The Secret Fetish Pt. 05

I had barely opened the door to the house when a loud voice rang out yelling, "What the Hell is this?" Mary stood there with my journal in hand, her eyebrows stitched together, eyes swimming in tears, and cheeks red in anger. I'd never seen her so angry. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that my play with the journal had not gone as forecast.

"What do you mean?" I said stupidly, trying to figure out how much she knew before I fell in too deep.

"C'mon Jim. People don't lie in their journals. You've been lusting over big, brawny, she-men all these years. You tell me."

I ignored her slight on my taste in strong women and considered my options. My only defense seemed to lay in feigning anger for invading my private diary. "It's my diary, how could you," I said, putting as much hurt into my voice as I could muster.

Her response was devastating. "Don't give me that. It's like you invited me to read it, putting it next to our planner on your desk unlocked with the page marked."

"But..."

"But what? I think the fact that you left it so available makes it even worse. It's as if you wanted me to read it because my body doesn't please you anymore so I could change for you."

"No," I protested knowing that her words were spot on but denying it, nonetheless.

"I guess you're right," she said, momentarily relieving my panic before twisting the knife. "You never liked my body. You wanted some roided-out freak who would throw you around the bedroom like some kind of masochist. I feel like I've been lied to all these years."

"I'm sorry. I have a right to keep some secrets in a marriage, don't I?"

"Sure, but not when the whole relationship is based on a lie."

"It's not a lie. You know I like your body. You know I get turned on."

"Yeah, by what, imagining long ass clits and nude muscular women when you're thrusting inside of me?" My ears started throbbing and my cheeks heated what had to be an almost purplish hue. Had I left a search history up that wasn't private? My breaths started coming in short, measured bursts as I bordered on panic.

"Muscular women clits," she said, turning the figurative knife one last time. Fuck!

"I think I know it all, but I want to hear you say it. Tell me your secret Jim... all of it. Don't you dare lie to me after all these years! Tell me what the woman of your dreams looks like.

I hesitated and gulped. Would telling Mary prove to be a cathartic cleanse after all of these years or the end of a relationship with the woman I loved? Perhaps, I suspected, it would be both. After holding my secret tightly to my vest for so long, I decided to go down in flames by telling the truth.

"Okay, you're right. I want to start by saying that I do find you attractive and a turn-on," She started to shake her head and speak but I cut her off. "I'm telling you the truth about my secret after all these years of embarrassment so please don't doubt me. To say this isn't easy is an understatement." God, what was I thinking with that journal ploy?

"Okay," she breathed, relenting and letting me continue.

"But I'm sorry I'm totally embarrassed to say this, but yeah, I like really strong women."

She crossed her arms in disappointment. "C'mon, you owe me the whole truth. Stronger than you? That's what you said. Tell me everything or I'm walking out!"

My shoulders slumped, a deep sigh escaped me, and then, fighting back tears, I just let it all out. "Yes, stronger than me and I like them big too. And yes, I'll be honest...I find a long clit attractive. It's not that I'm gay--- though there's nothing wrong with that. I'm just attracted to, I don't know if I had to say, masculine-looking women. Women who are stronger and bigger than me. But it's just a fantasy, nothing I expect in the real world."

Is that it?"

"Yes." I ground my teeth in worry waiting to see what she would do next. She thinks you're a freak. How could you let her find out? You're a pervert, a deviant.

She cocked her head in confusion. "I just don't get it. What is it about the muscle? I mean, it doesn't make sense."

"I don't know." A quick glare from Mary ended my lies. "I guess it's the fact that women have to work so hard to get the muscle. The tissue is so hard and angular in contrast to the smooth soft skin. Maybe it's something about it being so opposite."

"And?" she asked, coaxing out the rest.

"The idea that a woman could be so strong when by nature they're not supposed to be is a bit humbling and a turn-on. I mean I've seen a woman lift a car. Somehow the idea is just chilling." I stopped right as I was going to really get into it. The idea that she'd throw me against the bed, hold me down, and belittle me for being the weak one. Mmm. I could be strong, but she would be superhumanly strong. My eyes momentarily went glassy as my mind ran away with the idea, but I refocused on Mary who I seemed to catch thinking deeply about the situation.

"Okay, thanks for at least telling me the truth. Sleep on the couch tonight. I think I need some time to process this." And with that, she walked out. I sagged into the couch and tucked myself into the fetal position in shame. While she didn't bring it up again for quite some time, our relationship changed drastically that day, and initially not for the better.