Wesome

"Oh yes." I really wished she could've kept the excitement out of her voice.

"And the time I interrupted? Would you have gone further?"

"Yes. The first time, I mean the only time, was short. It was all about Susan."

"So if I hadn't interrupted, you'd have fucked him?"

Jill paused, not like she was guilty, but considering. "It may have gone that way, I think it might have."

I just broke eye contact. I held my head in my hands. Fuck.

"Garret, I love you. I will do anything to make this up to you. Anything."

"That's so cliche, 'I'll do anything'. But you won't."

Without hesitation she said, "I will, I really will!"

I paused. Then I said, in a deadpan voice, "So will you kill them both, if I ask?"

I didn't actually want that, but I was making a point. Looking at her face, she got it.

"No. I guess I wouldn't do that. But, short of physically harming anyone or myself too bad, I really mean that."

I don't know what I was expecting, but I guess I wasn't expecting complete honesty. At every turn she was being honest. She had kept things from me, but Jill just couldn't lie either with words or emotions.

"Here's my issue, you had another man touching you in bed, my wife. I think I might be able to go on, if I'd done the same thing as well, but-"

She interrupted before I could finish. "Yes, yes, yes! Of course! Of course we'll have a threesome with Susan!"

Again, a response for which I hadn't been prepared. I wasn't really sure I meant it at the time, but she grabbed it like a lifeline.

"Oh baby, I'm sure Susan will do it. She does threesomes all the time, and she owes me one; this is a no-brainer."

There it was. I suppose I could have said I didn't mean that. It was more than the issue of sex; it was also a certain degree of betrayal, but I let it go. My head was in a fucked up place. Part of me was wondering if maybe I was the one that hadn't been communicating enough. Yeah, I actually went there. I was still uncomfortable, but what I actually said was uncomplicated, and only a fraction of what I was thinking.

"I don't want you to go over to that house again."

"Whatever you want, I'll talk to her at work on Monday."

Monday I went to work, and so did she. I was distracted all day wondering about the call, wondering if I really wanted that. The only upside was, I must have looked pale, because I was asked repeatedly if I was well enough to have come back to work. Well, my cover story was holding up. Yay. I tried to focus, and did manage to brush it off and be somewhat productive, but couldn't wait to get home.

As soon as I did, I hugged her and we exchanged the "Hi baby." Then I asked her how her conversation went.

"They didn't like the idea."

Well. Damn. She didn't exactly surprise me, she also didn't try to soften the blow.

"Why not?"

"Paul doesn't want another man with his wife. He's not as understanding as -"

I exploded. I don't explode. "Not as understanding?! What the fuck do you think of me? When did you think I was okay with this?!"

"No, that's not what I meant. I don't know why I said that."

I was on a roll, "Welllll... I have a theory. You somehow thought I'd be fine with this, but Paul wouldn't, and you knew that before you did it."

"No! That's not what I meant. I said the worst fucking words I could have, I just meant you are flexible. Oh God, this is all coming out wrong. I fucked up, and I can't fix it like I thought. I don't want to lose you, I don't know how to fix this." She sobbed. Jill doesn't have crocodile tears. When she cries, she's feeling it. I've seen her do it when watching the Discovery Channel about a species going extinct or just a lost pet finding its way home.

I never doubted her that she'd never been unfaithful before. She didn't lie well, if she did, I wouldn't have noticed anything wrong. Oddly in that moment I just wanted to comfort her. I pulled her head against my chest, to her "warm fuzzy." Call me a sucker if you wish, but if you don't know your wife after decades of marriage, your marriage isn't like mine. I knew that emotion. She wasn't being dramatic for effect. I wanted to ease her pain, but I also was still dealing with some of my own.

As she sobbed softly into my shirt, I said "Okay, I want to get past this too."

She looked up at me tears streaming, but said with determination, "Anything."

I wiped the tears from her face, but there was resolve in my voice. "Stop saying 'anything' if you don't mean that. The only way I can handle this, is revenge on Paul and Susan. I want to destroy their marriage, like they almost destroyed ours. I want them to feel my pain."

The last thing I was expecting, was a look of fire in her eyes and her quiet response.

"Oh yes."

She looked up at me and her face had a glow. She wasn't sad now, she was angry. The quick transformation was a bit scary.

I just said, "Yes?"

"They seduced me; they lied to me. I'm not saying I'm not responsible, but they led me to believe it would be okay. I asked them to make my marriage fixed, and they didn't care. So, yes. I'll do any-" She paused. "They hurt our marriage, I want them to understand that. I want to do what it takes to make that happen."

Starting to sound like a broken record here, but yet again, I really didn't expect that. This was uncharted territory for me, so my expectations for this situation kept getting adjusted. I thought she'd protect her "lovers." After all, she'd picked them over me. I was clearly wrong, but where is the fucking manual for this?

I didn't actually immediately and completely accept that she was sincere and shared my anger (although we each had different reasons), but my perspective did change. I just petted her hair, "All right, we'll figure this out." We went to bed and held each other. Oddly, it was one of the most intimate hugs I'd ever had. We slept like our bodies were melded. I didn't want to let go of her, and she seemed to want to recede into me. My rage was for Susan and Paul only.

The next morning I was still full of fury. I wasn't sure if she still was. Hell, I now had doubts if she had really been last night, or if she was just placating me. I got up before she did, and extricated myself from our spoon position. She didn't wake up. Normally she woke up before me, unless she had trouble sleeping.

I went downstairs and just made breakfast. I made a good breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, coffee. Cooking helps me think. Making the coffee helps too. I grind my own beans. It not only tastes better, but the grinding is oddly satisfying. That morning it was even more so. I visualized a wood chipper while I heard the noises.

Jill came down, a look of relief in her eyes. "You weren't in bed, I was worried."

I served breakfast with minimal conversation, then we talked.

I went first. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

She was about to take a bite of eggs, then put the fork down. "I meant everything I said. Is there a particular part you mean?"

"I mean about punishing them."

"Oh, yes."

I took my own bite of eggs before answering. "I have a few requests... wait, I said that wrong. They are not requests, conditions."

"Tell me."

"You have to quit your job, and never speak to either one again. If they try to contact you, I don't want you to respond. If they text, I want to see it. If they leave a voicemail, I want to hear it. If they approach you in person, I want to know about it. You quit your job today. You don't show up to work."

"I do have some things in the office I'd like to get back, and I did promise two weeks notice."

I almost lost my shit right then, but I knew she had pictures of me, the kids, and other personal reminders there. I also knew I didn't want her leaving on bad terms. She was being practical, and normally, so am I.

I forced calmness. "Okay, work that out. Try to avoid Susan, but if you can't, I want to know the conversation."

She stood up, came to where I was sitting and kissed me. I was immobile at first, before realizing she 'got it.' I kissed her back. "I love you, but right now I'm also angry."

"I know. I also know I need you, I need to know you still want me."

"I can't believe that was ever in doubt. Jill, this has driven me crazy. If I didn't want you, it wouldn't have. Since I got an inkling of this whole thing, I was worried you no longer wanted me."

Jill smacked herself on her forehead. Then she smacked me on my forehead. "Yes I want you, and never stopped."

I reacted by just taking her. We left the uneaten breakfast on the table. What followed was sex we'd never had before. We did it right there in the kitchen, although that wasn't a first. We'd had sex in every room in the house, that wasn't the different part. What was, is that for the first time, I wasn't concerned in any way with her pleasure. I was rougher than I'd ever been, and I wasn't worried if she didn't get off. To be honest, at that moment I may have actually wanted her not to. A little.

Every step of the way, she encouraged me. Prior to "the incident," I'd have left it at that. I was raised by the saying, "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," but now, I really want to give details. I didn't feel like a gentleman then. So at this point, I'm fine with disclosing more than just the necessary facts.

I started by kissing her back hard. Normally I'd have waited for her to respond to my initiative, this time I was just doing what I wanted. I literally ripped her clothes off. I'd never actually torn fabric intentionally, but at that moment, I didn't really care about the cost of clothing. I just wanted her naked. Well, at least from the top to the waist. It's hard to tear off pants. Those, I just yanked down. There was no foreplay; I just wanted to get inside her. I was surprised when I rammed my cock into her. She was wet, even without any foreplay. Shit, had I been wasting my time with all the touchy-feely stuff?

"I've been bad. I need to be punished."

Bad? Needed to be punished? I'd never thought of her that way. And yet, that sort of talk just put me even more into a frenzy because that was also how I was feeling. I had her bent over a kitchen counter, and just started spanking her ass. There was no starting slow, my first slap left a nice red mark on her ass. She flinched, then just yelled, "More!"

More it was, trying to make each spank harder. In my head I heard "More!," like a mantra.

Her right side cheek was a mass of red at this point. I suppose I should have been smacking the left for purposes of symmetry, but I wasn't exactly trying to create art here.

I didn't know the line between cathartic and sick, but we certainly were dancing on it.

I repeatedly and angrily thrust my cock into her pussy over and over. It just seemed to get even wetter and the sounds of sex got more and more audible. I could swear that when I rammed it in, drops of musky goodness splattered on the floor. I pulled her long hair, raising her tits off the table, as I pummeled her like a Viking vacationing in England.

The entire weekend went like that. It was a sex-crazed two days we hadn't had in years. It continued to be aggressive sex, and she continued to encourage it. In my mind, it was a combination of punishment and reaffirming my territory. In hers, maybe it was penance, or hell, maybe it was hot and I'd been doing it wrong for years. Regardless, for both of us, it was connecting physically. We both had bruises, scratches and bite marks for a bit. My cock was also raw. We'd both fucked some skin off. We still kept fucking though. I had some tiny scabs for a week.

Monday rolled around. It was a shit day at work. I was checking my phone constantly, waiting for each update. Let's just say I was not the most productive boss or employee. Hell, if I'd been in charge of me, I'd have sent me home with a warning. Rank does indeed have its privileges, up to a point. The next two weeks I definitely behaved in a way I wouldn't have tolerated from anyone working for me.

Jill did quit her job. She got her stuff, and told me she had minimal contact with Susan. She showed me every text (as far as I knew), and shared every voicemail (as far as I knew). Not that I wasn't 99 percent sure, but once trust is broken, you doubt everything. That nagging one percent is a mind killer. After a while, messages and calls from Susan stopped. Paul never sent her a single message or call (as far as I knew).

Now came the hard part: getting Jill and me back on track, keeping our family on track. That part had to come first. It wasn't easy, but both of us were committed. We did get back to mostly where we were before in a matter of months. This included Jill finding and settling into a new job. Contact with Paul and Susan was non-existent, so were any conversations Jill and I had about them. Revenge took the longer part of a year.

While the plan for revenge was slow in coming together, Jill tried to find other ways to make it up to me and show me that she still understood this had been a big deal. We had gone back to normal, she could have just waited it out. She didn't though. She tried repeatedly to make it up. The problem I had was, I couldn't feel comfortable that any action on her part was sincere and not motivated by guilt, especially when it came to sex.

Jill did mention the elephant in the room, "I'll do any threesome you want, as many times as you want."

"Do you know anyone?"

"Well, no, but anyone you know I'll agree to."

"I have no idea even how to approach someone like that. You apparently don't either. We don't move in these circles, so how realistic is this?"

"I don't know, I'm just letting you know I would."

I was happy about the fact that no names came to her mind, and judge me if you will for believing her to be sincere, but I did. When I discovered what had happened, all I wanted was for it to be better. Part of that, was for her to regret it. I wanted to know she was still my wife, and that we were whole. After she got denied on her request for a mutual threesome, I'm not embarrassed to say it didn't take more than a few days until I believed that. Call me naive; you wouldn't be the first. Pretty sure I mentioned that earlier.

The cliche is, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." I'm not sure I completely agree, but revenge, when cold, protects you. It keeps you from making mistakes that hurt you. All the satisfaction, none of the stupid. On second thought, maybe that's exactly what it means.

While revenge waited, there was still the daily life with Jill. The kids weren't affected, for those of you wondering. Our conversations happened out of the way of little ears and little eyes. Our sex life certainly had gotten a spark immediately after that breakfast, but it settled quickly after that into what we'd always done before. Only it was less than complete. I knew it, Jill knew it. We couldn't just pretend nothing had happened and everything was okay. Jill continued to be the one with suggestions.

"Every fantasy you've had, every thing I've never done for you, just ask. I'll do that."

I realized she was trying to make it up to me, but I felt she had missed the point. I wanted anything we did sexually to be together. Not something she did without me, or something she did to please me that she didn't like. Her offer to do anything I wanted was not a fantasy I had.

My biggest fantasy was a threesome. It had been before I married Jill, and I'd never really had another one replace that. Now I was dealing with the reality she'd done it without me. She'd had a threesome with another woman and a man other than me. That was my fantasy. I never would have asked. She never would have asked, so it happened without me. We talked about it several times. Jill always let me know she was eager to try new things with me that she'd never done before, but I felt like she was offering a consolation prize with every suggestion.

"Jill, there isn't a sexual Band-Aid for this."

"Are you angry?"

"Yes."

"Treat me like a slut. Punish me."

"Gah!"

I grabbed my head and paced.

"Don't you want to punish your slut?"

"Ack! Stop using that word!"

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd like to try that."

"We did that already. Not using that word, but the act. It was hot, but it's not me. I mean it was nice to do that once, and maybe again from time to time, but it's not us. At least I hope not. Calling you a 'slut' doesn't do anything for me. I don't think of you that way, and saying it brings up dark thoughts of what I was thinking when I discovered your tryst with Paul and Susan. I don't want to go to that place again."

"Then just tell me what you want to do. Stop thinking if I'd like it. Just tell me what you want."

What I wanted was that damn threesome. Since that wasn't an immediate possibility, Jill seemed to be determined to try to make amends in some other way. I tried to get the threesome out of my head, and think of an experience I had never had that she could do. Something did come to mind, not really a big fantasy, but something that hadn't been on our shared menu before.

"Well, I've never had a blow job standing up ...."

It was hardly a directive, more like a suggestion. At the same time, I did want to see the response. The response was a grin followed by almost immediate action.

She pulled my pants down, and dropped to her knees. I had never gotten a blow job like that from her or from anyone else. I wasn't lying when I said that. I was hoping Jill hadn't done that either. It would be a small victory to have done something with Jill that was novel for both of us.

When Jill gives a blow job, she normally takes her time. Not this time, she immediately went down and dirty. We never talked dirty. Now she was using words I had never heard from her while we were having sex. "Give me that cum, I want all of it."

I was surprised, but aroused. She was taking this further than my simple request. I would have been happy with the blow job delivered on her knees. Part of me actually felt a bit uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if she was trying to please me, or was really into it. I'd never felt that way before. But man, my cock was in her mouth and she was on her knees. Her next words upped the ante.

"You want me to swallow, or come on my face?"

I do tend to overthink things too much. She'd always swallowed. I was wondering why she was thinking asking to swallow was a big deal. Of course the answer was, come on her face. I got there soon, but in my head I thought about it much longer. Let's say it was only one second, to be kind. "On your face you fucking ... lover." I couldn't say "slut." She didn't miss a beat, but I felt I disappointed her. That thought was momentary, because I did cum on her face.

I'd never done that before, and I watched the cum drip off her face, and watched her take her fingers to wipe it up, and put it in her mouth. It was erotic as hell. Maybe there were new things to discover for us after all. We'd never really had detailed conversations about sex before, but now we were suddenly openly talking about everything. I liked it. I didn't realize that was missing.

It was like that for a bit, I think we both over-compensated. It had been years since she'd woken me up with a blow job, but that became a bi-weekly thing. She insisted once on anal sex, even though in the past, I'd told her it was neither a turn on for me or as she told me, one for her. She was doing everything to prove herself to me, and part of that was letting me take complete control with her sexually. Part of it, I was surprised I enjoyed it. I had a license to say and do all the things I'd ever thought of. I also discovered that I ran out of things new that I liked pretty quickly.

There were a few things that were keepers though. I did like the dirty talk that resulted from this. I did like taking control more than I ever had before, just changing positions without discussion, flipping her over or making her go on top of me. No matter what I did, she never complained, and spanks and more happened now without prior discussion.

Other parts were too far for me, but we struck a balance. Our sex life did change somewhere in between the extremes. I never could call her a slut, or any other derogatory name. Our dialogue didn't always get dirtier, but it was now an option. We both agreed that in a certain mood, it was a turnon for both of us..