Unwanted Memories

We watched TV together for a little while, not quite snuggled up on the couch, but close enough to touch if we wanted. And we did. Just little, light touches and small intimacies: we held hands like teenagers on our first date; she patted my knee as she got up to get us drinks; she came back and leaned over as she handed mine to me, lingering just a little longer than she needed to. I'd catch her watching me out of the corner of my eye, and vice versa; we both smiled shyly and looked away. Things had changed, but neither of us was sure exactly how or how much, so we were being coy.

I yawned and stretched; it wasn't the old standard where I tried to put my arm around her, just a general tiredness. "I think I need to head to bed. It's been a long week."

Her disappointment was evident; I think she was hoping that I had been going for the old yawn and reach. But she smiled as she said, "Yeah, I think that's a good idea." She offered her hand to me, and I pulled her off the couch. She hugged me, a nice, warm hug, then walked with me to the stairs, where we parted ways: her to our bedroom upstairs, me to the guest room downstairs.

I got ready for bed, brushing my teeth in the bathroom next door and laying out my clothes for the next day. I was about to change into sweats and a fresh t-shirt, my usual bedtime attire, when Beth knocked at my door. "John?"

I opened it, and she was standing there in my tattered black t-shirt and a pair of comfortable panties. Her hair was done in a loose braid to keep it from tangling in her sleep and she'd washed her makeup off. She couldn't have looked any sexier than she did right now; this unguarded, completely honest version of her was everything I wanted. I could feel my mouth getting dry, so I swallowed and said with a smile, "Hey, Beth. Did you need something?"

She looked down for a moment, then up into my face. Uncertain. "I... " Resolved. "You. I need you." She chuckled. "I was going to try to do this cute thing where I came to ask you for your shirt, and then when you gave me yours, I'd take mine off, and... " She shook her head. "I don't want to play any more games. I want-- "

I took her into my arms and kissed her with an intensity and hunger that I'd restrained for months. The part of me that said maybe we could never be equals again, that we'd always have that wall between us? I didn't give a fuck. I was going to burst through that, we were going to burst through that, smash our way through whatever obstacles we had to to find a happy ending for us. I was tired of Beth simultaneously being both my wife and not my wife, and it was time to tell Schrodinger to butt the fuck out of our lives.

She moaned into my mouth, and I felt her tongue slip inside. Her hands roamed across my body as I crushed her to me, finally settling on my belt, frantically trying to unbuckle it. My mouth broke from hers in a gasp as she succeeded and slipped her hand into my trousers, not even bothering with the buttons and zipper, grasping at my dick. "Oh god, John, I'm-- " She buried her face in my neck, nuzzling. "It's-- fuck, you're so hard. I'm such a tease, I'm sorry, I-- "

My voice growled, "No." She looked up at me. "No guilt. No worrying. Just us."

A tiny nod, then a sly grin. "Just us." She sank to her knees in front of me.

"Just you.. " She undid my button and zipper and planted a kiss on my raging erection, our skin separated only by the thin fabric of my briefs.

"And me..." Her eyes were on mine as she rocked back on her heels. Taking the hem of her "nightdress" in her hands, she slowly pulled it over her head, teasing me with the curves of her body. There were scars there now, the remnants of the wreck that had left us here, but her beauty was still flawless in my eyes.

As the shirt passed up and over her round, large breasts, they were drawn up in the fabric, then dropped, bouncing tantalizingly. The pink nipples were hard and long, and I reached down to roll one between my fingers, pulling gently at it as she tossed the shirt aside. With a smile, she closed her eyes and purred. Then they were open again, a wildfire behind them.

"And this..." She pulled down my pants and briefs, then hissed with a sharp intake of breath. "This-- this... god, this beautiful fucking dick." She took me into her hand, wrapping her fingers around my shaft and slowly starting to stroke. With a chuckle, she said, "I don't know how I could ever have forgotten this," then leaned forward to take the head in her mouth.

It took everything I could not to cum as she started to suck. It had been so long, and even if I'd staved off the urges by myself, there was no substitute for the real thing. She released me from her mouth with an audible pop and started to stroke my cock with long, smooth strokes, bringing her other hand up to gently caress my sac. "It's okay, John. Cum. Cum as soon as you want. You don't need to hold back. I want to..." She kissed the head again. "I want you to cum for me. I need it. I need to make you feel good. Need to know that I can make you feel good, the way your wife should."

My breath caught in my throat. "What?"

She leaned into me, rubbing my dick along her cheek as she looked up into my eyes. "Your wife, John. We'll figure everything else out later, but-- but, I'm going to be your wife. I'll be--" She kissed my shaft, eyes closing for just a moment in an expression of reverence. "I'll be everything for you: your wife, your lover, your slut, your best friend. Everything." Pulling away again, she moved both hands to my cock, stroking faster, rubbing precum along the head and shaft as she did.

I moaned; she had told me not to hold back, but it was so exquisite that I didn't want it to end yet. This was... this was not Liz. Liz had been so vanilla; not frigid, at least not at the beginning of our marriage. Passionate in her own way, but definitely a "lady." Beth was... Beth was... "Oh, fuck, Beth. Fuck, I'm-- " She took me into her mouth, as much as she could, then further, taking me deep into her throat .My hands tangled in her hair, and I groaned her name as I came harder than than I had in years.

I was shaking as she pulled my cock from her mouth. Beth kissed it lovingly, licking at the little bits of spend that dribbled from it. As I twitched, she laughed with delight. I gasped, "Where-- where did you learn--?"

Her brows knit together. "I-- what do you mean? Isn't... isn't this-- isn't this what we--?" I could see her confidence begin to waver.

Pulling her to her feet, I growled. "No." I kissed her fiercely, tasting faintly myself on her lips. "Better. So fucking good, Beth." I kissed her again and felt her melt. My fingers tugged her panties loose then off, nearly tearing them in my passion to see her naked. In the back of my head, there was a nagging concern, but I wasn't going to fuck this up. We had a fresh chance at us, and I was going to grab hold of it with both hands.

My voice commanded, "Get on the bed. It's your turn." Any trepidation vanished from her face as she moved past me into the room, out of the doorway where she'd just given me the best blowjob I'd ever had. She grabbed my hand, pulling me along, before she stopped at the bed and gave me a teasing grin. She opened her mouth to speak and I simply said. "Now." She was both cowed and visibly aroused as I took charge.

Her taut, athletic ass taunted me as she crawled onto the bed. I could see her getting ready to turn around, to lie down. No. Something new for me meant something new for her. I seized her hips in my hands and shoved my face against her wet pussy, the thick, unkempt bush tickling at my chin. She gasped loudly, the unexpected sensation causing her to lose her balance. Her arms went out from under her. She was face down, ass up, kneeling prone on the edge of the bed as my tongue lavished attention on her sweet quim.

Soft little mewling noises tried to escape her mouth but were lost in the mattress that her face was pressed into. I pulled back for just a moment to suck at my thumb before returning to worshiping my wife's sweet, sopping cunt. Beth gasped as my thumb slid between her cheeks and teased at her puckered starfish. Her head turned to one side to take in gasps of air, and then, quietly, to plead.

I pressed my thumb into her, and she let out a long, shuddering moan. Her hands found her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, signaling her desire. I pressed it all the way in and she pushed up and back against me. My tongue kept at her slick hole, but it wasn't the focus anymore. No, her focus and mine were both on her other tight hole, the one Liz had only given to me on special occasions. The one that Beth was wordlessly begging me to stretch.

I obliged her. My left thumb, slicked with her copious juices, joined the right, and she groaned, "Yessss John. Fuck-- fucking-- oh, god, fucking open me up!" Both thumbs worked together, pulling at that elastic ring, teasing it, stimulating the sensitive nerve endings. I felt the familiar flutters in her body, the harbinger of a truly massive orgasm. My mouth left her for just a moment. "Cum for me, Beth. Show me how fucking sexy my wife is, you gorgeous fucking slut." The words were barely out of my mouth when she pressed her cunt back to it and shuddered, howling my name. "Jooohn! Fuck-- fucking-- ah John, fucking love you!"

Her words were too much for me. Love. She loved me. This was my woman. This was my wife. She was going to see what that meant.

The orgasm was still making her body shake as I stood up and turned her over onto her back. "Say it again."

Her eyes, unfocused and half opened, tried to lock onto mine. "F-fucking..." She shook her head. "Love you, John. So good. Such--" She shuddered, an aftershock passing through her. " -- Such a good man. Good hus--!" I entered her sweet, tight pussy, my hard cock ending her sentence in a sudden cry of pleasure.

"Beth." She looked at me, pleading. "I love you, Beth." A look of relief on her face, then her eyes rolled back into her head as I began to move in her. Her hands gripped the sheets, clawing and pulling them away from the mattress. "You're going to be such a good wife to me, aren't you?" Only a little, almost incoherent moan of assent passed her lips. Words failed us both as I began to make love to my wife for the first time.

I was gentle with her; I knew that soon, perhaps even tonight, I would take her roughly. Beth seemed to have a sexual need that Liz had never had, or at least had never shown to me. We would explore that together in time. But I wanted her to know that the John she'd grown comfortable with, the one she was trusting with her life and happiness, was the same one that was consummating our new marriage right now. That I could always be the safe harbor, the loving husband that she needed. She smiled up at me and put her hand on my cheek; I kissed it, and the look between us told me we both were finally where we'd longed to be.

But I'm only a man. And I had been alone for a long time, alone even with Beth here. I needed her with a passion I'd rarely felt. She saw the lust in my eyes, the lust that grew alongside my love for her, and crossed her legs around me. Her whispered urgings spurred me on. "Yes, John. Yes. Show me. Show me how much you love me." Beth leaned up to kiss me just briefly before falling back onto the bed, her hands on my biceps, nails digging into them as I sped us to our shared climax.

I started to piston into her now, my need crowding out the gentleness I'd wanted to show her. She hissed, "Yessss, fucking show me!" I felt her tighten around me, another orgasm approaching, and gave into my lust for her. There were no real words then, from either of us. Only grunts and gasps, and excited, animal pleadings for each other. She came first, but only by a second; she was still cumming as my seed finished flooding her and I slumped onto her, pinning her body to the mattress with my weight. We laid there, sweaty and gasping, until I heard her voice, soft with sadness. "S-- so good. So good. How much-- " A tiny sob. " -- how much am I missing? How much did I lose?"

That question preyed on my mind for the next two months. Not constantly, of course.. Most of the time, I focused on my not-exactly-renewal of my marriage with my wife that was not exactly the woman that I'd married. As we got closer, as she was willing to show her preferences to someone that loved her and that she trusted, I found how many of her tastes had really changed. Sometimes that was something like food; I had taken the lead in the preparation of our meals before, but she was a better cook, and once she took over that role, we started seeing a lot more Thai and Italian in the mix and a lot less American and Tex Mex. Other times it was movies and other pop culture. She threw herself into the things I loved and found that she loved them as well. The romcoms and serious Oscar-bait dramas that Liz had liked left her cold now.

Sexually, though? That was where I kept hearing alarm bells. She was passionate and varied in her tastes, a wild divergence from Liz. Maybe the biggest. There was almost nothing Beth wasn't down for, and she often took the lead. Her love was an inferno, intense and brilliantly bright. But where there was fire, there was smoke: the enthusiasm could be chalked up to her exploring her tastes and trying to make new memories to replace the old, but the skills that went with that? No.

Liz gave a decent blow job, when she was still giving them to me, but Beth could deepthroat like the second coming of Linda Lovelace. She had knowledge, skill-based knowledge, of various kinks that couldn't be learned from just watching porn; I knew that she did watch, and we sometimes watched together, with her pausing the video and exclaiming, "That, let's do that!" But she had to have picked this stuff up somewhere else. Either she had learned these skills before we were married and then never trotted them out for me or...

I tried really hard to not think about that "or." I knew that way would inevitably lead to heartbreak. But it wouldn't go away, not entirely. With the demolished wall of our power imbalance in the past, this new one sprung up. It was in the distance for now, but we were rushing towards it at breakneck speed, and eventually we'd slam straight into it.

When I wasn't mulling over those worries, though, we were mostly very content. We went out on dates, spent lazy Sundays on the couch and in bed, and tried to build our new lives together. We kept walking and then running; Beth was slow and tired quickly at first, but she rapidly gained in both speed and stamina. That last one had some really great knock on effects for other aspects of our relationship, but what really mattered was that she had something that she really loved doing. This was a place where Liz and Beth converged, and her old muscle memory combined with her joy of the sport meant she got very good very fast.

Eventually we started to look for new places to run: parks, jogging paths, nature trails, and the like. We had a few favorites, but it always felt like Beth was looking for something specific. Like there was a perfect path out there that she'd be happiest running. So we kept looking. And then one day, we found it.

We took off down the wooded path around a nearby lake, and she started to get a lead on me. This wasn't that surprising; she would regularly lope ahead and then back to me. But this time, when she ran ahead and then back, I had to retie my shoe. I told her not to wait for me, and she took off again. I jogged to catch up, but a few minutes later, I heard a man's voice cry out incredulously, "Liz?!" There were more words with raised voices, but not loud enough for me to make out.

My jog turned into a sprint, and I rounded a bend to find a young, athletic man with blonde hair and blue eyes reaching out for Beth. He looked confused, angry, and pained, all in one. It was a familiar look, a cousin to one I'd seen often recently on the face of Liz's former co-workers and friends. She was shrinking away. Afraid? Angry? I couldn't tell from this angle.

"Beth!" The man turned his gaze to me, and his expression cycled to sudden recognition then settled into a new one: fear. I skidded to a stop next to Beth. She looked at him like she'd seen a ghost. Her face was ashen, and I thought she might throw up. "Beth, are you okay?" She nodded mutely, still staring at the man. A stranger to me, but someone I was becoming certain she knew well.

He huffed, "Beth? What is he talking about, Liz?"

"Yes, Beth." My voice was even, but certainly not friendly. This man was no friend to me. "And you are?"

The stranger looked taken aback. He shifted his weight and tried to puff himself up, his body language clearly showing discomfort. "I-- Alan. I'm a-- Well, I thought I was a friend of Liz's. We used to run out here a couple times a week, but she disappeared a year ago. We were texting about our next-- our next run, and then she just ghosted me." His eyes shifted around when he gave details; probably lying, but whether in detail or by omission, I wasn't sure.

"I'm her husband, and I've never heard of you." He opened his mouth to talk, but I didn't care to hear another lie. "Liz was in a car accident." All the blood drained from his face. "She was in a coma for months, and she's lost most of her memories." I glanced over at Beth, but she wasn't here with us right now; I'd seen this expression when something triggered the retrieval of a memory, but she'd never gotten this lost in one before. "She's Beth now. She wanted-- she needed a clean break from who she was before and who she is now."

Then. Then I saw the look on Alan's face, the one I was dreading.The one that indicated a deep pain at being loved and then forgotten. The one they warned me about at the hospital, the one I was supposed to hide from her. The one that only I should have had to hide from her. "I-- " He tried to conceal his hurt, but he couldn't. I knew. He knew that I knew. And Beth did, too.

He cleared his throat. "I'm-- I'm glad you're back up and about Li-- Beth. I'm sorry that-- sorry about your-- your accident. I hope I see you back-- " My glare told him that if he finished that sentence, there would be consequences that at least one of us wasn't going to be able to live with. "I, uh, I need to get going. See you around."

Our run was over. Beth watched Alan leave, sorrow written on her face. I nodded to myself, then turned on my heel and started walking back towards the car. Beth must have realized I'd gone and caught up a minute later. We didn't speak on the way back, but we did stop once; she ran off into the bushes just off the path and emptied her stomach onto the ground.

The ride home was silent except for her sobs. When we got inside, I motioned for her to sit at the table before making her some tea. Neither of us wanted to do this. Both of us knew we had to. I set the tea down in front of her and waited for her to speak, but eventually I got tired of waiting.

"Liz cheated on me." It wasn't a question. There was no need to ask, just establish facts. She nodded. "Do you have any idea how long?"

"... A while." She took a sip. "A long while. I don't... I don't know how long exactly, but... but I know enough to know that he... he looked different sometimes. Different times of the year, different clothing. A beard at one point."

"How long have you... is his face one of the ones you've always remembered?" She was very quiet. Very still. "Please, just... just tell me." She nodded. "The first one, right? The one you expected to see when I walked through the door, when your husband walked through the door after you woke up. That's why you were surprised and disappointed, not just because you didn't remember my face, but because-- because you expected to see someone else. Someone you loved."