Back to Bristol Ch. 10byGaryAPB©
"Because I didn't understand my own feelings. I thought I loved you so much. I now realise that I did love you, that I do love you so much. But back then, all I could think about was that if I loved you so much, then how did I let this happen? What sort of person was I that professed my love, but had sex with another man? I knew that at that moment with Peter, I wanted him to fuck me. I wasn't drugged or seduced, I wanted it. What sort of wife and mother does that make me? That's why I couldn't say I loved you, I really was doubting all I'd ever felt."
"Why did you let me leave on the Monday? With the right words, I would have stayed. Instead you just went on about what a great guy Peter was and how you only thought you had loved me. I really thought you had fallen for him."
"I think I knew at the time that I'd got that one wrong. I just wanted you to love me, to hold me, to tell me it would be alright. I was so scared that you'd see me for what I thought I might be, a slut. How could I say that your wife went to bed with any old Tom Dick or Harry when the mood struck her. I had to tell you that, whatever I was, I did it with a decent man. And it wasn't his fault. I didn't want you doing anything stupidly macho against Peter. As I said at the beginning, he is a really nice guy."
"But you went on seeing him."
"Not really, not then. I told you, I'd sent him away."
"But when I came back to see you on the Sunday, you were going on again about what a great guy he was, and said you'd seen him twice in that week as well."
"Yes. Yes, I had. After you left, I confessed everything to Susan. She was my lifeline, she let me talk and talk. She took care of the boys. She did everything. On the Wednesday, she even came in to see me at the Hospital. We had lunch together. And Peter came and sat with us. I couldn't make a scene and send him away. But really he talked to Susan, about how he understood my problem, about how he wanted to help. Susan lapped it up, she was very impressed by him, which isn't surprising because he can be very charming. Afterwards she said I was probably being very cruel to him, and that I should let him meet me and say his piece, so I met him on Friday for lunch in my office. Just sandwiches. So, by Sunday, I'd met him twice."
"And what did he say?"
"That he thought he loved me. That he was going to woo me. And a lot of things about how I couldn't really love you, otherwise I wouldn't have done what I did. That he and I had something special, something magical. That if he was you, he wouldn't have run away and left me. That I shouldn't chase after you, that you had to have time to get over it, and that if you didn't come back of your own free will, well I could take a message from that. And that he'd be there for me."
"And what did Susan say?"
"Much the same really on how to deal with you. Different words, but that I had to give you time. It was up to you to take me back or not."
"And what did you feel?"
"I don't really know. There was some truth in what they were saying. I knew you had every right to divorce me. I had no defence. I was an immoral, adulterous wife. If you couldn't accept that, then you had every right to divorce me. But I cried so much when the divorce papers arrived."
"Why didn't you just come to me and say you were sorry, and beg forgiveness?"
She looked puzzled for a moment, "But I thought I did say I was sorry. I certainly was sorry. I was sorry for so many things. For the hurt I'd caused you. For the disruption that I caused Jamie and Ben. For the shame I caused Susan and Ralph. You name it, I thought of it all, and I was sorry every time."
"I know. You said sorry for so many specific things, so many aspects of it. But you never said you were sorry for going to bed with him, for the adultery. I just felt that I wanted to hear you say sorry for what you did, not sorry for the consequences of what you did. I hated that you didn't feel sorry for going to bed with him."
She thought about that, and she obviously saw my point, "You're right. I don't think I ever did say I was sorry for the actual act of betrayal itself. I am, I was then. So sorry. I still wish, every day, that I hadn't done it. I am sorry that I ever allowed myself to be tempted, and to succumbing. I really am."
"Now I know you are. But I didn't then. I could only assume that you weren't sorry for going to bed with a man you'd fallen in love with, that you were only sorry for some of the side effects. And the forgiveness?"
"I thought about that one. I thought about it a lot. But surely, to ask for forgiveness, someone has to have some hope, there has to be some thought that whatever they did they could be forgiven for it? I could see no possible excuse for what I did. It was wrong. It was treacherous. It was evil. And I should have known better. I couldn't ask you to forgive that. I respected you too much for that."
"I think you were wrong, but I understand what you're saying. Did you talk to anybody else? What about Ralph?"
"Susan said she would talk to Ralph. I did talk to him a couple of times, I think he knew how much I loved you. But he said it would be wrong of him to interfere. He'd talked to Susan about it, and you and I had to find our own way out of the mess. I tried talking to Ginny at work, but she was scathing, I remember her saying that she couldn't see why I was so surprised that you'd walked out when I confessed. She called me a cheating bitch, and left me sitting in the coffee lounge."
"Did she have her own agenda?"
"Maybe. I know she was a divorcee."
"So you let me just go forward with the divorce?"
"What could I do to stop you? You were so angry, so hurt. I didn't blame you. It was all my fault. I deserved it."
"He was awfully sweet. He did what he said he was going to do. He wooed me. He sent me flowers, he was there to talk to. He seemed to understand what I was going through. And he constantly declared his love for me. And I think he really did love me. He still does."
"So why did you come to that awful flat that night? No, before that, you'd written to me to say that you were going to marry Peter. Why?"
She gave a forlorn smile, "As I said, Peter was always pledging his love. I began to wonder, if my love for you had failed me, maybe it was because Peter did mean something special to me. I didn't feel that I loved him, but maybe it was what was meant to be. You have to remember just how broken I was at that time, I wasn't thinking straight. And then we were arguing about money and housing. And you didn't deserve to be saddled with a huge mortgage payment every month on top of what you were paying for the boys, that wasn't fair to you. And Peter was saying that he wanted to marry me, and that he'd buy a house where we could all live. He happily accepted the boys, he probably knew that we came as a packaged deal. He proposed but I hadn't accepted. It was just before he went away to some conference over in Harvard, and when he was away I came up with the idea of writing to you to say that I wished we could find some way forward together. I did put in that he had proposed, and I hinted that I was thinking of marrying Peter, to jolt you out of your hurt, to make you reconsider things. That was Susan's idea as one last desperate roll of the dice, but it didn't work."
"It was obvious that it wouldn't work. What were you thinking? It was plain stupid and it broke my heart. Any dream I had that you would be over this obsession with Peter was shattered."
"I wasn't obsessed by Peter."
"It seemed as if you were to me."
"I'm sorry. Anyway, at about that time, Ralph thought that enough was enough. He brought me down to see you. He insisted. Susan really had a go at him about interfering, but he insisted. And when I saw you, I could still see how hurt and lost you were, and all I wanted was for you to take me in your arms and hold me. I know I couldn't find the words, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But before I could say anything, you'd turned your back on me. Ralph says it was a good three or four minutes. It seemed like a couple of seconds to me. Ideas for words kept rushing through my mind, but nothing seemed right. There was nothing I could think of to say that could take away that I'd had sex with another man. And then you turned your back."
"I went in doors." I paused "You always used to say I wasn't in touch with my inner self. That I was far too much a Typical Man. But if only you'd pushed that door open, you would have found me on the stairs very much in touch with my emotional self. I tried going up to my flat, but I broke down and cried my eyes out on the stairs. Every last hope I had that you would give up Peter and come back to me had just died. I didn't even know if I'd ever see my sons again at that moment. Everything was lost. I've been pretty low in my life, mainly through drink, sometimes through shame of how I treated some woman, but nothing, nothing compares to how low I felt that evening."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That's all I seem to be able to say this afternoon. Ralph told me on Wednesday what happened. I think that's when he decided to set this up. It was set up, you know. I thought you'd collected the boys before lunch. I was just coming round here to chat to Ralph and help in the garden a bit. I was surprised when I saw your car here."
"I think he knows more than he is letting on. I think he began to realise the truth last Sunday."
"I don't know. I think there was a bit of a hiatus, because Aunty Brenda got problems down in Weymouth apparently, and Susan's had to chase off down there. I think that was either Sunday or Monday."
"Well, they were having a real row on Sunday evening."
"Probably about Aunty Brenda or Uncle Derek. Ralph isn't that fond of either of them."
"Probably." I paused, and then asked, "But I still don't understand why you actually married Peter."
"Partly because it made sense. He would provide a home for us. And I was lost, I was just drifting. But mainly because I really did begin to believe that it was meant to be. That he had something special for me. I knew I didn't love him, but I thought that maybe once I was over you then maybe I would. I never have. He's nice, I like him, I respect him, but I don't love him. If I never see him again, it wouldn't worry me. I love you, I always have."
"But how could you, you of all people, you who is always so loving and passionate, how could you make a marriage to Peter work?"
Just then there was a knock at the door, we didn't answer, but we waited. Cautiously, the door opened and Ralph came in, carrying a fresh tea tray. "I thought you might like a cup of tea. You might need it."
He put it down on the coffee table, and as he bent over, he looked me in the eyes.
I said, "John, 11:35"
He smiled, "He would have if he'd had Molly as an ex-wife."
I laughed. And it helped me to laugh, I felt some of the tension leave my body.
Although it was broad daylight, he went round the room, turning on the lamps and drawing the curtains. We watched him, but didn't say anything.
Then Molly asked, "Where are Jamie and Ben?"
"Enjoying themselves and quite safe. Don't worry about them. Worry about yourselves." He was just going out of the room, and he took the key from the outside and put it on the inside. "If you want to be sure of your privacy, then there you are."
And we were alone again. We both stared at the door, watching him go.
Molly turned and asked, "What was that about having me as an ex-wife?"
"John 11:35. Jesus wept."
She smiled, and quietly said, "I guess he would have."
Molly poured two cups of tea. And without anything being said, we sipped them. They tasted so good. The lump in my throat seemed to subside a little. I felt refreshed.
Suddenly, Molly stood up, went over to the door and locked it. "Ralph's right. This is, in part, about sex." And she started to undress. No sexy striptease, she just pulled her jumper over her head, slipped out of her jeans, unhooked her bra, pushed her panties down her legs and slipped off her socks as she stepped out of the panties.
She stood up in front of me, quite naked. Her body was different to how I remembered it. It was older, but it was fitter. The filling out of her hips was gone, probably no more than an inch either way, but I noticed. Her breasts were tighter, maybe her nipples a little lighter in colour. Maybe it was my memory, but she looked good to me, and I felt my cock twitch. Actually, that surprised me, I thought I was way beyond any sexual response this afternoon.
I also immediately noticed that she had a very full bush. My mind went back to Myra. Don't tell me Peter was a hair enthusiast as well. Is it the latest sexual trend, and I've missed it?
She brought me back to the present, "Stop looking at my pussy for a moment, and look at my lips. The lips on my mouth, before you make a smart reply."
I raised my eyes.
"See my lips? I promise you, they have never ever touched Peter's cock. Oh, he wanted me to, but I always refused. Somehow, I never wanted to do anything sexual with him. I wanted the marriage to work, I committed myself to that, but somehow I had a double standard. It isn't logical, and it certainly wasn't fair to Peter, but I explained it away to myself, and I've lived with it for four years."
I was interested. Actually I was fascinated, this didn't make sense. "OK. Explain."
"I didn't love Peter, but I took him as my husband, and I wanted the marriage to work. I'd lost you through my own foolishness. Well to save my self-respect, I had to be a good wife the second time round. So, I never refused him sex. Ever. Actually, that's not quite true, I always refused him sex until the Decree Absolute on our marriage was declared. I wasn't going to betray you a second time for as long as I was married to you. But after that I never refused him. But, I didn't want sex with him, he wasn't you. So, somewhere in my twisted logic, I adopted a slogan: you get what you pay for."
"I don't follow."
"I told you, on that Thursday afternoon in his flat, we did it missionary position and then I rode him. Well, for four years, that's all we've ever done. I've never sucked him. There's certainly been no anal, and not even doggy-style. And it was always only in the bedroom. I did allow only two other things, he could play with and suck my breasts, and I allowed him to perform oral on me. In fact I preferred him to do that."
"Sounds a bit limited. That's not you at all. You loved our great sex life."
She knelt down on the floor again, "I loved a great sex life with you. Any time Peter asked for anything else I would refuse. I didn't want to do that, whatever it was. And if he pressed me, well I could always say 'Chris never made me do that' which was true. You never made me do any of it, I loved it and wanted to do it with you. He hated that comment, it would guarantee in the early years that he would spend the night in the spare room, he would storm off, upset. In the later years, he got wise to it, and would just go to bed on his side, with his back to me."
"Was he a good lover?"
"I don't know. He never turned me on. He only made me cum once, that time in his flat. After that, I was always thinking of you, and he couldn't make it happen."
"Surely, you haven't gone four years without an orgasm? You need them to just be healthy, to keep yourself sane. And you, of all people, used to be very good at them."
"Oh, No. I didn't say I haven't had an orgasm. Once I realised the problem, and that I was thinking about you, well I turned that to my advantage. I'd go off into fantasy-land, and it would be you making love to me. We've made love in the dunes of soft white sand and in the shade of the palm trees. We've done it in the snow on the top of mountains. We've done it on hotel balconies. You name it, and we've done it, there in my fantasy-land. You've worn leather and chained me to the bed and ravished me. I've chained you to the bed, but that didn't work, even in my dreams, because it meant you couldn't put your arms around me and hold me, and I've always wanted that."
"I'm not sure what to say."
"I'd only dream like that once or twice a month, I used to ration myself. Otherwise, I'd just lie there, make appropriate noises, and wait for him to get off. That's why I liked letting him do oral on me, then he'd disappear out of sight, and I could dream all about you, and I could have an orgasm. I liked that."
"Didn't he ever catch on? Mind you, it would have been so humiliating for him to know."
"I don't think so. I guess his ego stopped him thinking that. Doesn't every man think himself the great lover?"
"But some of us know we are." I said smiling. Then a thought struck me, "When I was there that Friday afternoon a few weeks ago, he said you hadn't worn that thong for him. You used to love sexy lingerie. And please explain that afternoon, because I've been wondering what happened."
"For you, yes I did love to dress up. I like being naked in front of you right now. It seems right somehow. But you're back to the 'you get what you pay for' theory. That afternoon at his flat I didn't have any sexy lingerie on. I had a plain pair of cotton panties and a bra that didn't match. You know how I dressed for an ordinary work day. Well that's what he bought, so that's what he got. I refused to wear any of the sexy stuff he bought me, and he bought me quite a lot, as he tried to get me to loosen up and enjoy things more, as he used to put it."
I just shook my head in amazement. I'm surprised they weren't in the divorce court long before this. "I am surprised he put up with it. Didn't he ever know anything of what we did? How free you were with me, how passionate you were?"
"No. I actually think that he thought that my lack of interest in sex was possibly at the bottom of why you left me, given the opportunity. And he loved me, so he was learning from your mistakes, and wasn't going to give up. He was always trying to tempt me to try something new."
"I saw you looking. I haven't shaved myself in three years. If you remember I used to keep myself fairly neat and tidy down there, maybe a little neater in summer than winter. Well, I continued like that for the first year. But then Peter came up with the idea of shaving me, just to a landing strip he called it. Well I didn't have a landing strip on that Thursday at his flat, and I wasn't going to have one then. After that I stopped shaving completely. I hadn't shaved for you or him that Thursday morning, so no more shaving. He hadn't bought that.."
"Did you see yourself as bought and paid for. That's demeaning."
"Well, I guess I felt demeaned, but No. I saw myself as a stupid woman that had lost the best thing that ever happened to me, and had drifted into an even more stupid situation. But, please, don't think my marriage to Peter was some horrid war. It wasn't. I really did try to be a good wife to him. I might have limited the type of sex we had, but I never refused him in frequency. He was a four of five times a week man at the beginning. Even towards the end, and he must have lost some interest with my attitude as it was, it was still a couple of times a week. And in all other respects, I really did try to be the good wife. I entertained his friends, gave dinner parties, supported him in his work. I really tried to share his life, and to share mine with him. I always thought that if I kept at it, one day I'd be happy. I wasn't unhappy, I was just never happy."
There was a pause, as I ran out of questions for the moment. Then Molly stood up, and posed provocatively in front of me. I looked at her, and my mind and cock responded. Even with all the other things I was feeling and thinking, she could still turn me on.