The Restoration Ch. 02

"I'm sorry," I apologized, feeling intense remorse.

"I'm an asshole too," she said softly. "This is all my fault."

She got up and walked off, quickly, heading for the shower.

Now what? I asked myself, wiping my wife's juices off my face. I wanted to jerk off, but Victoria's order not to cum rang in my ears, and I decided I shouldn't.

The rest of the weekend passed in confusion, with Victoria alternating between angry and using me for sex. For the first time in our history together, Victoria had become a selfish lover, climaxing quickly and explosively and not seeming to care if I got off. The sex was always impersonal, with a minimum of talking or emotion. I wouldn't say that I felt she was angry at me, per se; she seemed more to be angry at herself, and taking out her sexual frustrations on the dick she had available. For me, I alternated between being angry and disappointed in myself, and being royally confused.

The following Monday, Ana and I were in her basement, working on insulation, which, thankfully for my libido, meant we had to be fully covered. Ana had on one of Graham's sweaters with a mask and gloves, and she looked as sexless as I'd seen her.

"So, how's the manhunt going?" I asked nonchalantly. We were working in different sections of the basement with pink fiberglass, which meant that we could hear each other, but not see each other.

Ana scoffed. "It's been shit. Still."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"You really wouldn't think it would be that difficult for me." I could hear the frustration in her disembodied voice. "I'm not even thirty yet. I'm not that picky. I'm looking for casual sex just like most of the guys out there. And I think I'm pretty enough."

"You're so pretty," I reassured.

"Thank you. I'm just getting really frustrated."

"Are you still looking for... what are you looking for?" I asked.

"A one-night stand, a friend with benefits, something along those lines. I want to have sex with a guy without strings attached. If he's good at it, I'd keep doing it with him."

"And you can't find anyone meeting your quality control standards?" I pressed.

"Nah."

"I thought you weren't that picky," I pointed out.

She shrugged. "In theory, I'm not. I'm setting a low bar. It's not my fault that these guys are utterly failing to climb over it." Ana came back into view to grab another batt of insulation. "I've been learning a lot about myself, though."

"Oh?"

She sat down on the batt. "If we're talking about something serious, I want to be able to see you."

"Sure."

"This might be too much information, Patrick, but I never really was a sexual person before Graham. My first orgasm was from his fingers. All my sexual fantasies I'd ever had involved him. Until the last year he was alive, I never even looked at other men. I had the man of my dreams already, so what was the point in even thinking about others?"

"I thought you said you were the dirty-minded one when you were younger," I commented.

"I was, but in a bratty eighth-grade way, not for real. I think I was scared of the real thing before I had it. Even without having had the chance to have sex with another guy, I feel like that's changed. I'm really enjoying exploring my own sexuality now, and I've realized just how much I've missed out on focusing on only one man for so long."

"Oh?"

"Do you want details?" she teased.

"Only what you're comfortable sharing."

"I'll tell you anything, I have no shame around you." She winked at me. "I've discovered things about myself that I never knew. I apparently like erotic stories, and apparently under some conditions I can be turned on by women."

"Which conditions might those be?" I asked. I was interested.

"The first time was Victoria in that hot tub. I thought she looked so hot naked, and I knew she was toying with me. No woman had ever toyed with me like that before. It did things to me. Since then, I started exploring, and I discovered that I like lesbian porn. I'd only ever seen hetero porn with Graham before, which I didn't care for. But even though I don't think I'm into girls for real, seeing two women going at it is kind of hot."

"It sure is," I agreed. "I'm glad that the past couple months haven't been a total write-off for you."

"Nah, they've been fine," she responded. "I complain to you because you seem to like listening to me complain. And it's not like I haven't been having orgasms. I've had a ton of them. I just wish it was someone else making me have them."

"Any straight man who'd object to a pretty woman talking about her insatiable libido is an idiot."

Ana giggled. "Yeah, fair enough."

"Help me with this header?" I indicated the gap at the spot where the floor joist met the foundation.

Ana easily lifted up a batt of insulation, opened the package, and helped me lift it into place. Once we'd stuffed it into the header, I grabbed the vapour barrier and started unrolling it. Ana was looking at a spot on her arm, where she had her sleeve rolled up, scratching.

"Did it get you?"

"I think so. Is it normal to itch like this?"

"That's why we wear the long clothes," I said. "You have to rinse the fiberglass strands off your skin. Use cool water, not hot -- the hot will open your pores and make it worse."

"Shit. Okay. This sweater doesn't really fit me, and the sleeve is so loose that it rolled up on me when my arm was over my head." She headed for the laundry tub, removing her mask, gloves and sweater. I set down the vapour barrier to watch -- she had her back to me now, but I could see a black lacy bra from behind as she rinsed her arm.

Finally, she came back to where I was working, still in the bra. It was sheer, and I could see her nipples through the translucent fabric. I tried not to stare.

"I think it's okay now," she said evenly. "The itching is mostly gone."

"Far be it for me to tell you to put some clothes on, but you're not very well-protected right now," I pointed out, trying hard not to stare.

"Yeah, I need to go up and get another sweater." She bit her bottom lip, eying me, as she watched my eyes trace up and down her body.

"God, you're so beautiful," I blurted out, before I could catch myself.

Ana smiled. "Thank you. I love watching you work. There's just something about a man who's good with his hands. It makes a girl daydream about what else they can do."

I beamed inwardly while trying not to let on. "I'd never touch you with insulation hands. I can't think of a worse place to have fiberglass shards."

Ana crossed her legs involuntarily. "Ick. No thank you." She paused for a moment. "You'd have to wash them before I'd let you finger me."

She tossed the sweater in the laundry and disappeared up the stairs as I tried not to think about fingering her. I turned my attention back to the vapour barrier, and in a few minutes, Ana came back down, wearing another sexless coverall.

We finished the job around 3:00, and we surveyed the basement with evident pride.

"That's going to make such a difference," Ana gushed. "It was so cold down here last winter. The entire basement was like cold storage."

"You had no insulation in your headers," I responded. "The cold air got into the gap between the foundation and the brickwork above and flowed straight into the basement. It was sealed in the sense of bugs and rodents, but the cold air moved pretty much without being stopped."

We looked at each other again.

"I'm scared to take these clothes off," Ana said suddenly.

"It's just itching," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but it was awful. I hate mosquito bites. I hate itches."

"No one likes mosquito bites."

"I like them less than most people." Ana glanced at the stairs. "What should I do to minimize the fibers getting on my skin?"

"Take a cool shower. No soap needed until you're fully rinsed off," I answered.

Ana thought for a moment, then she pulled her sweater off, tossing it into the nearby washing machine. She then did the same with her work pants. Suddenly my neighbour was standing before me in lacy bra and panties, looking sexy as hell.

My eyes must have widened, because Ana deflected. "You've already seen me in a bikini, and naked for that matter. It's no big deal."

"I suppose."

"I'm going for a cool shower, like you recommended."

I nodded.

"Do you want to come?" she suddenly blurted.

"I do, but... I don't have a change of clothes here."

She pursed her lips. "Pity. How long until Victoria gets home?"

I checked my watch. "About two hours."

"You can borrow something of Graham's to get home if you want to," she offered.

"That feels suspiciously like it might lead to cheating on my wife," I said matter-of-factly. In that moment I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Ana's eyes narrowed. "Did she not tell you about our conversation?"

What?

"...She didn't," I finally sputtered.

"I'm surprised. We hung out recently, and Victoria, you know you can't lie to her."

"I definitely do."

Ana looked at me suspiciously, like she had suddenly realized she was in the middle of something that wasn't what she thought it was. "She told me that she can tell we're both into each other, and she's fine with us messing around a little. I'm not allowed to go any farther with you than we did at Tremblant, but she's fine as long as that line isn't crossed."

"Victoria said that?!" I asked, incredulous.

"I'm sorry, Patrick. I obviously assumed you knew." Ana had gone from looking smouldering to looking uncomfortable.

You could have knocked me over with a feather. Just what the hell was my wife up to behind my back? It occurred to me that Ana might be lying, but if she was, then it would have made no sense to set ground rules -- she would have had no reason not to just fuck me.

"So, the window voyeur show? Obviously, I could tell you planned that, but..."

"We were all masturbating in that hot tub," Ana said defensively. "No further than Tremblant."

"The kiss?"

"That happened before I talked to Victoria. I admit that I shouldn't have kissed you. There's a reason I haven't done it again."

"I think I have some things to sort out with my wife," I said. "Thanks for the offer, and maybe I'll take you up on it sometime, but I think I should go home and figure out what's going on."

Ana nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'm sorry if it seems like I've been coming on to you a little strong. I just... well, I assumed you knew."

I followed Ana up the basement stairs, discovering to my great pleasure that she had thong underwear on, and then headed home. I hopped in a cool shower to get the fibreglass shards off my body, feeling confused and angry.

Two hours later, Victoria arrived back home from work. I was determined not to bite her head off immediately, and to let her speak, but this was getting sorted out tonight, her feelings be damned.

I kept a lid on things until after dinner, then, as we were washing dishes together, I started.

"Did you tell Ana anything about us hanging out together before you left to go up north?" I began evenly.

Victoria turned to face me, a guilty look on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard a story from Ana today that I had trouble believing," I continued, barely keeping a lid on my anger. "Based upon what she told me, I'm seriously wondering what's going on in this marriage. I need to know what you told her."

"You're going to be mad at me," Victoria said quietly.

"I already am mad at you," I seethed. "So why don't you tell me the truth about what's going on, and we'll go from there."

Victoria started crying, and it took everything I had not to start comforting her. I was angry, but she was still my wife, and I still loved her.

Finally, she looked at me. "I told her that you and she were free to do anything up to and including what happened in that cabin, if you wanted to."

"She said the same thing," I said, a little louder than I intended to. "My question is, why?! And why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

"Not fucking good enough."

We stared each other down for a moment.

"Why are you trying to make me have an affair? Why do you want that?" I finally demanded.

"I don't want you to!"

"Are you trying to cover for you having had one?"

Victoria looked shocked, like she hadn't considered the possibility. "No! I've never cheated on you."

"Do you want an open relationship?" I continued.

"Not really, no," she sobbed.

"Then what is it?"

Victoria slumped down, sitting on the floor, her face still streaked with tears. She took a deep breath. "Please don't think I'm a pervert."

I looked at her, surprised. "I don't."

"When I think about you and Ana... together." She choked on the words. "It turns me on. Since that night at Tremblant. I can't stop picturing her riding on top of you or sucking your dick. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Is that's what's behind your out-of-control libido lately?" I asked.

She nodded shamefully, unable to look at me.

"So..." I was still processing it. "I'm not saying I want this, but if that's what's behind it, why not tell me? Why not explore this with me? If you discover a new kink, then we're supposed to have each other's backs in exploring it. If you don't want it for real, then it's a harmless fantasy, and Ana never has to know. If you do want it for real, why not tell your husband what he is and isn't allowed to do? Why run around behind my back, setting up traps for me to cheat on you? What would you have done if I had slept with her? I didn't know there were rules!"

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"You... don't know," I repeated.

"What kind of a wife would I be telling my husband that he can go sleep with someone else?" she asked.

"What kind of a wife are you sneaking around behind my back, trying to get me to cheat on you?" I responded.

Victoria sat, ashen-faced. "I can't answer that," she finally answered.

"...You can't?"

"How could I have given you permission?"

"How could it have been better if I'd cheated, versus doing it with your permission?" I was really upset now.

"Patrick..."

"You've got five seconds to come up with a really good explanation, or I'm walking out," I threatened.

Victoria looked at me, crying, nearly hysterical. "I don't have one. Please don't go."

"I need time to process this. I'll come back. But I need to go think about this and be alone."

Ignoring my wife's pleas, I went out to my car, started the engine, and drove off. I hadn't had any ideas in mind of where I might go, so I just drove off into the evening, still simmering with anger. Once I left the city, heading south, I realized I was driving in the direction of Lake Erie, so I aimed the car towards Long Point, a provincial park jutting out into the lake which I'd never been to before but always had meant to go to.

An hour later, the sun had gone down, and I pulled up at Long Point. It was still too early in the season for the park to be open, but I walked a sandy path down the dunes to the lakeshore. It was cold and windy on the water. I knew it was likely there was still ice offshore, though I couldn't see any in the dark. I was the only soul around. I sat down in the sand, staring out at the dark water, contemplating.

My phone rang, suddenly. I looked down and saw it was Victoria calling, and I decided to pick up.

"Hello?"

"You can hate me if you need to, but I wanted to tell you that I figured out the answer to your question." Victoria's voice sounded broken and soft.

"You know I don't hate you. What is it?"

She paused for a long time. I could hear her breathing over the phone.

"Do you remember when we were first dating, we had that long, deep conversation on the patio at the Tilting Windmill?" she finally began.

"Vaguely," I remembered.

"Do you remember what you told me that night?"

I thought back, but I had no idea what she was referring to. "No."

"You really don't remember?

I searched my mind. "I'm sorry, I'm at a loss."

"It was right after I took your virginity," Victoria began. "You were on a high from finally having sex, and you told me, in such a casual way, that you weren't sure that you'd ever get married without sleeping with someone else. I was your first, I took your virginity, and you wanted to see what it was like fucking someone else before you settled down."

"I never said that. Did I say that?"

"You did."

"God. I'm sorry. I have no idea why I said that." I suddenly felt terrible.

"I know why you said it," she said empathetically. "It's because you only get one life. You only get eighty years on this planet, give or take. Graham only got twenty-eight years. Sex is such a huge part of being human, and it really is different with different people. Some people you have an incredible connection with, and some people you don't. Some people are giving, caring lovers and some people are selfish. Some people fuck slow and romantically, and some people fuck like it's a cardio workout. And you've only ever had me, whereas I've had lots of men."

"The notches on your bedpost don't bother me. I liked that you knew what you were doing in bed enough from experience to teach me. I was inexperienced enough for both of us." I wracked my brain, thinking, trying to remember saying what had clearly bothered my wife for so long. I tried to put myself back in the mindset of the insecure kid I once had been.

"I think I can remember being a little jealous of your experience," I finally remembered. "Not in a slut-shaming way; that never bothered me. But I definitely felt sometimes like I had found the woman who was perfect for me a little too early on in life. I wished I'd had a couple of years to fool around like you did. At the time I met you, I liked that you had experience, and I liked that you weren't shy about showing me what you liked. If I'm a good lover today, it's because you had the experience to show me how to be one.

"But after we'd had sex and I no longer felt quite so inexperienced, I think I wanted to see what it was like sleeping with another woman. Sex was a novelty back then, and so was having a girlfriend. Then, I grew up. I haven't felt like that in ages. I would never have proposed to you if I wasn't completely satisfied with this relationship. I would never have stayed faithful. I love you. I married you for a reason. For many, many reasons."

"I love you too," she said, her voice tinged with emotion. "But the biggest reason I didn't slap you that night or call you out on it in all the years since, is because deep down, I got it. I understood. I wouldn't have been okay with only sleeping with you for my entire life any more than you would have been okay sleeping with just me. I needed to get the experience I got before I married you, because I knew that you were as good as it got. How would you ever know if I was as good as it got?"

"I believe that you are, and that's good enough for me."

"Being a college slut for a couple years was a formative part of my life, and I married you because I've tried the competition. I knew you were a kind, caring, loving, wonderful man, a strong and stable husband, and you fuck like a champion. I've never met anyone else who checks all those boxes. A woman couldn't ask for more.

"But I wouldn't have married you without having that experience in my back pocket. So, I couldn't be mad at you for wanting something that I'd had, and that mattered to me so much. I always believed you'd someday want to sleep with another woman, and although I hated myself for understanding why, I understood why."

I thought about this for a minute. "I'm not the same person I was when I was twenty," I began. "It doesn't bother me anymore that I've never been with anyone else. I admit that it did once, but I got over it. I don't need to try something worse to know I've got the best thing for me that I can get."