Wife's Trip to New York

A week later, Chris who knew the two of them were still sending each other romantic e mails again made a last try. He had heard on NPR a story about spouses in erotic conversations in chat rooms, and sometimes setting up a meeting with those people. Most of the commentators thought that erotic chats with someone you didn't know were harmless enough if you weren't married, but for married people it was troublesome.

The concept was emotional adultery. You were sharing intimacies and personal feelings that you might not even share with your spouse. In essence instead of discussing difficulties with the spouse, who might be able to change their behavior to meet the expectations, it was with the Chat friend, who had no particular interest in helping the marriage. If the chat friend wished to take advantage, they could offer advice and comments that would drive wedges between the spouses. Like getting marriage counseling from someone who wanted to break up the marriage so they could fuck one of you.

Chris told her about this over coffee after supper one that evening and said:
"So what do you think? Is it harmless for a guy to chat anonymously with a woman, tell them all sorts of very personal things, but adultery if he knows or meets the woman he's talking to?"

She thought a moment "Hmm. Remember years ago when there was talk about making rape a capital offense, but someone pointed out that that would encourage the rapist to kill the victim? Seems to me this is similar. Talking about something is never the same as doing it, so it's not adultery in either case. I grant you the anonymous chat is better by far. I think it is wrong, however. Just where is the line? I mean, tongue kisses, groping, hands on gentiles, oral sex? I would be progressively ripped at you on all of those things. And if you screwed someone, it would be all over!"

"Well let's stick to chats. If they told each other in detail what went on in the marital bed. And both claimed their spouses were so-so in bed but too prudish, to unwilling to move from vanilla sex? Of if they trash talked their spouse? Or to discuss their sexual fantasies that they hadn't shared with their spouse?"

"Well Chris, I think that's over the line. At a minimum, spouses have the right to expect privacy between themselves. Now it does make a bit of a difference if you are talking to a man or a woman. Women do discuss things among themselves that men don't."

"Well, I suppose woman to woman would be more acceptable. Would it make a difference if the chat was with an old flame, as opposed to someone you didn't know?"

"Well, husband that's a no brainier. Sex talk to someone you know and are or were sexually attracted to is clearly an inch from adultery. I never heard of emotional adultery, but I get the idea, and that would be it for sure. Now myself, I wouldn't have such chats to begin with, because they set the stage for screwing around. I mean come on!"

"I think you're right. Sharing intimacies can be adultery especially if coupled with the intent to carry it out, and I haven't any tolerance for that either!"

This little talk worried her, but she checked and indeed that topic was on NPR that afternoon, so it was natural to talk about it. It might have cooled Wifey's responses a bit, but of course not Roy's. The e-mails continued and the intimacy developed like a cancer. To Wifey's credit she stopped him several times when he was digging for more details of their marriage and sex practices, but for the most part told him what he really wanted to hear by giving her sexual preferences in more general answers.

Roy told her his Philly client was on for Thursday afternoon. He would fly in Thursday morning, rent a room in center city, and fly back to Syracuse at the crack of dawn Friday morning. So they were confirmed for this Thursday night.

As it happened, Chris's boss had been talking about taking their wives out to dinner to celebrate a big order Chris has brought into the firm. Chris saw the date they made, and took the opportunity to interfere with Karen and Roy, So he set the dinner up for Thursday night. He delayed telling the wife about it until Wednesday, the evening before.

"Karen, I hate to spring this on you at the last moment, but the boss and his wife want to take us out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate the Chicago order I brought into the firm. For them it's a happy celebration, for us I'd like it to be a happy celebration of our love for one another."

She muttered about her office team building supper, realized it was stupid and then said:

"I have a conflict with the idiot work team, but no doubt about it, your dinner is more important, and certainly will be at a better restaurant, so what time do we have to leave here."

She e mailed Roy that night to call it off. Roy called Karen's office late the next morning, and said he shifted his schedule, and could she get away mid afternoon? The answer was...sure. How about 3 PM? That would leave them a couple of hours. Time enough.

She worked well over 40 hours most weeks (at no extra pay) so it was no big deal to get a few hours off. Ironically she told her boss she had to shop for a dress to wear for a fancy dinner her husband was taking her to! The details of their motel sex were vanilla suck and fuck. The two of them weren't very original anyway. Two orgasms for Roy, one and a half for her. She cleaned herself up and got home with plenty of time to shower and change for dinner.

The evening was a good time for everybody. The dinner went well. The four of them laughed and had a good time. Chris was happy thinking he had kept Karen from adultery. They had some marital fun that night, nice...maybe a little better than normal for Chris. Karen had a spectacular day. Three point five orgasms and two cocks in one day. A Thursday to remember! She conclude Roy was a tad shorter than Chris, not that it mattered.

It was almost a week later when Chris caught up with their e mails. Definitely they met that afternoon, and was sort of implied they fucked, but not stated explicitly. So his talk had no effect. For sure, if they hadn't fucked already, they would soon. He got serious about planning for life after Karen. Had a lawyer draft a divorce agreement...moved money out of joint accounts. Canceled a bunch of junk credit cards in their joint names, and listed all active credit card account information and access information against the day when he would lower the boom.
In the middle of this, a foreclosure property he had been negotiating to buy was coming to a successful conclusion, but if he was going to get a divorce, best not to have it in his name. Chris's dad stepped in as a straw man to buy the place. It was a large lot with a 1920's cottage in deplorable shape, but with an occupancy permit. He would save himself the cost of an apartment when he moved out and have a project to keep him too busy to feel sorry for himself.

In the weeks thereafter, Roy laid a guilt trip on Karen for canceling their supper and evening together at the last minute, and began pushing for a couple of days together for a dirty weekend in New York, but nothing was happening. She politely prevaricated, or turned him down cold each time he suggested a get together.

Roy was striking out. Good for her.

Their chat took a new turn as they now talked openly about their time together. Praise for his cocksmanship, her tits and ass. He had the balls to ask her again to shave her pussy, and added a request to wear an ankle bracelet. She resisted temptation for a week. The e mails were getting more intimate. They were trading sex stories...real or imagined hot activities and techniques. Then the beginning of the end. After a lot of bullshit, she agreed to spend two nights in New York with him. Chris read all this and wondered how she would set it up.

He didn't have to wait long. She told him she had a training course in the city, and her employer was paying for it. It was a great distinction for her! Paid for 100%. He let her go on about it. Agreed what a good thing it was. Even took her out to supper to celebrate. Praised her to her parents. Also emphasized how much he loved her etc, etc.

She suggested she shave her pussy for him. Something different. He told her he liked hair down there, but if she fancied shaved genitals why didn't she shave him instead? They had fun, the two of them, and shaved he now is, and her pussy remains as furry as it's namesake.

Two days later she came home wearing a slave bracelet Roy had sent to her work address. Karen claimed she bought it. "I've always wanted one! It's just plated, but I think it looks quite nice!"

"You know what they're called?"

"Duhhh! An ankle bracelet! What else?"

"That too! They're called a slave bracelet. Women only wear them when their 'master' gives them one. Of course it does not necessarily reflect a true master-slave relationship, just that the wearer acknowledges the dominance of the giver. You want a slave bracelet, I'll give you one. So tell me, who's whispering in you ear telling you to shave your cunt, and now wear a slave bracelet? I'd like to know!"

"Nobody! Chris, honestly you have to stop being so jealous. I never heard that about ankle bracelets. Nobody's dominating me. It's just a piece of jewelry! It's a matter of style. As to the other, grooming down there is very common these days. I'm very unusual in not trimming it. I thought you'd like it, that's all! I'm sorry I brought it up!"

He got the agreement on the house, and thanks to having his financials ready to go settled on it a week later. His dad thought he was nuts and kidded him to shore up the roof before he slept in the place. It was the ultimate fixer upper.

As it came down to the end, she was fretting about how to get to New York City.
From their house, you could take the light rail into Philadelphia, and then switch to Amtrak to New York which is expensive, or take light rail from Philadelphia to Trenton, and change to another light rail in Trenton which is slower but cheaper. The quickest way is to drive, which takes about 2 hours, but she would never do that. She hated driving in traffic, plus tolls are high, and parking is expensive when you get there.
She had taken the train into Philadelphia from time to time, but was uncertain how to change trains and whatnot.

He laid out the bait. He'd take a half day off using comp time, and make the hour drive to take her to Trenton and see her to the right train. That was wonderful! She was relieved! All her worries were lifted. She idly thought 'he was such a good husband to offer to do that. Such a good husband!'

She had no clue how miserable that trip would be! Just to be sure it was still on, Chris called the hotel and asked if they were holding a room for her. No, there was no reservation under that name.

"Perhaps under the name Roy Egan?"

BIngo! Confirmation! As if he needed it.

One other stroke of luck the evening before she was to leave, the Wife's wedding ring and engagement ring were on the bathroom sink. The stone in the engagement ring was his grandmothers. He pocked the engagement ring, went to his shop and popped the diamond out, and put the ring back.

She called the next morning from work to tell him about the lost stone. He promised to search for it that weekend. He had taken Thursday afternoon off as well as Friday, but she didn't know about Friday. He had a hell of a plan! Her cell phone would be out of commission. The trip up to New York would be misery itself, and with luck she wouldn't be able to blame any of it on him.

While she was getting ready for the trip, he grabbed her cell phone, opened it up and slipped a tiny piece of saran wrap over the battery contacts and closed it. The trick had worked when he tested it the week before, and it worked great now! Dead as a door nail! He dropped it back into her purse.

She came down the stairs looking business like with a solid color sport coat and matching skirt that came to her knees. Asked out o habithow she looked.

"Why very lovely in a nice business-like way!"

The blouse looked funny to him...out of place. He walked over to her and opened her buttoned sport coat. She was wearing a white silk blouse through which he could clearly see a lacy black strapless bra.

"Forgotten the dress code have you? If you can see down it, up it or through it, don't wear it? Have you been wearing this blouse to work? It's a real 'fuck me' blouse!"

He made up a ditty on the spot:

"See my Bra, see my tits!
Next I'll show my nasty bits!

Whoever sees this will know you're hot to fuck. What the hell kind of business are you in these days? Only a slut would wear that in public without her husband!"

She let out a sob and ran back to the bedroom to change. In the car she was quiet, eyes puffy, gazing out the window.

"Seriously, have you worn that blouse to work before?"

"No."

"Then why today?"

"Well, it's New York. They dress up more there."

"For a training program on internet sales analytics? Who else is going to be there that you intended to impress?"

"Just let it go, Chris. I shouldn't have worn it. I didn't mean anything by it...didn't mean anything."

She looked away from Chris and said nothing more. First loosing the diamond in her engagement ring. Then his reaction to her blouse. She realized now she should have changed at the hotel. So late we get so smart! She was sure Chris didn't know why she was really going to New York, but it was stupid to make him suspicious...things going wrong...lost in thought. Remorse for what she was doing on the edge of her conscious, she didn't notice when they passed the exit for the Trenton train station. She was thinking about Roy. She liked the excitement of a lover, but this particular lover, maybe not so much. So maybe he was a starter lover. That's a thought. He's not that good, really, but it at least different and because of that it was exciting. What the hell, they were ten miles past Trenton, entering the NJ turnpike when she looked around and said:

"Where are you going? This isn't the way to the train station!"

He pushed the button on the steering wheel that changed the CD as the song ended.

"Hey, where you been? You're in another world. Trenton was 10 miles back there. What the hell! You're my wife who is precious beyond price to me! I'm driving you to the hotel. Save you all that aggravation dragging your bag here and there. You need to be rested to learn the tricks of your new trade"

Laying the flattery on a bit thick. He was punning on the slang about whores doing tricks for his own benefit. He knew it would go over her head.
She demurred,

"'You don't have to put yourself out, It's OK! I can nap on the train."

...and so on. Meanwhile, Trenton was further and further behind. She fell quiet for a few minutes, and pulled out her cell phone to text Roy that her husband was in tow.
That's when she discovered it was dead.

"Chris! My phone is dead!"

"'Probably had a battery fault. Lucky it didn't catch fire! You can pick up a replacement battery in the city tomorrow. Here, use mine."

as her handed his phone to her.

"I would but I don't know Janet's number. I have it stored in my phone."

"So call 411. Janet Kaship lives in Radnor you said?"

"That'd be her home number! Not her cell."

"Surly whoever answers the phone at her house will know her cell phone number? Or call to your office. Everybody there must have it."

"Aaah? Well never mind, I'll see her there. It doesn't matter."

Chris was thinking'Blessed are those who understand the meaning of things!'I sure understand what's going on here. She didn't want Roy to come rushing out of the bar to greet her, or coming up behind her and grabbing her tits in the lobby. he never met the guy and he hate him, and some of that's rubbing off onto her. And Roy is a secret from the work people too.

Chris had been playing a low stress, mellow CD's in the car. Now she noticed the special CD he had put together. Only cheating woman songs on it. There must be a lot of cheating wives in Texas, as country music seemed to be nothing but he/she/ the dog 'done me wrong' songs. The third song ended with the wife and lover being killed by the husband, her begging forgiveness as she bled out. They were having their effect on Karen, and the stress of the ride, her bowels were turning to water. She asked him to pull into the next rest stop so she could use the john. The rest stop was a few minutes away.

"Sure. You want a coffee?"

"No, I'll just get some water. My stomach is a little upset."

She didn't look so good either. Color off, and a hint of tremors in her arms that she sometimes gets when she's really upset. He got a Starbucks and one of those little biscotti for himself. This was working out just fine.

She took a while. She just about made it to the toilet. One nice thing about diarrhea is it doesn't take long to evacuate. Just relax the sphincter, and let it rip. She washed up, and was going to borrow someone's phone to call information, get the hotel number, then call Roy's room, and warn him. She realized she was getting in earlier than planned, he was coming in later. So there was nothing that needed to be done, or could be done now.

Back on the road, the cheating songs resumed. She sort of winced every now and then when she heard particularly poignant lyrics. She was wishing she could call Roy and tell him not to come. Call the weekend off. Say she was sick, or something. God these songs. Was Chris listening to the words? She was, and it was driving her to the end of her patience. She became restless under the incessant din of the pain of broken relationships, and to delay the inevitable plea to 'Change the damn CD' Chris began humming along with that one by Dr John, "How Come My Dog Don't Bark When You Come Round No More." She was looking pasty faced.

"You feeling OK. You don't look so good!"

"Well, I'm a little off. I may go really light on supper."

"Well, I'll see you to your room then, make sure you're OK."

She protested as best she could, but what the hell, she couldn't reasonably forbid her husband from carrying her bag up. He graciously poo pooed her objections.

When Kenny Rogers tear jerker Lucille came on'Four hungry children and a crop in the field'she had had enough.

"Chris, can't you play something else? Something more upbeat?"

"Sure."

He jumped to the next CD from the sound track of Brother Where Art Thou. She liked that one.

Chris was pleased with himself. He thought he might indeed be giving her the worst time of her life. It probably was too late to change anything. If she had pleaded sickness and told him to turn around and take her home, their marriage might have survived, but she was made of sterner stuff. She soldiered on towards New York and her fate. She leaned back limp in her seat and closed her eyes, trying to compose her thoughts and suppress the fear in her stomach.

They had both been singing along with'Down to the River to Pray.'nice melody but too repetitious for Chris's taste, but she liked it. He always enjoyed her singing; she has a clear, lovely, unpretentious voice, and a happy woman singing to herself around the house it a delight to all.

When "You Are My Sunshine'came on, He sang from the first words and reached out for her hand. She squeezed his hand and joined in. Her dad use to sing the first couple of verses to her and her sister over and over again as his love song to them. It wrenched her out of her funk, filled her with childhood memories of love and safety and comfort. She squeezed his hand again as a silent I love you. They sang in full voice together and her spirits lifted a bit. That is until half way through when they reached the cheating wife verses that her dad didn't sing: