However, the old saying that blood is thicker than water kicks in, big time, and suddenly all of Abby's family, every freaking one of them, starts with their character assassination of Sharon. God forbid I ever get in that situation because I'm a far lesser person in most ways than Sharon, and assassinating my character would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
So Abby truly believes, because of her family thing going on here, which must somehow trump the sisterhood, that Sharon is at fault for some reasons that seem pretty obscure to me, but not to her or her family. There was even one occasion, a family deal, when Sharon got drunk, which is not unusual for her or any of the family, them being Irish Catholics after all, which is fine by me, because I like that side, i.e. the drinking side of the family because I like to drink too, but anyway Abby seemed to be pointing out that Sharon was drunk and therefore the breakup was her fault.
Now, help me out here, but is it unreasonable to think that Sharon was drunk, partly at least, because Bobby had left her for a younger woman, at least I think she is younger, and Bobby's life was pretty good right now with a new high rise condo and the younger woman, and Sharon got the old house and still had one of the kids to get through high school? Oh, did I tell you they are not divorced? I'm not real clear as to why, but maybe they are doing their own version of the open marriage gambit and I'm not going to criticize that path.
I'm not choosing sides here. I like the chosen one and I like Sharon. They are both pretty awesome people. In fact all of Abby's family is awesome. But their respective spouses are also awesome. And remember, I'm in that group, so I have to, at times, stick up for the spouses lest the gang of seven attack any of us.
My point in all of this is that Abby sees the world in a black and white mode with no shades of gray. I think I've said that before. Sorry. And I'm sorry that I seem to be picking on Abby here. I'd just like her to see that maybe Sharon wasn't the bad guy, excuse me, girl, here. At least Abby is able, in this one circumstance, to find a woman at fault, which may be a breakthrough, of sorts. And the thought flashes through my brain that if Abby doesn't stop giving me so much grief, I'm going to turn her in to the sisterhood.
Chapter 23: What to Do About Kim
So back to Kim and me in my, condo. Excuse me, Abby's condo. Kim thinks her marriage is ruined and I think it's not, but I'm not saying that, to her, at this point.
I'm just not sure how this whole thing is going to play out. I remind myself that I only have power over my own actions and thoughts and emotions. How everybody else reacts is up to them. It would be a shame, I thought, if for some reason Abby wanted to divorce me. But I can't really see that in the cards. Why would she? She obviously can go out and do other men, or at least Dewayne, and then come home to me and keep it all together. So why ruin a good thing? My only counter, to myself, along those lines, is that she might want to live with Dewayne. And that's only going to be possible if Kim kicks him to the curb, so I realize I have a huge incentive to try and make Kim see that she and Dewayne have to make the marriage work.
At this point I'm just feeling tired of the whole thing. Why can't we all act like adults, realize that lust is a powerful part of our creature hood, and just stop sweating the details. Let's all be nice to each other. But, alas, people just don't seem to be ready for that. At least the three people other than me involved in this situation aren't ready for that. I need a drink, but it's only midday and my rule is not before 5pm, and 4:30pm on Sunday.
I suddenly get an inspiration and I blurt out to Kim, "Kim, do you want to hear what I think about all of this?" She's pretty tired and drained emotionally and I guess I'm catching her off guard, and I think she'd probably rather listen than talk at this point, so she says "sure."
Ok, now here's my chance to educate her about the ways of an open marriage. To turn her into a polyamorist. But I know I'm going to have to do this gradually. Very, very gradually. One thing I know is that I can talk about something that I am passionate about for a long, long time.
So Kim, I say. Soooooo. Just for emphasis. Just to try and get my thoughts collected. Just to try and begin.
Here's the gist of what I said, not verbatim, but real close.
"Kim, Abby and I have been together for twenty four years and most of it has been great. We both believe in the institution of marriage and it has worked well for us. I, personally, am probably not as upset about this situation as you are, for a lot of reasons, and they are complicated. Even after twenty four years, I'm still finding out things I don't know about Abby. I've never tried to control her actions or thoughts or really anything about her. She pretty much does her own thing and I do mine and that works well for both of us."
I wasn't sure how it was going because I wasn't getting any verbal or visual feedback from Kim. Kind of like talking to a sack of potatoes, so far, even though I knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
Back to my discussion.
"It's pretty obvious that Dewayne and Abby needed or wanted something from each other that they weren't getting from us."
Now I noticed an increased alertness on her part. Was it surprise? Anger? Defensiveness? It was like something inside her was stirring. This could either be a good thing or a bad thing. Probably bad, I feared.
Then I said "I know that sounds harsh, but from everything I read, that's what affairs are all about."
Now there was a definite quizzical look on her face. Something that might be construed as an opening, so I continued.
"Kim, I don't pretend to understand everything about this, but I am willing to take a long and deep look at it and see what can be done to mend the situation so we can all get on with our lives without this ruining anything."
That was my summation. I think I did a pretty darn good job with that last sentence. Take the word mend. I was reluctant in using it because mend generally means something has gone wrong, and as you know, I don't believe anything that occurred was wrong. But in using it, I threw her a bone, letting her believe that I also was aggrieved. I hated to lie, but our perceptions were so far apart, I thought I needed to at least let her know, or think is more accurate, that I cared that my wife was getting poked by her beloved.
Now consider 'getting on with our lives' which is definitely positive and it trumps the negative of 'ruining'. I wanted to let her know, in essence, that just because Dewayne stuck his dick in possibly all three of my wife's orifices, it was not something I couldn't get over.
Chapter 24: The Little Man in My Brain Kicks up the Volume
Isn't it funny how, once you know your spouse is cheating, that you go back in time and try to re-examine events.
That's pretty absurd what I just said.
Number one, it's probably not funny to most people at all, because they are most likely terribly distraught, as they are programmed to be. Number two, how the fuck do I know what most people think when they find out their spouse is cheating?
I guess I should just stick to what I was doing and feeling and thinking, and not try and guess how normal people think.
The little man in my brain is always there. Doesn't that fucker ever sleep or go on vacation? I just had a flash. How do I know he's a man and not a woman? I never thought about that before. I just listen because I really don't have a choice. The voice comes and I hear it. Sometimes I ignore it, but I can't stop it from coming.
So the voice, says to me, when and where did they do it? Good question I respond. Hmmm. I tell the voice, or myself, that I'm really not so concerned with when and where but with how, how long, which orifice/s, did she cum hard, or harder than she does with me, was his cock bigger than mine, was he on top, did she swallow, and things of that nature. Things I tell myself any aggrieved hubby would want to know, in as much detail as possible.
My next thought is will Abby still want to fuck me. Then, is she going to want to share with me the grimy and dirty details, hopefully leading up to and during our future lovemaking. I think probably not, alas, as she's not that verbal in bed. Then t
he little man asks me if I think she was a lot more verbal with her younger lover, and my answer is, hopefully.
There are, no doubt, those of you who see a certain, if not profound, sickness in all of this. Maybe that could better be phrased as a sickness in me instead of all of this. I definitely accept the possibility that my abhorrence to melting into the norms of society, i.e. joining the Rotary club, running for city council, going to church, singing in the choir, and so on, may have moved me to the fringes of what can be called normal or sane.
However in my defense, I don't drink and drive, I don't cheat, even in golf, I don't have any sexual desires for anyone aged under about twenty, I don't have ill feelings toward anyone except liars and thieves and bullies. So, all in all, I don't see that wanting to know all the details of my wife's affair is something that necessitates time on the shrink's couch, not that I would be hesitant to share with him, or better yet, her, these lurid fantasies.
Chapter 25: Kim Responds
Back to Kim, on Abby's couch, with me on mine. I have just told her, gently, subtly, hidden in layers of deceit, that I am ok with Abby and Dewayne fucking each other's brains out. Now I'm wondering if I have penetrated, I like using that word, her inner psyche and perhaps we have linked our souls into a oneness that will allow us to get on with our lives, hopefully in a more intimate manner.
No such fucking luck.
So Kim says, "You seem to be saying that you think it's ok for your wife to fuck my husband?"
I like her tone. And I especially like the 'your wife to fuck my husband' structure of her thought process. I was kind of waiting for that. So, now she has revealed some of her cards. Abby is the bitch cunt whore responsible for leading her faithful hubby into the realms of deceit and ruination. Nice. We're making progress.
At this juncture I have a definite choice. I can either act like the weasel slash worm slash lowlife that I can be at times, or I can step up the plate and try even harder to penetrate her psyche and move her, hopefully, to the open marriage camp.
I surprise myself by taking the latter, more honest, path and here is about how it went.
"Kim, if you look hard and deep at this, you have to admit that both of our spouses, and we too, have had other sexual partners before we were married."
I was very tempted at this point to add, "Is there really such a big distinction between them, i.e. our spouses, having sex before marriage and now that we are married?" But, since I knew she was looking for any cracks in my armor, that would have provided her all the ammunition she needed to know in her heart and mind and soul that Abby and I were two very fucked up individuals and that I was in collusion with Abby in this affair which I wasn't initially at least, I didn't add that.
This is the point where I wanted Kim to throw me a bone and start to at least soften her position and open her mind, at least, if not her marriage, or better yet her legs. I know, the legs bit wasn't necessary, sorry.
Kim was waiting for me to elaborate about having sexual partners before marriage, but I figured it was her turn and since she didn't say anything, I asked her to give me her thoughts at this point.
I said something to the effect, "Kim, you said your marriage was ruined. Do you really believe that?" Of course I was signaling that I certainly didn't believe it and I was willing to forgive my bitch cunt whore wife. In a micro second, I thought, but didn't say it. I hope, no I know, that you are getting it that there is nothing to forgive here, in my own twisted way of thinking.
I haven't done a digression in a while so here goes. Abby and I can say cunt or bitch or whore and a whole lot worse things, and we do, to each other, mostly at cocktail hour, because we both know that they are only words and we say them, sometimes to diffuse some anger, or make a point, or just to try and be funny, and it works. All the while I'm usually sitting there thinking how pretty she is and how much I'd like to fuck her more often, and most people think she is just some sweet little girl, when in fact she is the most foul mouthed cunt I know. And I love her for that. And also, she calls me a dick and a lot worse things and it just bounces off me, like water off a duck's back, most of the time, at least.
So being the non misogynist, radical feminist that I am, and I'm being totally honest here, I can, and do, call a cunt a cunt, when necessary, which is not that often, but it does happen, but only when I'm talking to Abby or Frank. When Lara and I were together, electronically, we talked a lot about cunts, specifically hers, and what she liked done to it, which meshed, I must say, perfectly, with what I wanted to do to it, and she said, the first time I used the word cunt, that she wasn't offended by it, which meant that she was offended, slightly I guess, but she did a very quick shift, given the circumstances of knowing me and my non misogyny, as she did, early on.
We didn't go into the difference between calling her vagina a cunt and calling a woman a cunt, but I'm guessing that if we had gotten deeper into our relationship, it would have no doubt come up, and I'm pretty sure she would have gotten on the 'she is a cunt' bandwagon, balanced of course by 'he is a dick', when we were referencing particularly egregious people of either gender.
Now that I've cleared the air regarding cunt and dick, I've forgotten where I was so let me go back and look. Oh yes, I wanted Kim to start giving me a glimpse into her soul for a host of reasons, some obviously to help heal this situation, and some, as you can glean, of a more personal and lustful nature.
Kim, as I had hoped, was backing off from the ruined marriage line. She said, "I'm just really devastated." Progress. Major progress. You can drive a Mack truck between ruined and devastated.
I wanted to hear more. A lot more. So I just sat there determined to let her try and make some more progress.
"I just don't know what I'm feeling right now," she said. "I'm so fucking mad."
Damn, we are making major headway here. The difference between devastated and fucking mad is huge compared to the difference between ruined and devastated. This is going well.
"Well," I said, violating my own rule about letting her do the talking, "sometimes anger can be cleansing." I instantly regretted saying that.
You fucking idiot, George.
'Anger can be cleansing'. How fucking trite. How fucking dangerous. I'm sitting on a precipice between being consoling and being in some twisted allegiance with my cunt wife regarding seducing her husband, and I try and diffuse her anger by calling it cleansing? Smart move, George.
Sometimes people surprise you. Kim sure did when she said, "I never thought of it that way."
Chapter 26: Major Fight with Abby
Well, fight is not totally correct. A major discussion about her black and white view of the world, or at least my perception of her black and white view, would be more accurate. The circumstances are not really important here, but basically she was ragging on some guy. It's pointless at this advanced stage in our marriage to point out to her that her ragging is almost always against a guy and never a woman, so I don't. I do however, point out that the person she is ragging on has a lot of good qualities, and then I use my tired, at this point, refrain that I wish she would see the shades of gray.
She, on cue, launches into a long and somewhat annoying refrain about how she has the right, no, the obligation, to point out certain things about people we both know and have somewhat of a place in our lives, and that her discussion is private to me and her and will never go beyond that, and that if I was a really good and thoughtful husband, I would understand that and back off and listen to her. How the fuck can you respond to that? Yes, the tree did fall, and I'm wrong.
So I suggested that we go watch Cash Cab, pointing out that it was one of the few points of mutual interest in our marriage, and it was one point over which we never argued. My not so subtle dig into the quality and depth of our marriage, by that comment, which I swear I did say and not just think, did have the desired effect of soliciting a wry smile on her face, and an agreement to do just that, i.e. watch Cash Cab, and I knew in my heart that we were inexo
rably linked in a way that would probably confound at least, but more likely deeply disturb, most trained professionals.
When we sat down to dinner, her on her couch, eating steamed broccoli and a salad with shrimp, and me on my couch, with the inferior view, eating smoked chicken pasta, drinking my third, or was it fourth?, glass of wine, watching Cash Cab After Dark, which is much better than regular Cash Cab, because the amounts are doubled, and New York City is so much more interesting at night, I reached out my hand to Abby and she squeezed it, and I told her I loved her and that I respected her, and she said the same, and I truly believed that she at least loved me.
Chapter 27: Filling In Some Blanks
You've probably come to at least be ok with my jumping around in time. If you're young and your mind is nimble, then it might even be interesting, but if you're old and less flexible mentally, I hope that I've made things simple enough, with a limited number of people to remember, adding sufficient redundancy, so that you can deal with it without being annoyed or confused.
You're no doubt waiting to hear about how Abby and I have broached, or have not broached, as is the case, the subject of Dewayne and their affair. I mean, really, don't I have a right, an obligation, to confront her and demand to know the details? How? Why? When? Where? What positions?
Well, that discussion never happened. At least it hasn't happened yet. Life is back to normal, i.e. she is a bitch at times, I'm a dick at times, but we generally get along and treat each other with kindness and respect. At least on my part. As far as our sex life is concerned, it's about normal. But as we all know, normal is a relative term.
I'm George, mwm, 52 Page 7
