It Was Only a Blowjob Ch. 01

I called six more of her friends, with equal responses from all, except for a few caveats such as it's not cheating if both spouses agree to it, or if they're separated, or if it's forced.

"They're wrong," she continued to argue. "If you can't get a baby from it, it's not cheating."

"So if you let someone fuck you in the ass, that's not cheating?"

She blushed. "I didn't say that."

"That's exactly what you said. You can't get a baby from it. Hell, according to your definition, if you use a rubber or you're on the pill it's not cheating."

She was getting angrier. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"No, I have no idea what you mean. What do you think cheating is?" I asked.

"Sex. A penis and vagina. Penetration. That's cheating."

"Not anal sex?"

She sighed. "I guess I'd consider that cheating. That's wrong."

"But oral sex isn't?"

"Of course not. It's not love. Look, my breasts, my pussy, my ass, they're private. I keep them covered. Nobody sees them but you and my doctor. They're sex organs, I mean the butt isn't really, but it can be used that way. I keep my sex for you, only you. Nobody's allowed close. The mouth isn't. It's there for everyone to see. Eating, talking, breathing..."

"Kissing?"

"Exactly! Kissing isn't cheating. We kiss people all the time. We kiss our parents and our baby. The mouth isn't like the rest."

"How about a man's cock? Isn't that a sex organ?"

She nodded. "Obviously. But unless they come together it's not cheating. Some guy tries to stick his prick in me, he's dead meat."

"So if I were to go over to Misty's right now, take her clothing off and go down on her, that wouldn't be cheating."

"Of course it would! That's her naked pussy, I'd never let anyone but you touch mine. Why would you want to do that anyway, when you've got me? I'll do anything you want."

"Damn you're screwed up. Oral sex with a woman is cheating, with a man it's not?"

"It's not the same. You know it." She sighed. "This should be easy to understand. If I don't think it's cheating, it's not, and you shouldn't think it is either."

Unbelievable.

I grabbed the phone again, dialing, waiting for the answer.

"Wendy?"

"Mom?" Wendy answered, looking at me in fear.

"Hi Carol, John here."

"What's going on? Why are you both on the phone? There's nothing wrong with Jeannie is there?" I could hear the fear in her voice. I was only hoping I could get the right words out of her. The damn woman was a chatterbox. Not all that fond of me, either. I was taking a big chance.

"No, Jeannie's fine. Wendy and I have a simple question I hope you can help us with."

"Whatever I can do, you know that."

"What's cheating in a marriage?"

"Why? What's going on? You didn't cheat on her did you, you bastard!" she shrieked.

"I haven't done anything, Carol. I promise. We're having a problem coming to terms. Please, when is it considered cheating?"

She was slow to answer. "Times have changed, John. Things aren't the way they were when I was growing up. Flirting and teasing is so much more common. When I was young, half the stuff you do would be considered cheating. We didn't have emails and texts. All that online flirting. It's different now."

"So sex is Ok?" I asked.

"What! What have you done?"

"Nothing. I repeat. I have done nothing. I've never cheated, or anything close to it. I only want to make sure we're on the same page."

"Sex is not Ok! Don't even pretend you think it is!" Wendy's mother snapped. "Wendy! You're not going to let him get away with this. You have to draw the line. If you don't, he'll run all over you."

"Mom," Wendy sighed. "It was just a blowjob. No big deal, right?"

"John, you son of a bitch! Wait until Ed hears about this! You get your ass out of that house you lousy cheating bastard! I don't want you ever touching our daughter again, do you hear me? Just a blowjob! Like anyone is going to put up with that shit! I always knew you'd do something like this. Fancy job, all those pretty girls around you all the time. Was it your big tit secretary? Was that who it was Wendy?"

I saw the tears in her eyes, "There was no cheating, Mom. He would never do that to me. We just had to make sure we agreed where to draw the line."

"Don't lie to me, and don't cover for that son-of-a-bitch! You don't deserve this, and don't let him tell you otherwise. I bet he told you it was the pregnancy, didn't he? You get fat and tired, and all they do is think with their little heads." She was getting louder. "Damn you, John! Was it the baby? Is that your excuse? We can't help it if we can't have sex afterward. You have no idea how hard that is on a woman. We have to heal, and I know it doesn't feel right for a long time after, but that's part of being a family and parents. That's a lousy fucking excuse, for sticking your tiny little prick in some slut's mouth!"

I couldn't help but grin. Man, she was worked up. She never cursed. Never. Lord, I was on her shit-list.

"Carol. I've done nothing. I swear. It's something we have to work out on our own."

"Wendy?"

"He's right Mom. He didn't do anything."

The silence hung heavy. "Oh no!" I heard her gasp. "You didn't! Tell me you didn't, baby! It had to be an accident. John, you know she loves you. She would never cheat on you. It must be a misunderstanding. Please, think of the baby. You have to forgive her."

"She'll call you later, Ok? Sorry to bother you, Carol."

"No John, don't hang up. Don't, please! She loves you. We all love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to her. You do love him, don't you, baby?"

Wendy had tears running down her face. "Yes Mom. I love him. I always have. I love him with all my heart."

"See John? See? She loves you. Don't do anything stupid. Nothing you'll regret, Ok? We can work through this. It's all a mistake. One big stupid mistake. I know it is."

I interrupted her. "Carol, stop. She'll call you later. Thanks for helping." I hung up before I'd have to listen to any more of her chattering. If I cheated I was a lousy rotten bastard son-of-a-bitch. Her precious daughter was misunderstood. Of course. How could I miss it?

I thought that would be the end of it. Wendy grabbed the phone out of my hand, and started pressing numbers angrily. A few seconds later the other end picked up.

"Hey girl, how'd the party go? Have a good time?"

Wendy glared at me. "Blowjobs aren't cheating, are they?"

"Of course not. Everyone knows that, sis."

"Hey Alice, John here. You want to put your husband on the phone? I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinion on blowjobs." I asked my sister-in-law.

The phone went dead.

Wendy looked at me confused. "It must have been an accident," she said, grabbing the phone and hitting redial. The phone rang a couple of times, then picked up and went back to a dial-tone.

"Why would she do that?" Wendy whined, finally looking nervous. She dialed again and the phone was busy. "It shouldn't be busy, they have call waiting." She hung up again, and it went back to busy.

She settled back into the couch, looking fearful. "It doesn't matter anyway. You heard her. Blowjobs don't count."

"You think Dave has the same opinion?"

She seemed to ponder it. "Listen, honey. It shouldn't matter. This was all a misunderstanding. I didn't think it was cheating, but I guess you did. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Wendy, let me ask you a simple question. Would you have given him a blowjob in front of me? In front of Misty, his wife?"

Part of her problem, I honestly believe, is she didn't think things out. She didn't think about what she was doing, and she didn't think before she spoke.

"Of course not! That would be so embarrassing," she answered quickly.

"I want you to think about something. Don't speak yet. Just take a moment to ponder. You should never do something with another man that you wouldn't do in front of me. Think about that. If you wouldn't do it in front of me, it's a type of cheating."

For once, she did as I asked. She was quiet, focused on what I'd said. I didn't press her, letting her work it out for herself.

She finally nodded. "Ok, I get it. I didn't think you'd like that, but if you want, next time I could blow him in front of you. It's not that big a deal. It might even be better, he won't bug me so much about doing more. If you want to see it, I guess that would be fine."

Jesus-Fucking-Christ. Next time?

I got up and walked out before I did something rash, hearing her call out from behind me. "John! Don't walk away. We need to get past this. I want to make things right," she yelled, before the closing door silenced her.

I went to work trying to get my mind off my problems. I was running through scenarios to get a little payback from the assholes who were using my wife. I had to be careful, we had a lot of government contracts, and I had to carry a security clearance which I didn't want to jeopardize. Jail would not be good.

A few hours with my head buried in my work, and I wasn't feeling a whole lot better. We were at such loggerheads. Nothing I said seemed to get through to her that her behavior was unacceptable.

Did I believe she thought it was no big deal? Sadly, yes. She was doing bad things, horrible things for our marriage, but it wasn't that she was trying to hurt me, or even was careless about her family. I honestly was beginning to believe she didn't understand the ramifications of her actions, and was very possibly misled by her lousy sister.

Our love life had been exceptional. She was loving, attentive, and generous with her affection. Ever since we were married, she was very physically demonstrative, and a tiger in the bed. She loved oral sex, giving much more than receiving. It was true that for most of our marriage she'd blow me as much as I wanted, maybe even more. It was no exaggeration that I could get blown every day, twice a day if I desired.

Until the pregnancy.

The first 7 months hadn't changed things much, but she had issues late, and was under bed-rest much of the time. I took care of her the best I could, with a lot of help from her mother and sister.

It struck me that her sister Alice had spent a lot of time with her, before and after the pregnancy. I had never had a problem with Alice. She was friendly, attractive, and seemed to have a good solid marriage. She liked to flirt a little, but nothing over the top. We didn't socialize a lot, but I never had an issue with her. Until now. That call had really knocked me for a loop.

After the pregnancy, nothing had happened for a couple of weeks, then for the next month, she seemed determined to suck my damn cock off. After 6 weeks the doctor gave her the OK to start having sex again, but it was still another week of multiple daily blowjobs, before I ended up back between her legs.

I'd been doing without sex for a few months, and for the next several weeks her oral efforts ended up with me plowing her hot little pussy gratefully. I'll confess, she didn't feel the same after giving birth, she'd been a tight fuck until the baby, but I wasn't complaining. I loved it, and I loved her.

I often was able to give her a double dose, but the one thing she didn't really like to do was suck me after I'd been inside her. If that was her only issue, I wasn't going to make an issue of it.

It wasn't until the blowup, that I realized how drastically the oral sex had fallen off. I could take part of the blame, as soon as she got me hard, I wanted to spread her sexy legs and pound one into her. I realized she may have been tapering off because she didn't enjoy the sex as much as she did the oral. Like I said, every blowjob ended up with my blowing a load inside of her, and I had forgotten how much she loved cum, playing with it, tasting it. I wasn't giving her what she needed, but she'd never said anything.

In a way, I'd let her down. I only wished we'd communicated.

I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to face her, and her thick-headed arguments. I couldn't stand to see that cheating mouth that had at least 5 loads dropped in it that weren't mine. I hadn't given her a taste in almost a month. From twice a day to nothing.

Tom, Jarrod, Aaron. Motherfuckers. She might have been stupid, naive and confused, but those assholes knew better. All of them married. Sticking their cocks in my wife's mouth. They had to pay.

I went out to eat, and while waiting for my dinner, I turned on my cell phone and checked my messages. My voice-mail box was full. I started listening to them, and got mad again, 3-3-7, forward to the end and delete. Six from Wendy, none of which I managed to listen to through the end. Two from her mother. Two more from Misty, Tom's wife. One from my mother. Jesus, what a mess.

I'd been throwing around the word divorce a lot. I was furious with her, but I couldn't deny I loved her more than I had imagined possible. I wanted things back the way they were, and resolved that even if I didn't divorce her, I'd still have to divorce myself from the crowd we'd been around. No way I could hold my head up around those fucking bastards. No way.

While eating my meal, I texted my wife. I wasn't ready to speak to her, but I didn't want this thing completely blowing up, either. Not yet. If it did, I was going to control it.

I let her know that I'd gone into work, to distract myself from what she'd done to our marriage. I was eating out.

Five minutes later, while drinking my after dinner coffee, I got a response. Please hurry home. I love you. I'm sorry. Short and to the point.

It wasn't like an affair. I didn't believe she'd fallen out of love with me, or intentionally disrespected me. But she was so damned stupid. Blowjobs didn't matter? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see my way around that. Or how she stuck to it, against all odds and other viewpoints. I thought about that a while. Perhaps she did understand, but was clinging to her argument so she wouldn't have to take responsibility for her slutty actions.

I love D.C. at night. The later the better. When the traffic was gone, and the monuments and buildings were lit up. A drive around the reflecting pool, seeing the monuments, up and down the mall with all the museums, the Capitol, the Washington Monument.

I stopped for a couple of beers, still avoiding the scene at home. What was I going to do? How could we get past this? Did I want to make an effort, or would it be easier to cut bait and take my loss? Could I ever look at her the same?

My three month old perfect daughter, Jeannie. Holding her for the first time, with my tired smiling wife in that little room, surrounded by the doctor, nurses, her mother and sister. Little tiny fingers. Ten of them. Each a miniature masterpiece. Pressing mine into her palm hoping she'd clutch it. Angry red face, wispy dark hair. My child. Our child. God, how I loved to hold her! Settled into the crook of my arm, late at night, singing to her with my lousy voice, smelling her, feeling the negligent weight slowly tiring my arm, until I'd switch to the other. The instant feeling of loss when I passed her to anyone else. Mine. A little bit of me. I couldn't lose that.

I had to somehow work things out with Wendy. Let her see how I felt. Get past the denial and back to the way things should be. I hoped we wouldn't have to move, but if that's what it took, so be it.

A few people tried to strike up conversations, but I was having none of it. I perched on my stool, and worked my way through a pair of large Guinnesses, feeling sorry for myself, and desperately trying to avoid thoughts of what my wife had done.

My incoming-text ring went off. I'd had a few normal call rings, but had silenced each one. This one was from Wendy again. Are you coming home? I miss you. I'm sorry.

I believed she was sorry. Not just for getting caught, but for doing anything to hurt us. I still was certain she believed I was the unreasonable one. Bitch.

I texted her back. Soon. I love you too. Kiss Jeannie for me

Her response was immediate. She's staying at Mom's. Thank you

I paid my bill, and got in my car, taking a moment to make sure that the beer with dinner and two more in the bar hadn't left me too impaired to drive. I felt a bit of a buzz, but I'd taken a few hours to drink what I had, and didn't think I was over the line.

I took a nostalgic drive up 14th street, seeing the urbanization. When I was a kid, 14th and K was the seediest place around. Dirty movie parlors and packs of prostitutes on every corner. For a teenager it was eye opening. The women would wave, and often flash you, running over to the car at a stoplight and sticking their head in the window if it was open.

I remember one nasty looking woman sticking her head in my window and instantly reaching between my legs. Her skirt was so short you could see her underwear. My buddy Ralph was laughing as we pulled away. He was in the backseat and claimed he'd reached out through his window and stuck his finger up inside her, while she was trying to convince me to let her give me a blowjob.

It wasn't the same anymore. Urban renewal. I drove past the park at K street, and turned right on L, the next street up, headed east toward 7th St, Georgia Ave, and back home.

As I neared 11th and L, I started seeing the same sights I remembered from back in the day. The girls were still around, they'd just relocated. I thought it was a little ironic they'd set up shop right next to the Department of Justice building.

At the stop light I heard a tapping on my window. I looked over and saw a haggard young girl looking in hopefully. To this day I can't tell you why I rolled down my window.

"Looking for a good time?" she asked hesitantly, leaning over and showing me her dangling smallish breasts, holding her shirt open.

"Aren't you young for this?" I asked, without thinking.

She blushed. Really. I kid you not. A blushing hooker. "I'm legal, if that's your problem. I promise you, it'll be good." She looked up and down the street. "You're not a cop, are you?"

I laughed. "No. I'm not a cop. You're not, are you?" Already, the seeds of an idea were taking root.

She shook her head. "Can I get in?"

That seemed strange. Then again, what did I know about hookers? "Isn't that dangerous?"

"I can't afford to get busted, and I really need the money," she said. I could swear I saw tears in her eyes. Hell of a sales technique. It was cold out, and she was barely dressed. I could see the goosebumps on her arm, and she was trembling. She looked miserable. I didn't find her attractive, I had far better at home. She didn't turn me on. She broke my heart. What drove a kid to this?

I hit the unlock button, and I watched her long skinny leg slide into the car, 4 inch clear plastic heel first, with at least a two-inch platform. She slid her red vinyl-skirted butt into the car and closed the door, then rolled up the window.

"In the car? Or do you have some place to go?" she asked.

"Don't you have someplace nearby you take your Johns?"

She shook her head. "I'm working solo, and trying to keep it that way. I don't need some stupid bastard taking my money, and telling me what I have to do."

"Been doing this long?" I asked, starting to wonder what I was doing.

She smiled. "You're a talker, aren't you? Can I get at least $20, even if we don't do anything? Time is money, you know."

I pulled onto Mass. Ave, across Mt. Vernon place. "I won't send you home broke. I promise."

"This isn't solicitation," she said nervously. "I haven't offered sex for money."

"Relax, I'm not a cop. How old are you?" Damn if she didn't look like she was 16.

I turned onto 7th St., headed North, and was surprised when she pushed a driver's license in front of my face. "I'm 18. Since October. Satisfied?" She sounded angry, tucking her license away, before I even got a chance to look at it. "I thought you old guys liked the young girls anyway. I can be 13 for you."