Storiesonline.net ------- Revelations and Resolutions by Paul Phenomenon Copyright© 2002 by Paul Phenomenon ------- Description: New Year revelations require understanding and resolutions. Codes: MF cons non-con cheat wife group ------- ------- [This story was submitted in one piece by the author. It has been divided into multiple chapters to provide compatibility with wider range of browsers, so chapter limits have no meanings. Storiesonline] ------- Chapter 1 Scott looked around the room. The New Year's Eve party clamored raucously with laughter and conversation. So far, the party appeared successful. To stay off the dangerous streets on this night each year, the neighborhood held their own party, which rotated every year to a different home. This year, Scott and Claire Dillon hosted the event. He strolled into the kitchen to congratulate Claire. Her careful preparations and attention to detail had insured the success of the party. They had been married for seven years, seven wonderful years to Scott's mind, and with their cute, very loveable three-year-old daughter - staying with the grandparents, that night - they had created a loving family. Scott couldn't imagine being happier. Successful with his own business, Scott had started building custom homes while in college studying architecture. He entered the business first as a designer, and then as a superintendent, and during his fourth year in architecture, he designed and constructed a house on his own on speculation. It sold quickly, and he started another, then another, and soon his business eclipsed the time he needed to finish his education. A late-night discussion with Claire - they had been married a year at the time - provided the direction for the rest of his career. He quit school and never looked back. He was already doing what he loved and wanted to do, and his efforts provided all the income he and his family needed. He wasn't rich, but he made an above average living - well above average. Inside the kitchen, Claire stood looking perplexed and beautiful. Of course, she always looked beautiful. He had known from the first moment he saw her she was the woman for him. He met her while attending college after a stint in the military. She had finished college the year before and was teaching school. He had courted her because of her beauty but married her for her other qualities. She was a loving and giving woman, sexy and smart and full of joy. To Scott, she looked like a ravishing runway model, tall and slim with perky breasts and a small waist. Her hips were a touch wide for modeling, but great for bearing children, and he loved her firm derriere. She wore her dark hair long, and her green eyes never failed to dazzle him. "What's the problem?" he asked while giving her a hug. He loved touching her, and whenever he could he reached for her if only to brush his hand on hers - or his lips. He loved her deeply and felt only pity for some men he knew who sought out women other than their wives for pleasure. "We're running low on white wine," she said. "I'll pop down to the liquor store and buy some more." "Would you? If possible buy some already chilled. About four bottles should do it." He gave her a quick kiss. "No problem." When Scott returned, the driveway was blocked by another car. Groaning with irritation, he drove to the rear of his property so he wouldn't need to move his car until morning. He gathered the bags containing the wine he'd purchased and climbed from the car, pushing the door closed with his hip. It didn't close completely and barely made a sound. He set the bags down to open the gate, which swung wide silently. He had oiled the hinges the day before. Strolling through the gate, he elected to leave it open, too lazy to set the bags down again, but then he felt guilty. He returned and closed the gate. Manhandling the bags again, he moved across the lawn toward the side entrance of the house and suddenly noticed movement through the foliage, and then soft sounds - sounds of passion. He smiled. A couple of partygoers were making out in the gazebo, he assumed, and debated whether to continue around the foliage and interrupt them. He decided to peek around the bushes first. If they weren't too involved, he'd move by them without comment and pretend he had not seen them. The woman was sitting astraddle the man's lap. They presented a side view, but in the dark Scott couldn't see their faces. They appeared dressed, but he was still indecisive, so he stopped and continued to watch until he could determine whether to move forward or not. The woman threw her head back and groaned softly. She groans like Claire, Scott thought and smiled remembering how much he loved his wife's groans of pleasure. Peering through the leaves, he watched the woman rotate her hips. She's fucking him, he deduced. Studying the pair carefully, Scott noticed the man had his hands up under her skirt grasping her butt cheeks as he humped up at her. The tableau started to brighten as the moon crept out from behind a cloud. Claire! Scott's heart started to race. He abruptly felt completely empty as if all the blood had suddenly been drained from his body. His knees wobbled. Setting the bags to the grass before he dropped them, he tried to suck in oxygen silently as he peered through the foliage. Josh! His neighbor and friend, Josh Whitten, was fucking his wife! He felt numb. He tried to think but was so befuddled he could do nothing except gaze at his wife as she moved, pulling his friend's cock in and out of her cunt. He couldn't see where they joined. Claire's skirt covered them. She bent and mashed her mouth to her lover, and her hips sped up. Josh helped her using his large hands to lift and pull her down over him again. Claire groaned softly and threw her head back. Scott watched as she shuddered through an orgasm, emitting sharp but still quiet sounds of pleasure. Josh grunted and pulled her tightly to him and his body jerked as he ejaculated. Ejaculated inside my wife, Scott thought. He's coming inside her! Claire collapsed on Josh's chest, and they cuddled briefly. They didn't speak, or kiss, merely held each other. "I need to get back to the party, Josh," Claire said. "Scott should be back by now. I don't want him to come looking for me." She pushed herself up off his lap, and Josh's erection bobbed in the dark, the moonlight reflecting off the bulbous head, shiny with his juices and hers. Scott noted he was large, an inch or two longer than him, he guessed, but not as thick. Claire reached to the deck of the gazebo and picked up her panties. Josh watched as she pulled them up over her gorgeous legs and let her skirt settle back around her hips. "Meet me one day this week," Josh said. "No. I don't want an affair, Josh." She strolled away without looking back. Josh leaned his head back and sighed. With an evil smile, he pulled his pants up - they were down around his thighs - and fastened his belt. Scott's so-called friend lumbered to his feet and followed Claire inside, walking with a cocky spring to his steps. In a matter of a few minutes, Scott Dillon's happy life had crashed down around him. Confused, not only because his wife had fucked another man but also because he suddenly realized he was erect, as hard as he had ever been. He sank to the grass and leaned against a tree. If anyone had told him Claire had been unfaithful or even capable of being unfaithful, he would have called the person a liar. His mouth opened and he sucked in the cold night air. His hands trembled, and his erection pushed painfully at front of his pants. The moon moved behind another cloud, and the black night surrounded him like a fog. He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled from one corner and slid silently down his cheek. Was this the first time? Or had there been other times? Other men? Scott knew she had been a bit wild before he met her. She had admitted as much over the years, but he didn't consider her capable of the betrayal he had just witnessed. Why? Why had she betrayed him? Didn't he give her all the sex she needed? Did she need more than he offered? He couldn't remember refusing her, but then she rarely initiated their lovemaking. Perhaps she no longer loved him. She couldn't love him, not if she could fuck another man. Could she? What should he do? Should he confront her? If he confronted her, would she deny or admit her infidelity? And other infidelities? With the loss of his naiveté, he realized if she could sneak out to the gazebo for a quick fuck with Josh, a man she didn't want to have an affair with, that surely there had been other times, other men. And what did he want? Did he want a divorce? Did Claire? Too many questions, questions with no answers, especially with the state of his confused and stunned mind. He wiped the tear from his cheek. For the moment, he decided to ignore what he had seen. He needed answers to many questions before he could outline a course of action. His erection had wilted, so he pushed himself to his feet and picked up the bags of wine. As he walked through the side entrance to the house, Claire turned toward him, and her eyes widened. Was she wondering if he had seen her with Josh? Now would be the time to confront her, he knew, now when she wondered if he knew her secret, but he wasn't prepared for a confrontation - not yet. He wanted some answers first. "Someone blocked the driveway," Scott said calmly and placed the wine on the counter. "Two chilled and two warm, the best I could do." Looking relieved, she smiled. "Put the warm ones in the freezer for a while, and open the cold ones." She handed him a corkscrew. He watched her rinse wine glasses as he extracted the corks. Had she washed Josh's semen from her pussy, or was it running down her legs? He groaned inwardly and felt the beginnings of another erection. He wanted to test her, wanted to run his hand up under her skirt and cup her mound. Would it be wet? Or had she washed away the evidence and put on clean, dry panties? She was accustomed to his touches, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. "Happy New Year," he whispered and turned her to him and kissed her again. She melted against him during the embrace, but when he started to fondle her from the rear, she pushed him away. "Later, lover," she said lustfully and flashed a sultry smile. "Take the wine and fill the glasses for our guests drinking white wine." It was after 2:00 AM before all the guests departed, finally leaving them alone, and Claire busied herself dashing here and there picking up the clutter. Scott had watched her carefully since his return from the liquor store. She had not taken a trip to their bedroom, although she had visited the guest bath. If she had not cleaned herself and changed panties before his return, which was likely because of the timing, her pussy would be crusted with Josh's dried semen. When she bent to pick up some plates on the coffee table, he slid his hand up her leg and cupped her cunt. No panties! "Sexy," he said. "When did you take off your panties?" She straightened and blushed. "A while back. I waited too long... ah, damn, I'm embarrassed. I wet my panties just a little." He fondled her until she skipped away. "Later, help me pick up." When she walked into the kitchen, Scott moved to the guest bath. He found her panties under a towel in the linen closet. They smelled like sex. Like semen! He put them back where he had found them. An hour later, husband and wife lay side by side in their bed. "I think everyone had a good time," Claire said. "Some more than others," Scott added. Like Josh, for instance. Claire, too, to be fair. Claire chuckled. "True. Nancy drank more than she should. I watched her and Bill go into the guest bath together." She squirmed, signaling her pleasure as he caressed her smooth skin. "That's when I had my... ah, problem. They were in there for quite a while?" Nancy was Josh's wife. "Why didn't you use our bathroom?" "It was occupied, too." "Did Josh see them?" "No, I don't think so." "What about Bill's wife?" "Helen was busy with Pete." "A licentious bunch." He chuckled, a subterfuge. He wondered if he would ever be able to honestly laugh again. "What about you, Claire? Do you ever get the urge for another man?" Silence. Finally, she said, "Not really." Why did she hesitate? Had she considered a different answer? "What does 'not really' mean?" He reached and cupped her breast, tweaking her nipple. "Your answer was somewhere between yes and no. I suspect the honest answer would have been yes. Am I correct?" He leaned and ran his raspy tongue over the nipple, and then pinched it again. "Yes, sort of. I've fantasized. Haven't you? Fantasized about being with another woman, I mean?" An honest answer wouldn't get him the answers he wanted, so he lied. "Yes." "Anyone in particular?" she asked and then groaned with pleasure when his fingers cupped her mound and started to explore between her swollen pussy lips. "Not really," he said, giving her some of her own medicine. "I have fantasized about you with another man, though." Another lie. "You told me you were a bit wild before we married, and I wondered... ah, if only one sex partner for seven plus years had become commonplace for you, if you wanted some variety like you had before we married, wanted the excitement of someone new, someone who could surprise and excite you more than me." "Oh, honey, no. I love you - only you. Besides, you always excite me, like now, for example. I love the way you touch me, what you're doing to me right now." Three hours ago, he would have believed her. Now images flashed like a sideshow in his mind. Click! Claire's grimace when she climaxed around Josh's hard-on. Click! The bulbous head of Josh's long cock, bobbing and shining in the moonlight when she moved off him. Click! Semen encrusted panties hidden in the guest bath. Scenes of betrayal! The images and the feel of his wife's swollen, wet pussy lips had caused his cock to lengthen again. His balls ached, he realized. Unfulfilled arousal? He wondered yet again why he had become aroused when he watched Claire fucking his so-called friend. He had felt disgustingly betrayed. The scene had kicked all the air from his lungs, but still he had become excited. Why? He rolled to his side and lifted her left leg so he could enter her. The position allowed them to talk while they fucked, a position they had used often, especially if the hour was late because it also didn't require much exertion from either of them to achieve a climax. He slipped his erection inside her. It moved into her easily. Was some of Josh's come still there paving the way? Sloppy seconds, his mind screamed, and his cock throbbed. "Tell me about one of your fantasies," he said. "Put it in context of our party tonight." Did his request make her think of Josh? "Hmm. Let's see. You left to buy more wine. I was in the kitchen and Harrison came in. I had danced with him earlier, and as we danced, he became erect. I could feel his hard-on long and hard against me. He danced me into a corner, and while gazing into my eyes, lowered his hands and slid them up under my skirt. This was after I had removed my panties. His eyes widened when he discovered my bare butt, and the feel of my satiny skin inflamed him. He groaned and reached for my pussy from behind, sliding a large finger over my cunt lips, suddenly plunging his middle finger deeply inside me." He groaned. She giggled. She had been putting him on, he knew, and wondered if any of what she said had happened, but with Josh, not Harrison. Claire didn't like Harrison. She considered him conceited, much too full of himself. He decided to push her, to see if she would take 'Harrison' to the gazebo. "What happened in the kitchen?" "The kitchen?" "Yes, you started your 'fantasy' in the kitchen." "Oh, yes, I did, didn't I? Hmm, well right after you walked out the door, he walked right up to me and wrapped his arms around me." She moaned as her husband thrust into her and quickly flashed his fingers over her clitoris. "You're making me very hot, Scott." "Good. He took you into his arms, and - what?" "Kissed me, a passionate kiss that took my breath away." "And?" "I want you, he told me, with a husky voice filled with passion, and his hands moved back under my skirt." "What did you do?" "I rubbed my hand over his long cock on top of his pants. It was throbbing, and I realized I wanted him, too." Scott groaned and stopped moving inside her to control his orgasmic urge. "Don't stop. Keep talking." "You were gone to the liquor store. An opportunity existed. I took his hand and pulled him outside through the side door. We kissed again in the dark, and his hands became more aggressive." She groaned and pushed at his hand. "Stop touching me, Scott, or I'll come." An opportunity? Had she utilized this opportunity and many other opportunities to be unfaithful? He pulled his wet fingers off her cunt and wiped them on his thigh. They were sticky. Glancing at her, he noticed her eyes were closed. Was some of the stickiness on his fingers semen, Josh's semen? He quickly brought the hand to his nose. Yes! He could detect the sour odor of old semen. He gasped and sucked in air as her betrayal knocked the wind out of him yet again. Betrayal and arousal. A strange, unfathomable dichotomy. His arousal from the event still confused him. "Go on," he said. "He took control at that point and pulled me to the gazebo. He sat on a chair without arms and undid his pants, pushing them down on his thighs. His cock bounced in the moonlight, a long hard cock with a large, angry crown. I took it into my hands and stroked it. I wanted it inside me. It was so long, and I wanted it to plunge into me, to fill me." She gasped, from reliving the event or from Scott's fingers and cock at her cunt. Scott couldn't decide. "What happened then?" "I straddled him and wiped the swollen crown through my wet pussy. God, I was excited. My cunt was drooling by then, and I settled the head of his cock at the entrance to my vagina and slowly sank down around him, savoring the feel of a strange cock in my cunt." Scott couldn't stop his climax. He tried but he swelled up inside her and his come spurted, splashing at the back of her cunt, joining Josh's semen. He groaned and imagined his sperm swimming bravely, competing with Josh's, as they searched diligently for an ovum. His fingers had returned to her clitoris, and he aggressively rubbed the nubbin as he continued to jerk with orgasmic spasms. Claire cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" she panted as she ratcheted her hips, milking all the semen from his cock, milking his cock like she had milked Josh's a few hours before. When they recovered slightly, Scott said, "It's a good thing I didn't arrive back home ten minutes earlier, or I would have caught you?" Her body stiffened, and he realized she had connected his return to the time she had been back in the kitchen after fucking Josh. Of course, she couldn't be certain he knew, but it was possible, and he wanted the possibility to ferment in her mind. He wanted her confused and concerned - like him. "What do you mean?" she asked tremulously. "Your fantasy took place in the gazebo while I was at the liquor store. Remember, I had to park behind the house. If I had arrived before your fantasy finished, I would have seen you with Harrison in the gazebo as I walked to the side door." Silence. He had not let her off the hook and decided to set it. "My fantasy would have me arriving before you finished. I would have watched you fuck him, watched while peering through the foliage, not knowing at first it was you fucking another man until the moon moved from behind a cloud and brightened the scene." More silence. "The fantasy doesn't work for me, though," Scott added to soften the innuendo. "You don't even like Harrison. Now if your fantasy had been about... hmm, say Josh, or someone you admire, it would have been more believable. Regardless, I enjoyed the fantasy." The hook was set. Would she fight it, deny everything, or cave in and confess? "I noticed," she said dryly and turned on her side away from him. She'd do neither that night, he decided, so he cuddled against her spoon-fashioned and wrapped his arms around her. "You tell a hell of a story, Claire. I noticed the fantasy excited you, too. I thought I knew you, knew everything about you, but..." He hesitated. "But what?" "You've never admitted to such graphic fantasies before. Do you have them often?" "What about you? Do you think about me with other men often?" Just like her to answer a question with a question. "No, not often. You didn't answer my question? Have you fucked many men since we've been married? In your mind, I mean?" "A few. I have an active imagination, Scott. Do you think I'm wicked because I fantasize? I read somewhere that fantasizing is a good thing." "Where? In some woman's magazine?" "Probably. It's late, let's go to sleep." He kissed the nape of her neck. "Okay. I love you, Claire. The party was a roaring success, mostly due to your efforts." "Thank you. I love you, too." She yawned. "God, I'm tired." Scott closed his eyes and wondered if he could sleep. He felt her relax against him, and a short time later, her breathing deepened. Obviously, she had no trouble sleeping. She had fucked another man tonight, but she didn't appear to harbor much guilt over her betrayal. If this had been the first time she had been with another man, Scott believed she would have exhibited more guilt, would have had trouble falling asleep, especially with the innuendoes he had left hanging in the air, with the hook he had snagged in her jaw as if she were a swordfish taking his bait. A half-hour later, still wide-awake, he moved away from her and rolled his feet to the floor. He strode naked to the family room and poured a brandy, settling into his chair, a large, comfortable chair that Claire threatened to give to the Good Will once a year, at least. As he sipped and let the cognac warm him, he wondered how much of her fantasy was real, but with Josh, not Harrison. She had used her missing panties to heighten the fantasy, which wasn't real. Scott had watched her pull her panties on in the gazebo after she fucked Josh, so she'd been wearing them at that time. He suspected she removed them in the guest bathroom and washed herself shortly after his return, finally hiding the soiled lingerie in the towels. He did remember Claire dancing with Josh earlier, but he had not seen Josh push her into a dark corner and fondle her. Josh could have felt her up sometime during the evening before he left for the liquor store, though, and he suspected the scene in the kitchen had some validity. Certainly, her description of what happened in the gazebo rang true. He had personally witnessed part of her so-called fantasy. Then he remembered her comment about the opportunity his absence provided. He had given her innumerable opportunities over the years to be with other men, not purposefully, of course, because he never considered Claire capable of betraying him with such ease. And Josh's wife had gone into the guest bath with Bill, and Bill's wife had been busy with Pete. Had everyone but him messed around with someone else's spouse that night? Was that why Claire fucked Josh? Because everyone they knew fucked around? Everyone but him. He had admitted to fantasies about other women, but he had never wanted another woman, not even in his fantasy world, not from the day he met Claire. He loved her dearly, and they had promised to be faithful to each other in their wedding vows. He, for one, had taken his promises seriously. Obviously, Claire had not. Oh, he'd looked. Scott appreciated beautiful things - the sensuous shape of a woman's leg, the roundness of a well-formed behind. Cleavage, though in truth he preferred perky, well-proportioned breasts to the monsters raved about by many men, and most of all he appreciated the overall look of a woman, a studied, put-together look designed to attract male eyes without being sluttish - like Claire. Yes, he looked. Tears welled in his eyes again, and he felt so empty inside, so lost. What should he do? Soon, he would need to confront her and tell her he had seen her with Josh. But first he wanted to know if there had been others, other times, and other men. He needed to know the depth of her betrayal. Weary. He suddenly felt so weary he wondered if he could push himself up and go back to bed. He set the snifter of brandy on the coffee table and stood, feeling lightheaded. He made it back to the bed and fell asleep two minutes after his head hit the pillow. He had feared he would relive the scene he had witnessed over and over in his sleep, but thankfully he spent the night dreamless. ------- Claire roused, blinking and rubbing her eyes. They felt fuzzy, like her brain. She glanced toward Scott. He was still asleep with a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Cute drool, not disgusting. She wanted to reach and wipe the drop of moisture away, but he needed sleep and her touch might awaken him. Her heart went out to him, and her love for him washed over her like a soft spring rain. A lock of his thick, naturally curly hair had fallen over one eye, which prompted another urge to push it back from his face, but she quelled that urge, too. She remembered her first sight of Scott, standing tall and confident and very masculine as her date for that evening introduced her to him. She had been drawn to him immediately, and before the evening ended, she had become Scott's date, not quite sure how the switch had taken place, but immensely pleased nonetheless. She took him to her bed that very night and discovered he was the best lover she had ever had. Soon they were dating each other exclusively, a first for her, though she occasionally met a past lover without Scott's knowledge until he asked her to marry him. She smiled and rolled her feet to the floor. The shower helped clear the fuzziness as she let it massage her sleep-stiffened muscles and beat on her slightly aching head. God, what a night, especially after Scott and I went to bed, she thought as she dried her body with a towel. He had wanted her to tell him a fantasy, a fantasy involving the party, and she had told him one, changing the name of her adulterous co-conspirator to protect the not so innocent. And the telling of the fantasy combined with reliving her stolen, illicit moments with Josh had excited her all over again. Then Scott had made the remark that made her wonder if he had seen her with Josh. Ten minutes, he had said. If he had arrived ten minutes earlier he would have seen her, he mentioned off hand. She remembered her heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds. Had he seen her with Josh in the gazebo? Had he peered through the foliage, like he said, and watched her fuck his friend? She shivered with dread and hoped beyond hope he had not seen them. She loved her husband, loved the life the two of them had created together, and she adored their daughter. If her sluttish dalliance with Josh ruined her marriage... She berated herself, cursed herself for being such a damned fool. Why had she allowed things to go so far with Josh? She couldn't even blame what happened on booze. She had been the hostess and, accordingly, had been careful about her alcohol intake. She grimaced. Josh had not been as circumspect about the number of drinks he had tossed down, and with alcohol-dampened inhibitions, he had put on a full-court press, fondling her while she danced with him, pushing her into a dark corner and kissing her. His hands had been aggressive, too. With fewer drinks inside him, he would have backed off when she pushed his hands away the first time. She had always been able to handle him before, but he had persisted, pushing her panties to the side and sliding a finger into her cunt. The memory made her shiver with pleasure, and she felt an awakening twinge of arousal. God, he was nasty. He shoved his finger inside her as deep as it would go, and she let him thrust it into her a few times before she pushed him away. Then later, he had grabbed her in the kitchen... She shook away the memories as she reflected on Scott's question last night. He had asked if she sometimes wanted a different man for variety's sake? Or, merely for the excitement of a new experience? If she had been honest, she would have answered his question with a resounding yes. Claire didn't equate love and sex. She had always enjoyed sex, had enjoyed sex with a variety of men, but had only loved one man in her life - her husband. Still, when Josh had kissed her in the kitchen after Scott left for the store, she had grasped his hard-on and fondled its length over his trousers. It felt so long, longer than Scott's, and all at once she wanted to feel it inside her, feel it inside like she felt his finger jammed fully inside her cunt earlier. As she told Scott, she had the opportunity and she took it. Now she wished she'd been more prudent. In her passion-fogged mind, she saw no downside. Scott would be gone for a while, and no one had seen them in the kitchen, or for that matter, in the dark corner of the living room. But if by chance, someone had observed them, no one would spread the word. Claire had not been the only person to misbehave last night. She had no doubt Nancy had fucked Bill in the guest bath. And Bill's wife was in the master bedroom with Pete, the reason she couldn't use the master bath to clean Josh's semen from her pussy when she returned to the house. Pete's wife... she didn't know what Pete's wife was doing, or with whom, or where, but Claire knew she wasn't above fooling around. Last year, she had disappeared with... Claire couldn't remember, but she had disappeared with someone. The entire episode with Josh had been exciting - quick, unplanned, illicit, and nasty, which made it exciting. No harm, no foul, at least as long as Scott remained ignorant of the event. She knew she was making excuses, rationalizing what had happened, trying to make her adulterous, slutty behavior acceptable, at least to herself. She put on a robe and padded to the kitchen. "Coffee," she muttered. "I need coffee." While the coffee perked, she straightened the remains of the mess from the previous night. She liked a tidy kitchen and a clean house, and took pride in her homemaking abilities. Sometimes you are such a slut, she told herself with a sly smile as she wiped the table with a damp cloth. Last night had not been the first time she'd been unfaithful, and shaking her head, she realized it probably wouldn't be the last. And it wasn't because she didn't enjoy sex with Scott. In truth, he was the best lover she had ever been with, and she had been with a lot of men. She had told Scott she'd been a bit wild, but "a bit" stretched the truth a bit, she thought with a quiet chuckle. When she started fucking at the ripe age of fourteen, she found a pastime truly worthy of pursuit. She didn't know how many men she had been with before she met Scott. She wasn't the type to keep score, but in some circles she had been considered an easy lay. She chuckled. Why not? She had been easy. She liked to fuck. And Scott had been the best; she would not have married him otherwise. But Scott was such a straight arrow, naïve actually. She knew he equated sex and love and would consider her adulterous behavior last night a betrayal. But in her mind, she had not betrayed him. She had merely been true to her nature. She had felt Josh's long cock over his trousers and had wanted to feel it inside her, so she had dragged him outside to the gazebo and fucked him, and afterwards she had been as deeply in love with Scott as she had been before the adulterous event, more in love with him actually. Being with Josh made her appreciate Scott that much more. She poured fresh-brewed coffee into a cup, added cream and sugar, and let the aroma waft under her nose. She sipped and sighed. Turning to a sound, she watched Scott lumber into the kitchen. "Pour me a cup, too, please," he said. She loved his look. Tall and assured - four inches taller than her five nine. A thick hairless check with well-defined musculature, and dark, very intense liquid eyes she never tired of gazing into or feeling them inspect her, which they did frequently. This morning his dark, curly hair was wet, like hers, and plastered tightly to his head. He must have roused shortly after she showered. He looked... sad, sort of, definitely not happy. Usually he arrived in the kitchen each morning with a wide smile and a quick kiss for her, ready to attack the day. Not this morning. Yes, she thought yet again. He saw me with Josh last night. What should I do? Should I confess and ask for his forgiveness, promise to never stray again? She set a cup of coffee in front of him, black like he liked it, and sat across the table as they both sipped their morning coffee with their own thoughts. The silence stretched out for about a minute, and silence was so out of character for Scott. He couldn't stand silence. He had to fill the blank spaces. He glanced guiltily at her over the rim of his cup. Why? He didn't have anything to feel guilty about. Or did he? Damn him! He did have something to feel guilty about. He had seen her with Josh, and the sight had excited him. He had admitted to having fantasies about her with other men, and as she related the part fantasy, part true story last night, he had become excited all over again, like she had as she relived the illicit event. Yes, he had seen her with Josh. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "Do you love him?" "No, not at all. I'm in love with you, Scott." "Why then? Can you please explain how you could betray me like you did if you love me? I'm confused, Claire. I feel all empty inside, and so damned sad I could cry." Claire watched as tears welled in his eyes, which wrenched her heart. She had hurt him deeply, she could see, and didn't now how to take his pain away, pain she had caused. "I don't know if can explain, Scott. It just happened, like in the fantasy I told you about last night." "I heard you tell Josh you didn't want an affair. Was last night the first time?" She understood his question. She could no longer play to his naiveté. He had lost his innocence last night when he watched her fuck his friend. "With Josh, yes," she said. No more secrets. Secrets undermined and destroyed. She'd tell him everything. "Then there have been others?" "Yes." "How many?" "Not many. I've never had an affair, Scott." Scott might consider the "not many" a lie, but her comment about not having an affair was true. An affair would have been messy. Besides, she had not loved any of the men she had been with over the years since her wedding day. She had enjoyed the illicit sex, the quick, exciting unplanned liaisons. She had rutted like a bitch in heat, and then walked away, always returning to the man she loved, the man sitting across the table from her. He angrily brushed the heel of his hand across his eyes, wiping away his tears. "Define an affair," he demanded. "Being with a man a number of times over a period of time. An affair would have required some deep affection for the man on my part, at the very least, if not some love. I've only loved one man in my life, Scott. You. I could never have an affair with another man." "But you can fuck another man." "Yes." "You won't have an affair, but you'll take advantage of a quick, unplanned fuck, if an 'opportunity' arises?" His bitter words stung her, and she winced as if he had struck her. When she refused to answer his question, he shook his head with disgust. She could see he was not only confused and hurt but also now he felt angry and revolted. "I'm really sorry, Scott. What I did was wrong. It was wrong because I knew you would consider what I did as a betrayal of our love." His eyes widened. "And you don't?" he asked utterly amazed. "No. I don't equate love and sex like you. Last night, Josh excited me. He wanted me, and... Let me just say, I ended up wanting him, too. I didn't plan what happened. It was quick and nasty and exciting, and it was a one-time, never-to-be-repeated event. I didn't love you less afterwards. Like experiences in the past didn't change how I felt about you, either. In fact, some of them made me love you more. You are the best lover I've ever had, Scott, and whether you believe me or not, I love you as deeply as you love me, or rather the way you loved me before you saw me with Josh." He shook his head. "I don't understand." She remembered he felt guilty, too. It was time play to his guilt, a manipulative move, she knew, but she needed to turn the conversation away from her behavior. "Last night when I told you my fantasy, which you knew at the time was more a confession than a fantasy, you became excited. You relived the event like I did while I told you about it, didn't you?" He looked sheepish and nodded. "When you saw me with Josh in the gazebo, did you get a hard-on?" Another nod. "Which confused me," he added. "Why didn't you confront me immediately? You could have caught me with my panties down and off and in the act, so to speak." "I don't know. When the moon came out from behind a cloud and I recognized you, it was as if someone had kicked all the wind out of me. I was stunned. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to set the bags with the wine on the grass or I would have dropped them. I stood weak-kneed and wobbly and watched you fuck him and listened to your groans of pleasure, sounds I believed only I had heard for the last seven years. I watched as you experienced an orgasm, and watched as he climaxed inside you. I watched you move off him and put your panties back on. I heard him ask you to meet him this week and listened to you tell him you didn't want an affair, and then you left him. I watched him pull up his pants and follow you inside, and then I fell to the grass, and a cloud covered the moon again, and I wept in the pitch black of the night. That's when I noticed I had an erection, which confused me. I didn't confront you then or later, because I believed you no longer loved me. How could you love me and fuck another man so cavalierly, I asked myself. And because you had been so casual about fucking Josh, I believed you had been unfaithful before with other men. I had too many questions, and I wanted answers before I could confront you, before I could outline a course of action." "Have you outlined your course of action?" He shook his head. "I have some answers now, but I'm still befuddled. I love you. I watched you fuck another man, a so-called friend of mine, but I still love you. I don't think it's possible to turn love off in an instant, not honest love, but I don't like you this morning as much as I did yesterday morning, Claire." She felt tears smart her eyes. He was not only the love of her life, he was also her best friend, and now because of her sluttish behavior, he didn't like her anymore. She jumped up and rushed from the room. She didn't want him to see her cry. She feared he would not take her in his arms and comfort her as he had in the past, and she couldn't bear the thought of weeping in the same room with him without his arms around her. ------- Chapter 2 Claire's revelations stunned him. Scott sat and stared off into the distance, seeing nothing except prurient images of his loving wife fucking other men, faceless men right now, except for Josh. His mind roamed over the past. He tried to remember situations that would have given her an opportunity for a quick, nasty and exciting fuck, a one-time, never-to-be-repeated fuck, as she put it, but the past was rife with opportunities, too many for him to select any one circumstance with the slightest degree of accuracy. If his marriage continued, and at that point he seriously doubted he could keep it together, he knew she would have to tell him everything - in detail, at least with the detail she had expressed in her "fantasy" last night. He couldn't spend the rest of his life imagining her with other men engaged in quick, nasty fucks. Whether his imagination would exaggerate or fall short would not matter. Unless he knew everything, he wouldn't be able to keep their marriage together. He sipped his coffee and looked down. He had another erection. It poked up at the sweats he wore, and it throbbed. Why? How could he detest the thought of Claire with another man so vehemently but still be excited about the situation at the same time? He sighed with exasperation when he realized his libido continued to betray him as much as Claire's infidelities. He still felt weary, but he needed to do something, something to take his mind off the pornographic images that kept flashing into his thoughts. He jogged some mornings. Perhaps exercise would clear his mind. He hesitated. Claire had rushed away in tears. Should he go to her? No, at that moment he would only make her cry again. They needed to somehow control their emotions, both of them, and talk, tell each other about how they felt about everything. She had to listen to him, and he would listen to her, and maybe somehow they could fashion a solution to the problem together, create a course of action they could both live with. She still loved him, she professed, and curiously, he believed her. He knew he still loved her, would love her regardless of what course their marriage would take. He pushed himself to his feet and walked out the front door. He started slow, but the damned images continued, so he picked up the pace, forced his mind to hear only the sound of his shoes slapping the sidewalk, forced his mind to see the barren trees and clear blue sky, forced his mind to feel only the roaring in his ears and the cold, crisp air pumping in and out of his lungs. And finally the images went away. Claire didn't equate love and sex, she had told him - another revelation. He wasn't certain what that meant, but she believed she could be unfaithful and still love only him. They looked at the world around them differently. His world, he knew, was the more normal, standard view of things, but Scott was wise enough to realize other viewpoints had validity. The question in his mind was whether he could live with the knowledge of her infidelities, both from the past as well as those in the future, because he also realized she would probably avail herself of a future "opportunity". He returned a half-hour later and found her back in the kitchen nursing another cup of coffee. She had dressed and dried and brushed her hair and put on some makeup, and except for slightly swollen, red eyes, she looked so lovely his heart went out to her. She seemed happy to see him. Had his absence frightened her? Had she feared he had left her? No, she knew him better than that. She knew he would need to talk their problem through before deciding what they would do about everything. She smiled and jumped up as he plopped sweaty and out-of-breath on a stool by the kitchen counter. "I have fresh-squeezed orange juice," she said and without asking poured him a large glass from a pitcher. "Another cup of coffee?" "Yes. I took a run." He reached for a dishtowel lying on the counter and wiped his face. "I noticed." She handed him the juice and poured him another cup of coffee. She sat back at the kitchen table. "Scott, you said you didn't like me anymore but you still loved me..." "No, I said I didn't like you as much as I did. I still like you. You are still my best friend, Claire." Which was true - a best friend who had betrayed his trust. Her face softened and she looked relieved. She patted the table to her right. "Sit here next to me, Scott. We need to talk." "I'm sweaty. I should probably take another shower." She smiled. "I like you sweaty. I like the way you smell right now. It reminds me of your odors after we make love sometimes. Come here - next to me, please." He shrugged and moved the coffee and juice to the table. After he settled in the chair, she took his hand in hers. "I love you, Scott, more than you can imagine. I don't want our marriage to end. I love you and little Katy. The two of you are my life. I fucked up, I admit, big time. I let my nature rule my actions, and I'm very, very sorry. I hurt you badly, I know, and I hope someday you can forgive me. I promise I will never be with another man again. I sincerely and honestly promise I will never be unfaithful to you again." She had used similar words in their marriage vows, but... "I wish it were that simple, Claire. I truly do, but even if you keep your promise, other problems must be dealt with. You mentioned one of them - your nature. Sometime in the future another opportunity to be with another man will develop, an opportunity where I would never find out, even from a third party, that you had been unfaithful again. I've lost my naiveté, Claire, and my trust." "I know," she said and her enthusiastic expression turned lackadaisical. Her entreaty and promises had failed. "And I can't just forget about the past," Scott continued. "After you rushed away in tears, I sat here at this table, and images of you with other men - faceless men, except for Josh - flashed through my mind. I can't live without knowing everything, every detail, Claire. My imagination is as active as yours. I would spend the rest of my life creating lurid scenes of you with other men. I'd invent circumstances that never happened, and over time, the images would eat at my love for you and eventually destroy the strong, positive feelings I have for you." Her eyes widened. "Surely you don't want to hear every lurid detail of my past flings?" "Yes I do. I need to know everything, Claire, and you can't leave anything out, and you can't sugarcoat anything to try to minimize the impact. If you want our marriage to continue, I'll need to know everything. Once I know everything and can put my imagination to rest, I believe I can experience a catharsis and fold you back into my arms again. Without such a catharsis, we're finished." Fear struck her eyes. "Can you handle the details, Scott?" she asked anxiously. "I don't know. If I can't our marriage will end. This is the only chance we have, Claire. I'm sorry. I wish it were otherwise." She sat considering his request. She shook her head and started to speak, but then clamped her mouth shut. Finally, she said, "Okay. I'll tell you everything, every detail, but I have a few conditions, too." "Such as?" "You must promise not to leave me until I've told you everything." "Granted." "And I want some time to tell all - say a month, maybe two." "All right." "And I want you inside me when I tell you about each event." "I understood the first two conditions, but not this one." "You mentioned my nature, Scott. You, too, have a peculiarly instinct. You become excited when you think of me or see me with another man. I don't understand this part of you any more than you understand my need for a different man from time to time." She smiled. "Besides, telling all will be painful for me, and I'd rather have you excited and inside me than sitting across a table from me gazing at me with a shocked, accusing expression." He considered her comments. She was correct. Like her, he didn't understand why he became aroused when he thought of her with someone else, but he did. He couldn't deny his nature any more than Claire could deny hers. He nodded. "Okay, I accept your conditions. About this time frame of yours, do I have the right to request a session?" "Yes, but I also reserve the right to deny the request. There will be times, Scott, when I just won't be in the mood to tell all." "I understand because there will be times I just won't want to listen. Katy will be with your parents until this evening. May we get started this morning?" "Of course." "And I have another request. Will you please tell me the events in chronological order?" She scrunched up her face. "I'll try, but won't promise." "Fair enough, but this morning I want to know about the first time." She nodded and pushed herself to her feet. Holding out her hand for his, she said, "Let's get started." ------- He had insisted on a shower before they began. She reclined on the bed naked, waiting for him and feeling anxious, but curiously aroused, too. This might work, she thought. If she told him everything... But could she tell him everything? A couple of times, even she had wished she had denied her nature and had detested her sluttish behavior afterwards. That's why she had refused his request to tell everything in chronological order. She could tell him about the first time. It had been fun and nasty and exciting, but the second time... She'd skip the second time for a while. She heard the shower suddenly go silent. He would join her soon, would slide his wonderful cock inside her and listen to her first bona-fide confession. She touched herself, spread the lips of her pussy and lightly brushed her fingers over her labia. She masturbated frequently and wondered if Scott still masturbated. With the current open sexual climate between them, she could ask him, she knew. Perhaps they could masturbate together. She had played with herself for other men in her past, and watching a man stroke his own cock until he spurted his juices into the air excited her. Her pussy was damp, but not wet, but her clitoris had peeked out slightly from behind its hood. With a wet finger, she rubbed it tenderly, and her eyes rolled back in her head. "That's sexy," Scott said. Her eyes snapped open, and she guiltily jerked her fingers away from her cunt, like a child caught in some wrongdoing. Then the humor of situation struck her, and she laughed. She had no reason to feel guilty about touching herself while she waited for her husband to join her in bed. Christ, in a few minutes she would inform him about the first time she had fucked another man after they had married. Besides, he had just informed her he considered her fingers busy on her cunt sexy. Reaching again, she spread the lips of her cunt and watched him as he gazed at it, watched as his lovely cock lengthened to half-hard when she shoved a finger inside as far as it would go. "Do you still masturbate, Scott?" "Yes, once in a while." He chuckled self-consciously. "Old habits die hard." Her smile widened. "Tell me about it! My old habits have caused the mess we're in. Come here," she patted the bed next to her. "I want to watch you play with yourself. I'll start my first confession, and we'll masturbate together until you get the urge and put your cock inside me. Okay?" He rolled onto the bed, but instead of facing her head to head, he lay on his side with his head toward the foot of the bed. "I can watch you finger fuck yourself better this way. Do you mind?" he asked as his hand wrapped his now hard cock. "Not at all." Her fingers dipped inside her pussy and extracted some of her natural lubricant. She spread the moisture over her pussy lips and clitoris. "I remained faithful for about a year, Scott. I tried, I really tried to be faithful, and I passed up a number of opportunities until... damn, this is more difficult than I thought it would be." When his eyes moved away from her cunt to her face, she said, "Come up here and put your cock in me. I need the connection to continue." He slipped into their talk-and-fuck position, and with some short, stabbing thrusts was finally fully inside her. His fingers replace hers at her clitoris. "Until?" he inquired. "Until the washing machine went caput. You told me to call a repairman, which I did, and when I opened the door to him, I couldn't believe the male specimen standing before me. He was about six four or five with wide shoulders and a deep chest - and young, in his late teens, I guessed, certainly not more than twenty. Blond hair and deep blue eyes. Handsome, but not too pretty - very masculine. Later that morning I deduced he was dumber than a post, but his mind didn't attract me, only his body. Knowing myself like I did, I took him to the washing machine in the utility room and left him to his task, purposefully putting some distance between us. It didn't take him long to discover the problem, and he stepped into the kitchen where I was seated with a cup of coffee. He informed me it would be cheaper to buy a new washing machine than repair the one we had. I asked if his company sold washing machines, and he told me they did and hurried outside to his truck for some brochures. Sitting next to each other at the table, we discussed the pros and cons of various machines, and our hands accidentally touched - knees, too. I knew by the way he looked at me he wanted me. And God help me, I wanted him. It had been a year, no longer, a year and a half, at least, since my last quick, nasty fuck. The air was thick in the kitchen, thick with lust. It emanated from both of us. He was talking about some damned washing machine when he locked his eyes on mine and suddenly went silent. He reached and caressed my cheek with his huge hand, and I melted. I caved in, Scott. All my promises to you and myself fled as if they'd never been uttered. Without knowing how it came to be, I found myself straddling his lap with his hands boldly roaming over my body while I plunged my tongue into his mouth and ran my fingers through his thick hair. And he was hard, God, he was hard. I felt his cock poking at me, and I grasped it in my hand over his trousers while moaning into his mouth." "Jesus," Scott muttered. "My imagination would have never invented such a scene." "Does it make you hot?" "God, yes." "Me, too." "Go on." "Are you sure? It gets pretty lurid, Scott." Not for the fist time, she wondered if his demand for details had not arisen out of a need for catharsis, but rather a prurient need on his part to relive each event. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her, and his fingers had pushed the hood completely up off her clitoris. She was soaking wet and very excited. Could she finish the confession before one of them climaxed? "Continue," he growled. "I was wearing a t-shirt, no bra, and he pushed it up and off and fastened his mouth on my tits. He had a large mouth. God, everything about him was large, including his hard cock. I had to see it, had to feel in my hands, inside me, maybe even in my mouth." Scott groaned and stopped moving inside her. "I jumped up off him and quickly unfastened his jeans. His cock was long and thick, as long as Josh's and as thick as yours. I stripped and straddled him again. He mauled my tits with his hands and mouth as I stroked his cock, and then I raised my hips and rolled the crown of his cock through my wet cunt. I was so hot by then, Scott. I could think of nothing but feeling that cock inside me. I didn't consider how you would feel or what my sluttish behavior would do to our marriage. At that moment, I considered nothing but my need for a quick, nasty fuck with this relative stranger. I settled down around his cock and whimpered as he rotated his hips up at me and sank the monster about halfway inside me. His youth and inexperience betrayed him then when he suddenly climaxed. He groaned mightily and grabbed my hips, jamming my cunt forcefully down over his ejaculating cock until I took him fully inside me. Surprisingly, I climaxed, too. As his semen spurted inside me, my cunt started to quiver, and then went into a full flutter when deeply inside me the wondrous sensations of an orgasm built and spread until it blossomed. No the orgasm didn't blossom, it literally exploded, and then washed over me finally relieving all the sexual tension that had been building since the repairman had arrived at our door." Scott grunted, and Claire felt his cock expand inside her, felt his semen rush through the large vein at the base of his cock and explode inside her like the repairman's semen six years before, and like then, her orgasm overwhelmed her, exploded around her and spread to every part of her body, consuming her, taking away her other senses until she could only feel the sweet blissful sensations produced by an orgasm. When her body lost it's rigidity and she collapsed, weak and limp, back to the bed, she expected to feel relief. Instead she felt tears sting her eyes. Would Scott still love her? Or would he condemn her as a slut? Oh, the confession excited him. Of that, she had no doubts, but she also knew he maintained his feelings of arousal and betrayal separate and apart. "Did you fuck him again?" "That day, yes. I never saw him or spoke to him again after he left our house, though." "How many times did you fuck him?" "I honestly don't remember, Scott. He was young and his recovery time was astonishing." "Did you suck him off?" "Yes." "Did he eat you?" "Yes, though he wasn't very adept. I think I was the first woman he ever went down on. His youth and inexperience was part of the fun, Scott. He didn't try to play a part, play like he was a super stud. He was inexperienced and knew it and was grateful and attentive whenever I suggested anything. As impromptu fucks go, he was one of the best." "Did you take him to our bed?" "No, we stayed in the kitchen. One of the things I like about a quick, unplanned fuck is the spontaneity of it. Somehow a bed doesn't smack of spontaneity." Scott chuckled sardonically. "I see what you mean." She felt his cock soften and slip out of her cunt, felt his semen combined with her juices run out or her and down over the cheeks of her ass onto the bed. "Do you still love me?" she asked timidly, almost afraid to hear his answer. "Yes." Relief washed over her. One down. How many to go? She honestly couldn't remember. She knew she still planned to skip the second time she had been unfaithful. ------- Scott and Claire had dressed and were eating lunch when Scott asked, "Did you have a similar experience with any other repairman?" She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. "Yes, one other, a handyman I hired to take care of a long list of honey-do's you had ignored for quite a while." "Think carefully. Your answer is important. Are you sure you've only been with two workmen entering our home?" She considered his question for a few seconds. "Yes. Only Mr. Washing Machine and Mr. Handyman. That's all." "Were there any unusual differences between the handyman and the first one?" "A few. He was older, in his late-thirties, I'd guess, so his recovery time didn't allow a repeat performance the same day like with the washing-machine repairman. From beginning to end the event didn't take more than a half hour. It was quick and nasty and hot, but not as satisfying as the episode with Mr. Washing Machine. I paid Mr. Handyman an honest wage for the repairs he made - excluding the time we spent together - pushed him out the door and never saw him again. He called once, but I gave him the cold shoulder and never spoke with him again. Like with Mr. Washing Machine, I don't remember his name. That's why I refer to them as I do." "When did this happen?" She considered his question. "I'm not sure, but I'd guess it was about five years ago." He sighed, struggled with his decision, and finally stated, "You won't need to relate the details about you and the handyman beyond what you just told me." Claire chuckled. "Getting bored already?" "The entertainment factor of your revelations isn't the reason I need to hear them, Claire. I need to know everything for two reasons. One, to control my vivid imagination, and two, to bring about a catharsis so we can get on with the rest of our lives, whatever form that will take. I know you've only been with two repairmen and essentially know the details of the events. Now I won't need to imagine you with every workingman who came into our house over the years." "Oh, I see." She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. "Maybe we can take a similar approach with some of the others. I'd like to get this over with as quickly as you, maybe more so." Not for the first time, Scott wondered how many men his wife had been with. While Claire had prepared lunch, he had gone to his home office and started a journal of her affairs, listing the man's name, the approximate time of the event, and the details Claire had exposed. It was his intent to show the list to Claire from time to time, if only to jog her memory, and would require that she verbally sign off on the list when it was complete. He knew he could not turn off his imagination and the vivid images that kept intruding in his mind until the list was complete. The document currently listed two men: Josh and Mr. Washing Machine. Now he could add Mr. Handyman. "I'll agree to any shortened versions that make sense like this one," Scott said. "I have some questions about Mr. Washing Machine, as you call him. Do you mind answering them now?" "Fire away." "With Josh, you referred to his long cock. With Mr. Washing Machine, you described his cock as long as Josh's and as thick as mine. Does size make a difference to you?" She chuckled. "Ah, I wondered when that question would come up. Men seemed to have a fixation about the size of their cocks, with most believing they're too small. But that wasn't your question. You asked if I had a preference. I like large cocks, fat cocks, skinny cocks and small cocks, unless they're too small, say less than five inches. Your cock fits me perfectly, Scott, especially with the sharp upward bend in it when you get erect. It rubs my G-spot when you thrust into me from the top or from behind, and it spreads the interior walls of my vagina more than a thicker cock because of it's shape. Do I have a preference beyond yours? Yes. I prefer a cock between seven and nine inches. Frankly, anything longer is a little painful, and I was with one man before I met you who was so large, I refused to let him near me again. And given a choice between a long cock and a thick one, I'll take the thick one every time, and I'm not just saying that because Josh was longer than you and you are thicker. Does that answer your question?" "Uh-huh. How large was it, the one you wouldn't let near you again, I mean?" She laughed heartily. "See what I mean?" He blushed. "He said it was a foot long, and I believed him. I can only take about nine inches comfortably, but when he became excited, he shoved the damn thing completely inside me. I screamed bloody murder it hurt me so much, and it deflated like a blowout on a tire." She laughed. "I scared him so badly he probably couldn't get it up again for a year, maybe longer." What happened to my sweet, demure wife, Scott wondered. The person sitting next to him looked the same, but she wasn't the same person he had held - invented? - in his mind for so long. He didn't know which he preferred: the woman he assumed he knew, or the new one, the real one, though he believed he preferred the real one, the open, happy person without subterfuge. The delightfully bawdy comments she had just expressed would have never escaped her mouth yesterday, but today she was open, being herself, letting the real Claire hang out for him to see and come to know. The phone rang, and Claire jumped up to answer it. "Hello... Josh, hold a minute." She put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and glanced inquiringly at her husband. "Do you want me to talk to him, or would you prefer to tell him to leave me alone?" She grinned. "I'm very adept at next-day brush offs. Care to listen?" Scott smiled. "Go ahead." "Sorry, Josh. Did you call for a reason?... Really? Why should I even consider such a proposal? I told you last night I didn't want to have an affair with you. Besides, Scott is twice the lover you are... Let's just say we made a mistake and leave it at that... Just a minute." She turned to Scott, again covering the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we'd be interested in a wife-swapping party? I wouldn't be surprised if Nancy were listening on another extension. She's..." "Tell him you'll call him back. We need to talk." She hung up without saying goodbye and sat next to him. She wore a worried look on her face. "Do you want Nancy?" she asked. "Good God, no!" The telephone rang. "Let the answering machine take the call," she said and took his hand in hers. "If you want... God, this is difficult. If you want another woman, I'd try to understand. I wouldn't like it, but..." "Claire, I don't want another woman. I haven't wanted another woman from the day I met you, and I'm certainly not interested in joining some sleazy wife-swapping group. Let me clarify a few things. I've lied to you." He hesitated, and when her worried look turned to one of sadness, he hurried on. "You asked me if I had ever fantasized about being with another woman. I told you yes - a lie. I told you I had fantasized about you with another man - another lie. I lied to you because I wanted some answers at the time, and if I had told you the truth, you would have clammed up." Her sad look brightened. "That's it? Those were your lies?" He nodded. She grimaced. "I'm happy the lies weren't more serious, but I don't understand. You become excited when you think about me with another man, yet you say you've never fantasized about me with a another man." "I know it's confusing. I don't understand why seeing or thinking about you with another man arouses me, but it does. I can assure you the arousal happens without volition, so don't make too much of it. Until I realized you had been with other men, probably quite a few, an image of you with another man never entered my mind. Now, I can't turn them off. That's why I need to know the details, the circumstances of each of your infidelities, so I can put my imagination to rest. Do I want you to have more flings, as you called them? No, but I can see why you might think I would because your flings arouse me. How we ultimately handle your nature and mine is yet to be determined. Don't assume anything, not yet. Okay?" She nodded. "So you know, I agree with you. The last thing I would do is join a wife-swapping group. Your word was perfect. They're definitely sleazy." "Call Josh back and tell him where to get off. I'd call him, but I don't want him to know I know about the two of you." She smiled and made the call. "Josh, it's Claire... No, I did not discuss your proposal with Scott. Scott doesn't know about last night, and because what happened will never be repeated, hopefully he never will. I love my husband..." She placed her hand over the mouthpiece and told Scott, "Nancy is getting on the phone." Returning to the phone, Claire said, "Hello, Nancy... I see. Let me ask you, has Scott ever indicated he had a sexual interest in you?... Then what makes you think he might?... Sounds to me you're involved with wishful thinking. Listen carefully, I'll tell you this once, and once only. I'm sorry I allowed things to get out of hand with Josh last night. I can guarantee it will never happen again, and Scott and I will never join you or anyone else in a wife-swapping party... You've got to be kidding." Again her hand covered the mouthpiece. "She's threatening to tell you about last night, Scott, unless I push you to join them. What a bitch!" She went back to the phone. "Do want you have to do, Nancy, but if you or your husband say a word about last night not only to Scott but also anyone else, I'll expose your sleazy wife-swapping group to one and all. Do Josh's business partners know how filthy he is? What about your mother? Does she know how squalid you are? And, I'm certain your children don't realize how depraved their parents are. Pursue this course of action, and I guarantee they'll find out. Don't ever call me again, Nancy, and the same goes for your slimy husband. The two of you deserve each other!" She slammed the phone down and cursed. Scott applauded. "Well done!" She slumped and sucked in air. Her angry expression softened and slowly evolved into a worried look. "Do you think I'm sleazy, Scott?" Good question, Scott thought. He could see his hesitation disturbed her, but he didn't have a definitive answer, so he told her his thoughts. "So it's possible you think I'm sleazy," she said when he finished. "Not really. For some reason the word, sleazy, doesn't fit." "How about slut?" He laughed. "Closer. Let's avoid labels, if possible. Do you see me as a cuckold?" Her eyes widened. "Good Lord, no. I see what you mean. No labels." She rose and started to clear the table, so Scott went to his office and added the handyman to the list. Just as he was saving the file, Claire strolled in. "What are you doing?" she asked. He told her, and a tear ran down her cheek as he finished. She squared her shoulders. "The word slut fits me, Scott. I'm a slut. I've always been a slut. I like to fuck. From my first clumsy fuck in the back seat of a car, I knew I'd become a slut, and I did. I'm sorry. If you end up wanting a divorce, I'll understand." He held his arms out for her, which caused her silent tears to turn into a heartfelt sob as she rushed to him, settling on his lap. He held her while her slim body shuddered with each sob until she calmed. "Hush," he said. "Remember, no labels." He brushed her hair from her face and then brushed her lips with his. He could taste the salty flavor of her tears on her lips. "Would you prefer I delete the document?" he asked. She shook her head. "No. You were right. I might need such a list to jog my memory. That's why I suddenly felt so sad and realized I was in fact a slut." "No labels, Claire. We agreed." She moved to her feet. "Excuse me for a minute. I need to wash my face." She turned and left the room, returning a few minutes later. She asked if she could use his computer, and sat in front of the keyboard. "Scott, I've been dreading telling you about the second time I was unfaithful, and I need to take back one of my conditions. I don't want you inside me when I tell you about the second time. In fact, I don't want to tell you about it at all, but I know you need to know. May I write about it, put it on the list and let you read it?" "Yes." "Thank you. Leave me, please. I won't be able to do this with you in the room. When I've finished, I'll call you back. Okay?" He nodded. "There's a football game on TV I wanted to watch." An hour later, Scott sat in front of his computer. Claire had left the file open. ------- Chapter 3 Name: Jason Tillman Approximate Date Of The Event: November, Six Years Ago, approximately two months after Mr. Washing Machine Details: I met Tillman in an elevator. When I entered the elevator, he was the only occupant. He looked like he was in his early fifties, very distinguished in his dark, three-piece suit, like a lawyer or a business mogul. I smiled at him when I entered, and he returned my smile. The elevator cab lurched down and suddenly stopped as all the lights went out. I found out later there was a power outage in the area. I was frightened at first, but the man calmed me with assurances that someone would soon come to our rescue. He introduced himself. I told him my name, and we chatted in the dark. That's when I felt his hand on my butt. I pushed it away and told him I was happily married. He laughed. I remember it sounded evil to me. I should have listened to my intuition. "You don't remember me, do you?" he said. I told him no. "You went out with my son years ago. I remember you. I watched him fuck you in our living room." That's when his last name clicked. I had dated a boy named Barry Tillman when I was sixteen or seventeen. It was very dark in the elevator. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, but I could feel Tillman's hot breath at my neck, and suddenly his hands grasped both of my breasts. He pulled me back against him, and I could feel his erection at the small of my back. I'm ashamed to say, the situation excited me. I didn't stop him, and he became bolder, reaching under my skirt and roughly rubbing my pussy over my pantyhose and panties. He kissed my neck as he continued to fondle me, and then said, "It will be a while. We might as well amuse ourselves until we're rescued." By now, he had pushed his hand under my hose and down in my panties. His fingers found my already wet cunt and he jabbed a finger inside me. I wasn't that wet yet, so it hurt. I winced, and he seemed to become gentler. His other hand left my breast, and I felt him move it up under my skirt, and he pulled off my hose and panties. I cooperated. By now, I wanted to "amuse" myself, too. I was hot, Scott. The situation fit my preferred scenario of a quick, nasty, never-to-be-repeated fuck perfectly. But he rushed me. I quickly determined he cared little about me, and he bent me over and shoved his cock into me from the rear, making no attempt to ease it gently inside me. He hurt me, Scott. "Easy," I told him, but he ignored me, actually laughed that evil laugh again, and I started to wonder if I had allowed something to begin I'd feel sorry for later. Little did I know. Instead of becoming wetter, I started to dry up. I no longer wanted Tillman and tried to get away from him, but he grabbed my hair with his fist and twisted. "You're not going anywhere, bitch. Fuck me back! Move your ass, you slut!" he growled. I was frightened by then, very frightened. I even feared for my life. I reasoned he would come soon, and it would be over and done. Hah! He came as I predicted, but he didn't stop. He pulled my hair and forced me to my knees facing him. "Clean my cock with your mouth, cunt," he shouted forcefully. When I didn't perform on his command, he jerked my face toward him. His half-hard, slimy cock slid along my cheek. "Clean it, bitch," he yelled again, and his hand twisted in my hair. I cried out in pain, and he grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. My neck was bruised for a week. I became frightened for my life, Scott, so I cleaned his filthy cock with my mouth, reasoning the sooner I finished the sooner the nightmare would end, but with my mouth around him, he started to get hard again. His hips began jerking, thrusting in and out of my mouth. He had a large cock and I couldn't take it all, but he didn't care. I gagged, and he laughed. "Swallow it, slut," he ordered and jammed his cock into my mouth to the hilt. God, that hurt. I had difficulty swallowing for a week. He kept fucking my mouth, and suddenly his cock swelled up a little and he spurted his come into my mouth. I didn't have a chance to swallow, and it started to run out my nose. I gagged and tried to pull away. I couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. He jerked my hair and pulled me tightly to him. That's when I bit him. I didn't care if he killed me anymore. The son-of-a-bitch had hurt me and humiliated me, and he was smothering me, so I bit down on his filthy cock as hard as I could. He screamed and slapped me, sending me flying across the elevator floor. I curled up in the corner and wept while he cursed me. "You cunt! You made me bleed!" "Good," I said between sobs. "I hope the slimy fucker falls off!" That's when he kicked me. I found out later he cracked two of my ribs. Gratefully the pain from the kick was too much for my body to take, and I passed out. When I came to, the lights in the elevator had come back on, and I could hear sounds through the door. Tillman stood across the elevator from me looking like he could kill. "Cunt!" "Fuck you," I said. Brilliant, huh? I put my underwear in my purse just as the elevator doors opened. I rushed away, happy to get away from the violent man with my life, swearing I'd never let another man do what Tillman did to me. You noticed the black eye Tillman gave me when hit me but accepted my lame excuse for its cause, and I was able to hide my broken ribs from you by faking flu symptoms and hiding out in bed for a week. The episode shamed me, Scott, and I know what you're going to say. You'll ask me how I could consider another quick, nasty, impromptu fuck with another man ever again. Well, I didn't, not for a year, and I'll tell you about that time while we are in bed tonight with you inside me. Please forgive me. I love you with all my heart. ------- Scott looked down through tear-ladened eyes. He was not erect, thank God. He was angry, though. He wanted to find Tillman and beat him within an inch of his life. He raped her! He violated her, beat her and raped her, and she believes she was at fault. He walked from the office and found Claire curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. He sat and took her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Claire. And I don't forgive you because there is nothing to forgive." ------- I love him so much, Claire thought as she watched her husband read a goodnight story to their daughter. He was such a good father, and she couldn't imagine finding a better husband. She hoped beyond hope they could fashion a solution to their problem and keep their marriage together. He'd been furious about Jason Tillman after he had read the account of what the man did to her, so angry she feared he might do something foolish, so she had made him promise to back off and leave it alone. Once he'd calmed down, he asked if there were further incidents similar to Tillman's. "One," she had said, "although not nearly as bad. Tillman was the worst." "Write it down," Scott said. "I don't want to listen to you tell it to me while I'm inside you. I'd be like the guy with the foot-long cock. I'd go soft like a blowout and wouldn't be able to get it up for a year." She laughed, and hurried to his office. When she finished, he read the file. This time, she had stayed in the room with him. He turned to her and said, "I can't for the life of me understand why some men get off inflicting pain. I guess some women enjoy it, or it wouldn't be so prevalent. I'm glad you're not one of them. Come here." He had held his arms out to her, and she had happily moved into them. As Claire listened to the story Scott was reading to Katy, she knew he was about finished. She had read the same story to her daughter at least a dozen times - it was one of Katy's favorites - so she moved down the hall toward the master bedroom. It was time to tell her husband about the third time, and curiously she looked forward to relating the events to him. To her mind, it was her hottest quick, nasty fuck, and she believed the details would turn Scott on big time. Ten minutes later when he entered the bedroom, Claire was lying on the bed masturbating. Thinking about number three excited her, and she couldn't resist touching herself. "Sexy," Scott said. "I love the new you." "Good, because it's the real me." He removed his shirt. "I'll brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I'll be with you in a minute." "Hurry," she said. As she waited, she began to have doubts. The incident turned her on, but perhaps Scott would consider it a bit bizarre. He reentered the bedroom naked and half-hard and cuddled up next to her. Taking her into his arms, he kissed her passionately. "Claire I think you're looking forward to telling me about number three, or am I wrong?" "You're not wrong. It was my favorite. If ever there was a time I might have considered repeating one of my flings, this would be the one, but I didn't. To be honest, it happened out of town, or I might have arranged a repeat. It was quick and nasty and hot and fun, Scott. Are you hard?" "Yes." "Slide into me. I want to get started." "Damn, you are excited! You're really wet." She giggled. "I know. Ah! You feel so nice inside me. Be careful with my clit, though. I don't want to come until I finish telling you the details. Okay?" "You've got it, baby. Go ahead." "Well, as you know, I'd sworn off my impromptu flings after Tillman. He scared me, Scott. I was tempted a couple of times, but I didn't feel certain the man in question wouldn't be like Tillman, so I backed away every time. Number three happened a year and a month after Tillman. I was still teaching then, and a group of teachers planned a trip during the Christmas break to Phoenix, Arizona to get out of the cold country for a few days. Husbands and wives were invited. We signed up for it. Remember?" "Yes, but I had to beg off because of business pressures. I encouraged you to go without me. It was only for an extra-long weekend if I remember correctly. You flew out of here on Thursday morning to return late Monday night. As it turned out, I was able to get away on Saturday and caught a flight that put me in Phoenix in time for us to join the group for dinner, go out on the town that night and spend the next day lazing about in the sun, trying desperately to acquire bragging rights for a tan. I remember Sunday night in particular. You turned me everywhere but loose, and I loved it. I take it the event in question happened before my arrival late Saturday afternoon." She chuckled. "Lucky guess. Yes it took place on Saturday. Do you remember the life guard at the pool?" "Yes! He was particularly attentive to you, flirted a little, in fact. Is he the one?" "Sort of." "Sort of? What does sort of mean?" "All in good time, Scott. Patience. Anyway, I got a jump on you acquiring a tan. Remember?" "Yes, I commented how sexy your tan lines were Saturday night when we dressed for dinner. You made me so excited we nearly didn't join the group." "Yeah, I remember. Let me back up a day. Friday morning I found a bikini in the gift shop. I know you remember the bikini." "Yeah." "Careful with my clit, Scott. Damn, I'm hot. Friday afternoon I went down by the pool to lie out in the sun in my new bikini. For some reason, I was the only one at the pool at the time. It was warm, but not hot, and the pool shimmered. God, it was nice to relax. If you had been with me, it would have been perfect. After about an hour, I slipped into the pool to cool off, and when I pulled myself out, Dale was standing waiting for me with a towel." "Is Dale the lifeguard?" "Yes. Let me tell this my way, Scott. Dale handed me the towel and our eyes met. Instant lust. God, he was a hunk. About eighteen years old, maybe a little older, and ripped. A real hard-body, as they call them in sunny California. He stood and talked to me as I dried myself off, and if male eyes ever undressed me, his did. And I had an affect on him. His tight trunks became a little tighter. I stretched out on the lounge and asked him to put sunscreen on me. I loved his hands on me, and I was getting wet. I've had a professional massage before, and he was their equal, so I commented on his talented hands. He told me he was a certified massage therapist, and I asked him what he charged. He told me, and I asked where I would need to go for his services. He informed me that he had the next day off at the pool and could come to my room. I hesitated, and he seemed to sense I was nervous about him coming to my room. "'Claire', he said, 'I'm a professional. Nothing will happen in your room except a massage unless you want something to happen.' I believed him, Scott. He was so unlike Tillman. He reminded me a little of Mr. Washing Machine, except he wasn't as dumb as a post, so I made arrangements for a massage in my room the following morning at 10:00 AM. I didn't know if I wanted a fling, but I believed if I didn't, Dale wouldn't force himself on me." "Jesus, Claire, you tell a hell of a story." "Thanks. A woman performed my one previous professional massage, and she did the massage while I was naked with a towel draped over me in strategic locations as I turned from front to back. I assumed that's how I should be for my massage with Dale, so I was naked under the robe I wore when I let him in the door promptly at ten the next morning. I paid him, and he set up the massage table and laid out the aromatherapy oils and other paraphernalia he used. When I dropped the robe to the floor and hopped on the table naked and turned onto my belly, his eyes widened, but he remained professional and quickly draped a towel over my bare butt. The table had a padded hole in it where I could rest my face while his hands did their magic, and they were magic, Scott. Ten minutes later, even I could smell my arousal. As he slipped his hands up my thighs, I felt his thumbs bump my pussy slightly, and I groaned. "'Sorry, ' he said. "'Don't be. If you want to touch me you can, Dale, ' I told him, and the next time his hands moved up my thighs, he lingered a while. I felt his thumbs spread the lips of my pussy, and suddenly it felt as if he were dribbling warm oil on my cunt. I raised my head and looked back at him. The towel was gone, and our eyes met just as he cupped my cunt and gently rubbed the oil all over its surface. "'Nice, ' I said or something like that. I warned him I was going to roll onto my back and he helped me. I pulled my knees up to my shoulders and spread them, opening my cunt to his view. 'Don't stop, ' I told him. He dribbled more oil, and his hand returned to my very hot cunt. My hands went to my breasts while he massaged my cunt. He didn't try to put his finger inside. He massaged it. I climaxed a few minutes later, and it was a massive climax, one of the best I ever had." Claire took a deep breath. She could feel her husband's cock throbbing inside her, but he had stopped thrusting a few minutes ago. "You're hot, aren't you?" "God, yes. I've been right at the edge for quite a while. Was that it? Is that all that happened?" "Not by a mile. You still don't know about the 'sort of' part. As I was recovering from the climax, he started his massage on the front of my body, careful to stay away from my sensitive nipples for a few minutes. "'What about you?' I inquired a few minutes later. I could see he had a hard-on. His white pants displayed a considerable bulge. He smiled, a delightfully boyish grin. "'I thought you'd never ask, ' he replied, and pulled off his t-shirt. He had a magnificent chest and a flat stomach that rippled, and after he dropped his pants I discovered he had a magnificent cock, too. To satisfy your need regarding size, I'd guess it was about eight inches long and slightly thicker than you, but it was as straight as an arrow with a fat, bulbous head. It was uncircumcised and as hard as a rock. I thought he was going to put it in my cunt, but he pulled a chair up at the end of the table and helped me scoot down. He dipped his head to my cunt and ate me. Unlike Mr. Washing Machine, Dale was most adept. His tongue was as talented as his hands. I came on his mouth a few minutes later. That's when he stood up and put his magnificent cock in my cunt. I remember saying something like, 'Yes, Dale, fuck me, Dale.' He looked down at me with his cock fully implanted in my cunt and said, 'My name is Dan. Dale is my twin brother. He's a lifeguard; I'm a massage therapist. "I believe the next words out of my mouth were, 'My God, there can't be two of you.' He laughed and thrust into me while his magic hands massaged my tits. My nipples were rock hard, like his cock. I closed my eyes and was daydreaming about Dan and Dale fucking me at the same time, when Dan said, 'Dale can get away for an early lunch break. He'd love to join us.'" Claire felt Scott's cock swell, and he moaned loudly with pleasure as an orgasm overwhelmed him. She joined him with a climax of her own. "Yes, Scott, come in me, lover!" she wailed. "Yes! Oh, God, you're magnificent. Yes!" "You fucked them both, didn't you?" he growled between thrusts as his semen spurted into her cunt. Her eyes had rolled back in her head at the time, but when she could, she gasped, "God, yes!" Soon, she collapsed back to the bed and sucked in air. "They double-teamed me for an hour, Scott. It was most exciting impromptu fuck I ever had." "Jesus!" he said as he rolled over between her legs careful to keep his still hard, throbbing cock inside her pussy. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her everywhere, her mouth, her eyes, her ears, her neck - everywhere. "God I love you, Claire. You're the sexiest woman in the world." What does that mean, she wondered. Is all forgiven? No, it means the story turned him on. That's all. Don't get your hopes up. Not yet. "I'll want to hear the rest of that story," Scott said. "But later, after we finish the list." ------- After Claire fell asleep, Scott rolled from the bed, threw on a robe and went to his office. He added Dan and Dale to the list, and turned off the computer. At the bar in the family room, he poured himself a brandy and settled in his chair to ponder the current state of his marriage. For the first time since the moon broke through the clouds and he saw Claire with Josh, he was optimistic. At first, he couldn't imagine Claire could love him and still fuck other men, but now he knew she loved him, and only him. Her "nature" still confused him, but then so did his. The fact that her flings aroused him confused him more than her adulterous behavior. He had never been more excited than he was earlier that evening while Claire told him about Dan and Dale. He had not moved inside her for at least ten minutes, but still his arousal continued to slowly increase, inexorably creeping ever closer and closer to an orgasm. He had stayed on the edge for so long his balls had started to ache, and when he finally careened into the void of an orgasm, his climax had been so powerful it briefly took him away from the here and now. Frankly, he had deferred the rest of the Dan-and-Dale story, so he could savor it another time, and he believed the images his imagination would evoke between now and the occasion Claire gave him the details would excite him without the harsh undercurrent of disgust for Claire's behavior. Yes, he had come a long way. Soon, Claire would finish telling him about her flings, and the list would be complete. Would his imagination still pull up lurid images of unreal events? No, he decided. She was being open and honest. She'd tell him everything, and he could put the unbidden images to rest. Oh, images would continue to flash into his mind, but they'd be real, or would apply to real situations. He knew he'd relive Claire's fling with the massage therapist over and over again, and he'd probably become aroused each time the images filled his mind. He rolled the brandy in the snifter and inhaled its fragrance. Looking up he saw Claire enter the room wearing a robe. She settled in his lap and kissed him. "Can't you sleep?" "Soon," he said. "I've been sitting here thinking about you and me." "Did you come to any conclusions?" "Sort of." They laughed softly together. "How many more flings, Claire?" "Three." The number surprised him. He had expected more. "Mr. Washing Machine was the first," she said. "Then Tillman. A year later Dan and Dale, and shortly after our return from Phoenix, came the handyman. Then we decided to start our family and I went off the pill. I certainly didn't want anyone but you to be the father of our child, and the following year little Katy came along and took up all my time. Two years separated Mr. Handyman and the next one, one of the three I haven't told you about. Then came the other bad one I wrote about today. Then two others I haven't mentioned. And you know about the last one, Josh. That's it." "Would you mind if I short-circuited your timeframe?" "Not at all. What do you have in mind?" "Tomorrow, would you sit down at the computer and put the remaining three on the list?" "Certainly." "I'll read them and probably ask some questions, and perhaps have you give me details while I'm inside you. While I was sitting here sipping brandy, I decided I could handle your past, Claire. It's a new year. What better time for some resolutions. Let's talk about the future." "Really? You can handle my past?" "Yes." "Oh, Scott!" She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him passionately. "Thank you! Thank you! I promise I'll never be unfaithful again. I promise!" "Is that your resolution?" "Yes! God, I love you!" "You're leaving out your nature - and mine." "What?" "What happens a year from now, no make that two, I want another child. What happens... ?" "Another child! Yes, a boy this time!" "A healthy baby of either gender." "A boy, damn it! A little Scott!" He chuckled. "Whatever. What happens two years from now when your 'nature' raises its licentious head again?" "I'll ignore it." "Maybe, maybe not. You honestly don't equate sex and love, Claire. I find the concept utterly confusing, but it works for you. Let's say I accept your promise, and you break it, because you will you know. You can't go against your nature anymore than the scorpion could in the fable about the scorpion and the frog. Claire, I don't think I could go through what we just went through again. I would stop trusting you completely if you broke an important promise to me even one more time." "What do you have in mind then?" "Let's talk about my nature." She smiled. "Okay, let's." "When you told me about Dan and Dale, I wasn't disgusted, Claire." "You weren't?" "No. God, I was excited, more excited than I've ever been, but that doesn't mean I want you to fall victim to the first urge you have for a quick, nasty, hot, impromptu fuck, either. We need to set some limits." "Such as?" "One, no flings for two years, or as long as needed for us to have another baby." "Agreed." "Number two, no more than one a year." "Let's make it an average of one a year." "Okay, but I want to know about them before they happen." She hesitated. "That limit sort of takes the spontaneity out of the event, doesn't it? My nature requires spontaneity." "Not necessarily. Could you have called me before Mr. Handyman, Mr. Washing Machine, and Dan and Dale, or for that matter, talked to me regarding Josh before you dragged him out to the gazebo?" "Yes." "On the other hand you had no opportunity to call me before Tillman or the other bad one. Correct?" "Yes. I see what you mean. If I can't talk to you before it happens, it probably shouldn't happen." "Give the lady a cigar!" She laughed. "Agreed." "When you call, I have veto rights." "That goes without saying. Agreed." "No fling with anyone we know, like Josh, for example." "I couldn't agree more. God, he's such a sleaze!" "And lastly, you must tell me all the details the same day or the day after while I'm inside you." She laughed. "Which applies to your nature. Agreed." "Ahem, regarding my nature. You've intimated you were a bit wild before we married." "A bit wild isn't accurate, Scott. I was over-the-top wild sometimes. Sorry." "Don't be sorry. I'd like to hear the details of some of your wild experiences, those you enjoyed, not those you wish had never happened." "Really?" "Yes." "You just surprised me, Scott. Like you said about me earlier, I love the new you, Scott Dillon." He pulled her into a soft romantic kiss, which felt so full of love he wanted to weep. "I know it's late, but let's go back to bed and make love. Just you and me, Claire, without any ghosts from your past. Just you and me." "What a fine idea." As they strolled arm-in-arm toward their bedroom, Scott reflected on the astonishing revelations of the New Year - and the resolutions. No more lies. No more broken promises. He felt happy again, so full of joy he wished he had kept one of the noisemakers they had passed out at the party. He suddenly felt like celebrating. He leaned and kissed his wife's cheek. "Happy New Year, sweetheart." ------- The End ------- Posted: 2002-04-10 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------