Would You Want to Know?

"Everyone is different. Some people would want to know, no matter what. Others would prefer never to know as long as it was just a one night stand and not an affair. Some people would be compelled to confess because it ate them up; others would rather die than confess," she thoughtfully replied - actually, everything that Joan does is "thoughtful."

Joan got a quirky expression on her face, and then hit me with "I can find out?"

"How could you possibly find out? What, are you going to go to Brad and say 'Bye the bye, would you want to know if Amy cheated on you?'"

"I'm a little more subtle than that," Joan laughed, despite the lack of levity in the situation.

"What, then?"

"Do you trust Rob - I won't identify you but I'll get him to surreptitiously find out, although he might figure it out - he's pretty smart," Joan snickered.

"Pretty smart? What an understatement!" I blurted out, and then thought for a second. "Even if he did figure it out he'd never, ever, tell anyone, so yeah I trust him if asking for his assistance is what you need to do. What are the details?"

"You, I, Melissa and Samantha play golf together a couple of times a year - I'll get Rob to play with Brad and their husbands - maybe on the same day - get a few beers in them and broach the subject. Rob can pull it off without raising any suspicions," Joan replied unconsciously stroking her chin.

"I have no doubt that he could! Go for it! The Saturday after the coming one would be perfect since Brad's parents have been asking to have the kids for a day. See if you can arrange it - I can't be involved," I responded.

"I'll call you tonight or tomorrow, with the information," Joan said. Then she nonchalantly asked "By the way, how was it?" and then raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"You bitch," I playfully snarled. "That's not part of the deal!"

Joan laughed. Then we talked about current events and a charity fundraiser that she wanted me to help with.

Joan called me the night of our luncheon. The kids were already in bed, and Brad was engrossed in a baseball game on TV so he could do without rubbing my feet or ass, or grabbing my tits, for a few minutes while I quietly talked to Joan.

"So soon?" I asked.

"Rob's on board with one caveat - find out the women's perspective on the same issue," she quickly replied.

I paused for a second. "You can do that, can't you Nancy Drew," I chortled.

"Hell yeah - just watch me," she chortled back.

"You won't involve me, will you?" I inquired.

"You'll have to give your opinion, but no way in hell will anyone catch on - trust me," she snickered.

"Go for it, girl," I giggled, and then hung up.

********************

Organization queen that she is, Joan arranged two foursomes at the country club she and Rob belong to on the Saturday I suggested. We had to substitute Kristen and Jim for Samantha and Harry, but that was no biggie. The boys teed off at 8:15 a. m. We teed off at 10:15, so as not to overlap with them at the 19th Green Bar and Grill.

Joan received a phone call after golf and just before we sat down for lunch. She had a brief conversation and then laughed. I gave her a "What's up?" look. She chuckled and mouthed "I'll tell you later."

Joan was a master at bringing up the subject while we were drinking mint juleps and eating turkey club sandwiches at the 19th Green after our golf game. All of us were in good moods. Melissa mentioned something about Gail's upcoming divorce, and Joan was on it like the most subtle pit bull in history.

"I think that if Rob had an affair it would do it for me - he'd be history," Joan mused aloud.

"Especially with the lying," Melissa chimed in.

"Yeah, but here's an interesting question," Joan nonchalantly continued; "what if there was only a one night stand. Would you want to know or remain blissfully ignorant? And if you did know, what would you do about it?"

Melissa and Kristen batted that back and forth, with Joan adding her two cents. Then Kristen looked at me. "What about you, Amy?"

I sipped my drink and then slowly let out my already thought out and well prepared answer. "I'd want to know primarily to assess the threat level, as I've heard that they say in the armed forces. I wouldn't require details, but I would require who. I'd also want to make sure that Brad was truly sorry, and that he expressed a desire to make it up to me, and that it wouldn't happen again."

"What would you do, though?" Mellissa inquired.

"Unless I perceived the threat level to be really high - a red alert so to speak - I would forgive him once he assured me of no repeat, and get on with my life."

"Wouldn't it pain you?" was Joan's pre-planned question.

"Of course, and everyone is different; but in my particular case I consider my relationship with Brad strong enough, and am sure enough of his love - and lust," the last word delivered with a chuckle, "for me that I'd get over it."

The other three chewed on it for another five minutes, and then Joan skillfully segued into a discussion of the upcoming fundraiser for the local women's shelter.

As Joan and I drove home I smiled at her and said "You're a fucking genius!"

"Thank you," she replied with a smile and a short bow, "I thought that it went well and am sure that Rob will not be disappointed."

"What was that call you got just before we sat down?"

"It was from Rob," she replied, then got an evil glint in her eye. "One of the males asked him if he could ask me to get from the women the same information that he got out of the men about one night stands."

"No shit! No shit!" I exclaimed, quite flabbergasted. I asked another question even though I knew the answer. "Will Rob tell you which guy asked?"

"I have more chance of getting the nuclear launch codes than that, sweetie," Joan sarcastically replied.

"I know - thought it couldn't hurt to ask anyway," I sighed.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks," Joan continued, "I'll have the answer to your burning initial question anyway. Want me to call?"

"Despite the fact that it will be burning me up, can you wait and actually meet me for lunch on Monday?"

"If it's your treat," Joan chuckled. Then we went on to other subjects.

***************

I underestimated how strong my curiosity was because much of Saturday night - despite the fact that Rob and I went to a party - and most of Sunday I was thinking about what Rob's reaction to the question of "Would you want to know?" was. It didn't help that on Sunday Rob was acting a little squirrely too.

Monday at lunch finally came. As I hugged Joan when we greeted each other I whispered to her "I'm dying - let me know right away."

She looked at me straight-faced and said "Know what?" and then laughed hysterically when I started sputtering. "You turned completely red," she continued laughing as she slid her fat ass into the booth we were sharing (she doesn't really have a fat ass, but that's what I thought of her at the time for her little joke).

"You're so mean - out with it before I do some cosmetic enhancements on your face with this spoon," I sneered, picking up a utensil from the table.

"All right, all right; don't get your panties in a bunch," she chuckled. "Rob told me that Brad said that unless it was a threat to the marriage - that is unless it could turn into an affair - Brad wouldn't want to know. It would cause him pain for no reason, and unless it would completely salve Amy's conscience it would be of no benefit to either of them, meaning you and him," Joan replied, the mirth gone from her voice.

"Interesting," I thought.

"Anything else you can share?" I inquired, just before the waitress showed up.

"Rob did call the guy who made the inquiry about what the wives thought and told him what his wife said," Joan replied immediately after we ordered lunch.

"Did you tell him what all the wives said?"

"I had to otherwise Rob would have been telling me who it was that made the request, and he would - as you already know - never do that. He won't tell anyone what any of you said," Joan responded.

"I know; I know," I said nodding. "Thanks again, Joan - you're my hero," I smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Still won't tell your hero how good it was?" she snickered with raised eyebrow.

"You pervert" I fake snapped, we both laughed, then we talked about our families and the upcoming fundraiser.

In view of what Brad told Rob, my natural reticence to tell Brad about my one morning stand with Terry was reinforced. This was despite the fact that on Friday night - after the kids were in bed - a sullen looking Brad gave me a shocking opportunity to.

"Uh, Amy - come sit by me," Brad said, holding out his hand as his butt was firmly planted on our largest living room couch, and soft music played in the background.

When I sat next to Brad he had a perplexed look on his face. He started talking while making only intermittent and fleeting eye contact. "I hope that I won't be revealing any confidences when I tell you that Rob told me what you said at the 19th Green on Saturday. I've kept this inside me for a long time, and I can't take it anymore."

"Holy shit!!" repeated itself in my brain one thousand times in a tenth of a second.

"I had a one night stand when we were married. I regret it more than you can know, there is no chance of a repeat, and I'd do anything to take it back."

It took me about thirty seconds to regain my voice; then doing my best Joan interrogation technique I softly asked "When?"

"That week that I was gone for four days a month after you delivered the twins while your Mom and sister were with you; six years ago," he meekly replied, seemingly trying to count the number of loops in the carpet at his feet.

"Who?"

"That's the really bizarre part - it was Gina Stanton," he mumbled, still engrossed in loop counting.

Gina Stanton is a woman he used to work with that he seemingly despised. While even women would have to admit that she had a bodacious body, she was a slut and troublemaker who was fired about three years after the twins were born, and I've been told now lives in a city about two thousand miles away.

"I thought that you despised her?" was my next inquiry after my brain worked enough to formulate another question.

"I did - and do. It was a bizarre situation."

"Tell me," I asked in a gently, non-threatening voice.

"It was Thursday, the night before we flew home. Everyone else had finished their parts of the project, but Gina and I had one part that meshed with both of our responsibilities, so we worked late into the night to get it done so that the client could pick it up Friday morning. She seemed more pleasant than at any time before, although she was wearing one of her uber-slutty outfits. We thought that some beers would relax us as it started getting close to 11:00 p. m., but either she intentionally mis-ordered - we were in her room - or room service screwed it up because a pitcher of marguerites came up instead."

Brad winced, as if in pain, and then continued, still seemingly counting those carpet loops.

"Actually, the first two glasses helped, and we got done by 11:45. Once Gina put everything in a folder for ready pick-up the next morning I started to get up. 'You can't leave unless you help me finish this pitcher," she giggled, pouring me another glass.' Like I said she was being much nicer than normal."

Brad finally looked up and made momentary eye contact, then continued.

"Three or four glasses later, she had her clothes off - she took them off, not me - and was pulling down my pants and sucking my cock. I tried to put her off at first, but we were both - for some reason I can't explain - laughing. We likely - although I can't remember it well - fucked right on the couch and then passed out."

Brad let out a big sigh.

"I could blame what happened so far on drunkenness - not a good reason, but at least an excuse. I don't think that I could blame that for what happened next."

He took one look at me, sighed again, and then soldiered on.

"When we awoke the next morning we both had to pee, her first; when I walked out of the washroom she was still naked and had this devlish look on her face. 'Brad, we were both drunk last night so I didn't get the enjoyment I expected out of fucking you.' Then she curled her little finger at me."

"I told her 'Last night was a mistake - I cheated and I feel like hell about it. Never again.' Then she said 'I know that you don't like me Brad, but have you ever known me to lie?' That threw me back. I thought about it. In fact, despite her sluttiness and normally difficult demeanor, she was scrupulously honest. When I told her 'No, I haven't known you to lie,' she nailed me."

"Nailed you?" I blurted out. Brad didn't look at me, he just sighed.

"Yeah - she said 'What I'm telling you now is the truth. You and I are going into that bedroom, you're going to fuck the shit out of me giving your all, and then no one - I mean no one - ever hears of this. If you don't then Amy - new mother Amy - gets a copy of the audio tape from last night.' With that she sauntered into the bedroom. I thought long and hard about it; I didn't know if she had an audio tape, or if she'd even need one if she was going to tell you; so then I made the decision to follow her. I fucked her, she was true to her word, and until now no one has hear about this."

"What position did you fuck her in?" I asked, surprising myself.

"I...I...really don't want to give details," Brad groaned, seemingly on the verge of tears.

"I need to know a few more things - what position, Brad," I continued, not harshly, but firmly.

"Doggy," was his abject reply.

"Was she satisfied?"

"If she wasn't you would have heard about this from her a long time ago," he almost inaudibly mumbled. Then he suddenly got spry. He stared directly into my eyes and said "I love you, and only you, Amy. There is no chance for a repeat with anyone, and I'll never, ever, have an affair; and whatever you want me to do to make up for this I will."

"This has been eating at you for six years Brad?" I asked, truly surprised.

"On, and off; yes - brought to a head by my conversation with Rob on Saturday."

I paused, making eye contact with him for a long while, then said. "We'll work this out."

Then I snuggled up to him and he turned on the TV - I can't tell you what we watched for the next ninety minutes before we went to bed, and he probably can't either.

Many women in my position would have responded to Brad's admission one of two ways. They would have gone ballistic, even though that would have been irrational and hypocritical given the circumstances, or they would have admitted to their one night stand too, and sought mutual forgiveness. I did neither; not then, not ever.

Brad and I didn't have sex that night, or during the weekend; we mostly did things with the kids, and watched movies when they went to bed. Brad oftentimes would look in my direction. There was pain in his eyes - there was pain in my heart.

I was surprised, given my similar fall off the train, especially since I had physically very much enjoyed the experience and Terry's words were a significant boost to my ego, that I felt as much pain as I did. Despite the fact that I'm a super confident person, I agonized about my sexuality and desirability on and off for days. Finally, I worked everything out in my mind. There is no way that I would put Brad to the self-doubt and pain with my revelation that he had me with his. This was especially so given the fact that he told Rob that he wouldn't want to hear about a non-threatening one night stand, and given that I didn't need to confess to purge my conscience. I also completely understood his situation and wanted life back to normal as soon as possible.

After the kids went to bed on Friday, a week after Brad laid his bomb on me, I snuggled up to him. In my most sultry voice, as I reached into his shirt and curled his chest hair, I said "Brad, I love you with all my heart, and I know that you love me the same way. I never want to be with anyone else. I understand your situation, and to the extent that any forgiveness is necessary, I forgive you. Now..." and with that I got on my knees, fished his hardening cock out of his pants, and started sucking.

Five minutes later I was trying to strangle the cum out of his cock with my pussy muscles as I gyrated on top of him and he alternated between sucking and massaging my tits. By Monday morning, six fucks later, things were 100% back to normal.

I virtually never think about Brad's tryst, and rarely thing of mine. About the only time that I do is if the kids are bitchy in the morning, or a car almost splashes me in the rain. Then I think for a second about likely the sixth best sexual encounter of my life, and being called a "goddess." Then I get on with my day with a smile on my face.