90 comments/ 117133 views/ 16 favorites I Loved Her Too Much to Leave Her By: LynnGKS It was happening again. I knew exactly what it was. She was bubbling over with happiness and laughter. She wanted to attend every club party. She dragged me out to dinner and dancing as often as she could and when we stayed home she fixed me gourmet meals. The real clincher was that she tried to fuck my brains out every time she got the chance. I had seen it before. It happened every two or three years. My wife was fucking one of our friends. Who was it this time? If I wanted a happy loving wife and lots of pussy, this was it -- it would last about three months. If I didn't want my wife secretly banging a guy I played golf with, this was not it. Every time it happened I had to find out who he was. I had to do the same dreary thing all over again. I have been married for over ten years to a breathtakingly beautiful woman -- with the body of Venus. Long, lovely legs made unbelievably sexy by spike heels - an ass that gave men an instant boner, when she walked in front of them. Breasts that bounced delightfully when she moved -- no matter how tight the bra. We had a wonderful home, belonged to a great club, and I had no money problems. Dad's company was booming and he was about to start gradual early retirement and turn it all over to me. My only problem was that every two or three years my wife had a brief affair with one of our friends. Lisa and I had met in college and I had felt lucky to date her because she was the most popular gal on campus. Bright, articulate, artsy, and beautiful -- every guy wanted her. She didn't screw around -- I never once heard stories about even one guy getting into her pants. Maybe some did, but they never talked about it - she had a spotless reputation. I dated her a lot but not steady. Finally one night after a wonderful spring dance I got the nerve to ask her. "Lisa," I said, nervous as hell, "would you wear my frat pin?" She smiled like an angel. "I want to do that very much Bobby and it would be an honor, but I can't do it. I will go out with you as much as you want and I won't date anybody else, but I don't want to put myself in a position where you would get jealous if you saw me at lunch with another guy or if I had dinner with a old friend." I felt hurt. "I don't understand -- we're dating steady -- why not wear my pin?" "I've had really bad problems in the past with this kind of thing," Lisa said. "Last year I was going out a lot with this guy and a friend I'd known from high school came to town over a weekend. He took me out on a picnic and we had a wonderful time talking about people we knew who were at different colleges. My boyfriend found out about it and exploded in jealous rage. It was awful!" I was puzzled. "Had you told him you wouldn't date anybody else?" "I never promised that, exactly, but somehow he got that idea. And that same thing has happened with two other guys. A lot of my sorority sisters think it's fun and flattering to make a guy jealous. But jealousy just turns me off." That should have sent a message I guess, but I didn't get it. She sent that message more than once. We dated only each other for two years and developed a solid and mutually rewarding sexual relationship. We had fallen in love. During our senior year, late one afternoon, she introduced me to a guy she had gone to high school with. She said he was in town for the day and was going to take her to dinner that night so she could catch up on news of some old classmates. I was caught completely by surprise. Stunned! I guess my mouth gaped open and I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I shook his hand and, standing there, the only thing that flashed through my mind was her story of the three guys she had dumped because they got jealous. He told her he'd pick her up at seven and headed back to town. She acted like nothing unusual was happening. That night I was in torment. The girl I loved, the girl I thought of as "my" girl, the girl I was about to propose marriage to, was out with another guy -- and he was good looking. The next day when I met her at the union building, she was all smiles -- laughter seemed to bubble out of her. Knowing what I know about her now, it was obvious that she had fucked her former classmate. But, then I was just happy that she was happy and that she had learned about her old friends. I was especially happy when she stayed at my apartment that night and we had one of the best, and varied, nights in bed ever. She just "bubbled" love and excitement. I proposed to her just before graduation. It was a very serious evening. We spent a long time talking about our future together. We talked about where we would live, me joining dad's company and then running it when I learned how, and a lot of other things. We talked about why marriages worked and why they failed. "Marriages fail because people have expectations that are not met," she said with a kind of finality. "You already know that I don't want to have children right away. But, if you expected me to have kids immediately, it would be a mistake to get married." It was a long discussion and near the end she said, "I love you deeply, we are sexually compatible, and there's not a jealous bone in your body. That's important to me. I want very much to be your wife." Why I remembered it at that moment, I'm not sure, but I thought about that "innocent" dinner she had had with an old classmate three months earlier, which had made her so happy. And I remembered the guys she broke up with because they got jealous. But, I loved her, and I wanted her. I looked into her eyes. "I want very much to be your husband." We were married right after graduation and our lives went exactly as we had planned. After a couple of years of very hard work we were settled in our house and joined the club and things were great. After we got settled down she didn't have much to do and I thought she got a bit depressed. Then, one evening Lisa came home from the club all bubbly and enthusiastic about a party the "girls" were planning for a club golf tournament. She and the club pro, Stan Morgan, were making the arrangements. I was glad to see her happy. She was busy for a change and I thought being busy was a big part of her feeling better. She had been so active in college and then furnishing our new home the way she wanted it, that when things settled down, I figured she was bored. She needed something to do and this project at the club seemed to be it. For the next two months her life was one of phone calls and committee meetings and late nights at the club. The tournament was a great success. And our love life was great too. But, a month or so after the tournament her activity slowed down gradually and we went to less parties and our fun in bed came back to our usual two or three times a week. I tried to interest her in various activities but nothing seemed to work. She was not depressed -- in fact she was normal -- but she was not on the high that planning that golf tournament had given her. We had a good life, a very good life, and good sex, very rewarding sex, but not like when she was planning that tournament. A couple of years later we were approaching our fifth wedding anniversary and we wanted to make it special. Lisa and I talked about it a lot trying to decide what to do. She began to get excited looking at travel brochures to all sorts of exotic places. Then the old bubbly, smiley-faced, Lisa seemed to spring up from somewhere. It was party time again and the bedroom became a centerpiece of activity. WOW! I thought, if there was just some way to bottle this stuff and send Lisa into orbit whenever I felt like it! We were in the middle of travel plans when, late one afternoon, my secretary tells me that there's a Mrs. Alban who would like to see me. Sue Alban I asked, and when my secretary nodded, I said to show her in. What was Sue Alban doing making a visit to my downtown office. We see each other several times a week at the club. We had served on the club board together and on several committees. The Albans had been dinner guests at our house and we at theirs. They were about ten years older than us and he was a very successful businessman running the business her father had left her. Why was she here? This was strange. "Come in Sue. Have a seat. What can I do for you?" I must have had a puzzled look on my face because of her response. "You really have no idea at all why I'm here, do you?" Sue said. She was a chubby lady, attractive and modestly dressed. She was not smiling. I shook my head no. Sue sat in the big leather chair and I sat on the couch across the coffee table from her. Something was clearly disturbing her. She had a large manila envelope in her hand. "First of all Bobby," she began, "my lawyer told me not to do this. Then he said it was so bad that he would be tempted to withdraw from the case if I did it. You know Gregory. He wouldn't dare! Not with all my family business that comes his way! So I'm doing it. Just be sure Lisa does not call Christopher tonight. Promise me." I nodded. She was very, very serious about something. "What is it Sue?" I asked. "Christopher is having an affair with Lisa." "I don't understand," I said. "Bobby I won't mince words. My husband is fucking your wife. Is that something you can understand?" Stunned would be an understatement for the way I felt. "That's not possible," I said, "not possible at all." She said not a word. She simply tossed the thick manila envelope onto the table. I picked it up, opened it, and took out a stack of papers and photographs. There was a videodisk. I went through the well-organized material, which contained dates and times of meetings between Lisa and Christopher at motels and hotels, complete with photographs of them together going in and out. The earliest date was several weeks after Lisa and I began planning our fifth anniversary excursion and the most recent one was two days ago. "What does this mean?" I asked. "Sue, what does this mean?" "Open the small white envelope," Sue said. I found a small envelope filled with glossy colored prints. I gasped when I saw them. They were of Lisa and Christopher, naked, having sexual intercourse in a variety of positions and performing oral sex on each other. "Those are just the highlights," Sue said. "The ones where both their faces show clearly. There's a lot with only asses and ... well ... other things showing." I was in a daze. "So what happens now?" I asked. "The case is complete. I have arranged to meet with Christopher and Gregory the first thing in the morning. To surprise him, I told him it was about our will. We have a generous settlement, which he will be offered. If he doesn't take it, then and there, we go to court. If that happens it's in all the newspapers -- front page of course -- and TV news and Lisa will be at the center of it. That's why I wanted to meet you first -- so you could prepare for it." "Prepare? Prepare how? What can I possibly do?" "Prepare yourself for a public scandal involving your wife. This is not the first time she's done this. Our investigators dug up some other stuff -- I don't know how -- about Lisa and that golf pro, Stan Morgan. You remember, he was very good and left the club a year or so ago for a club in Arizona. If her affair with Christopher comes out, her affair with the pro will probably go public as well. This could be very messy for you. That's why I had to tell you. I told Gregory that you would agree not to let Lisa make any phone calls to Christopher tonight. We want to surprise him." I sat there bewildered. "May I have one of those pictures?" I asked. "Take your pick," Sue said. I selected one with Lisa astride Christopher, her lovely breasts hanging down into his hands and big smiles on both their clearly recognizable faces. I slipped it into my coat pocket. Then I thanked Sue for her courtesy and kindness, and after she left I told my secretary that I was going home early. When I got home Lisa met me with a big smile and began to bubble about a party we were going to that night. She was ecstatic, as she had been for months. I took her arm and led her into the study. "Lisa, we have a serious problem," I said, "and we need to talk about it. We need to get ourselves ready." Lisa gave me a puzzled look. "Ready for what?" "Sue found out about your affair with Christopher and she's going to divorce him. Sue and her lawyer are meeting with him tomorrow morning." "Affair with Christopher? I'm not having an affair with Christopher! That's ridiculous!" "Lisa, please, let's talk about this. I want to hear your side of it." "My side of what? There is no affair!" She seemed so honest and open. If I had not seen the photographs I would have believed her every word. It was as if, in her mind, there was no affair. I thought she might even pass a lie detector test! I saw that talking was useless. I took the picture out of my coat pocket and handed it to her. She stared at it and her face slowly took on a look of pure disgust -- as if she were getting nauseous and about to throw up. "I agree my dear. It is a disgusting picture. But you and Christopher are smiling." It was hard for me not to add that final, unnecessary, remark. But, I was feeling a bit nauseous myself about the whole situation. The next hour was pure hell. I hurt deep inside. I tried to control my temper. I listened to her soft loving talk and then her loud screaming accusations of jealousy. Finally she turned to pleading for forgiveness. In the end she simply jumped to her feet and ran upstairs, shouting back at me that I could sleep in the guest room. She had left her purse on the table and I removed her cell phone and car keys and put them in my pocket. Then, I unplugged the master house phone so she could not make a call from an extension. My mind was in turmoil but I had to think this through. In business I had analyzed information and made big decisions calmly all my life -- but now, with the biggest decision of my life facing me, my mind seemed confused and disorganized. "Settle down!" I said it out loud. Then I sat there quietly and asked myself what had she had said - exactly. In all the screaming and crying and begging, what had she really said? She had said that Christopher had made her feel very happy and that this had made our own married life together happier. Okay, I didn't like it at all, but it was true. She had said she was very sorry she had hurt me, but I should remember that he was married, she was not in love with him, and she was not about to leave me and run off with him. Okay, that was also probably true. And, furthermore, she had planned to fuck him for only a few months. If the story about the golf pro were true, this was probably true. Christopher was short-term sex. Finally, she said she wanted to stay with me because she loved me. This was probably true, but it was a strange kind of love that let her secretly fuck somebody else. Then I asked myself what had she NOT said? She had not said she was sorry that she fucked him. Just sorry I got hurt. She had not said that she would never do it again. Just that she would stop. She had not said that she felt guilty about what she had done. The next afternoon, Sue Alban called me at my office to say that Christopher had accepted the settlement and signed the necessary papers. It was unlikely that Lisa's role in the matter would become public. I asked her for the information her lawyers had on Lisa's affair with the pro golfer two years ago and a summary of her affair with Christopher. She said she would send it to my office by messenger. I made arrangements for a quick trip to Phoenix to talk to Stan Morgan. On the plane to Phoenix I reviewed the material that a number of investigators had collected on an affair between Lisa and the pro. It was scanty, but convincing -- it would stand up in court. I arranged to meet with Stan at my hotel that evening. He was upset that I wanted a meeting, but his very concern made me suspect that the allegations were true. We met in the lounge of my hotel and sat in a booth where the waitress brought us each a single-malt on the rocks. After a few pleasant exchanges about the old club and how he was doing at his new job, I pulled a summary of Lisa's affair out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. He started to read it -- stopped, looked up, and gave me a startled look -- then proceeded to read through the entire document. "You have photographs?" He asked. I nodded, "Intimate photographs?" I nodded again. "What can I do for you?" Stan asked. "It's very simple," I said. "In the course of the investigation, a good deal of information came up about your affair with Lisa two years ago." His face showed not one spark of emotion. He stared at me and waited. "I have information about Lisa and other men." This was a lie but Stan could not know that. "There seems to be a pattern. I need to be sure what it is. You can help me by telling me about your affair. If you do, I will not trouble you any further. If you refuse, I will have you deposed as a witness in a divorce trial." I was bluffing. Stan looked off to his right out the window at passing traffic, thinking. After a moment he said, "And my wife will not hear anything about this?" "Your wife will never hear a thing," I assured him. "Your word?" "You have my word!" "Okay, it's pretty simple," he said. "Lisa was asked to head the planning committee for a golf tournament and we had a lot of meetings together. She wanted to have extra meetings with me that seemed unnecessary, but I said okay. At these meetings she dressed in a very provocative way and quite openly flirted with me. There was no question that she wanted to f... , well ... to have sexual relations." "The work 'fuck' does not disturb me Mr. Morgan. It has come up many times in the investigation of my wife's behavior," I said. He continued. "The first time we had sex was in my office at the club, after the pro shop had closed. She was just too sexy to resist. She took off her shorts and panties and leaned back against the wall. I just ... well ... I just whipped it out and fucked her up against the wall. After that we had sex three or four times a week -- in my office, at motels, in my car, at your house -- I can't remember all the places but there was a hell of a lot of sex. It went on for about three months -- till about a month after that tournament. And then, she just lost interest and we quit -- just like that -- as fast as it had begun." I nodded. "Where did you fuck at my place?" "In the guest bedroom," Stan said. "Always in the guest bedroom." "Would you like another single-malt?" I asked. "No thank you," Stan answered. "I'm headed on home." He paused a moment. "Is this the last of it?" I nodded. "The last you'll hear from me." On my flight back the next day I began to ponder the situation, looking back to the first time I met Lisa. Several things about Lisa seemed far clearer to me now than ever before. For Lisa, sex was a form of social gratification -- a "high" that made her unusually happy -- what I had always seen as "bubbling" with joy. It was infectious -- it spread to me -- I felt better too. It had probably happened several times before, and I thought back through our lives searching for those moments. Secondly, Lisa felt no guilt. She saw nothing wrong with it -- while at the same time knowing she had to keep it secret from a world she knew did not approve. And of most importance for our future, I did not think Lisa could change. She was going to be like this for the rest of her life. If I did not use the evidence collected by Sue Alban to get a quiet divorce, I would face this same problem again in a year or two or three. I loved her. Did I love her too much to leave her? Could I live with this? I Loved Her Too Much to Leave Her When I got back home Lisa met me at the door as though nothing had happened. Did I want to have dinner at home? Did I want to go out? Did I want a drink? Sorry about that guest room thing, your stuff is back in our room. "Did you talk to Christopher?" I asked. "Christopher? Oh Christopher. Yeah, he called and said he and Sue were getting a divorce and he wouldn't be seeing us much any more." It was surreal! Wouldn't be seeing "us" any more. What the hell was that? Then she took my face in her two hands, stood on her tiptoes, and gave me a kiss. "Darling," she said, "I'm sorry we had that spat. I love you and I want things to be okay again. Can we do that?" Spat! What we had was a spat? Like a fight over whether to serve our dinner guests steak or lobster? I tried to get my mind around what was in her head. For her, an infidelity discovered and discussed was a "spat" to be ended with a kiss. I took her arm and led her into the study. "Lisa we have to have a talk. I want you to tell me about your affair with Stan Morgan." She looked surprised. "He left town over a year ago." "Yes he did," I said. "Tell me about your affair with Stan Morgan." "Did someone tell you I had an affair with Stan?" I nodded. "Well it's not true!" Lisa was emphatic. She seemed genuinely puzzled. "Who told you a thing like that?" "Stan said he fucked you up against the wall in his office and at motels all over town and in his car and in this house in the guest room. Is that true?" "That was over two years ago." Lisa seemed to think it was too long ago to matter. "Is it true?" I asked again. "Well I guess so. But why are you bringing all that up now? Nothing ever came of it. He left town. I didn't really care very much about him anyway. Why are you so damn jealous?" It seemed pointless to talk to her. She had no concept of what she had done. She simply brushed it off as casual, insignificant, behavior -- no different from dancing with someone else's husband at a club dinner dance. She placed no value on it. "Lisa, what if I went to bed with Sue?" She looked at me though I'd lost my mind. "Sue? Sue Alban? She's ten years older than you are and she's fat." "Okay, what if I went to bed with a younger woman -- someone beautiful?" She continued to look at me as though I were nuts. "Okay, I guess I know what you're asking me. If she made you happy and made us happy and you didn't plan to leave me and run off with her and nobody knew about it -- then it's okay for a while I guess. Who would it hurt?" I seemed to be getting nowhere. "Would it hurt you?" "Not if I didn't know about it! If I found out about it I might ask you to stop, but I wouldn't get jealous about it. You're my husband. You're staying with me. You'd stop seeing her if I asked you to. Why would I care?" Lisa had no notion of the concept of betrayal. Sex was not different from many other interpersonal relations. She seemed to think it was strange that so many people thought that it was. Lisa was not going to change. She was what she was. And as I sat there in the study, thinking about our lives together, I suddenly realized that I loved her too much -- too much to leave her. That was five years ago. Our lives had returned to normal as I tried to make myself forget -- at least most of the time -- what had happened. There had been another period of what I thought of as the "bubbly" Lisa about two years ago. It had lasted about three months and I had engaged a private detective to investigate her activities. He collected the usual list of motel room meetings, visits to our home when I was traveling, and mysterious phone calls. He installed a video camera in our guest bedroom and I watched several passionate sessions of lovemaking. Her lover was a businessman that I occasionally did business with. On that occasion I had sat her down in the study and shown her the report from the detective. There was no need to show her the video. She had hung her head in silence. I had told her to end the affair and she had done so. Her "bubbles" went away, our fantastic sex went away, and our life returned to normal. Now it was all happening again. I could tell because the "bubbles" had returned to Lisa's behavior. Our sex life was great and our social life was wonderful. There was no need to hire the private detective again -- I simply turned on the hidden, motion-sensitive, video camera in the guest bedroom and left town for several days. On my return I viewed a video of several hours of passionate sex. It was a close friend of mine, a golfing buddy from the club, Roger Wiggins. I had played a round of golf with him just the week before. Decision time - once again. I loved her too much to leave her. I could stop her any time I wanted to, just by telling her to stop, but she would find another lover. My decision was made for me that night during happy hour at the club. Roger and his wife Bev walked in and Bev waved and smiled at Lisa and me. She grabbed Roger's arm and drug him across the room to join us. "Hi Lisa. Hi Bobby. Join us for a drink why don't you?" Bev was all smiles and friendly. I wondered what was going on in her head. Roger was just the same as last week when we played golf -- not a clue that he was fucking my wife. The four of us got a table and Bev asked Lisa about her golf lessons. We held a routine friendly conversation for ten minutes or so. Then Bev excused herself and headed for the ladies' room giving me a special look as she left the table. I figured she wanted to talk so I headed for the men's room. Bev grabbed my arm as I rounded the corner into the hallway. "Let's go outside," she said. I followed her out the side door of the club. "We just have a minute," Bev said urgently. "You and I need to talk. Can you come by my place tomorrow afternoon?" I nodded. It was obvious that Bev was suspicious of her husband and my wife. The next day I took the afternoon off and was at Bev's house by two o'clock. She met me at the door. "Do you know what I want to talk about?" Bev asked as she showed me into the living room. "I think so," I responded. "Your husband is fucking my wife. How did you figure it out?" "Sit down and I'll tell you. It's early, but I need a drink," Bev said pointing to a bottle of Macallan-12. "Do you want one?" "Yeah, I think I need one too," I answered. Bev put ice into two glasses and poured generous drinks. Taking a big swallow of the chilled liquid, she began her story. "Roger started acting kinda strange about a month or so ago. He quit fucking me and made some mysterious phone calls. I figured something was up and I parked outside his office several days in a row and one day he left early and headed for your house. He spent all afternoon there. I called your office and your secretary said you were out of town. I figured he was fucking Lisa." I nodded. Then I told a little lie. "Lisa started acting strange. I pretended to leave town and watched the house. Roger came by and stayed most of the afternoon. Several days later I did it again and after he arrived I sneaked in the back and checked out the bedroom. They were fucking like newly weds. He stayed three hours." I left out the part about the video. That would remain my personal secret. "So what do we do about it?" Bev asked. "What do you want to do?" I countered. "I'm mad as hell at the bastard. He did this once before several years ago and promised never again. But now he's at it again. Shit! I don't know what to do." "Well Bev, I hate to admit this, but I've got more experience than I really want in this sort of thing, and the first question you have to ask yourself is whether or not you want a divorce. If you do, you get a private detective to collect the evidence and pictures -- the usual stuff - and then you get a lawyer. Do you want a divorce?" "That's what pisses me off. I got a good life. I got a good man except when he screws around. I don't want a divorce. I'm mad! Mad as hell! But I don't want a divorce -- I want to get even. I want to make that bastard as mad at me as I am at him." "Let's have another drink," I said seeing that she had finished hers and so had I. She poured us more single malt. Then she asked, "Are you getting a divorce?" "No. I've been through this before with Lisa. Her affairs last only two or three months and if I catch her she quits right away. I'm hurt and I'm mad. But there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I love her too much to leave her." "You poor, pathetic bastard! You're as crazy as I am! We're both fools! We love 'em too much! What the hell can we do?" Bev asked in frustration. "I don't know," I said. "In the past, I've told her to stop when I couldn't take it any more. We could just wait a couple of months and it will be over. I really don't know what to do." "Why don't we give them a dose of their own medicine?" Bev asked. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Roger will be home in a couple of hours. Why don't you and I go to bed and let him catch us fucking?" Bev was not a bad looking woman -- in fact, she was darn good looking. Five-four, 110 pounds, nice tits and great, long legs. I hadn't fucked anybody except Lisa for years but her invitation made me think about how nice it would be to spread those long legs of hers. What the hell did I have to lose? "Let's finish our scotch and give it a try," I said with a smile. And we did. Bev was even better than I had hoped. She fucked like a mink and I gave her two orgasms before I pumped my first load. She laughed as we rested, lying naked in bed. We did it again, then, played around a bit and Bev sucked my cock. "You're bigger than Roger," she said. "A good two inches longer. That's great! I'm gonna tell him that's why I enjoy fucking you. I want to hurt that bastard's ego." I started to crawl between her legs. "Not yet honey. I want you good and hard and fucking me big time when he walks in," Bev said. We waited. When we heard the garage door open, Bev sucked my cock to get me ready and we started to fuck doggie-style both of us facing the bedroom door. Her tits were hanging down and jiggling and I was reaching around with one hand playing with her tits and the other tickling her clit. "Bev," Roger called, "where are you?" "Up here honey. In the bedroom." When he walked in I was banging away and Bev was grunting like a whore. Roger stopped in the door, frozen and staring at us. "Pour yourself a drink and sit down honey," Bev said. "We'll be through in a minute. Jesus! Bobby's a good fuck. He's two inches longer than you are and this is his third time servicing me this afternoon." Roger just stood there staring. I realized I wasn't going to come in this situation so I decided to fake it, and I did with what I thought was a convincing bit of sound and fury. I think Bev faked it too and we collapsed on the bed panting for breath. Bev got out from under me and with a big smile ran over to Roger, her tits bouncing delightfully. She gave him a big kiss on the cheek before putting on her robe. I rolled out of bed and grabbed Roger's robe and put it on. Then I followed them down to the living room where Bev was pouring three drinks. She had put an extra glass on the table before we started to fuck. Roger seemed almost paralyzed and speechless. Bev continued to chatter like a magpie, laughing and smiling. "Sorry about that Roger," Bev said. "We were having so much fun we lost track of the time. Damn! You ought to see Bobby's cock when it gets hard. It's a lot bigger than yours." Finally Roger found his voice and he shouted. "How long has this been going on?" Bev kept on laughing and smiling. "I started fucking Bobby about the time you quite fucking me and started fucking Lisa. We're having as much fun as you and Lisa. Maybe we ought to invite her over and do it as a foursome tonight." Roger got red in the face. He was so angry I thought he might take a swing at me and I moved back a little. Roger shouted at Bev. "Cunt! Bitch! How the hell could you do this to me?" "Don't be a spoil-sport Roger," Bev laughed, delightfully. "It was your idea to start fucking around. I just followed your lead." Roger turned to me. "Get dressed and get the hell out of here. Lisa is not going to like this when she finds out." And Lisa didn't like it. Roger had called her and when I walked into the house she met me, agitated and in tears. "How could you do this to me?" Lisa sobbed. "Darling, we went over all of this after your last affair. You said it would be okay if I fucked another woman because you knew I'd stop if you asked me to. Do you want me to stop fucking Bev?" I tried to be as casual about it as Bev had been with Roger - as casual as Lisa had been about her affairs with other men. Lisa just stood there and cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. "How long have you been fucking her," Lisa sobbed. "We started to fuck about the time that you and Roger did," I said staying with Bev's story. "What was that? Over a month ago I think. Bev is a really great fuck -- not as good as you honey -- but really good. It's been a struggle for me to keep servicing you both." "I want you to stop," said Lisa still sobbing. "Of course darling," I said solicitously. "Could you tell me why?" "It makes me feel sick to my stomach," she sobbed. I took her in my arms. "Of course I'll stop dear." With that I picked up the phone and called Roger's house. Bev answered the phone. "Hi Bev," I said. "Lisa doesn't like the idea of you and me in bed together. I told her we would stop. Is that alright with you?" I listened to her answer, which was a great big laugh and the comment that Roger had decided that his affair with Lisa ought to stop also. I hung up the phone. I took Lisa in my arms again. "I'm sorry I hurt you." Lisa just pressed her face into my chest and cried. After a few minutes I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face up, kissing her gently on the lips. "Why don't we shower and go to the club for dinner?" I said. And we did. As we walked toward the club from the parking lot Roger pulled in and helped Bev out of the car. I took Lisa's arm and waited for them. "Shall we have dinner together? That seems the civilized thing to do," I said. Bev chuckled. "Yeah, let's do that. Just like old friends. I've been telling Pee-wee here how good it is to fuck a guy that's well hung." I looked quickly at Roger. His head was down, he was silent, and he was looking at the ground as he walked. Bev's sarcasm had obviously been punching holes in his ego. This was what she had wanted to do and I suspected her troubles with Roger were over. And my troubles with Lisa were over as well - for the time being. But I knew it would happen again. And when it did, I suppose I would still love her too much to leave her, just as I did at that very moment.