We Needed to Talk

Saturday night, December 23:

Beverly was trepidatious as she toweled herself dry. However; her apprehensions didn't dissuade her from critically appraising her nude body in the full length, bathroom mirror. For the first time in years, she was pleased rather than dismayed by the sight of herself. She was now confident that she remained a desirable woman.

The encounter at the impromptu holiday party last night had renewed Bev's confidence. She could rationalize that she hadn't gone to far with the guys that her friends had introduced to her. Technically; she hadn't crossed the Rubicon. She hadn't become an adulteress. At first she'd been able to rationalize that she'd indulged in much the same flirtatious behavior with men that she'd danced with at the at the airline's corporate holiday parties she'd attended with her husband. Ben had never chastised her or complained.

Bev felt giddy as well as guilty about her behavior last night. Her suitors had been nearly twenty years younger rather than two decades older than she. Her suitors hadn't been vice presidents of the airline nor valued customers or vendors. She hadn't been flirting so outrageously with her suitors in an effort to advance her husband's career. She hadn't been indulging in the customary, subtle whorings that were so often necessary to enable husbands to prevail in corporate dominance games.

Beverly's flirtatious behavior had escalated so outrageously because her suitors hadn't been ostensibly respectable men. They hadn't been merely exploiting the holiday season as an excuse to take only a few, minor, drunken liberties with another man's wife. Bev hadn't been invoking the customary holiday indulgence sanctioned by the mistletoe. While she had been drinking, probably to drunk to be driving, she hadn't been so drunk that she could honestly invoke that excuse.

Last night's transgressions were all the more outrageous because her suitors hadn't been some clumsy, drunken neophyte who was unaccustomed to actually consummating a seduction. Her friends had introduced the guys to her because they were real studs. She'd flirted so shamelessly with her preselected suitors even though both were so obviously accomplished Casanovas. She'd soon understood that they were in the habit of seducing respectable, married women just like her. She'd flirted so shamelessly with them because she had known, deep down in her soul, that ultimately, she wanted to become more notches on their whittled down bedposts.

For the first time in years, Beverly felt confident. Perhaps motherhood really had enhanced rather than ravaged her body. Last night's suitors obviously wouldn't have difficulty seducing women their own age, yet they had focused their attentions on her. The encounter had convinced her that she looked pretty damn good for a forty-something mother of three.

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Beverly appraised herself. It was undeniable that her belly remained gently rounded and soft rather than flat and firm. Her efforts to loose weight and get in shape had been only partially successful. However; she now realized that her wider hips combined with her big breasts contrasted with her admittedly thicker waist, giving her an almost classic, hourglass figure. She had become thicker rather than fatter. Unlike her complacent husband, the men at the clubs certainly seemed to find her somewhat voluptuous body alluring.

As Beverly continued to inspect herself in the mirror, she conceded that her maternal breasts sagged quite a bit. There were occasions when she'd been tempted to yield to Ben's not so subtle suggestions that she get implants or at least a lift. However; she'd already had to endure a cesarean section to deliver their youngest. Ben had also been badgering her about getting her tubes tied. She didn't want to go under the knife again, not even for contraception let alone cosmetics.

More importantly, Bev's husband shouldn't find her more attractive if she got implants because he'd know that her breasts weren't real. The only men who might be fooled were other men. Their opinions shouldn't matter. She had considered getting her breasts lifted, but assisting in the gruesome surgery had changed her mind.

In an effort to appease Ben, Beverly had begun wearing sexier, lower cut bras that supported and accentuated her breasts. Last night, her friends had coaxed and cajoled her until she agreed to slip off her bra while she was in the ladies' room. She'd had no doubt that upon her return to their table, the clinging fabric of her dress had made it obvious that she was braless. The sensations of her unrestrained breasts swinging and swaying pendulously as she danced with her paramours had been almost as exhilarating as their reactions.

Glancing down at her sparse growth of dark pubic hair, Beverly was reminded of all of the times that she had been accused of being a bottle blonde. She'd intentionally worn stockings rather than pantyhose for her evening out clubbing. She'd even gone commando under her dress even though the hemline was above her knees! She was certain that not only her paramours but their Brothers had been treated to more than a mere glimpse of her pubic hair. They had obviously been to pleased to make any such accusations.

Ben's incessant suggestions that she should shave her vulva weren't entirely unreasonable. However; she'd already had to endure the itching and discomfort of her pubic hair growing back each time she gave birth. More importantly, she wondered why. Did her husband think she was unclean? Did Ben want to fantasize that she was a young girl? That last thought was the most disturbing.

Inspecting herself in the mirror provoked a decision. She needed a distraction as well as an excuse to procrastinate. Beverly grabbed a comb and scissors then sat on the edge of the bathtub. It took her only a few minutes to trim and even out her pubic hair. She had to admit that she did look neater and more groomed. Her labia as well as her mildly protruding clitoris were also far more visible.

Beverly; inspected her nude body again. One of the men that she had recently been introduced to while out clubbing with her friends had commented that she resembled the late actress Jayne Mansfield. The other had suggested that she was a dead ringer for Ellen Griswold of the Vacation movies. The bruises on her breasts attested to how enamored her suitors had been with them. She had every right to resent her husband's chronic complacency that had convinced her that she was no longer a desirable woman.

As she was hanging up her towel, Beverly contemplated the dreadful talk with her husband. She'd been vacillating about the potential conversation for weeks now. The encounter that'd she'd enjoyed while she was out clubbing with her friends last night had transformed her nascent infatuation into not just blatant temptation but intention. She'd remained with the group when the four women, with as many men accompanying them, decided to have a more private, holiday party at Belinda's house. Ultimately; she had almost given into temptation. However; she could still claim that she hadn't crossed the Rubicon. She'd just gotten her feet wet before turning back.

Unfortunately; it was now unlikely that Beverly had even a few days to make up her mind. Perhaps she no longer had the luxury of deciding if she would tell her husband before the ski trip, after the trip, or never. All of her friends, including the two whose husbands knew about their extramarital dalliances, had been urging her to say nothing, ever. They had argued that what Benjamin never knew, wouldn't hurt him.

Unfortunately; Bev couldn't rationalize that she was at liberty much less entitled. She wasn't separated, either legally or informally. She wasn't recently reconciled with an understanding that certain provisions of the traditional vows were no longer valid. She couldn't imagine that Ben could be as open minded as Bettina's husband much less Belinda's. His desire for a reconciliation had been so overwhelming that he'd granted her a perpetual Hall Pass as a concession to persuade her. Their explicit understanding was that she was at liberty so long as she was reasonably discrete but not deceitful. Belinda had become an evangelist of carnality, proselytizing about the joys of interracial sex to her friends. First Bettina and then Betty had become her converts. Beverly had now become the focus of Belinda's proselytizing. She'd reluctantly conceded to herself that ultimately, her seduction was inevitable. Now it seemed as if there might be no need for her to broach the subject with her husband.

Beverly wasn't certain how much of her conversation with Betty that her husband might have overheard. Ben hadn't texted her to warn her that he'd been reassigned to an earlier flight. He'd wanted his earlier than expected arrival home to be an early Christmas present.

Bev had been surprised then mortified when she discovered only after Betty had left that her husband was laying on the living room couch!. It wasn't unusual for him to take a nap after a flight to cope with the jet lag. He'd just flown across the Pacific. However; he hadn't pretended that he was still asleep. He hadn't said anything that might reveal how long he'd been awake either. There had been no angry confrontation. There hadn't even been any comments that might suggest that he'd overheard the most incriminating portions of her conversation with Betty. Ben hadn't angrily confronted her about last night's transgressions much less the impending skiing vacation that she'd been contemplating with her friends.

Now it might not matter if Bev's resolve faltered. Depending on how much of her conversation with Betty that her husband might have overheard, some variation of that conversation might be unavoidable. Beverly once again silently rehearsed the opening line in her head. "Honey, we need to talk." She'd been unable to find the words to progress beyond that one, simple preamble. She had known that it was a conversation that could damage or even destroy her marriage.

Beverly gathered up her sleep bra and one of her dowdy nightgowns. She hesitated as she began to put her bra on. She was briefly tempted to present herself to her husband nude, emulating that scene in that Jayne Mansfield movie that Ben enjoyed so much. Her conversation with Betty had certainly rekindled her inflamed arousal.

She glanced at her smartwatch. Thanks to the recently introduced biometric features, almost all of the female nurses and doctors at the hospital had one. All of the younger women had downloaded certain applications. A familiar icon discretely urged caution. The ovulation tracking app estimated that she had already entered the potentially fertile phase of her cycle. However; she remained several days away from her predicted ovulation. She was only a few days away from peak fertility, or at least as fertile as a woman her age could be. No wonder she'd been feeling so amorous last night!

Ordinarily; Beverly would abstain when her smartwatch advised her that she was entering the fertile phase of her cycle. A dozen days of abstinence out of each cycle wasn't that unreasonable. His flight schedules often kept him away from home for a fortnight or more. His absences had been far more prolonged back when he was a pilot for the Navy. She and Ben were getting to an age when maybe once a week was about normal for married couples anyway.

Imposing periodic abstinence was also Beverly's ploy to persuade her husband to get a vasectomy. Unfortunately; Ben remained phobic about getting his balls cut. However; tonight was different. Seducing her husband might assuage her guilt while enabling her to evade or at least delay the conversation that she dreaded. Moreover; it was undeniable that last night had inflamed her libido. She needed to get laid!

Unfortunately; Beverly understood that any obvious effort to distract or entice Ben would justifiably be misconstrued. If he had overheard as much of the conversation as she feared, her amorous overtures would be seem to be manipulative and deceitful. She'd only enrage him.

Inspecting herself in the mirror once again forced Bev's decision. Ben would have every right to become angry if he noticed the incriminating bruises on her breasts. She compromised with caution as well as her conscience. She put on her sleep bra but left her nightgown hanging in the bathroom. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep without a nightgown, even during the winter.

Fortunately; Ben said nothing as Beverly entered their bedroom. Her husband was already in bed. He hadn't even bothered to unpack from his most recent foray to Asia. His exposed chest suggested that he was also nude rather than wearing pajamas.

Bev paused at the doorway, adopting a hopefully seductive pose that emulated Jayne Mansfield. Ben merely watched quietly as she approached the bed. He remained silent as he glanced at her smartwatch.

As Beverly approached their bed, Ben's expression of disappointment made it obvious that he'd noticed the indiscrete icon on her smartwatch that he had become so familiar with in recent years. The widget was intended to advise her of when she was becoming fertile. Rather than embracing the prime opportunities to conceive, she utilized the device to minimize the risk of pregnancy. She therefore needed to be more cautious. Ben finally spoke accusingly, "you've been proselytizing again."

Beverly paused to think. How much of the conversation had Brad really overheard? Thanks to the glasses of wine that the women had shared in a misguided effort to alleviate their hangovers, she couldn't recall exactly when she'd helped Betty download the app, tutored her on how to use the app, then synch her new smartwatch with her smartphone. Had it been during the beginning, the middle or the end of their conversation? She seemed to remember that the tutorial had been interspersed with more incriminating discussions. Ben's teasing tone suggested that he hadn't overheard to much.

Beverly replied, "I don't proselytize. I just offer women an alternative to birth control pills, condoms or the diaphragm." Perhaps Beverly wasn't busted, but Betty certainly might be.

Ben responded, "you might not think of it as proselytizing. However; you are converting other women to your way of thinking. It's all the more interesting because Brad was rather vociferous about the lingering complications from his vasectomy."

Betty was certainly busted. Beverly was certainly exposed as an accomplice to her friend's adultery. She stammered, "are you going to tell Betty's husband?"

"No," Ben replied. "I don't want to be the one who tells Brad that his loving wife just bought an expensive, new smartwatch because it will enable her to track her cycle. I don't want to have to explain why she needs the biometric sensors and apps on her new smartwatch even though he can't get her pregnant. Your conversation made it obvious that unlike Belinda and Bettina's husbands, Brad hasn't granted Betty a Hall Pass. I don't want to have to explain that his loving wife has been cheating on him these last few months. I don't want to be around him when he realizes that his loving wife has been treating him to sloppy seconds almost every day these past few weeks. That's the type of message that might inspire a cuckolded husband to shoot the messenger."

Ben paused before continuing. "Thanks to you, Betty will soon have her smartwatch just like Bettina and Belinda to help her track her cycle. She did say that the guy has usually been willing to pull out, at least when she remembered to ask him to. Once she has her smartwatch with the cycle tracking software to remind her of when she really needs to abstain or at least be careful, she will be at less risk of getting pregnant. As you reminded Betty, she's also on the wrong side of forty. She's not as fertile as she once was. Betty will probably be able to get away with it even if she doesn't heed the warnings of her smartwatch. Hopefully; her affair will run its course without Brad ever needing to know about it."

Beverly was shocked by her husband's response. She hadn't expected Ben to be so open minded. She was to shocked to consider the implications of her own response. She asked incredulously, "wouldn't you want Brad to tell you if he found out that I was cheating on you?"

"No. I wouldn't want Brad to tell me if he knew that you'd been screwing around on me," Ben replied. "Knowing that he or any of our friends knew would just make the situation even more humiliating for me. That would make it even harder for us to work it out. Ideally; I'd never know either."

Beverly was spared the need to think of a response when she felt Ben's hands gripping her hips. He wasn't a particularly tall man and he didn't look athletic. However; he'd spent his childhood on his parents' farm working harder than most people could imagine. He'd also served in the Navy. Naval aviators were required to stay in shape to enable them to pull high gees. His oversized hands and forearms made him look like Popeye the Sailor man. His powerful grip gently but resolutely coaxed then almost coerced her to climb up onto the bed with him. Bev soon found herself with her knees on either side of his head and her vulva poised above his face. The comfortable yet once taboo position had become one of their favorites in recent years.

Beverly felt guilty and embarrassed because she was guilty. However; she yielded to her lust. Beverly pressed her sex against Ben's face. She was rewarded by the sensation of his lips and tongue working their familiar magic. As her arousal escalated, she felt guilty. There was a reason why Ben was always so eager to pleasure her orally.

As usual, Ben's talented tongue and lips soon brought Beverly to orgasm. In spite of her guilt, she shamelessly rode him. She used him for her pleasure as if he were one of the toys that he'd given her over the years.

When her climax had abated, Bev slid her pelvis down off Ben's face then along his chest and paunch until she felt his obviously erect penis probing for her labia. Her husband obviously wasn't going to have any difficulties tonight! He refused to consider Viagra because it might prevent him from passing his flight physical.

As Beverly enveloped Ben's eager erection, he glanced at the icon displayed on her smartwatch. She leaned down to kiss him then whispered, "it's okay. You've been away for a fortnight again. I'm probably still to early in my cycle to be fertile yet. I'll be extra careful."

There was no more protest from her husband as Beverly began to rhythmically flex her pelvic muscles. She knew that the sensation of her vagina massaging his penis would soon bring him to orgasm. However; she was elated to feel her own arousal building to another climax.

There was a reason why Ben was so diligent about pleasuring her orally. Her husband wasn't well endowed. At best, he was about average, or at least almost average, and he knew it. Moreover; he knew that while Beverly hadn't been particularly promiscuous, she hadn't been a virgin when he started courting her. She knew that he also suspected that she'd not remained celibate during his prolonged deployments just as she couldn't be certain that he hadn't given into temptation. Infidelity was often a taboo subject for military couples because it was an occupational hazard. While she preferred to think that she hadn't been promiscuous, her premarital dalliances hadn't been constrained to only a few, serious boyfriends.

Beverly's chronic failures to orgasm during sex had compelled her to gently confide to Ben. He'd been dismayed by the confirmation that most of her previous boyfriends and dalliances had been at least somewhat better endowed than he was. Their penises had been longer or thicker, or both. Ben had foolishly pressured her for details. Bev's misguided effort to reassure her husband-to-be by confessing that one guy had been so well endowed that having sex with him was often painful if they weren't careful had not assuaged Ben's ego. His embarrassment had dissuaded him from proposing to her. They'd actually broken up just before his next deployment. It was fortunate that an unexpected pregnancy had motivated him to propose to her, long distance.