Something... Talk About in Tx Ch. 01

"I can see how that could happen. Everyone needs to feel good about themselves. I had hoped that being a wonderful mother and terrific wife would have filled that need. I understand you weren't getting the feedback from us, that you were from him." Jonathan was finding it harder to keep up the act. Doing nothing wrong! Then why did she hide it for a year?

She had finished her wine, and Jonathan refilled her glass. She took a long sip gratefully. "It happened so fast, I wasn't ready for it. Things went slowly at first. Some phone calls, a few lunch meetings or having a coffee together. We talked. Talked like you and I didn't anymore. He was easy to talk to. He wanted to go to dinner, but I couldn't. I was a married woman. There's a difference between a lunch and a dinner. I offered to cook him a meal. It was a little weird at first, in a strange kitchen, not knowing where anything was. A little exciting if I'm honest. I still had no romantic feelings, he was just a friend."

Jonathan filled his own glass. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't need a blow by blow. He just wanted her to tell him what was wrong with their marriage that she had to fuck another man for a year. Not this sappy whining monologue about friendship. Men don't want women for friends. He knew that the slimy bastard intended to get into his wife's pants from the very beginning. He wanted to shake her, and explain it to her. Make her understand. The poor-pitiful-me act, playing on her mothering instincts. Instead, he tried to stay calm, nodding occasionally.

"After that, it became easier to go his house, than out in public. It was private, and we could talk more openly. Plus, I didn't want anyone to get ideas about us. We were just friends." She looked at him hopefully, that he might understand.

"Go on," Jonathan said.

She felt so good to be able to talk it out. Surely he would understand now. This was all they needed. A little time for him to get over the shock, to let his male ego take a back seat. Once he understood why, it would all be fine.

"I helped him around the house. He was so disorganized. Cleaned a little. Helped rearrange things. He'd let everything go after his wife's accident. We talked more; we could talk about anything. Sometimes we talked about our wants and needs. Then some more about our desires, our fantasies. Things we had done, or wanted to do. It wasn't about sex, it was about communication, sharing, understanding."

"He was seducing you," Jonathan blurted, not meaning to say the words.

She looked surprised. "No! Never. He was a friend. Someone who needed me, and who I needed. Good friends can talk about things like that. That was all. He's not like that."

Jonathan bit his lip, waiting. If he opened his mouth, the entire night's effort would be wasted. He tilted the bottle up and poured the last of it into her glass.

"It...it just happened. I was in the kitchen, and then we were kissing. I know I should have stopped it, but it was a kiss between friends. Then suddenly it wasn't. I don't even know how I ended up in his bedroom." Her hand was shaking as she sipped her wine.

She looked up at him, and he saw tears in her eyes. "I never meant for it to happen. I felt horrible. I came home and showered, scrubbing and scrubbing, but I could never get myself clean. I had cheated for the only time in my marriage, and I hated myself for it. I knew you'd see it in my eyes, but you only grabbed a beer, and sat on the couch. You didn't ask me, didn't see the guilt. I wondered if you even cared."

She drank down half her wine. "I tried to end it. He called and I told him to stop. I avoided him, not going anywhere we used to go. I swore to myself I'd never do anything like that again, and I'd make it up to you. Then I heard he was in the hospital, from an overdose of sleeping pills, and I knew it was because of me. I'd almost killed him. I... I went to him, to help him, but we promised each other that it could never happen again.

"I'm so sorry, Jonathan. I tried to stop it. I swear I did. I felt so bad seeing him slipping away again."

Jonathan was furious. At his stupid gullible wife, and that slimy predator. Overdose, my ass! he thought. A few pills, a call to the hospital, and he had her back, after she resisted his efforts. Lousy mother-fucker.

Jonathan took the empty glass from her, and placed it on the bedside table. She was sobbing, and he drew her into his arms, holding her. If she'd only talked then, this could have all been avoided. He could have forgiven her one stupid mistake. He was fairly certain he could. But a year of adultery? Demanding that she be allowed to keep seeing that slimeball? Threatening him. No, that he couldn't accept. She'd pay, they'd both pay.

He guided her down to the bed. She whimpered when he let her go, but all he did was turn off the lights. He pulled her close, holding her, letting his hands caress her body, slowly becoming more intimate. Moving from her sides and shoulders to her breasts. Brushing down her hips, across her thighs. Reaching between her legs and rubbing her gently, feeling her moistness. Playing her body, in all the ways that excited her.

She sat up and pulled her shirt off, lying naked in their bed. She turned to him reaching out. He braced himself for the more intimate contact. He was torn. He was disgusted with her, but her body was something he knew so well, had pleasured him so many times. It was tainted now, but still enthralling.

He eased her backward, leaning over her. He couldn't kiss her. That filthy, lying, cheating mouth of hers. He pressed his lips to her neck, right where it excited her most. He tweaked her nipples, then moved his hand south and started playing with her.

In only a few minutes she was pressing back desperately. He pulled his hand away, hearing the sharpness of her breath, smelling her need. The slut. He cuddled against her, putting his arm around her, holding her.

"Love me, Jonathan. Please. It's been too long," she whispered.

"No, baby. I won't be second to him. I can't do that."

She reached for him. "You are never second. I love you. You're my husband. You're first, he's second. My nights are yours. They've always been."

"You spent two nights in his bed. I have no doubt that once I'm at work you'll be fucking him again. I get a few moments with you, but he can spend all his time with you, pampering you, telling you how wonderful you are, stealing you away from me. I can't do it."

"Honey, it hasn't been a problem for over a year now. You don't even have to know. When I'm here with you I'm only yours."

He had tried. Damn, how he'd tried. The words were like knives, filleting him open. He released her, and rolled away from her, onto his side.

Fucking slut. I married a fucking cheating whoresome slut.

Susan didn't understand, couldn't understand what had just happened. He'd been so good, loving, understanding. Then to shut down like that. Why couldn't he just love her? Make love to her? Nothing had changed. She moved to him, wrapping her arms around his wide body. He was so strong, made her feel small, feminine. She felt him tense up, and she felt a pang of guilt. What if she had stopped, back then? After that first time.

She sighed. Too late for that now. She had to make him understand. Nothing would change. It could be good again. Maybe even wonderful again, like it had been in the beginning.

She found herself rubbing up against him, her nipples still hard, still agitated. She needed him. How could he not know?

Her hand reached around to his waist, and he shuddered when her fingers wrapped around his hardness. "Please, Jonathan," she whispered. "I know you want me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"Never again, so long as you're seeing him," Jonathan said coldly, rolling away from her onto his stomach.

Susan turned away from him, the rejection painful. She didn't even try to hold back the tears, as she cried herself to sleep.

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The final part of this continuation is being submitted at the same time. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this alternative ending.