted to know about this handsome man with a beautiful cock, who had suddenly appeared on my doorstep.

We talked about many things. Our past lives, our children, our education, our jobs and our expectations for the future. We touched, we fondled and we kissed. We even fed snippets of food to each other. But we never once mentioned our spouses or their betrayal.

After a month of surveillance, our investigator was ready to give us his report. We met in his office and left an hour later. The report was more damming than either of us expected. I was in tears and I think Tony was finding it hard to hold himself together. The deceit of our spouses had been going on for over a year and they had involved others known to us, to assist in their betrayal.

Without each other, we both knew that we would have been looking at a very bleak future.

Tony followed me home and settled me down with a cup of tea. He had suggested a glass of wine but I wanted a clear head. Not that it was capable of thinking very clearly after listening to our investigator summarise his report about how my husband had been deceiving me for over a year.

How could I have been married to Joe for so long and not know what he was up to with Shelia Nelson? Now I knew everything, even if I wasn't in love with Tony I knew I would never be able to remain married to my husband, however much he begged me.

'In love with Tony.' The words I'd just thought resounded back at me. In love with Tony? Was I ready in love with this man?

I don't know how long Tony had been sitting opposite me, watching me in silence because when I picked my cup up it was cold and empty.

"Would you like another cup of tea?" he asked me.

"No thank you," I replied. "Come here and sit beside me," I told him, placing my hand on my right-hand side.

Tony sat down, almost turning his whole body toward me. I reached for his hands and clasped them in my own. Then I look up into his eyes and held his gaze. Yes, it was still there in his eyes, burning even brighter. It was now or never, I told myself as I took a deep breath.

"I love you, Tony," I told him slowly, sincerely without breaking eye contact.

Neither of us moved for moments, and then I was in his arms and he was holding me so tightly. "Gillian, my Darling," he whispered and I knew I had made the right decision to tell this wonderful man that I loved him.

Three days later, at the same time of the day, our joint solicitor had both our spouses served with divorce papers. Whether they were already making plans to divorce us was never revealed but judging by the vehemence of their response I suspect we just beat them to the post.

My divorce was nasty but Tony's was even nastier and much more expensive. Both of us lost a lot of pride and some friends who took our spouse's side in the matter. Fortunately, all our children remained loyal to us, even after our divorces were settled and we told them how we met and had fallen in love.

I now have a wonderful new husband and four children who have accepted both of us into their lives. Neither of us has spoken about our previous spouses or has any interest in their whereabouts. I know his children visit their mother and we both accept their decision. Neither of my two children has ever spoken to me about their father.

It's been five years since I married Tony and every year has been a joy. Not forgetting his wonderful cock, which has lost none of its magical powers, he often tells me how beautiful I am and the look in his eyes still shows me how much he loves me.

Soon my daughter will be getting married and she has just told me that she wants my husband to escort her down the aisle. I know that event that will be the proudest moment of our lives.