My Cheating Wife

by Jaime Thorne

  In bed

  She said in response, following it up quickly with:

  With my husband

  An interesting statement that, one that I couldn't really interpret. Of course she would be in bed with her husband. Of course he would be lying next to her.

  Why had she clarified?

  Was that her way of telling me to drop this? Was that her way of reminding me that we were crossing a line? Was I supposed to care?

  I did. At this point I was feeling so bad about everything that I'd done that of course I cared that she was in that room with her husband. Of course I didn't want to have her cross the line.

  But it wasn't supposed to be me in charge anymore. I was supposed to be an asshole here, supposed to drive her away for her own good.

  So what would an asshole ask?

  What are you wearing?

  In the moments after sending it and before the response I found myself wondering about it. I found myself closing my eyes and picturing her lying in bed.

  I'd been with Avril so many times that I had memorized her body. I could see it if I gave even a moments thought to it, every single gorgeous inch of it.

  What do you want me to be wearing?

  My response was honest and sincere. Pushing for more at the same time while setting out my expectations. I found myself falling into line with the asshole texting her, both of us searching for the same end.

  Nothing at all

  I didn't move as I waited for a response. Waited to see whether this would be enough. Whether she would be angry with me for pushing and presuming and whether that anger would be enough to stop this.

  Of course it wouldn't be enough.

  Then that is what I'm wearing

  I'd need to press farther. I'd need to push her to break the rules right there with him. I'd need to push her right up to the line in order to have her quail and withdraw. I'd need to scare her for her own good.

  Good, send me a picture

  On its surface a ridiculous request. We weren't young anymore. We were older and we were married and this was crossing the line. Not only were we leaving all sorts of evidence on our phones, but we were also taking the act of our infidelity out into the open. Right there in front of him.

  But to my surprise that didn't stop her.

  I got a picture. A picture that was a shock of white skin and darkness surrounding it. A picture that was barely visible but just visible enough to give you the idea of an image.

  The swell of a breast, the thrust of a hip, the curve of a smile lit by the small rectangle of light from her phone screen.

  I was hard in an instant and what I did next, well I don't honestly know whether or not it was an act.

  Too dark. take one with a light on

  If she hadn't crossed a line before then this was surely over it. This was just asking for trouble, asking for her to break a rule and get caught.

  This would ruin her, and I had every expectation that she would refuse because of course any reasonable person would refuse.

  I can't he might wake up

  But I was driven by need now. I was driven by passion and desire and that craving to see more. More than I'd ever felt before. More than I'd ever felt with her I needed to see this. I didn't give a damn about the excuses.

  Don't care. Want to see you.

  I found myself breathing hard, found my hand unbuckling my pants and shoving them down. I stroked myself while I waited, flicking up and opening the image of her in the meantime until my phone buzzed with her response.

  Let me go to another room

  It wasn't just about the picture. It was about the act. It was about the exposure and about all of it happening right in front of him. That was a part of it for me, pushing the boundaries and the lines until we found our pleasurable climax from it.

  I typed my responses out quickly.

  NO

  Take one beside him

  I want you to take one beside him

  I want to see him in the background

  Then I watched the screen, waiting to see her response. It came in time, and I was almost certain that I could read the intention in it.

  Are you serious?

  Hesitation. Hesitation defined her words. Hesitation led her to question me and hesitation led her to wait for my response.

  But I wouldn't respond. She had gotten all of the instruction she needed from me. She knew what I wanted and it was her play now.

  And then the next picture arrived. A picture of her body lit up by the yellow light of her bedside lamp. Every inch of her gorgeous body on display and in the background her husband lying there sleeping, so close and so unsuspecting.

  Good. Another with you touching yourself.

  It was me that wanted that. I needed it. I needed to know that she was hot for me. I needed to know that she wanted me just as bad as I wanted her.

  Seriously?

  Her response made me almost angry, almost furious. As if there was anything else I could be at this point. As if this was all just a game and not an act driven by our needs and mutual desires.

  As if it could be anything but serious truth.

  Do it. Now.

  I saw her picture arrive, saw her hand between her thighs and the pleasure written on her face. I saw all of the telltale signs on her body that I'd seen before and I knew in a moment that she was truly invested.

  Turning my phone down I snapped a picture of my throbbing cock, my hand at the base of it squeezing it as I shuddered and moaned. I sent that picture off to her, stroking myself faster and faster while I waited for her response.

  Oh wow. I can't believe I'm fucking doing this.

  That had to be a lie. How could we not be doing this? How could we not have expected that it would get to this point and that it would go further? How could we not know this would destroy us?

  Keep playing with yourself. Tell me how you feel.

  We had to know it. We had to know it with absolute certainty, that we were heading down a path of self-destructive pleasure. That all of this would end in spectacular fireworks as we burned down the whole of the house behind us.

  But it would be worth it.

  Oh god I'd feel so much better with you here with me.

  Oh god I need to feel you inside of me.

  It would be worth it just to have this moment, because this moment would be all that we could ever have. Her marriage and my life meant that we could never be together fully, but we could enjoy this brief fleeting respite.

  You want me to come over there?

  But the respite would destroy us and everything we had. It would ruin our lives and our livelihoods. It would salt the earth behind us and mean that we could never return to what we had.

  Yes I want you to come over here and fuck me in bed while my husband sleeps right next to me. I need a real man to fuck me just like you did earlier.

  I wanted to give her everything she wanted. I wanted to satisfy this passionate and beautiful woman because I needed her in my life. Even if it killed me I needed to touch and enjoy her. I needed her to be happy because of me, even if that happiness was fleeting and even if it came at the expense of everything else.

  And I wanted to tell her this. I wanted to tell her that she deserved this and that I wanted to give it to her.

  But that would do a disservice to what we had.

  Not tonight. Tonight you play with yourself. Tonight the memory of me will have to be enough.

  Tomorrow I will have you again. Tomorrow and any day that I want from now on.

  Tell me you belong to me.

  It was an order disguised as a plea. An attempt by me to have whatever I could from her. To have her reassure me that she felt for me just as much as I felt for her.

  I belong to you.

  I just came.

  I was done by now, my cock softening in my hand without completion. This wasn't about me anymore. This was about Avril.

  The strange and mysterious woman who I was falling for. The only
woman in my life that I could never have, but the one I so desperately needed.

  She needed me, the image of me. She needed the wall of impassable masculinity. She needed the man who she thought that I was.

  So I gave that to her.

  So did I.

  I lied, but the lie made me feel hollow. It made me feel inadequate. It made me feel less than.

  God when can I see you again?

  I could picture her sending that text. Could picture the eagerness on her face, her tentative desire. The newness of our relationship leading her to take risks that she would never take.

  My response was my response. It was staged and designed. The asshole taking command once more.

  Tomorrow. One PM. That Italian place we went to last week.

  Because that was the man she needed me to be. She needed me to be the asshole. She needed me to take charge. She needed me to be unforgiving and severe.

  I threw my phone onto the bed and I pushed myself up to my feet. I undressed and I walked into the bathroom and I showered for nearly an hour trying to get the stink of that persona off of me. I tried to wash it away, knowing that with each step I took towards being the man she needed me to be I was pushing her away.

  But it was right, and it was necessary. It was what she needed and it was the only way that the woman I loved could ever return to a sense of normalcy in her life.

  I would be the man she needed me to be, even if it hurt me. And after it was all said and done she would be gone from me. I would never see her again.

  But she would be happy, and in the end that would have to be enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JEREMY

  It was almost impossible keeping up with work, and little to none of that had to do with Jacob. In truth, the work could have easily fallen into a rhythm for me. In truth, the time that he had been gone had only served to show me that his position in the company was not some mysterious or inscrutable task.

  Once I'd gotten up to speed with things on his end it had been only too simple for me to grasp the whole of his job. I needed to know what he had done and what he was planning on doing, and then the rest of it was so similar to my own work that I could easily slip into covering it without a problem. To the point where Jacob could be gone for months or years, hell he could never return at all and still it wouldn't bother me one bit.

  Of course all of that is only applicable under ordinary circumstances and this was anything but that.

  My thoughts were consumed with dreams of fantasy. They ate away at me, making it impossible for me to see anything but them in the times that I was able to steal a moment for myself.

  Those moments were becoming more and more frequent, and less and less restricted to the places they should.

  I didn't need to go into the office today. It was a Sunday and there was no one in there. Anyone in my company who was working today was working from home, and I had a home office set up there that could more than easily accommodate and assist me in anything I wanted to accomplish.

  I left the house because I needed to get away from it. I needed to get away from it because I needed to get away from her. I needed to put space between the two of us because I knew if I didn't I would overplay my hand almost immediately.

  Waking had come to me late today, actually. I woken in the light of the morning for the first time, with my beautiful Avril stretched out beside me in bed. Sitting up in my place I'd looked over at her, seeing her angelic beauty before me and seeing her for just a moment as the woman that I fell in love with.

  For just a moment none of this had happened.

  And then in a flash visions came to me, of her and him. The two of them together and tied into each other. The way that their bodies had come together breathlessly time and again. The way their limbs had intertwined and their moans had built off of each other. The way that they had made their passion a pleasure and a part of each other and the way that I was there to witness it.

  At that moment she became his lover, his companion. At that moment she ceased to be something that could ever be anything but inextricably tied to him.

  Avril rolled over and looked up at me, smiling and stretching lean like a cat. Beneath the sheet she was naked and I saw it slip down her body as her breasts were partly exposed, her nipples standing out and puckering against the cool air of the room.

  “Is it early?” she asked.

  “No, it's quite late,” I told her, “Well quite late for me at least. Nearly ten in the morning.”

  She smiled up at me, her eyes squinting as she blinked away the sleep from them.

  “You're here with me?” she said, yawning through her words, “You didn't leave for the office.”

  “I slept in,” I told her sheepishly, “Was a bit exhausted this morning apparently.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. It triggered her mind and triggered her memory and I could see it in her eyes and I knew that for a passing moment she had forgotten about him, but that I had brought him back to her once more.

  I pushed out of bed, feet on the floor and feeling the steady sureness of it as a surprise to me, as if I expected the whole world to be roiling with just as much uncertainty as my own internal thoughts were.

  “You're getting up?” she asked, and I noted a tone of something in her voice that edged on despair.

  “I have to get ready,” I told her, leaving the rest of it unsaid as I took my steps towards our bathroom.

  Shower and shave and suit and out the door. I had to get out of the door. I had to get away from this house and away from her before I went and did something stupid.

  “You can't stay?” I heard her ask, that despair turning to desperation and seeping in even deeper into her voice.

  I paused by the door, steadying myself against it and willing myself to keep my eyes forward instead of looking back at her. If I looked back I would lose my resolve.

  “I'm sorry,” I told her, “I'm still playing catchup with all of the work that Jacob left behind.”

  The weight of my lie laid heavy on my shoulders. It made me want to cry, want to sob against it. Even worse was the compassion that she gave me in her response.

  “I understand,” she said, “I know you have to it's just... I miss you, Jeremy.”

  “I miss you too Avril,” I said quietly, “I miss... I miss you.”

  I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me before my voice broke, before tears came to my eyes and I told her every single one of the fears that was consuming me.

  Rushing into the shower I stepped in even before the water was warm. The chill of it made me shiver and shake but I forced myself under it and began mechanically scrubbing at cleaning myself.

  What was I doing here? How had I let it go this far? How had I let myself fall into a place like this, where I couldn't look at the love of my life without seeing her in the arms of a stranger?

  And worst of all the biggest question was why couldn't I stop this? Why couldn't I put it behind me and why did I know with absolute certainty that the moment I had a moment alone I would be contacting Bruce to figure out his schedule. To figure out the next time that we could arrange the next session between the two of them.

  I hadn't even begun to approach asking Avril about engaging in this again. I didn't know what excuse or what method I could use to justify it.

  The way I saw it the only reason she agreed to a second was to keep me happy. To give me a compelling reason to be home with her, and her actions this morning just served as further evidence of that.

  Avril missed me because I was no longer around. I was no longer around because being in the same room as she just added fuel to my fantasies.

  I was fucking ruining my life and I knew that I was ruining my life but I couldn't even begin to stop myself.

  I stepped out of the shower and slipped into the walk-in closet. I dressed and prepared myself in silence, ear cocked and listening in the bedroom for any sign of her.

  When I finally st
epped out she wasn't there, and I felt a rush of relief wash over me that was only temporary.

  At this point I'm pretty sure that I was working on autopilot, acting on impulse rather than thinking things through. I was pressing forward without the slightest thought to what I was doing. All I knew was that I needed to get there.

  I needed to get to that spot of privacy.

  She didn't leap out at me and she wasn't even in hiding. She was just waiting on the ground floor near the exit to the house for me but still I jumped in shock when I came around the corner and saw her.

  “Oh god!” I shouted in surprise, “I didn't see you there.”

  “I'm sorry,” Avril said meekly, “I just wanted to make sure you didn't leave without breakfast.”

  Avril never made me breakfast. She never packed me lunch. It wasn't a part of what she did for me and I never minded it.

  But today she was standing there waiting for me, a bag with food in it and coffee in a travel mug for me.

  “Sorry,” she said as she handed them out for me to take, “It's just some fruit and a bagel. We didn't have much to make in the house.”

  I took them from her and looked down at them, feeling guilt washing over me in waves as I stood there not knowing what the hell to say.

  Avril leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, her lips connecting with my skin with such a gentle touch that it almost made me sigh.

  “Have a good day at work dear,” she said, pulling back and stepping out of my way, “I love you.”

  I looked over at her, wanting nothing more at that moment than to cast aside everything and sweep her up into my arms. I wanted to kiss her and hold her and tell her that I was done with everything that had driven me until now.

  To tell her that she was perfect as she was and that I didn't need anything but just her in my life.

  But as I looked at her I saw him. I looked at her and saw the two of them together and the swell inside me was powerful enough to make my body ache and I cowardly turned away from her, not able to look her in the eye as I told her, “I love you too,” and walked out of the door.

  I was shaking nearly the whole ride over to work, and by the time I was in my office alone the need and memory of the sight of them together had nearly consumed me fully. I almost collapsed a half dozen times from the aching pulse in my body, and only when I was alone in my office with the door locked behind me did I let myself finally give into it.