If you’ve followed this blog so far it is evident that it had been great up until now. But like the stock market—things change.
A NEW YEAR AND THINGS TURN TO SHIT
She had bladder surgery the first of the year which precluded any sexual activity for six weeks. I left for my trade show trip prior to her recovery, anticipating a very fun homecoming to celebrate her recovery and resumption of sex.
I was gone about a week. I had worked like crazy editing all of the past movies of her getting fucked, setting them to music, adding overlay titles, etc. I made one for every day, and had a detailed “assignment” list to keep her stimulated and have her especially horny upon my return. I hid the CD’s in different places, with the idea of giving her a location each day.
I called the first day, she was sick, next day she was tired, I gave her the location of the first cd and asked her to look at it. Whenever I would call after the first day I’d ask, “Did you look at the CD?” She never did so I didn’t need to give her the other locations.
She basically was in bed, asleep, preoccupied with cleaning, and a dozen different reasons why she wasn’t in the mood to play with my stimulation for the entire trip, which was obvious.
I got back and we enjoyed some great sex, and life was back to normal and great.
A few days after I was back I went to her desk to answer a phone and noticed she had left her email up, and out of curiosity I opened it and noticed an email from Terrell. Now of course we weren’t supposed to be communicating with her lovers without each other’s knowledge, and here he was emailing it. Violation of agreement number 1. Then I saw there was an attachment, so I clicked on it, downloading a zip file of photos.
I opened the first jpeg and she was naked on the bed, close up of her pussy. The thought went through my head that she was taking photos of herself to send to him, and that was erotic, although I was uncomfortable that I had not been kept in the loop.
The next one was her posed by our front doors, legs flexed, ass jutted out, wearing her fur coat, and the next of her in a very low cut cowl neck top I had tried to get her to wear out on several occasions but she had never done.
Then the shock came when the next picture was of her with Terrell, both of them together smiling at the camera in one of those head together poses in which one of the couple holds the camera out and takes a photo of themselves, and in the background I could see our same doors. The rest of the photos were of her stripping nude, and of his cock inside her and of her wearing an apron and nothing else at our stove wearing a “will cook for sex” apron (again something we had bought in the past that she had but has never worn for me). He had been in our house, fucking my wife.
She wasn’t at home, and I paced for hour or two, hyperventilating, pacing, and trying to get a handle on myself first. I finally downloaded the photos to my computer, made a quick slide show of with “I can’t make you love me if you don’t” playing in the background, and when she got home I set her down and made her watch it with me.
This is probably not the place to get into that, but at that exact moment I would have been lost if she had walked out. And she took the aggressive roll with me wanting her to stay. I started off telling her to choose him or me.
She basically decided that maybe she should leave me—and that alone rocked me back—and I realized that I did want her to stay—but I also wanted her to stop fucking around behind my back. I told her to pick one of us.
Her answer, “I don’t know, I want to talk to my sister first.”
Of course at this point it all started coming out. She had invited him to our house while I was at the trade show. She had met him at the airport wearing the fur coat with the open cowl neck shirt, panties, and stocking and garter underneath (and nothing else).
In the course of their weekend together, at her instigation, they fucked in every room on our house (all four) plus the couch. I finally asked her, what we had that was an intimacy between us that she had not shared with him, from posing for photos to fucking in a room with the pictures of our kids on the wall. It was just COLD.
And he had never used a condom. I demanded that she get tested for AIDS.
There was enough reality and business going on that we actually had to put everything on hold to take care of that—and it got to the point that I told her she could stay of she wanted to, but I was through clinging. And am. If she wanted to go, she should go, but I was at the point I really didn’t give a shit either way. And I wasn’t through following up.
I got the entry to our phone records to see what I was dealing with and discovered she had been texting him 8-10 times a day, and when I finally went into the cell phone store getting the first print outs she called me as I stood in line and told me over the phone that I would see several calls to Sam on it as well. What the hell?
I was an emotional wreck for weeks afterward. So I have about a three month gap of bullshit in the middle of this. Suffice to say I’m still here, she’s still here, and things seem back to normal.
As a penance and something to do for me she did get one nipple pierced, and showed it around New Orleans at Mardi Gras. Later she went to visit a friend in New York took it out for a few hours, before it healed and it closed up. So we went back to a different piercer, she got repeirced and then looking at the one in the mirror laid back down and had him do the other. She got rings this time.
Journal entry from that time:
So we talked about it and over that I discovered she didn’t see anything wrong with it, despite the deceit, the lies, and I shot back that she knew it was wrong, why else would she have kept it from me.
I told her last night that my one fear was that she would force me to do something that I didn’t want to do—which was leave. I have forgiven enough. I have hurt enough over her inability to be honest with me. And this is the bottom line. I don’t know if she knows it or not—I do not think it matters if she knows or not—as long as I know where the line is—and I have already planned and know my course of action if it happens. I will find someone out there that does love me, and she can grow old and alone on her own. I know as good looking as she is that won’t happen—but at that point someone else is paying the price of being married to a beautiful unfaithful woman.
So in the end we decided, or I decided, that we had too much time together to waste. I had a friend who was a basket case who had just divorced and I certainly didn’t want to see myself in that shape. I even contemplated suicide. But in the end we came to an uneasy truce and kept things as they were. End of Journal entry.
From November until May we did nothing outside our marriage—all our time was consumed trying to keep our marriage together, due to my wife’s lying, deceitful, betrayal—and her, well the only word I can find to describe it—her stupidity. I think one of the saving graces of all the pain was that she agreed with that analysis.
This is probably not what you expected in this journey, and for the time span this took roughly five months of recovery—not total recovery, nor will their ever be that, but a tolerance, and a constant knowledge that my wife is capable of looking me straight in the face and lying like a dog. The pain is still there, but I have learned to deal with it, to tolerate it, and keep it from consuming me.
When it is all said and done if you look back at the beginning of this blog you will remember we started dating basically as children—and that is a lot of time just to throw away.
So with the long gap of our journey taken up by the aftermath of the above, there will be a gap in this blog as well. We do pick it back up, but everything is different after this. And frankly as I have written this blog, and gone back over the older journal entries, I’ve relived so much of it. The fun and erotic parts have been great—and this post—well I’m reliving it, and I just have to absorb it all again.
We do survive, we do go on, it does get better, and she gets more black dick, and I will post again, but I’m going to give it a rest for a while. I will try to answer comments.