The End of Something

She paused, like she was trying to think of the right words, "But I discovered something in myself. For a short while I was literally two different people. There was the core person who had all of my old perspective and values. She hadn't changed. But there was this new evil add-on who did naughty things for her own selfish pleasure. I kept telling myself - one more time and Jake will never know."

She looked me in the eye like she was willing me to believe her and said in the softest voice, "I went back one more time. And that time it was agonizing."

She grimaced and continued with, "Reality held a mirror up to my face. And I saw what I had become and how close I was to losing everything. It was like waking up from a nightmare. So I broke it off with him in no uncertain terms.

She looked humiliated, "Of course he kept calling me and pestering me. And I couldn't make too big a fuss because I didn't want to draw attention to what I had done. He knew I was trapped and he kept hammering at me. I eventually got to a point where I hated him so much I actually considered killing him. He DID call me the night that you asked about and he called a few days ago. I assume that is when you found out."

She stopped and stared off into space like she was thinking about how to best sum up her case. Then she said with fervent earnestness, "I have no excuses. I was selfish and deluded. I hurt the person I love for a small amount of animal gratification. I don't know what to say beyond telling you that I am mortified by my behavior and a much wiser person as a result of my irresponsible acts. I would never lower myself to something like that again. My self-respect is too important to me. Please, please give me a chance to make it up to you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to rebuild your trust in me"

I almost wavered. Conflicting emotions washed over me as I looked at my love's pathetic face. She was everything to me. And I believed her story. I really believed her. But things had gone too far to turn back now. I was committed to my course of action. Even though I loved her with all my heart.

I said roughly, "That is all well-and-good Sasha but you did the crime. And even though you promise that it will never happen again - and I might add that I believe you - we will BOTH have to do the time."

I said with deep regret in my voice, "The simple fact is that my feelings for you have changed. I have no sense of connection with you anymore. You killed it."

She reacted like I had slapped her.

Then I hesitated. It was excruciating taking this final step. I looked at her as lovingly as I could and said, "I am going to totally separate my life from yours. I decided to take a position at Oxford. I am leaving Friday. I will stay on the boat in the meantime. Do not try to contact me. I will simply ignore all attempts to discuss this."

I added, "I am not divorcing you. You can initiate it if you want. But I just want to get away from here as fast as I can. You were my one and only love and I just can't stand the daily reminder that even being in the same city would give me. You are a beautiful woman and I am sure you will replace me sooner than later. When you do I won't fight it."

I rose from the table and said, "I am leaving here with the clothes in that bag." And I gestured toward the seaman's bag next to the door. "I have divided our savings and checking equally even though I contributed most of it. So you will be well taken care of."

I teared up as I said, "I love you my darling girl. That will never change. Maybe we can try to rebuild some kind of connection from 3,600 miles away. You have always been my best friend and perhaps we can at least get that back. That is all I can offer you."

With that I turned and walked to the door. Sasha's loud sobs filled the room. It broke my heart. I picked up the bag and walked out on the porch. Then I gently pulled the door closed on the happiest moments of my life

Interlude: Sasha's Story

The closing of that door nearly ended me. No other human being has connected with my inner self like Jake has. And now he was gone. I was completely hollow - adrift and hopeless.

I am a person who is happiest and most comfortable living in my head. I love the world of ideas and I get really antsy if I don't have intellectual challenges. I had never known anybody who was like me until I met Jake. That's why I fell head-over-heels in love with him.

My girlhood was the happiest time of my life. Sure - people were always telling me that I was beautiful. But that didn't mean anything to me then. I was a kid, with a kid's perspective and a kid's needs. I had my books and my dance. Even school was fun. I loved to explore ideas and learn. It was a golden age.

But then puberty hit and life became a whole lot darker and more complicated.

There was this inexplicable and overwhelming force in my chest and lower belly. It was like some evil spell. It drove me to do things that I absolutely hated. But I was compelled to do them.

I never had any interest in how I looked. Then overnight I swapped personalities. I traded the beauty of the ballet for prancing around in front of crowds in a very short skirt leading cheers. And all I could think about was how to dress in ways that made me more attractive to boys.

Then I discovered - to my horror - an even more disturbing aspect of my nature. As I progressed through my teenage years I became obsessed by sex. It was a deep-seated compulsion that I couldn't explain. But it ruled me.

The one thing that I knew for sure was that I had to control my urges. Because nothing good happens to a girl with my kind of outrageous needs. The problem was that I couldn't talk about it with anybody.

Asking my parents to advise me about ways to overcome my overwhelming desire for cock would have gotten me locked in a convent.

And if I talked about it with my girlfriends I might has well have hung a scarlet "A" on my rapidly expanding chest. They might be having the same dreadful experience - I never really found out. But I DID know that revealing any kind of weakness to THAT coven of jealous bitches would get me torn to shreds.

Of course the boy population didn't have the same issues. They talked about it constantly. Nonetheless, I was certain that if I told any of them about my irresistible desire for sex it would get me raped, not intellectual closure.

I held out until almost my 19th birthday through circumstance and sheer force of will. And then I gave it up to the one kid in school who I had a basic understanding with. He was a member of the chess-club - not the captain of the football team. And he was flabbergasted when Sasha Averina handed him her cherry.

But I had a sympatico with him that I didn't have with the Neanderthals who usually asked me out. We both shed the curse of virginity at the same time. It was actually a sweet moment. It was beautiful summer day and we were lying on a blanket in a little field of wildflowers up near Diamond Head.

We were making out and I just thought, "Why Not!" He lasted all of a minute. But what a fabulous sixty seconds they were! Then we talked about it for hours. That is what intellectuals do - we have to understand watershed events in our life.

That summer I learned that sex wasn't anything to be feared. Instead, the profound feelings and sensations were a gift. And my many subsequent bouts with that boy helped me to see that my wild passions were not a bad thing. They were just who I was. I simply had to learn to channel and control them in the same constructive way that I controlled my body during my gymnastics competitions.

Nevertheless, I was constantly aware that my intense sexuality was lurking there like a predator waiting to pounce. My need for sex was the reason why I kept a steady boyfriend through my college years. A girl who is frequently fucking her boyfriend - and nobody else - is viewed in a much different light than one who has the same amount of sex with a lot of different guys.

My boyfriends were college kids. And they were ALL as randy as monkeys. But I still couldn't keep a man for very long. I just wore them out. I was beginning to get concerned that I might be too much of a nympho to ever get married. Then I met Jake.

I was sitting in one of those lame study sessions when Jake joined our group. I was fucking a particularly good looking former football player in the group. I didn't care about his gridiron accomplishments. But athletes have more stamina than regular guys and I needed that.

I took one look at Jake and it was like he had just walked out of the Pearly Gates. He was the tallest man that I had ever been attracted to. I normally like them proportional to my five-five height. And rather than being muscular he was some odd kind of lean with overdeveloped shoulders and a long but muscular neck. I had constant sweaty dreams about wrapping my arms around that neck while he fucked me.

I learned later that he was a competitive swimmer as an undergraduate, which explained the musculature. But the feature that struck me the most were those deep, dark, profound eyes. Every time he looked at me they lit up my very soul.

He had thick unruly dark brown hair that kept falling over his high forehead and a long face with high cheekbones and a long nose. His mouth look delectably kissable. I spent most of our study sessions writing "Mrs. Sasha Schneider" in my notebook like some pubescent teeny-bopper.

He always hung on the periphery of the group. But when we were actually involved in the give-and-take it was just him and me. Needless to say he challenged me and pushed me constantly. And he stimulated me in ways that I had never experienced before.

He was the smartest man I had ever known. And I learned what it is like to be able to share my mind - not just my body - with another person.

I tried everything that I could think of to get his attention - short of passing him a note offering to blow him. But nothing worked. Then one day we got into our normal situation with the group. Jake and I had just soared across the intellectual landscape from A to Z - only to find that the rest of the herd had managed to trudge from A to B.

Rolling that rock up the hill was getting excruciating so I looked at him and said, "Let's get a beer."

As soon as we sat down I threw myself at him. I was worried I might be rejected outright. He must have a hundred women beating his door down. But I couldn't stand the game of cat and mouse any longer.

Instead of taking me up on my offer. He went through a list of reasons why we couldn't be together. It pissed me off since they were all just rationalizations. If he wanted to tell me to get lost he should just say it. I finally talked him into sampling the goods and we went back to his place.

I was planning on turning him into my love slave - like I have every other man. But that didn't happen. It was uncanny really. The minute we started kissing the slow burning fire that is always in my lady parts exploded into white heat and I went absolutely nuts.

The next several hours were just an erotic blur. I DO remember that there was a lot of writhing, scratching, loud cries of fuck-me along with the orgasms. Better yet, when I came back from the 17th dimension - or wherever he had blown me - I was fully and completely satisfied.

I had never felt that way in my extensive sexual history. And the languid feeling of utter fulfilment that I had - while I was reclining spread-eagled, with the morning sun streaming through the windows - was just the beginning.

He had cooked me breakfast and he delivered it as I lay there in bed. Jake was so perfect that it frightened me. He was my equal in every way and he was the only person in the world who could keep the ferocious tiger of my sexuality purring like a kitty-cat. It was a gross understatement to say that I loved him. He was my entire existence.

Of course every Garden of Eden requires a snake. My reptile was named Tom. He was the prototype of every guy I had ever fucked - prior to Jake of course - small compact body, Ralph Lauren model good looks, very rich, an extremely successful lawyer and a real Romeo.

Women can tell when they have a guy hooked. And I knew that he wanted me from the minute he laid eyes on me. It was actually quite ego-inflating. I could enjoy his attentions without any real connection. And that was the way I conducted our day-to-day business.

I am sure that packs of hot little coeds flirt with Jake. However, it takes despicable morals to actually cross the line. Unfortunately for me his guy LIVED on the other side of the line. So, for hours a day I was subjected to accidental touches and generally stimulating moments of oh-so-close interaction. I probably should have just blown up and had it out with him. But I was brought up to believe that confrontations in the workplace were uncivilized.

Then it happened. We had been together for ten hours that day. And he had been artfully jacking up my arousal with little bumps, strokes and intimate invasions of my personal space. I was trying to steer clear of him. But at the same time he was turning me on.

I had some papers in my hand and I was trying to decide what to do with them when he walked up behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck and something big poking me directly between my butt cheeks. I gasped. Then as I turned around to tell him to back-off he grabbed me in a lover's embrace and tried to jam his tongue down my throat.

It was such an outrageous attack that I responded without thinking - kissing back is a reflex reaction for sexually experienced women.

As I did that he slipped his hand up to cup my left tit, found my very erect nipple and tweaked it - hard!! And THAT let the beast out. I don't know about other women. But once I cross my threshold of arousal my lizard brain takes total control. I am conscious but not rational. The phrase, "like a dream" is so clichéd but that's the way I feel.

The sensation was exquisite. I gave a loud moan and dragged him down on top of me right there in the middle of our office floor. He ripped my blouse open, pushed up my bra and began sucking my nipples. My nipples are very sensitive. So his stimulating them lit a fire that must have been visible in Philadelphia.

For the first time in a dozen years I felt a cock that wasn't my husband's slide into me. And I totally abandoned myself. I threw him on his back and proceeded to ravish him like the Vandals sacking Rome. I was completely out of control yelling and moaning and slamming into him so hard that the wet slapping noises sounded exactly like clapping.

Then I came. And it was an off the charts orgasm. I ground it out on his cock with my head thrown back, mouth wide open making inarticulate noises, my hands were clutching his shirt and my pussy was milking him like a berserk Iowa farm hand. He came at that point and the warm spurt set me off on another wild orgasm.

I awoke lying on top of him. He had been so thoroughly fucked that I don't think he even noticed that I was there. Then the guilt hit me and it nearly stopped my heart. I HAD CHEATED!!

Sasha Schneider died in that instant. I rolled off him and lay there face down kicking and pounding the floor and crying hysterically. I think my extreme anguish frightened him because the cowardly prick left me there wailing my heartache into a Willard Hotel carpet.

I am not a perfect person. In fact I do a lot of bad things. But those were misdemeanors compared to the sin I had just committed. I wasn't fooling myself. I was a cheater. My betrayal had come out of the blue. I hadn't sought, or expected it. And it certainly wasn't planned. All the same, I felt like my life had ended.

One minute, I was somebody I could feel good about. Then - thirty minutes later I was an entirely different person. Sasha Schneider loyal and devoted wife had been replaced by a whore. I cringed in disgust as I thought, "Maybe that's ALL you are now?" The guilt was crushing my soul.

There was a bathroom in the suite. I showered and put myself back together. I keep a few things in there for work and so I put some makeup back on and tried to straighten out my clothes. I didn't look like I had just been royally fucked. But I was totally empty inside. My comfortable sense of self-assurance had evaporated the minute I spread my legs.

Jake was asleep when I got home. I half expected him to jump to his feet and denounce me like some Old Testament prophet. But he just lay there snoring. I crept into bed and snuggled up next to him. He put his arms around me and we spooned. It was balm for my wretched soul.

The next morning was like every other day. I was sure I was radiating sin and corruption but he just treated me like he always had - loving and as funny as ever. I went to work confused. Why had he not sensed the heinous sin I had committed?

My partner in crime was as tender and loving as Pepe Le Peu. The smirks and winks and double entendres were disgusting. I absolutely hated him and I vowed to never come near him again.

Of course I stuck to that pledge as faithfully as the one that that I had made to Jake on our wedding day - thanks to my traitorous sexual nature.

It was a little over a week when he managed to engineer the same situation. I had gotten past my initial bout of misery. It appeared that my misstep was indeed just one of those things. And perhaps the end of the world was not at hand.

Naturally, the Gods laugh at the effrontery of mere mortals.

I was cleaning up when he came at me again. This time I tried to take his head off with a stapler. But I missed and he managed to pin my arms to my sides while he quickly slipped a hand down the front of my skirt - directly into my slit. My clitoris is very sensitive and he only had to twiddle it a few times before I totally lost my mind.

The feeling was so intense that I screamed. And the predator that is always lurking out there jumped claws first into my brain. The asshole walked me backward to the bed all the while frantically fingering me. I heard myself moaning and gasping and begging him for his cock.

He ripped my thong off and dove face first into what must have been a swamp - since I was aroused like I have never been before. Needless to say I wasn't thinking big-picture after that. All I could think of was how good it felt. And the predator demanded its satisfaction.

We fucked in every position except hanging by our heels. It went on for hours. I must have had 300 orgasms. As soon as he came I would bring him back to life with my mouth and we would be off to the races again. I was still wanting more when it became apparent that he couldn't provide it. So I finished myself with my fingers - while he dressed and slunk out.

Like the first time, I went through the same five stages; Denial - this isn't happening; Anger - he raped me; Bargaining - I'll never do it again; Depression - my life is over; and Acceptance - I'm such a debased slut!!

By the time I got home I was no longer Jacob Schneider's wife. I was just some nameless skank who cheats on her husband. My pride and dignity were totally out the window. I had completely lost track of long-term consequences. I was living strictly in the moment.

So why DID it happen? Well, the first two times could be chalked up to malicious circumstance. The bastard wanted me and he did all of the right things to get me. I think he succeeded because of my two greatest weaknesses. I always overestimate my ability to control men. And I am such an oversexed bitch that I get caught up in the moment.

My fucking the bastard two times afterward was just me adjusting to my new reality. I knew that I had done the one thing that would hurt the man I loved. And I knew that if he found out it would spell the death of our marriage. I had betrayed him and our values. And there was no way of walking THAT back. I also piled on a ton of self-loathing and shame. So I was at rock bottom in terms of my self-esteem.