Who Am I

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Cheating and Light Sources.
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Who Am I?

(What am I doing here?)

By

littleOneWon

Recently, I attended a presentation called: "Human Light Sources." We were told that everyone emanates a tiny bit of light. A few people, known as 'light sources,' produce a different kind of light. Their light can be seen by a fairly large group of 'observers.' Some of those observers reflect that light. As for me, I placed that presentation right up there with snake oil salesmen and witch doctors. Nevertheless, it kind of stuck in my mind and I woke up today with this story circulating among my neurons.

CH 01 Infatuation

Who am I? What am I doing here? Famous words uttered by Admiral James Stockdale during the 1992 vice presidential campaign.

Who am I? Well, until recently, I was a loving wife and mother. I was faithful and trustworthy in every respect. Now, I'm what? A whore?

What am I doing here? That's where it gets kind of complicated. I need to take you back to over a month ago when Jerry Lambert joined our staff and began to occupy the cubicle next to mine.

He's a big guy. I figure he's probably an ex-football player or maybe a wrestler. He's in unbelievable physical shape. He's funny, witty, and handsome. He has it all. He's probably five or ten years older than me and way out of my league.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm a slouch, or ugly, or anything like that. I just don't run in his circles. He shines, like the sun. I reflect, like the moon. He makes his own light. I don't.

I need someone else's light if I'm to be seen. That someone has been my husband, Joe, for many years. In his light, I became visible. That visibility produced two wonderful children: a brilliant boy 14 years ago that we named Sunny, and a gleaming girl 10 years ago that we named Penny.

I've been dedicated to my family and I've given them my undivided attention--until a month ago. Of course, I had to work, but my free time belonged to Joe, Sunny, and Penny--until a month ago.

It started with coffee breaks at work. For some reason, Jerry picked 'little ole me' to receive his light. There were other more qualified candidates, but he directed his beams at me! I was very happy to sit across from him and reflect his light. His was a new and different light. I began to crave it. I would leave Joe's light every morning and rush into Jerry's light at work.

When it all started, I enjoyed basking in Jerry's light for only a few minutes a day, mostly during those aforementioned coffee breaks. Soon, his light began to shine on me during lunch too. It illuminated nooks, crannies, and corners in me that had been well hidden for years.

Before long, I wanted his light to last beyond my work day. At first, it began to shine for an hour or less after work. It was usually at a coffee shop or tearoom. I always sent a text to Joe telling him that I had to 'work late.'

When I got home, Joe's light was still shining brightly. That was reassuring. I loved to bask in his familiar and loving light.

Sunny and Penny noticed that I was brighter than usual. They were happy to see me glowing so much. Little did they know that it was because I was reflecting light from an additional light source.

Soon, an hour after work was not enough. I needed more of Jerry's light. I began leaving additional 'working late' messages for Joe when Jerry and I upgraded to restaurants and bars.

One evening when I got home after basking in Jerry's light for over two hours in a fancy restaurant, I noticed that the light at home was dimmer than usual. Joe had prepared dinner. He and the kids were already eating. His light was noticeably dimmer.

"Amy, what's going on at work?" he asked. "Why can't you finish on time anymore?"

I mumbled an answer about an increased workload. I sat at the table and just picked at my food. I knew that I dared not mention having already consumed a delicious steak dinner, let alone who I was with.

Even though Joe's light was dimmer, I was too happy to be very concerned. I loved feeling Joe's light combined with Jerry's light reflecting so brightly from my body. It felt good! My whole being revolved around that feeling.

During what turned out to be a pivotal Friday evening, Jerry took me to a club after work. His light became more personal than before. It shone on my neck, my ears, and my lips. It shone through my blouse and caused my nipples to harden. It shone between my legs and created a large amount of moisture. I was nearly ecstatic in his ever-increasing light.

We moved to a dark, private booth at the very back of the club. He unzipped his pants and raised my short skirt. He placed me on his lap. All that separated mine from his was the thin material of my panties. I felt his hand trying to eliminate that encumbrance. We were both panting noisily.

He finally pulled that thin material to one side, exposing his intended target. We had skin-to-skin contact. The noise level increased markedly when his fingers found and entered their target. The sound resembled a couple of those old-time steam locomotives going up an incline! It peaked when his fingers brought me to an unconstrained orgasm. I was having trouble getting my breath!

Soon, his fingers were replaced by a more appropriate and seductive appendage. Before long, his was rubbing against mine. It was his glans teasing my clitoris. He came close to his ultimate goal several times. Of course, 'close' only counts in horseshoes.

I noticed an older woman sitting alone at a table across the room. She was watching us. I'm sure it looked like we were doing the 'dirty' right there in front of her, God, and everyone. Jerry was trying hard for that, but he was having trouble finding his target. I thought about reaching down and helping him with that, but when I noticed that the curious lady was heading to the bar, I decided to slow things down. She was talking to the bartender. I was trying to wiggle my way off of Jerry's lap. I was too late.

A burly bouncer walked up to our table and grabbed a handful of my hair. As he yanked me off of Jerry's lap, he read me the riot act: "Look here, you stupid whore, I want you out of here. We're not getting closed down for allowing prostitution in this establishment. Not on my watch."

With that, he dragged me to the door and shoved me out. As I was flying to the curb, I looked over my shoulder. Jerry was still sitting in the booth. The bouncer didn't touch him! What an example of male chauvinist pigs. Jerry was one of them! He made no effort to help me. It was then that I noticed a big change in him. His light had disappeared! It was gone. Maybe it was my ability to see his light that was gone. Maybe it was both!

As I was driving home, the depravity of my actions overwhelmed me. I had been treated like a prostitute. I was referred to as a whore. I'm sure it looked that way to the lady watching us. I'm sure that she reported us to the bartender.

How many people witnessed my humiliation? How many of them knew me? Would it get back to Joe? Is my goose cooked? Whatever happens, I deserve it. Who am I?

I was three hours late getting home. The house was shrouded in complete darkness. There was no light. There was no family. We usually enjoyed something together as a family on Friday evenings. This time, they probably got tired of waiting for me to show up.

It was an hour later that there was finally a family present. There was still hardly any light. I had to strain my eyes to see my husband. His light was all but out. It was an eerie darkness. It completely absorbed any light that I might have been reflecting. It sapped my energy and caused me to tremble. That night, I found it difficult to sleep with all of that dark energy next to me in bed. I was miserable all night long.

I spent most of the night rehashing the events that happened at the club. How long would it be before Joe found out? How long after that would my family remain together? Had I destroyed, in one perverse evening, everything that we had built together during all of those years of marriage? Every time I thought about what I had allowed to occur, I asked myself: "Who am I?"

Every time I allowed myself to visualize being in that booth with Jerry, I knew that I should have been asking: "What am I doing here?"

The guilt was overwhelming. I knew I had to take action. First, I had to put an end to this madness right now. That's a given. Should I tell Joe what I'd been doing before he heard it from someone else? Should I just hope he will never find out? Should I just strive to be the best wife a man ever had from now on? Decisions, decisions!

CH 02 - Visualization

I decided to think everything through since I wasn't sleeping anyway.

I visualized myself sitting in my favorite recliner as Joe walked in the door. I was holding a glass of wine in my hand. I reached for the bottle and poured a glass for him. He said, "None for me. I'm not in a celebratory mood, Amy."

I looked into his eyes. There was no light emanating from them. There was only darkness.

I whined, "Honey, I'm not celebrating anything. In fact, I'm in mourning. I need this glass of wine and I think you are going to need one too when you hear what I have to say."

I handed him the glass of wine. He looked into my eyes. What he saw there must have affected him. He raised his glass and began sipping his wine.

"Joe, honey, I know that you've been worrying about me. You've been upset by my actions over the past month or so. You have every right to be concerned. I'm here today to throw myself on your mercy. I have no extenuating circumstances to justify my actions, so my only course of action is to depend on your mercy.

"I once had a Sunday school teacher who taught us about mercy. She said that not one human being had ever earned their way into Heaven. She said that the Bible stated as much. It said, 'All have sinned and fallen short.'

Even so, she pointed out that Heaven will not be empty. Why? Because of God's mercy. No one earns it. We get there through mercy. It's the only path."

After relating that story, I went on to tell Joe that I was not going to justify my actions. I was simply going to lay out what I did and hope for his mercy. It was my only path if I wanted to continue being his wife. It was also the only path that would not adversely impact our marriage and our children.

Then I described how things began to change when Jerry arrived at my workplace. I mentioned the light that he radiated. I explained how I began sitting with him during coffee breaks, which quickly led to having lunch with him. I stated that those things led to spending a lot of time with him after work. "I lied to you about it. I told you that I was working late."

I admitted that we escalated to spending time at coffee shops, tearooms, restaurants, and bars. Usually, it was for an hour or so. Before long, we were spending a couple of hours together after work. "I knew you were getting suspicious, but I justified my actions in my own mind. Yes, I was clicking with him emotionally, but we hadn't taken it beyond a little kissing and some groping. That all changed yesterday."

I laid my heart out for him to see. I admitted that what began as infatuation soon became a full-fledged emotional affair. I conceded that I had shared information about my marriage with Jerry.

"It was mostly things about our disagreements and our sex life. I always stressed the bad points. I mentioned only our sexual failures, not the overwhelming number of times when there was ecstasy followed by many minutes of afterglow. I never mentioned the depth of love that permeated every minute of love-making with you.

"Instead, I basked in Jerry's light and ignored the fact that with every day of my emotional affair, your light grew dimmer."

I went on to state that finally and inevitably, a physical element was added to the emotional affair. I told him what happened at the club. Every humiliating detail. I stressed that it was never a fully consummated affair. We never went "all the way."

"I had one orgasm. It was caused by his fingers. He has never pierced me with anything that could make a baby. Most importantly, he never will. It ended yesterday evening when I was thrown out of that club and accused of being a prostitute. It's over and done. You can stick a fork in it. No more of anything with Jerry. Not even coffee breaks.

"Monday morning, I'm going to ask for a transfer to another department. If my request is denied, I will find another job. You and the kids are all that matters now. I almost threw all of that away and it scares me to death. Never again! You can count on that. You can take it to the bank, honey.

"I also need you to understand that you did nothing to precipitate what I did. I have never been unhappy with your performance as a husband, a father, or a lover. You have been perfect in every respect. I need you to know that. You must never think you were to blame for my actions in any way whatsoever. The most important point is that I remained in love with you through it all.

"I was infatuated and enamored with him, but my love was always reserved for only you. I don't know if you can appreciate that distinction or even believe it, but I swear that it's true. I never stopped loving you. My emotional self and a small part of my body were shared with him, but my love never was.

"I will answer any questions you want to ask. I know that whatever happens to me, whatever happens to us, whatever happens to our family, depends entirely on whether or not you choose to give me mercy. If you can't do that, I will still be the only one responsible for the disaster that ensues.

"Your mercy is not in any way obligatory. Withholding it in no way shifts any blame to you. The blame is still all mine. All that your mercy will mean, if you choose that path, is that I will avoid the consequences of my actions. Coincidently, our family will avoid the consequences too, not because of me, but because of you. It's at this point that I will rest my case. As you can see, I have no case. All I have is hope. A hope for mercy that I know I don't deserve."

When I looked into his eyes and saw not even a small glow, I knew that there would be no mercy for me.

He said, "I have loved you with every cell of my body. I trusted you with my very vulnerable heart. I watched as you moved away from me. Even worse, you moved away from your children. You took time from us and gave it to him.

"I just 'love' the way that you used what the Bible says about God's mercy and somehow equated it with our situation. If you think about it, when God gives his mercy, the forgiven people end up with him in Heaven. The Bible also indicates that while we have free will here on earth, it won't be that way to those that are awarded Heaven."

He reminded me of the verse that mentions a rebellion in Heaven. "Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But the dragon was not strong enough, and no longer was any place found in Heaven for him and his angels."

He pointed out that the lesson to be learned was that there would be no place in Heaven for those who rebelled. A rebellion was not allowed.

He stressed that in our case, there was no such warranty. If I chose to see the light from some other "Jerry," there was nothing to prevent it from happening again. In addition to imparting mercy to me, he would also have to trust me not to perform an encore at some point in time. It would be nothing like Heaven where further rebellion was prohibited. I would be free to rebel again at any time.

It would all depend on trust, and that ship had sailed. He might be able to forgive me and even grant me mercy, but he could never trust me again.

"You stressed the fact that you never let him fuck you. It was all just some sort of mutual masturbation. Tell me this, would you be able to make that statement if that lady hadn't watched you and reported your actions to the bartender? I think not. It was not because you stopped him from having his way with you; it was because a bouncer stopped you just short of doing so. I have no doubt about that. If the bouncer had not stopped it, you would have fucked him right there in that booth.

"In reality, Amy, you began trashing our marriage when you had your coffee breaks with him every day. You began to destroy what we had built together when you started going places with him after work while telling me you were working late. That night at the club was the last nail driven into the coffin that contains our marriage and our family. That's when all hope of saving what we had together died."

He went on to say that there was no future for us because of the trust issue. He didn't want a life of monitoring my every move, using devices to record my conversations and text messages, let alone spending his hard-earned money to hire a PI.

He stated that it was with much sorrow that he would be asking his attorney to prepare divorce papers as soon as possible. He wanted us to work together to reduce the impact on our children as much as humanly possible. He wanted an amicable divorce, but make no mistake about it, divorce was the only possible outcome. There was no light coming from him.

CH 03 - Return to Reality

As I cleared my head, I was not sure how much had been my visualization and how much could have been a bad dream. I could have fallen asleep. All I knew for sure was that whatever had happened, I was scared to death.

Based on that, I decided that a confession was not in my best interests. It was not the best thing for my family. There are times when silence is golden. Sometimes revealing hurtful things is not prudent.

I decided to spare Joe the details of my emotional and somewhat physical affair. Instead, I would swear to myself to never go there again. I would pledge myself to be the best wife possible going forward.

Was my choice risk-free? Of course not. There are many ways that he might learn about what happened. If he does, then all hell will break loose. Since, thanks to my visualization, I have already determined that telling him everything would have dismal results, I have no additional risk by remaining silent.

I decided to banish all thoughts of Jerry from my mind and go back to being the wife and mother that I had been pre-Jerry. The very next day at work, I talked to my boss and asked for a transfer.

I told him that my marriage was at stake. I think he understood exactly what I meant. Maybe he had heard about what happened at the club. At any rate, I left that evening with my transfer papers in my hand. I didn't see Jerry at all that day. Perhaps he called in sick. I didn't ask.

When Joe came home that evening, I had dinner on the table. The kids were happy and I could see the light building in my husband's eyes. After the kids were in bed, I showed Joe my transfer papers. "What brought this on?" he questioned.

"Honey, I know that the time I had had to spend working late bothered you and it was having an impact on the family as a whole. I decided that my family was more important than my job. I checked with my friend in HR and found out about a vacancy in the Accounting Department. They wanted to fill it ASAP. My accounting degree was my key to the door and the glowing recommendation from my boss kicked it wide open.

"I start my new job tomorrow. I already have my new parking pass and everything is 'go.' This job is a better fit for me than the Research Department gig. I'll be working in the main building across the street. They guaranteed me there would be no more staying late. I'm excited."

Joe shared my excitement and a bright light was emanating from him once again! Everything was hunky dory-- until it wasn't.

The following Friday morning, I knew that something was dreadfully wrong. Urinating was painful for me. It burned like an open flame. A hand mirror revealed three angry puss-filled sores in my female area. I cried aloud, "Oh, shit! I'm in trouble now. Is it karma?"

12