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Wife's Trip to New York

By: chilleywilley



In admiration for the writing of rha spike  Would that I could write as good an erotic scene as he.




Karen Bernier was having a seven year itch. She and Christopher were a couple for two years and married for five.  Normally couples by this time are starting to have children, but after trying, Karen found out she is sterile.  Bad eggs and other problems meant even an embryo transplant had no chance of success.  Amid the teary nights that followed, they swore their vows of eternal love to each other, and said they would look into adopting.  

Neither were sure about adopting, it was a big decision, so they put it off.   With children off the menu of life, Karen realized that rather than her life moving forward with courtship, husband, children, grandchildren, she was stalled with the husband stage.  Husbands were very good when it came to raising children, but that wasn't going to happen.  Sure they could adopt children, but frankly she didn't want to raise someone else's brats.  Her life was in a rut.  Same old, same old.  Is that all there is?  Nothing to look forward to? 

She had always liked murder mysteries, and got interested in the plots, and how clever detectives, like Nero Wolf and Precious Ramotswe unraveled them by the power of their mind.  She even tried her hand at writing one, but it was obvious even to her, that writing was not among her talents.

Should you be able to ply her with truth serum, she would have denied she wanted to have an affair, even though in fact she was intensely planning one in her mind, working out just how a woman should to go about it, like a murder mystery writer thinking up a plot.  

She didn't want a stranger.  For one thing, they might turn out to be a nut case and rape her, or follow her around or something.  Another risk was that the gentleman would fall in love with her and that would be trouble.  She read that ending an affair and ridding oneself of the unwelcome lover is often harder to do than starting the affair in the first place.  Certainly it could be no one where she worked.  Never shit where you eat!  That was good advice paraphrased right from the bible.  Aside from that, there were no good prospects at work, too old, too fat, or too...whatever. No one appealed.

Likewise, It couldn't be anyone in the town where they lived.  Too much chance of running into them in the grocery store, or someone seeing them together.   Maybe a stranger was better after all.  But it would have to be the right sort of stranger, someone suitable who was well spoken and intelligent.  Maybe a businessman in a suit at the Marriot.  Or an airline pilot.  They come and go.  But still, sexual predators wear suits as well as work boots, don't they.

Communication was another problem.  The work e mail account was no good because those geeky kids that maintained the computers could read all of the e mails, so nothing doing there.  Too dangerous.  Her husband could see her cell phone calls if he cared to look, and on the home computer, he had the password to her e-mail accounts.  Fortunately he was not a techie, so he wouldn't know about those key stroke recording programs.  But maybe a secret account, she could log on to at the library, or anywhere!  Just for fun, she set up a secret (from her husband) e mail account.  She felt so clandestine!

When thinking about sex, imagined sex is the most exciting of all because everything would be perfect, sort of like masturbation, the stroke is exactly how you want it, and where you want it.  Imaging sex with a lover turned her on.  Chris, her husband, was the cock at hand and a most willing recipient of all of her lust as she imagined him being various fantasy lovers.  He was most pleased with the boost to his sex life, oddly not so much for the sex itself, but as a sign that the depression that laid his wife low when they learned theirs would be a barren marriage had lifted.  After some difficult months, he had the old Karen back, but a bit less inhibited in bed, and more willing than ever.

Chris had begun to consider how long he would stand by a miserable depressed wife who show no inclination to rise up and rejoin the world.  It had been a tough two years, and while not yet back to normal, life with Karen was bearable for now, with at least a hope of getting better.

Unfortunately sex with Chris wasn't working out so well for her because he was so predictable.  Her lovers did all sorts of things without her asking them.  Stuff that she couldn't really ask anyone to do, because...well because it was disgusting, some of it.  Of course imaginary lovers would know what she really wanted, and Chris fell very short in the mind reading department.  Oddly Karen didn't really consider that no one else could read her mind either.  And she could do things with a lover, like tongue their butt, because they would be gone in a few months.  Do that to Chris, who would be there forever, and he'd expect it ever week!   Well it was great good fun to think big bad thoughts.  

That Spring Karen made a trip back home by herself staying with her mom.  She ran into Roy O'Brian, an old friend from high school.  They were in the supermarket, started talking in front of the meat case, and continued their talk over a cup of coffee at the Holyoke Range Coffee shop.  Just to catch up on old times, of course.  Nothing more!  She smiled at the little shiver she felt inside when Roy was talking.  They had dated a few times in school, but honestly she couldn't really remember who called it off, but thought she lost him to another girl.  

Looking back now, she wondered if she had been too shy and too slow in granting sexual favors.  She vaguely knew his wife, but couldn't picture her.  They ran in different groups back in school.  

As she sipped coffee, she appreciated that Roy was eye candy.  He had lovely soft hands, with long thin fingers.  Looking at the veins and tendons on the back of his hands seemed like an intimate moment to her, allowing her to see inside him, beneath the skin. He dressed very well, and wore what her husband once disparagingly referred to as a Yasser Arafat beard.  She had to look up Yasser Arafat on line, and saw that he was a fat old man with a five or ten day growth of beard on his face surrounding purple lips. Ugh!  Roy looked hot!  Like the models in the magazines, and she was thinking how manly the short beard would feel...on her cheeks and thighs.  

He was delighted to hear she was living outside of Philadelphia.  His job took him there about once a month.  'Of course!  Let us know when you're going to be in town.  Chris and I would love to have to have you over for dinner.'  All on the up and up, mentioning her husband like that, but when they parted, it was her secret e mail account and work phone number she gave him.  She hadn't admitted to herself that she wanted to fuck him, but for sure, Roy wasn't getting anywhere near her husband.  

All her planning and day dreaming on how to conduct the perfect affair, one that her husband wouldn't-couldn't find out about, was but a tool to her will.  She was like Cheney with a war plan too good to be true.

Chris was delighted when she returned with a wanton lust that lasted two days, and a third screwing later in the week.  He noticed and wondered what stirred her up.  He'd have her do it again, if he knew what it was.  Ignorance is so blissful.

Chris and Karen, like most couples, sit around at the end of the work day talking.  Earth saving ideas aren't discussed, nor new ways to make pot roast.  They talk about ordinary stuff, how was your day...what did you do today...were we going to you mothers Friday night?  The bonding that married people share.  Tonight was no exception.  Her news:

"We got a pep talk about team building at work you know?  How we should do things once in a while as a group, some shared activity outside of work.  Relax with one another and have time to chat without the computers and phones beeping and ringing."

"Sounds like a good idea.  Radical in fact.  Just think, two three hours with your cell phone off!   Us middle managers at my place go to lunch once a week.  It's half business, and three quarters bullshit."

"Well, sure, but they aren't talking about just a lunch."

"You mean a weekend of wilderness boot camp, with naked paint ball games and topless bungee cord diving?" 

"Oh I could just see that.  Margie's tits would fly past her nose at the bottom, and slap her naval when they sprung back!   No, nothing that might be fun.  We're suppose to go out to dinner and hang out together somewhere.  Probably a restaurant with a bar.  Our company's so cheap, won't even pay a nickel towards it.  Anyway, we all thought we would try next Thursday.  I'd like to go if you don't mind.  It'll be in the city, so I'll stay down there and probably be home about 9?"

"Oh by all means, go!  You'll have a good time once you get going.  Why on earth not?"

They continued to chat on this and that until Karen went into the family room to watch her TV show, and he went down cellar to the wood shop.  He was not worried, but got to thinking.  Something was off in that conversation, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  Most of his attention was taken by the current, rather ambitious project of carving a large sea horse weathervane, a task that was taking months, considering such time as he had to spend on it.  One thought came to his mind.

The wife didn't tell him she had to go, or that she was going.  She asked if he didn't mind her going.  To a work function!  If it were really work related, an adult would just say 'This Thursday I have to go to this team building blah blah and I'll be home about nine.'  No questions may I go or do you mind.  In fact as far as he could recall in all the years of this marriage, the only things they asked each other for permission on were about the discretionary things.  'I'd like to go to the movies this weekend; anything on you'd like to see? '

He once worked with a scum bag who would ignore you most days, but then one day greet you warmly saying: 'Good morning Chris! How are you?' and Chris would wonder 'What did he mean by that?'  And now he found himself wondering 'What did she mean by that?  

Of course he was totally wrong, it really was a work function exactly as she described it.  What he picked up on was subliminal.   

Well it was little enough for him to worry about.  It probably was a good idea.  Her company was slowly sinking into oblivion as a result of poor management, and the corporate bosses liked to shift the work structure around, changing lines of command, responsibilities and such.  It gave the appearance of improving things without actually changing the short term thinking and the extraction of unsustainable profits that was causing the business to dry up.  

Karen had recently got an internal transfer and changed work groups, mostly people she hadn't worked with before, so she really didn't know them very well, and as a consequence Chris hadn't met any of them.  He was having trouble keeping the names straight when she talked about them.

That Thursday, she got home from her work group dinner at 8:30 PM.  Faint smell of beer, but quite sober.  They had a long chat, well she chatted, and Chris listened.  Who said and did what.  The upshot was she thought it was a waste of time, and wished she could duck it in the future.

Meanwhile, Karen and Roy had been e-mailing a storm.  They blithely told each other all sorts of details about their lives.  Initially just drivel; do you drive too fast?  What god should do to punish road hogs, Prius drivers, and women who comb their hair while they drive.  Movies they liked or hated.  Sex only intruded in humorous bits and puns.  It was just the sort of thing a couple talks about when they are laying the ground work for their developing relationship.  

Within a week, their conversation moved on to the dangerous subject of their marriages.  Both professed great love and respect for their spouses, followed by the qualifing BUT.  The complaints started out about mundane stuff that's annoying. She leaves banana peels in the sink instead of putting them in the trash, he leaves the kitchen cabinet doors open, little stuff. 

After a couple of days it escalated to not so trivial stuff.  'She often comes home claiming to be really tired, so I know not to even hint about wanting sex.'  'He likes to grope me in the kitchen when I am doing something very unsexy, like making meatballs with my hands gunked up with raw egg and meat bits.'  

How serious these petty bitches really were was not a matter of debate, as neither had actually bothered to discuss their supposed dissatisfactions with their own spouse, which might have improved the situation so it was no longer an irritant.  Plus its human nature, when exchanging complaints, to exaggerate the problem so as to equal or top what the other person said.  Some of the complaints were made up out of whole cloth.

A lot of marriage is respect for the other.  Disparagement tends to break that respect and therefore weaken the marriage.  It increases dissatisfaction, creates estrangement, and makes breaking up more a more acceptable outcome.  It's easy to build resentment if reality is compared with fantasy.   Worst of all in relaying these things they kept from their spouses, they were committing emotional adultery.  

Part of an honest relationship is the willingness to tell the other party what they could do to better please you.  Of course they may not be willing to do it, but it tells them something about you they probably didn't know, and tells you something about them. 

Roy wanted to meet her for a long lunch while he was in town next week.  She agreed.  They would meet at a restaurant near his hotel, and far from her work place.  It was a great success, perhaps because she had to get back to work promptly, so there wasn't time for much besides lunch.  Besides, at that point, she wasn't ready to let it go too far.  She touched his arm or hand from time to time...he responded, and towards the end they held hands, and in a full body hug, they kissed on closed lips when they parted.  

Karen was delighted!  A lovely man wanted her 'in that way!'  For the first time in many years, she had a, well...what she once would have called a boyfriend.  When she got home, in bed with the lights out, it was Roy whose cock she was licking, and Roy who she encouraged to give her a vigorous fucking.  And in the afterglow of good sex, it was Chris she spooned with and slept beside.

They planned to meet again, next month, in the hotel.  She was planning to use the Thursday night work group night out as cover, but It didn't happen quite that way.  

The day before their tryst in the late afternoon, Karen found out that a big corporate guy from Germany was visiting, and wonder of wonders, her work group night out was held up as an example of the esprit de corps her idiot boss had promoted.  The German wanted to attend.  Talk to real people.  Shit!  It went from something she could easily duck to a 'must attend'.  

She called Roy, they arranged for a longish lunch date.  He suggested a picnic in a park, he would bring the food to save time, over and done with in an hour and a quarter tops.  She could make that much time, maybe a little more.  Philadelphia is famous for subs, made with breads from artesian bakeries and meats that match those found in Italy.  He was in South Philly and picked up one of these wonders, and some cherry poppers, which are actually cherry peppers stuffed with fresh mozzarella, and a couple of bottles of water to wash it all down as Karen didn't drink sodas or alcohol during the day.   She left work 15 minutes early, which lessened the likelihood she would be seen by coworkers getting into his car. 

Out the office door ten steps into his huge SUV.  Had the weather been nice, probably nothing would have happened.  But it was cold and wet.  Roy drove to a city park along the Delaware River, parked in the empty lot, and shut off the fresh air into the car, so as they ate lunch, the cold windows would fog over. 

It was like old times, seat belts off, sitting together in a very warm car in shirtsleeves, sharing good food and good company.  The eating lasted about ten minutes.  It was natural for him slide over next to her, put an arm around her and nuzzle her face in a prelude to a kiss.  Had the weather been fine, she would have stopped him right there.  Karen certainly knew enough not to risk getting caught snogging someone in public especially someone who was not her husband.  

To make it more intimate, a rain squall struck the parked car just then, causing it to tremble a bit from the rain gusts, causing her to notice that she was trembling with excitement.
She couldn't see out the window, so certainly no one could see in, and besides, who would be standing around out there in a driving cold rain?  She giggled and mentioned it was like the high poster beds in the old days.  Draw the curtains and you were snug and warm in your own little world.  

Their first kiss began as a brushing of the lips, with a nibble here and there.  His free hand was caressing her cheek and the back of her neck.  That beard wasn't as scratchy as she had imagined, and certainly felt nothing like her smooth shaven husband.  The kiss continued, lips opened, and while his hand remained on her cheek, his arm dropped so that as his hand petted her face, his fore arm was rubbing her tit.  It seemed incidental to Karen, but nothing he did was without purpose.  It wasn't as though he grabbed a tit and twisted a nipple.  He had skillfully escalated the pace, and keeping her in her comfort zone.  

With most women, certainly with Karen, it's important to make them feel they are in charge of the sexual progress.   Her hand went to his chest, as she felt the firm muscles there.  He accepted this mile escalation and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, but his hand stayed high on her chest stroking her collar bones and upper ribs to her neck.  An intimate advance, just a small escalation.   Pointedly not on her tits.  When their jaws dropped to let the tongues go into a French kiss, Karen glanced again at the fogged window, confirmed their privacy, closed her eyes, and her hand slid down into his lap and felt his cock.  

That was the signal!  The bells rang and the gate opened and they were off.  In short order, her blouse was undone, Roy was delighted to see she chose a bra that unhooked from the front, and her lovely breasts spilled out into his hands.  

Karen was re-living High School.  Making out in a car with a new boy for the first time in years.  In fact she and Roy had done this much years ago.  Well, they were past what she actually allowed Roy then.   For her part, she opened his shirt, and ran her hands inside, feeling his nearly hairless skin and hard little nipples.  He moved his kiss from her lips down her throat to her breasts, and teased with his nibbling lips and breath around her nipple.  

When he sucked one in and bit with his lips covering his teeth, she gasped and bucked her hips up.  As he continued to fondle her breast, and suck and nibble her nipples, his free hand started up her leg.  She opened them a bit, rewarding his touch, but her skirt was too long and too tight.  She was a manager, and management in this company did not wear short skirts.  Roy broke the silence:

"You best slip you skirt off so it doesn't get wrinkled."  


She blithely un-zipped it, and lifted her ass so he could slide it down her bare legs.  In so doing, saving time, he also slid her thong off as well.  Freed of any barrier, his hand cupped her pussy, and his mouth was back to her breasts.  Karen had laid back in surrender, and had her hands around his neck.  Without thinking, she directed his mouth.  He licked his hand to add to the moisture between her legs, and she began moving under his fingers.  Her clitoris was swollen along with her outer lips.  Roy was sending her higher and higher.  


Wife's Trip to New York



Now he could have dropped trow and fucked her then and there, but he was wiser than that.  Send her back to work with cum dripping out of her, not a plan.  Plus he sensed that Karen was too passive, maybe not quite ready for full adultery.  Well, her naked from neck to toes with his fingers in her cunt was certainly adultery, but they weren't fucking.  His trips to Philly would continue for a long time, and he had in mind developing a long term affair, not a quick conquest.  Nothing like eager pussy to make a quiet town more enjoyable.  

When she came on his hand and mouth, it was as good an orgasm as she had in years.  In its afterglow, she stopped his hand between her legs as she was too sensitive, She shivered as several little orgasmic tremors followed.   She was marveling that while he didn't do anything her husband didn't do, less in fact, the result was wonderful.  Maybe it was being in a public place, and too, she didn't know him sexually.  Didn't know what would come next, and that was exciting too.  

She didn't consider that the reason her husband was so predictable was in part that she generally refused any innovation and by default insisted on predictability.  In a way, in doing what she said she wanted, her husband had left the door open for someone else to be more exciting!  Roy was more 'not hubby' than he was 'Mr. Wonderful'. 

With her pleasure finished, She wiped herself with a leftover napkin, slid her thong and skirt on, and half dressed without prompting, she unbucked his belt, un-zipped him, and as he lifted himself, and she slid his pants and underwear down.   She noted a good size wet spot in his underwear where his pecker had been.  
No woman Karen's age is an inexperienced cock sucker, but Karen didn't enjoy doing it.  Like ironing, avoid it when you can, do it when you must.  She was eager to do so now.  His cock was pungent from the foreplay.  His crotch reeked of male sex smell and frankly she enjoyed the sight, the smell, the taste and the texture of his penis.  She looked it over a bit before she slid it into her mouth.  She would not admit it, but her mother once told her to never touch a penis that had any sign of redness or sores.  She noted none, and was well pleased with what she saw.  

He reached under her and fondled her tits.  He wasn't quite so big as her husband, but it didn't matter.  She wrapped her lips over her teeth, which allowed her to increase the pressure of her lips on his cock, beyond what lips alone could do.  She pulled completely off of him, and then plunged down on his cock, rubbing his cock head with considerable tongue pressure, while her hand slipped past his balls and lightly stroked and scratched from as far under as she could reach up across his balls.  He didn't last long, and as he ejaculated, she shifted her lips to a tight seal, and aimed the cock at her cheek to avid choking while he emptied himself into her mouth.  She swallowed it all and was pleased to see there were no dribbles.  

She had thought Chris was more than a bit perverted as once in a while he went down on her licking the cum oozing out of her.  So she was surprised when Roy lifted her head off of his cock and kissed her.  So self conditioned was she in her assumption that a bit of cum was abhorrent to most men, he had to force her mouth open to slide his tongue in to taste himself in her mouth. This man wanted her dirty, and dirty she would be!  

They had a comfortable ten minutes to get cleaned up before they had to go.  A bit of dabbing with the last of the napkins.  Clothing on, stepping outside in the rain briefly so as to stand up and tuck everything in...straighten seams and such.  They got out of the light rain back into the car, had a long sloppy kiss, and vowed same time next month.

She really did have to get back to work.  Probably next time supper and a few hours in his room.  She admitted to herself that she had crossed the line today.  But Roy was so nice, so attractive, so attentive, so safe, and so 'not from around here'.  He was perfect!   Exactly what she had been looking for.  

For Roy's part, he thought she was a nice piece of ass he could have for the asking.  His wife, who handled the family money, would never see anything questionable on his credit cards.  It was all covered by business.  Karen seemed to be an adventuresome sex partner who would deny him nothing!  Something he could look forward to when in Philadelphia for sex with no late night teary phone calls to his house that would destroy his marriage.  She had him sync his  Philadelphia trips to the night her work group met.  She could miss some of those.  

She wiped her belly and crotch with a damp towel in the office bathroom just to remove the least hint of sex, and didn't get much work done that afternoon.  It felt delicious to walk about the office, knowing what she had experienced at lunch, and to see that no one suspected.

The group supper was a disaster.  Dieter somebody or another announced dinner was on him!  Some dweeb who was probably now on the short list for layoff, announced that they were told clearly that no company money was to be spent on these dinners.  Dieter graciously insisted it was on him.  The dweeb proved he had a death wish when he asked a follow up question 'if from now on, was the company going to pay.  Mike the boss was furious.  Dieter ignored the question and proceeded to dominate the supper, telling long stories about victories he alone was responsible for.  

He then launched into an analysis as to how they could to do better in the USA, a subject he clearly knew nothing about.  Blah Blah Blah.  Someone asked him a question any first year marketing student would know, Dieter was so far off Karen literally started choking, which was good because it covered someone's not quite stifled laughter.  Thankfully Mike and Dieter left the restaurant a bit early.  For the first time the crew was really bonding, laughing at the raging ignorance of their corporate masters.    

So it ended well.  Laughter, a few drinks in her, sensitivity lingering between her legs.  She got home around nine feeling quite good.  By nine thirty, she joyfully had Chris continuing where Roy left off.  They had a good and proper fuck.  She asked Chris to lick her clean, and he did just that.  After a bit, remembering Roy, she pulled him up for a gooey kiss.  It might not have aroused Chris's suspicion if they had stopped at that.  But after a bit of chit chat, she started in again, sucking him hard, and they made very tender love.  Twice in one night, a rarity, on a work night absolutely unprecedented. 

Chris lay in bed listening to her noisy breathing, not snoring, but periodic snorts and whistles.   She certainly wasn't drunk, although he thought she might be a little hung over in the morning.  Something got her mo jo working tonight.  Her work group?  Hard to believe, she wouldn't have made Dieter up.  Something had been a bit off with her lately.  He had no reason to suspect anything was really wrong, and couldn't imagine her cheating, but...  

He was always up and about before Karen.  He had to leave for work an hour before she did.  This morning he enjoyed hearing her moan about her head as he handed her a cup of coffee and a glass of water.  They kidded each other to the effect she should have a dull dinner and a few beers more often.  

Having left for work before her, he usually got home well before her.  That day he had to work late, and forgot about his suspicions of the previous night.  The wife was dragging Friday.  Saturday she felt better.  Sunday night she was hot!  They had some more rollicking sex.  Lightening struck in the same place as it did Tuesday night.  Karen had an over night trip to Atlanta later in the week, and he was home alone.

He had the time, and remembered his earlier suspicion.  It could do no harm to think.  Communication is always a weak spot in cheating.  He saw her cell phone statements because they had two phones on the same plan (her company gave her cash for the business use o her cell).  He rarely glanced at the cell phone bill, but now he looked carefully.  She had avoided calling Roy and if there was the odd call to him, it was was buried in the large number of work related calls.  Looked OK to Chris, but he admitted ruefully what did he know? 

No way to access her work computer, but he doubted there would be much of anything on it as she certainly knew her company monitored it.  That left the old computer up stairs.  That would be a place to look.  Karen was too savvy about electronics to leave any easily found clues.  Still, he would have to do a quick look.  Maybe a hard drive search for 'love', or  'fuck'.  'Motel?'or how about Hotel?'.    

He remembered the key monitoring program his sister had installed as a condition of her kids staying with Uncle Chris and Aunt Karen a couple of years ago...when she and her husband went on vacation.  Was that still installed?  Well, he could check...maybe figure out how to use the key program. It took a while to fire up the old box and start searching.  Checking search history, and her e-mail account, nothing.  Key word search, zip.  It took a while to find and open the key stroke program.  Fortunately he kept the package inserts, and they were invaluable.  The damn thing had been running for years and had stored an enormous file!  

No wonder the computer was slowing down.  Paging back chronologically, He found an email account he didn't know about. And apparently she accessed it nearly every day!  Her password was right there.  So was everything she had written, but since it only recorded key strokes, it only had her side of the e mail exchange.    

He logged onto her e mail account.  She should have erased the mails as she read them, but we're talking about someone who compulsively saves stuff.  She was running true to form, it was all there.  She opened it about 2 months ago. The only e mails were between her and Roy Egan, a kid she went to school with.  High School.  Ancient history as she dating him for a few months Senior year.  Chris met her three years later.  He couldn't remember any details because she rarely mentioned him, and for sure not since they got married and left town.  

Son of a bitch!  right there in their last email, plans to fuck at his hotel while her husband thought she was at the team building dinner.  Fuck fuck fuck!  He zipped to the end and skimmed backward. Obviously he's been sweet talking her, he thought, well done, too.   Flattered her..threw in a dig at her husband every so often.  

They exchanged photos, which was good because Chris couldn't really remember him.  Looking at his picture, he still didn't remember him.  He looked to have all of his teeth.  Sort of normal looking.  You know, not buff, not fat.  Neat and clean with a shadow beard following his jaw line.  Lives up in Syracuse NYnow and comes into Philadelphia from time to time for business. He could stay at the Holiday Inn about 20 miles away.  They could meet...just for dinner and coffee...old times sake.  When was good for her?  

The e mail conversations were banal for the most part, reminiscences of "the old days."   At some point in the chat, nearly always Roy got on about the aggravating, thoughtless things his wife did to piss him off, and how she was a PIA (pain in the ass).   Karen would feel compelled to contribute what her husband did to piss her off.  Clearly Chris could see there was considerable invention in what she complained about.  "He swore a lot around the house, made inappropriate remarks to female friends who came over." Chris had his faults, but bad language and inappropriate remarks to females was not one of them.  

Chris was getting pissed.   Nearly every other chat Roy had with her zoomed onto sex. What his wife did, or didn't do.  What he liked to do.  She eventually got to exchanging stories of what they did in bed.  Karen asserted her husband had a foot fetish!  When it was Karen who asked him to suck her toes!  

He was bragging about the size of his cock, and asked about Chris's.  She described her husband's penis to the detail of telling him he was circumcised, his cum was a little bitter, which she didn't particularly care for.  As to size, she never measured it.  He told her to see if Chris measured up.  She guessed it was as long, but maybe a bit thinner.  

To Chris, this was adultery.  Sexual betrayal!  Roy was in his marital bed.  They were well over the line of what a spouse can talk about to someone they are sexually attracted to.  The line that really pissed him off was her remark about 'my husband pawing at my tits!'  'Well Fuck You Wifey!  If I was doing something you didn't like, tell me, not this bounder'.   

Clearly something sexual had happened at that noon meeting, but neither of them said what it was, other than it was in center city, in his rental car.  Well, he thought, how bad could that be?  No privacy there.

It was disturbing to read the intimacy that was growing between them.  She told Roy stuff about herself that Chris didn't know,   Or maybe she was bullshitting Roy, once they start to lie, who the fuck knows the truth?

Their e mails back and forth were not terribly long.  Well his were, she was more concise.  Chris was really pissed at reading the conversations as to the complaints and supposed defects in their marriage.  That was something you might tell a marriage councilor, but for Christ's sake, not a guy who was trying to fuck you.  Well obviously she wanted to fuck him.

He didn't have the time or the stomach to read them all in one sitting, and he couldn't read the most recent one without revealing that he was reading them because she had not opened it yet, but surely this was trouble.   He down loaded all the earlier stuff to a flash drive, backed out and shut the computer down.  Good god!  All that bull shit about loving their spouses, and then to do this!   

So what could he do?  Some husbands would shoot the two of them, or run out and bludgeon Roy, or accept the infidelity and want pictures of them to get their rocks off. But the question was what did Chris want?

He could stop it now, or at least stop it for now, but she's an adult and able to make her own choices.  Plus, who's to say she wouldn't do it again.  Ideally she would see what she had, the risks she was taking and end it.  If she wanted to continue with Roy as far as he cared, she could leave and go to him, but she would have a bruise the shape of his foot on her ass.     

He began to re think the childless marriage he was in. He had accepted that he would have no children out of love and loyalty for her.  He wanted children of his own, but being barren was not her fault.  Staying with her was part of 'for better or for worse', and he had decided he could live with that.   But her cheating gave him an out so he could dump her, and stay on the moral high ground...an out that was now attractive to take.  Chris was not one to act in haste.  He began to seriously plan the end of his marriage.

Ideally he felt honor bound to warn her before she 'went all the way', assuming they had not already done so, but if they did consummate their affair, he would wait until they were fully committed, and hit her like a ton of bricks.   Make sure she belatedly saw he had given her several chances to pull back from the brink.  And when she didn't, Blam!  He wanted her to feel pain, anguish and guilt.  The confrontation would have to be dramatic, better yet traumatic for her, but not risk getting himself sent to jail.   He only had a few days until their next meeting.  Not much time, but he did think he could interfere.  

He stayed up late that night.  Did some internet searches through a site intended to dig up, for a fee, the details of people you met on line.  Found out Roy's home address, names of the wife and children.  A recent resume on a job search website.   

He wished Roy was a real awful person, wife beater, child molester, whatever. But it looked like he was an OK guy with a medium to good credit score. He was resolved to break up their next meeting, and in the back of his head he was really hoping she would come to her senses and end it before it went any farther.

The next evening, he dropped the bomb.

"I was thinking about Roy Egan this afternoon.  What's he doing these days?  You ever talk with him?"

She was noticeably flustered by the question

"What on earth made you think of him?  I'm surprised you remember him at all?"

There was a long pause

"Karen, I asked if you knew what he was doing these days, and if you ever talked with him."

"Oh yes, well, I did run into him uptown, last time I was back home, what, three or four months ago?  I think he's working for an insurance company or something like that.  Why do you ask?"

 "And not heard from him since?"

"Look Chris, I don't appreciate this.  What on earth makes you think I have been talking with Roy?"

He noted with satisfaction she dodged the question again.

"Well I ran into a guy I use to work with.  He knew we were from Shelburne Falls, and he said he met Roy here in the city.  Roy was bull shitting that business brought him to Philadelphia from time to time, and he had lined up a babe to fuck when he was in town.  Someone from home he useto date in school." 

"So on this narrow thread I stand accuse of adultery. Well Fuck you! She jumped up planning to storm off.  When he barked at her:

"Sit the fuck down!  We're adults here, and I am not done with our conversation.  How many were in your graduating class?  About 100?"  she nodded "So that would be 50 women.  Figure three years worth, 150 women.  Of that lot maybe 60% were unsuitable for fucking, that leaves 60 prospects.  The vast majority would be in Massachusetts, so maybe 15 left the state.  Other than us, I don't know anyone from Shelburne Falls in Philadelphia, man or women, do you?"

She shook her head no.  
"So I might assume there are only a very few suitable women he could have been talking about, if in fact he wasn't bullshitting my friend.  You would be one of them, and also one he use to date?  Most likely you, wouldn't you say?  So it was reasonable to ask you when you had contact with him.  And you ducked the question once and admitted it only when pressed. 'Have you heard from him in the last month or two?"

"Well I think you are wrong to accuse me of screwing him, and no I have not had contact with him since I got back home.  OK?  Are you satisfied?"

"Sure.  It's all I asked.  It's just that Roy is what my dad would have called a whore master.  He'd fuck anything he could talk into spreading their legs or cheeks.  Karen, I think you already know, but to be perfectly clear, I won't put up with you having sex with someone else.  It's a marriage breaker for me and I assume for yourself as well.  Do you agree?"  

"I catch you screwing another woman, and I'll do a Nelson on you."

"A Nelson as in wrestling?"

"No!  I think it was Willey Nelson.  He was screwing another woman, got totally drunk, and came stumbling home one night.  His wife got him into bed, discovered the evidence, and an hour or so later had her bags packed in the car ready to leave, and then came back with a baseball bat.  She wrapped the sheet around him tightly, stitched it shut.   She blindfolded him, and beat the shit out of him.  Broken ribs, teeth, arm, nuts...beat all to hell.  He shit and pissed himself.  That's what you have to look forward to if I catch you screwing around."  

Despite her bravado, she wasn't happy with the conversation.  She was forced to make a direct lie, and frankly that probably bothered her more than her infidelity.  Funny the distinctions we make when honor, or lack thereof are concerned.    

The resulting emails were blistering.  Karen accusing Roy of bragging about the bagging, and Roy vehemently denying the accusations.  It died down in the end.  Karen was worried that her husband might be suspicious, and she even changed her password, not stopping to think that if Chris had it, her goose would already be cooked.  She finally convinced herself that he knew nothing, and sadly for their marriage, the affair progressed.




Wife's Trip to New York



A week later, Chris who knew the two of them were still sending each other romantic e mails again made a last try.  He had heard on NPR a story about spouses in erotic conversations in chat rooms, and sometimes setting up a meeting with those people.  Most of the commentators thought that erotic chats with someone you didn't know were harmless enough if you weren't married, but for married people it was troublesome.  

The concept was emotional adultery.  You were sharing intimacies and personal feelings that you might not even share with your spouse.  In essence instead of discussing difficulties with the spouse, who might be able to change their behavior to meet the expectations, it was with the Chat friend, who had no particular interest in helping the marriage. If the chat friend wished to take advantage, they could offer advice and comments that would drive wedges between the spouses.   Like getting marriage counseling from someone who wanted to break up the marriage so they could fuck one of you.  

Chris told her about this over coffee after supper one that evening and said:
"So what do you think?  Is it harmless for a guy to chat anonymously with a woman, tell them all sorts of very personal things, but adultery if he knows or meets the woman he's talking to?"

She thought a moment  "Hmm.  Remember years ago when there was talk about making rape a capital offense, but someone pointed out that that would encourage the rapist to kill the victim?   Seems to me this is similar.  Talking about something is never the same as doing it, so it's not adultery in either case.  I grant you the anonymous chat is better by far.   I think it is wrong, however.  Just where is the line?  I mean, tongue kisses, groping, hands on gentiles, oral sex?    I would be progressively ripped at you on all of those things.  And if you screwed someone, it would be all over!"

"Well let's stick to chats.  If they told each other in detail what went on in the marital bed.  And both claimed their spouses were so-so in bed but too prudish, to unwilling to move from vanilla sex?  Of if they trash talked their spouse?  Or to discuss their sexual fantasies that they hadn't shared with their spouse?"  

"Well Chris, I think that's over the line.  At a minimum, spouses have the right to expect privacy between themselves.    Now it does make a bit of a difference if you are talking to a man or a woman.  Women do discuss things among themselves that men don't."

"Well, I suppose woman to woman would be more acceptable.  Would it make a difference if the chat was with an old flame, as opposed to someone you didn't know?"

"Well, husband that's a no brainier.  Sex talk to someone you know and are or were sexually attracted to is clearly an inch from adultery.  I never heard of emotional adultery, but I get the idea, and that would be it for sure.  Now myself, I wouldn't have such chats to begin with, because they set the stage for screwing around.   I mean come on!"

"I think you're right.  Sharing intimacies can be adultery especially if coupled with the intent to carry it out, and I haven't any tolerance for that either!"  

This little talk worried her, but she checked and indeed that topic was on NPR that afternoon, so it was natural to talk about it.  It might have cooled Wifey's responses a bit, but of course not Roy's. The e-mails continued and the intimacy developed like a cancer.  To Wifey's credit she stopped him several times when he was digging for more details of their marriage and sex practices, but for the most part told him what he really wanted to hear by giving her sexual preferences in more general answers. 

Roy told her his Philly client was on for Thursday afternoon.  He would fly in Thursday morning, rent a room in center city, and fly back to Syracuse at the crack of dawn Friday morning.  So they were confirmed for this Thursday night.   

As it happened, Chris's boss had been talking about taking their wives out to dinner to celebrate a big order Chris has brought into the firm.  Chris saw the date they made, and took the opportunity to interfere with Karen and Roy, So he set the dinner up for Thursday night.  He delayed telling the wife about it until Wednesday, the evening before.  

"Karen, I hate to spring this on you at the last moment, but the boss and his wife want to take us out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate the Chicago order I brought into the firm.   For them it's a happy celebration, for us I'd like it to be a happy celebration of our love for one another." 

She muttered about her office team building supper, realized it was stupid and then said:

"I have a conflict with the idiot work team, but no doubt about it, your dinner is more important, and certainly will be at a better restaurant, so what time do we have to leave here."  

She e mailed Roy that night to call it off. Roy called Karen's office late the next morning, and said he shifted his schedule, and could she get away mid afternoon?  The answer was...sure.  How about 3 PM? That would leave them a couple of hours.  Time enough.

She worked well over 40 hours most weeks (at no extra pay) so it was no big deal to get a few hours off.  Ironically she told her boss she had to shop for a dress to wear for a fancy dinner her husband was taking her to!  The details of their motel sex were vanilla suck and fuck.  The two of them weren't very original anyway.  Two orgasms for Roy, one and a half for her.  She cleaned herself up and got home with plenty of time to shower and change for dinner.

The evening was a good time for everybody.  The dinner went well.  The four of them laughed and had a good time.  Chris was happy thinking he had kept Karen from adultery. They had some marital fun that night, nice...maybe a little better than normal for Chris.  Karen had a spectacular day.  Three point five orgasms and two cocks in one day.  A Thursday to remember!  She conclude Roy was a tad shorter than Chris, not that it mattered. 

It was almost a week later when Chris caught up with their e mails.  Definitely they met that afternoon, and was sort of implied they fucked, but not stated explicitly.  So his talk had no effect.  For sure, if they hadn't fucked already, they would soon.  He got serious about planning for life after Karen.  Had a lawyer draft a divorce agreement...moved money out of joint accounts.  Canceled a bunch of junk credit cards in their joint names, and listed all active credit card account information and access information against the day when he would lower the boom.  
In the middle of this, a foreclosure property he had been negotiating to buy was coming to a successful conclusion, but if he was going to get a divorce, best not to have it in his name.  Chris's dad stepped in as a straw man to buy the place.   It was a large lot with a 1920's cottage in deplorable shape, but with an occupancy permit.  He would save himself the cost of an apartment when he moved out and have a project to keep him too busy to feel sorry for himself.

In the weeks thereafter, Roy laid a guilt trip on Karen for canceling their supper and evening together at the last minute, and began pushing for a couple of days together for a dirty weekend in New York, but nothing was happening.  She politely prevaricated, or turned him down cold each time he suggested a get together.

Roy was striking out.  Good for her.

Their chat took a new turn as they now talked openly about their time together.  Praise for his cocksmanship, her tits and ass.  He had the balls to ask her again to shave her pussy, and added a request to wear an ankle bracelet.  She resisted temptation for a week.  The e mails were getting more intimate.  They were trading sex stories...real or imagined hot activities and techniques.  Then the beginning of the end.  After a lot of bullshit, she agreed to spend two nights in New York with him.  Chris read all this and wondered how she would set it up.

He didn't have to wait long.  She told him she had a training course in the city, and her employer was paying for it.  It was a great distinction for her!  Paid for 100%.   He let her go on about it.  Agreed what a good thing it was.  Even took her out to supper to celebrate.  Praised her to her parents.  Also emphasized how much he loved her etc, etc.  

She suggested she shave her pussy for him.  Something different.  He told her he liked hair down there, but if she fancied shaved genitals why didn't she shave him instead?  They had fun, the two of them, and shaved he now is, and her pussy remains as furry as it's namesake.

Two days later she came home wearing a slave bracelet Roy had sent to her work address.  Karen claimed she bought it.  "I've always wanted one!  It's just plated, but I think it looks quite nice!"  

"You know what they're called?"

"Duhhh! An ankle bracelet!  What else?"

"That too!  They're called a slave bracelet.  Women only wear them when their 'master' gives them one.  Of course it does not necessarily reflect a true master-slave relationship, just that the wearer acknowledges the dominance of the giver.  You want a slave bracelet, I'll give you one.  So tell me, who's whispering in you ear telling you to shave your cunt, and now wear a slave bracelet?  I'd like to know!"

"Nobody!  Chris, honestly you have to stop being so jealous. I never heard that about ankle bracelets.  Nobody's dominating me. It's just a piece of jewelry!  It's a matter of style.  As to the other, grooming down there is very common these days.  I'm very unusual in not trimming it.  I thought you'd like it, that's all!  I'm sorry I brought it up!" 

He got the agreement on the house, and thanks to having his financials ready to go settled on it a week later.  His dad thought he was nuts and kidded him to shore up the roof before he slept in the place.   It was the ultimate fixer upper.   

As it came down to the end, she was fretting about how to get to New York City.  
From their house, you could take the light rail into Philadelphia, and then switch to Amtrak to New York which is expensive, or take light rail from Philadelphia to Trenton, and change to another light rail in Trenton which is slower but cheaper.   The quickest way is to drive, which takes about 2 hours, but she would never do that.  She hated driving in traffic, plus tolls are high, and parking is expensive when you get there.
She had taken the train into Philadelphia from time to time, but was uncertain how to change trains and whatnot. 

He laid out the bait.  He'd take a half day off using comp time, and make the hour drive to take her to Trenton and see her to the right train.  That was wonderful!  She was relieved!  All her worries were lifted.  She idly thought 'he was such a good husband to offer to do that.  Such a good husband!'

She had no clue how miserable that trip would be!  Just to be sure it was still on, Chris called the hotel and asked if they were holding a room for her.  No, there was no reservation under that name.  

"Perhaps under the name Roy Egan?"

BIngo! Confirmation!  As if he needed it.

One other stroke of luck the evening before she was to leave, the Wife's wedding ring and engagement ring were on the bathroom sink.  The stone in the engagement ring was his grandmothers.  He pocked the engagement ring, went to his shop and popped the diamond out, and put the ring back.  

She called the next morning from work to tell him about the lost stone.  He promised to search for it that weekend.  He had taken Thursday afternoon off as well as Friday, but she didn't know about Friday.  He had a hell of a plan!  Her cell phone would be out of commission. The trip up to New York would be misery itself, and with luck she wouldn't be able to blame any of it on him.

While she was getting ready for the trip, he grabbed her cell phone, opened it up and slipped a tiny piece of saran wrap over the battery contacts and closed it.  The trick had worked when he tested it the week before, and it worked great now!  Dead as a door nail!  He dropped it back into her purse.   

She came down the stairs looking business like with a solid color sport coat and matching skirt that came to her knees.  Asked out o habithow she looked.  

"Why very lovely in a nice business-like way!"  

The blouse looked funny to him...out of place.  He walked over to her and opened her buttoned sport coat.  She was wearing a white silk blouse through which he could clearly see a lacy black strapless bra.  

"Forgotten the dress code have you?  If you can see down it, up it or through it, don't wear it?  Have you been wearing this blouse to work?  It's a real 'fuck me' blouse!"

He made up a ditty on the spot:

"See my Bra, see my tits!  
Next I'll show my nasty bits!  

Whoever sees this will know you're hot to fuck.  What the hell kind of business are you in these days?  Only a slut would wear that in public without her husband!"

She let out a sob and ran back to the bedroom to change.  In the car she was quiet, eyes puffy, gazing out the window.  

"Seriously, have you worn that blouse to work before?"

"No."

"Then why today?"

"Well, it's New York.  They dress up more there."

"For a training program on internet sales analytics?   Who else is going to be there that you intended to impress?"

"Just let it go, Chris.  I shouldn't have worn it.  I didn't mean anything by it...didn't mean anything."

She looked away from Chris and said nothing more.  First loosing the diamond in her engagement ring.  Then his reaction to her blouse.  She realized now she should have changed at the hotel.  So late we get so smart!  She was sure Chris didn't know why she was really going to New York, but it was stupid to make him suspicious...things going wrong...lost in thought.  Remorse for what she was doing on the edge of her conscious, she didn't notice when they passed the exit for the Trenton train station.  She was thinking about Roy.  She liked the excitement of a lover, but this particular lover, maybe not so much.   So maybe he was a starter lover.  That's a thought.  He's not that good, really, but it at least different and because of that it was exciting.  What the hell, they were ten miles past Trenton, entering the NJ turnpike when she looked around and said:

"Where are you going?  This isn't the way to the train station!"

He pushed the button on the steering wheel that changed the CD as the song ended.  

"Hey, where you been?  You're in another world.  Trenton was 10 miles back there.  What the hell!  You're my wife who is precious beyond price to me!  I'm driving you to the hotel.  Save you all that aggravation dragging your bag here and there.  You need to be rested to learn the tricks of your new trade"  

Laying the flattery on a bit thick.   He was punning on the slang about whores doing tricks for his own benefit.  He knew it would go over her head.
She demurred, 

"'You don't have to put yourself out, It's OK! I can nap on the train."

...and so on.  Meanwhile, Trenton was further and further behind.  She fell quiet for a few minutes, and pulled out her cell phone to text Roy that her husband was in tow.
That's when she discovered it was dead.   

"Chris!  My phone is dead!"

"'Probably had a battery fault.  Lucky it didn't catch fire!  You can pick up a replacement battery in the city tomorrow.  Here, use mine." 

as her handed his phone to her.  

"I would but I don't know Janet's number.  I have it stored in my phone."

"So call 411.  Janet Kaship lives in Radnor you said?"

"That'd be her home number!  Not her cell."

"Surly whoever answers the phone at her house will know her cell phone number?  Or call to your office.  Everybody there must have it."

"Aaah?  Well never mind, I'll see her there.  It doesn't matter."

Chris was thinking 'Blessed are those who understand the meaning of things!'  I sure understand what's going on here.  She didn't want Roy to come rushing out of the bar to greet her, or coming up behind her and grabbing her tits in the lobby.  he never met the guy and he hate him, and some of that's rubbing off onto her.  And Roy is a secret from the work people too.

Chris had been playing a low stress, mellow CD's in the car.  Now she noticed the special CD he had put together.  Only cheating woman songs on it.  There must be a lot of cheating wives in Texas, as country music seemed to be nothing but he/she/ the dog 'done me wrong' songs.  The third song ended with the wife and lover being killed by the husband, her begging forgiveness as she bled out.  They were having their effect on Karen, and the stress of the ride, her bowels were turning to water.  She asked him to pull into the next rest stop so she could use the john.  The rest stop was a few minutes away.

"Sure.  You want a coffee?"

"No, I'll just get some water.  My stomach is a little upset."  

She didn't look so good either.  Color off, and a hint of tremors in her arms that she sometimes gets when she's really upset.  He got a Starbucks and one of those little biscotti for himself.  This was working out just fine. 

She took a while.  She just about made it to the toilet.  One nice thing about diarrhea is it doesn't take long to evacuate.  Just relax the sphincter, and let it rip.  She washed up, and was going to borrow someone's phone to call information, get the hotel number, then call Roy's room, and warn him. She realized she was getting in earlier than planned, he was coming in later.  So there was nothing that needed to be done, or could be done now.   

Back on the road, the cheating songs resumed.  She sort of winced every now and then when she heard particularly poignant lyrics.  She was wishing she could call Roy and tell him not to come.  Call the weekend off.  Say she was sick, or something.  God these songs.  Was Chris listening to the words?  She was, and it was driving her to the end of her patience.  She became restless under the incessant din of the pain of broken relationships, and to delay the inevitable plea to 'Change the damn CD' Chris began humming along with that one by Dr John, "How Come My Dog Don't Bark When You Come Round No More."  She was looking pasty faced.


"You feeling OK.  You don't look so good!"

"Well, I'm a little off.  I may go really light on supper."

"Well, I'll see you to your room then, make sure you're OK."

She protested as best she could, but what the hell, she couldn't reasonably forbid her husband from carrying her bag up.  He graciously poo pooed her objections.

When Kenny Rogers tear jerker Lucille came on 'Four hungry children and a crop in the field' she had had enough.

"Chris, can't you play something else?  Something more upbeat?"

"Sure."

He jumped to the next CD from the sound track of Brother Where Art Thou.  She liked that one.

Chris was pleased with himself.  He thought he might indeed be giving her the worst time of her life.  It probably was too late to change anything.  If she had pleaded sickness and told him to turn around and take her home, their marriage might have survived, but she was made of sterner stuff.  She soldiered on towards New York and her fate.  She leaned back limp in her seat and closed her eyes, trying to compose her thoughts and suppress the fear in her stomach. 

They had both been singing along with 'Down to the River to Pray.' nice melody but too repetitious for Chris's taste, but she liked it.  He always enjoyed her singing; she has a clear, lovely, unpretentious voice, and a happy woman singing to herself around the house it a delight to all.  

When "You Are My Sunshine' came on, He sang from the first words and reached out for her hand.  She squeezed his hand and joined in. Her dad use to sing the first couple of verses to her and her sister over and over again as his love song to them.  It wrenched her out of her funk, filled her with childhood memories of love and safety and comfort.  She squeezed his hand again as a silent I love you.  They sang in full voice together and her spirits lifted a bit.  That is until half way through when they reached the cheating wife verses that her dad didn't sing:  




Wife's Trip to New York



"You told me once dear
you really love me 
and no one could come between 
but now you left me to love another
You have shattered all of my dreams"

Her voice faltered and faded, as she didn't know these words. She hadn't ever paid attention to these verses before.

Chris continued singing lustily: 

'All my dreams dear
seem to leave me
When I awake my poor heart breaks
won't you come back and make me happy
I will take all of the blame'.

 Her hand went limp, and a moment later, she slumped back into her seat.  

"Why'd you stop singing?"

"I didn't know all the words.  I'm just tired.  Would you mind turning off the music?"

"You're acting very strange.  You're fine one minute, and not the next.  What's bothering you?  You're not facing Judgment at Nuremberg.  It's just a business  training course, isn't it?"

She snapped at him

"I don't feel so good, and I have to go to this weather I want to or not.  Just leave me alone.  I'm not having a good day."

Her eyes were shut.  She wasn't sleeping; she was in that state of longing for oblivion, but not being able to get there.  She silently muttered 'lord, why have you forsaken me?' while Chris blathered on about staying in a posh hotel, being paid to learn new tricks for her business and then making more money.  Plus having a couple of nights on the town!  Wow!  Going on about restaurants he had looked up on line, when she Interrupted him:

"Chris. I'd like to rest my eyes a bit.  Could you just...just drive.  I want to take a nap."

"Sure, but you won't get much rest.  We're nearly at the tunnel so we'll be there in a few minutes."

He had no problem finding the place.  Nice hotel, valet parking.  A bell man grabbed her overnight bag, she raced ahead into the lobby in case Roy was early.  The valet was also right there, Chris took the receipt and followed a few steps behind.  No sign of Roy, but then she had to face the front desk.  Of course they had no reservation under her name.  Chris jumped in and asked for Janet Kaship, Albert Cohen, and even the Interlock Training Program.  The clerk said no to all of that.  

"Wait!  You don't have a conference room rented tomorrow morning for the Interlock Training Program?"

She was near to tears when the clerk said:

"No, nothing like that.  But no matter madam!  We have rooms available for tonight.  I am very sorry for our mistake with your reservation and this inconvenience.  I can offer you an upgrade at no charge.  A very lovely room."

At $280 a night Chris guessed he could give her an upgrade.  Ouch!  Karen pulled out her personal credit card.

"Ahh... aren't you suppose to use the company American Express card for all business expenses?"

"Oh!  Right.  Thanks for reminding me."

She tried to ditch Chris in the lobby, but he followed her and the bellman to the room.  She headed directly into the toilet and stayed awhile, doing whatever while he tipped the bellman.  Curious to see what she brought with her and under the guise of being helpful, he began unpacking her suitcase.  Her blouses and skirts such he hung up.  Her best underwear, matched sets she wore for special occasions.  He put these in the top drawer of the dresser.  Cosmetic and toiletry cases on the desk.  

Looking in the various pockets of the overnight case he literally saw red when he pulled the $125 silk teddy he got her for Valentines day a couple of years ago.  Whether by accident or on purpose, it hadn't been in plain sight, she had it tucked in the zippered outside pocket of the suitcase.  He pushed her cloths along the closet rod until they were all to one side, and hung the teddy sort of by itself on the other side, twisting the wire hanger so it faced you when you looked in.  You couldn't miss it.  He deliberately left the closet door open.  He was thinking; 'She wore it one fucking time for me.  That was it.  

Her excuse to not wear it was that she knew he would rather see her nude and would just take it off of her.  He thought the point of the lingerie was to get her feeling sexy about herself, but it didn't work.  She'd think her husband had to say nice things to her even if she was fat and ugly?  Of course she wasn't fat, and certainly not ugly, but apparently she was excited enough about Roy to look forward to wearing it for him.  Well, good riddance to her and her fucking teddy.    

He pulled the battery out of her phone, pocketed the scrap of plastic and reassembled it.  If she took it to a phone store, they'd see the plastic and she'd know he doctored it.  Worked fine.  He shut it off so it wouldn't beep. 

She came out and sat on the bed.

"How are you feeling?  Up for a bit of connubial bliss?"

"Oh god no!  I'll be OK though.  Don't worry.  You better be going, you've got a long ride ahead of you.  Thank you for bringing me here honey."

"Not up to a bit of loving?  Well I wouldn't expect you to fill up on bread when a hunk of juicy meat was coming your way.  And it's also true, it's a long journey away from here that I'm facing.  So you're really getting paid for this trip?  It's work?"

"Damn it!  I told you!  Yes!  What was that other stuff you said. About juicy..."

Chris learned long ago you don't have to answer all the questions put to you.

"I unpacked your suitcase for you; underwear in the drawer the rest hanging up in the closet...right.  Work it is.  How about supper?  We can eat down stairs.  They have a decent special advertised in the elevator...or go out."

"It's kind of you to offer, but it's all right.   Besides, I'm a little off of my feed.  I'll lie down for a bit, and order something from room service later.  You need to get home, I can sleep in a bit, whereas you've got to be up early."

He thought about the servicing she would be getting in her room.  Considered pushing the dinner bit.  He guessed it was 50/50 they would run into Roy in the hotel restaurant, but frankly he was despairing of the evening changing anything.  This was ripping him up inside.  He really had held some hope in his mind that she would, even at this late date, return to him.  C'est La Vie!  The point of no return.  Time to move on.

"OK.  Forget for a moment about me and the ride back and such.  I want you to tell me what YOU want me to do.  Ok?  No reference to me or it's affect on me. Do YOU want me to leave you, or do you want me to stay with you?"

"Chris, you have to get up early tomorrow, and..."

"Karen, you're not listening to me.  This is serious.  I want you say, without regard to consideration for me, either 'I want you to stay with me'. or 'I want you to leave me.' "

"Chris what are you trying to say?"

She really didn't understand what he was saying.   He sat next to her, took her left hand in his, and said 
"Say one or the other 'I want you to leave me!' or 'I want you to stay with me.'  Those exact words and nothing more."

His heart cracked as she said without emotion, almost a mumble "I don't understand you.  I guess... I guess I want you to leave me." 

He stood up and walked towards the door.

"Ok.  You made your choice.  That's settled.  Look, if you're having a good time and want to stay up here an extra night...I mean you really don't have to get back until Sunday night.  It's fine with me.  I've got a lot of stuff to do...oh I got your cell phone working."

"Oh thank you.  I don't think I'll stay an extra night.  But we'll see.  Thank you for driving me all the way up here.  I love you!"

Chris didn't want to touch her, so he blew her a kiss and headed out the door.  He hoped she would run after him, or call him, tell him to return to her, but there were no calls that night.  He hadn't really expected her to call.  Maybe she would if she had noticed he had hung up the red teddy, but Chris hadn't cleared the hotel, when Roy called her on her cell phone.  He told her his room number, and she ran out the door not even glancing at the closet.

His dad had signed the contract on the house earlier in the week, so he stopped by and had supper with him.  Got the keys and other paper work.   Condolences on the divorce.  Late that night he canceled the last of the joint credit cards, split the money in the savings accounts, setting a new one up in just his name.  

While his wife was sprawled naked in the bed, being fingered and fondled by Roy, Chris was getting on with the rest of his life.  First thing in the morning he picked up the truck he had rented, hired four day laborers to empty out the shop in their garage and his lumber supply from the loft, and take it to the shed behind his new house.   Three of them had family members willing to clean houses, so he had hired them as well. The new house needed a thorough cleaning before it could even be painted, The house might be a wreck, but it would be a clean wreck.  

They had the shop moved in by 3 PM, and he left two of the men to help the women cleaning the new place, and took the other two to clean up the garage and cellar where shop had been.  That night a friend of his came over and they packed cloths and split the kitchen utensils and such.  The wife called and basically bullshitted, and asked if he minded her taking him up on his offer and staying an extra day.  He told her the truth, she should go right ahead, it made no difference to him.  He lied, he needed one more day.

She said he sounded exhausted, which he was, and both were glad to hang up.   Her because she felt guilty talking to him while in bed with Roy, him because anything more to do with her was time wasted from his life.  He could have ruined her weekend by telling her what she would come home to, but there was no point in being cruel.  Her life was her own now.  Nothing to do with him.   

The next day he hired the same crew plus a couple of their cousins.  Two of the men started scraping, priming and caulking the front porch, door and windows.  The rest were cleaning windows, walls, woodwork and floors.  By mid afternoon, the women were finishing the cleaning.  The place looked vastly better with clean windows, walls and floors.  He had thought the bathroom and the powder room were trash, but the tile and fixtures, shorn of their grime, the art nouveau tiles came up like new!  They were careful around the fire places, set with Mercer tiles.  The place was a gem.

By evening, his stuff was moved in, the boxes emptied, and the refrigerator filled with food.  After supper, he returned to what he now thought of as his wife's house for the last time, and left two copies of the divorce papers with 'sign here! Post its. He placed it on a kitchen chair as the table had been his grandmother's and was now in his house.  His wedding ring on top of the divorce papers was a nice touch.  Left a nice note, too.  Nothing nasty.

Sunday the wife called at noon to see if he would pick her up at the Trenton train station.  She was furious at being be told that he was too busy and she was on her own as he hung up on her and shut his phone off.  She called an hour later and left a message saying she was taking Amtrak through to Philadelphia and would be home about nine PM.   Chris was exhausted and took a shower and an afternoon nap.  He turned his phone on at 8 PM.

The shit hit the fan at 9:30 Sunday night.

"Chris!  Where the hell are you?  What's this all about!  You're asking for a divorce!  What the Hell!  What's the matter with you?"

"Hello Karen.  How was your weekend.  Did you have a nice time?  Look, you know why the divorce, sign the things, they are reasonably fair and we'll be done with it."

"It was just a training course for my job... if you didn't want me to go you should have...

"Look, this is not something to talk about over the phone, and I'm not particularly eager to see you, but I suppose we need to talk face to face at some point..  Let's meet at the Robin Hood Pub at 8 PM Friday.  I would appreciate it if you would refrain from contacting me until then."

She sounded hysterical
"I don't want a divorce!  I don't want to wait until Friday.  Where are you?  What's the matter..."

Her words came out as an unpunctuated string of Babel.

"Look, I could give a shit about what you want.  Friday 8 PM.  Or never!  And never's good for me too!"

He hung up and turned the phone off.  He spent the last hours of the day reading a book, and looking at the moonlit yard.  The bones of a lovely garden were out there in mature trees and shrubs, unkempt and over grown. The skeleton of his marriage clouded his mind.

He got home the next day at 4PM.  During the day she called three times, as well as her mother and brother.  Out of courtesy, he returned her mom's call.  He wasn't particularly close to her, but she did have some brains although they weren't in evidence in this conversation.  She reamed him a new asshole.  Her daughter!   Not allowed to go to a training class?  He can't be so controlling etc.  It was humorous, actually.  When she wound down:

"Grace!  Grace!  Look, this isn't the first divorce you've been involved with is it?"

"No. but this is my..."

"Quiet a minute.  If you've ever listened to one side of a divorce and then the other side, you'll have figured out that people don't necessarily tell you the whole truth?  In my case, I'll tell you my side eventually, but nothing for now.  It's for her and me to sort out.  By all means, listen to her and be there for her, but I will tell you truly, she doesn't have a leg to stand on.  So unless you want to talk about something else, I'll bid you good night."

She urged him to talk to Karen and said good night.  He also returned her brother's call.  He liked him, but didn't trust him.

"Hey Bro!  So you moved out!  Where you at?"

"I rented a place.  I'm local, but no insult, but I really don't want to be bothered with visitors."

"I'm good with that.  So why'd you dump her?"

"Well Ken, I'll tell you what I told your mom.  I have good and sufficient grounds, but I'm not inclined to spread it around.  There's two people that know why I bailed out of the marriage, and I'm not talking, so ask your sister."

"I did.  She claims she's innocent."

"Far be it for me to break the bubble.  Tell you what.  Believe her.  After all, she wouldn't lie to her family, would she?  You have to deal with her for years to come, not me.  Tell the family that l went nuts, or...whatever.  Make me the goat!  I don't really care.  That said, while I doubt we'll be sharing a beer any time soon, tell the family, when we meet in the street, I'll be civil to all, including your sister.  Look, I'm about to start supper.  Take care, and thanks for calling."

Chris checked her e mail account.  'Son of a bitch!' he thought.  She and Roy were discussing what he might know, how he might have found out about what was going on, and how to spin him.  Which in a way was good for Karen.  Had she dumped Roy, it wouldn't have affected their soon to be extinguished marriage, but then she wouldn't have a horny male to talk to during the divorce process.  

His spare time that week was spent outside, working on the carriage shed that now contained the work shop.  It really had been unsafe, waiting for a good wind storm to drop it.  He had to cable it and pull it into square before the braces, gussets and some structural pieces could go in to keep it upright.  It was slow, careful work, as a mistake could bring the whole thing down on his head.  

Think the job through.  Measure twice, install come-alongs and temporary braces.  It took his mind off of the troubles.  While he affected a nonchalance about the destruction of the marriage, it was largely a facade to the world.  Laughing on the outside, crying on the inside about summed it up.

The phone calls tapered off as the week went by.  Why bother to call if no one will answer? He was dreading the meeting.  Like hitting your thumb with a hammer, you see the blood under the nail.  You know you have to chuck a small drill in the drill press, put your throbbing thumb under the spinning bit and carefully pull the handle and drill a relief hole in the thumb nail.  A bit of hurt now saves a lot later. 

Friday night he had a nice supper at an Indian restaurant, and wandered into the pub at 8:10 to find Karen waiting.  She dolled herself up, but her finger nails were fake.  He guessed she was chewing them again.

"Oh Chris.  I am so glad to see you.  Where are you living?"

"My Dad bought a tumble down place in Lambertville.  I moved in while I fix it up...gives me something constructive to do.  Idle hands the devil's workshop and all that.  Speaking of workshop, your expense account go through all right for the Tricks of The Trade Training course up there?  I bet you got a good grade."

"They don't give grades for commercial courses.  Of course the expense account went through.  Why wouldn't it?   Look, I don't know what got into you, but I, for one, don't want a divorce!  Why are you doing this to me?"

"Shame sucking up the teacher didn't do you any good then. I would think you might assume I'm reacting to what you did to me.  Doesn't that seem logical?"

"I didn't do anything to you!  All I did was go to a training class!  So what!"

"So I must be mistaken?  OK either way.  The reasons don't really matter.  Chalk it up to an excuse on my part.  Sign the divorce papers, and let's not waste time mouthing lies.  Mail the damn things to my lawyer, you've got the envelope.  We'll talk again when he gets them.  Meanwhile I got work to do.

You find everything you need about the house.  I left the bills and stuff in the desk?"

"Chris.  Forget the house, forget the bills.  I'm serious.  Why the sudden demand for a divorce."

"Why...I hear you're telling people I don't satisfy you in bed.  You have to fake orgasms.  Our sex life is boring.  I thought I'd be a nice guy and save you having to be furtively fucking around.  Make you more respectable.  And you give me shit for it.  Not fair by half!"

"Chris!  Who is filling you head with such shit!  I've never faked an orgasm with you in my life!  Our sex life is fine!"

I held my hand up.

"Let's end the bullshit.  I could play cat and mouse with you, but frankly you're not worth the effort.  You've been fucking around on me.  We both know it. There was no god damn training course in New York.  You had the fucking gall to let me, Mr. Goodhusband the cuckold, deliver you to your lover for a dirty weekend.  You think there would be no consequences for that?"

"What on earth made you think that!  It's preposterous!"

"I don't blame you for trying to lie your way out of it.  In your place I would probably try that too.  I'm just glad you've found someone you want to wear the Teddy and the slave bracelet for.  Shame to have nice things and not enjoy them."  

"Oh so that's what is bothering you!  I brought it along for you, but I was too sick to be able to do anything with it like I wanted to."

"You silly cunt.  You've never been good thinking on your feet.  You didn't know I was taking you to the hotel until we were half way there. 

Look, when I was getting my stuff, I put all the house related papers in that envelope.  Hang on to them.  And by the way, this month's mortgage is due."

"The hell with the house.  I am not fucking around!  I don't know who told you, but it's not true."

"The mortgage and the house is in your name.  Don't pay it and you loose the house.  It's tedious to argue when you're unreasonable.  Let's go back to what I said earlier.  You told someone that I didn't satisfy you in bed and you had to frequently fake orgasms with me.  Think a moment.  I rather think you only told that to one person... Remember who?"

The blood drained out of her face. 

"Chris, I'm so sorry!  How long...when did...why didn't you say something?"

"The proof of a person's honor is what they do when they think no one's looking.   As to letting you do it, my brand of religion believes in free will.   God gave you free will to choose.  Temptation is on all sides, and we all have to choose.  I can't compel you to be honorable.  You have to want to be faithful.  I did say quite a bit, but as you were convinced I was ignorant of your adultery, my comments and discussion went right over your head.  




Wife's Trip to New York



I asked you about Roy, linking up with you.  Remember that?  That he was fucking a former class mate here in town?  Then I had a conversation with you about both emotional and sexual adultery about a month ago.  Remember that?  Emotional adultery when you share really private stuff.   We agreed both the giving of confidences and of course fucking were reasonable grounds to end a marriage. 

I let you know your training class stunk to the heavens.  I praised the dumb thing to everybody we met, friends and family just to hear you describe it differently each time because you couldn't quite remember the earlier lies.  I figured you'd get nervous I might brag to your work mates.  If you thought about that at all, you probably figured I'd forget it before I ever met anyone from your work.  

I compiled a CD of cheating woman songs.  You heard them, one after the other as I drove you to New York, for Christ's sake.   I knowingly delivered you to your fate.  You would either spend the weekend with him or with me.  However you chose, it was going to be your future."

"I had no idea what you were doing.  If I had understood, I'd have chosen you!"

"And I would at least have tried to make the marriage work, even at that point, but like so many paths we take, we often don't see where it'll go until we reach the end of it.  

Didn't we have fun singing your dad's love song to you; "You Are My Sunshine"?  You were physically sick with anxiety.  You took my hand and told me you loved me as I sang please don't take my sunshine away.  Then at the cheating part you shut up.   You were terrified I would find out, but did you call it off?  No not you.  I guess you wanted him bad!  

It was clear at the hotel desk that the training was a sham.  No reservation for you, or anyone else you said was going.  No conference room reserved.  You even tried to use your personal credit card for the room.  I followed you to your room, emptied your suit case, put your best bras and thongs in the drawer, and hung the red teddy crosswise in the closet where it was the only thing you would see when you looked in.  I even left the closet door open so you couldn't miss it.  I told you I emptied your suit case.  You certainly knew what you packed, and you said nothing."

"Chris, I didn't realize.."  

"I asked you to have dinner with me.  'No' you said.'  

I asked to stay with you.  'No you said'.  

I asked you specifically say 'I want you to stay with me, or 'I want you to leave me." so there would be no doubt.  You told me to leave you, and I have...for good"

"It was all in a fog.  I don't know what I was thinking or.  I'm so sorry!  Is it too late?"

 "Right!   Too late.  It was Roy's cock you were thinking of!  I left my phone on that night, a last hope you might change your mind.   As you know, it didn't ring, you were onto a better thing, sucking off your new instructor.  It's nice to know that you're sorry, though. I'm sorry too.  Sorry that it ended in such a sordid way, but I figure it's better I know your character now than to waste more years with you.  So enjoy your freedom.  If he doesn't scratch your itch, some of the many others that will follow him will."

"Chris, please.  That wasn't me that weekend.  I'm not like that.  Give us another chance.  I am begging you to forgive me."

"Karen!  Of course I forgive you.   You are who you are!  Recall that Jesus forgave the Romans, but it didn't change the fact that they nailed to a god damn cross!"

"Chris, be reasonable.  It was a spur of the minute thing!  I had just met him."

"See, that's just what I mean about your character.  Just met him, my ass!  You dated Roy in high school.   You've been sucking and fucking him for months.  It wouldn't surprise me a bit if even now, you didn't dump him.   You would only put him on pause 'til the shit dies down.  Well, happy you, it's died down.  No longer moving.  I've had enough of you.  Go home and sign the damn papers or I'll see that your folks know what I know."

"No!  I won't give you up like that."

"It's not your choice.  Karen, you're history.  Keep hounding me, and In addition to your mom, I'll let Roy's wife in on the secret.  Look, this is a good time to split up.  You've got a fuck friend to help you through the divorce, I've got a project that will take months to complete and I'll be so tired a night I'll sleep like a log.  Now good night.  I've got my future to work on."  

And that future included having children of my own.	

Thankfully she gave up on me.  No more whining and begging.  She tried to gouge me in the divorce until I sent an e mail to her fuck e mail address. That broke her resistance and the divorce slid through.  I never saw Roy.  I thought about telling his wife, but why bother?  Just stirs up the past.  On the rare occasion that I see her in town, I just nod and keep going.  

Three years later, now I'm engaged to a good woman with a two year old boy, and she'd like two more.