I was cleaning off some old files, transferring them to smaller, more portable hard drives with password protection. I also cleaned out some old floopy's and some zip drives. And in doing so I came across the photos of my wife with the black man she cheated on me with. I said to myself, well, it is something you need to deal with, and she was out of town anyway, so I opened up the file and revisited them.
They were erotic of course--but there was none of the "magic" that they both claimed was there at the time. It was just two people enjoying fucking each other. In the same folder was some notes I had made to myself during that time, and one that bothered me, right in the middle of things when I first discovered the photos he had sent her on our computer of the two of themh together.
When first confronted I demanded she choose. She deferred, saying she had to talk to a friend first. And then later she said, "I will make it up to you." But then later I was reminded that she was still in contact with him behind my back. So I stewed on this for a week or two. What would I say to her that I had not already said?
Inside I was furious all over again. And I became angry with myself for not being able to handle it any better. And I did a lot of introspection.
I had gotten to the point since she has quit hotwifing that if she wanted to start back and spend do an overnight without me, if I was comfortable with the guy, that it would be hot. She had loosened up a bit and is willing to now role play anything--as long as I understand that is it for the role playing and not because she wants to do it for real--even if she gets turned on during.
So I dropped her going away with a lover and coming back and telling me about it as a role play.
It turned her on. A few nights later, after I had taken another look at her attraction to her lover from that time--the only one she told that she had loved him--and I had drunk far too much that night, and during the description of the fantasy I told her to imagine that I was ok with her seeing him again (she had told me that recently), but only on condition that she had to fuck someone else in between every fuck with him (like I said, I was really drunk), and then just for the hell of it I threw in that she would have to get a tattoo on her pussy--a black spade. The sex was good, we went to sleep, and neither mentioned it when we awoke. I seriously suspected she had been too drunk herself to even mention it.
The problem was other than talking about it in fantasy I was still hurt and angry about all of it. Especially the lies, the betrayal, etc. "It wasn't about you fucking him, " I told her, "you had permission to do that. But you had to betray my trust."
You can't live with someone for years without being able to pick up on things, and that night as we sat out on the porch of the mountain cabin, it all just boiled over. She kept pushing to find out what was wrong with me, why I was so angry at her, and I let it all out. All of it. And maybe I was more articulate this time, as she seemed to get it.
It was a rambling blow-up. Ranging from "that time you were spending with him behind my back was attention you were stealing from me, and you didn't have the right to do that." I told her that giving her permission to enjoy other men was a gift (she nodded) but a gift she had thrown back in my face. Half way through it she brought up the role play of doing him again.
"I do want to," she said.
"Could you without getting emotionally involved again?" I asked.
"No. I really do not want to see him again because of that." Then she got more solemn, and added, "I will make it up to you like promised. I will get a tattoo like you described if you want me to."
I paused then. "And I didn't say I wouldn't ever do another black guy again," she added, "I said I didn't want to right now--and I'm not sure if I ever will want to again. In the right opportunity, in the right frame of mind, I probably would."
This was one of those serious back-side-of-the-argument moments, when a couple actually come to a realization and resolve certain things and reach a more honest understanding with each other.
I told her I was furious with her for doing that--and I was furious with myself for even considering her being with him again--even in fantasy.
"I will do someone else if you want me to," she said, "if you think that would help."
"No, the biggest part of it in the past has been because YOU wanted to. If you don't want to I know there is some kind of price to pay down the road--and I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
"There wouldn't be a price," she said. The conversation stalled. "Are we going to have sex tonight or continue arguing."
"I don't have anything else to say," I said, "I have put it all out there." Then I smiled at her, "and this make-up sex is usually pretty good."
So we ended the night on a positive note, and I felt better, and I think she may have finally understood the gutting she had done to me over this, and for the first time I felt she actually felt remorse for having done it.
And when I first slid inside her, into her very hot and soaked pussy, I stopped. She opened her eyes and looked into mine. "What?" she asked.
"I was wondering if I could get a rain check on you doing someone else for me," I said.
"Yes," she laughed before I stopped it with a kiss.
Truthfully I do not expect anything beyond the conversation--but I guess the thing is the conversation continues.
The next day though she did say, "Why don't I get a henna tattoo there first and see how we like it."