Chapter One
I woke up earlier than she did, as I always do, and lay there, thinking, "processing" I think is the buzzword, about what had happened.
Arlene is my college sweetheart. We married young, I was 22 and she was 20 when we found out she was pregnant. Our son, David, was born when she had just turned 21.
She had always been curvy. What they used to call buxom. But when David was born she truly blossomed. Her breasts, a D cup before, grew to FF size when she was nursing and they never went away. She kept what she always called the "baby fat" too, in spite of almost constant diets of one kind or another.
When David went to college we were still young, I had just hit 40 and she was 38.
And so we started fresh, dating.
We were doing those things we had missed since we were young parents, both working and both struggling to keep our heads above water.
We would go to the Comedy Club downtown on Thursday nights and then a couple of the clubs we knew on the weekend. We had money now, even with David in college.
I had done well in my profession, running a planning agency now. And Arlene had sold a silly little recipe-finding app that had made us, if not actually "wealthy," very comfortable.
So we could indulge.
And indulge we did.
I gradually talked her into wearing things that put her on display. Shorter skirts. High heels. Leaving her bra at home. Things like that.
As it happened, the places where we frequented were populated by, well, let's say a younger crowd.
Okay, the places we found ourselves enjoying were the places that 20-somethings hung out.
You know, the college crowd and the very young professionals.
And we fit in, I thought.
We usually brought the pot and when we had a party we collected keys and called uber or provided a place to crash.
And we flirted. I won't deny that I found it interesting when a cute college sophomore would come on to me and it flattered me that a 20-something handsome young man found my wife interesting. But it was always flirting, nothing more.
But then, last night, I had walked into the kitchen of the house where the party was for a beer and found my wife with a friend's tongue in her mouth.
And she seemed to be enjoying it.
Which led to last night.
And a dramatic change in our relationship.
I watched her sleep and enjoyed the way her eyes fluttered open.
She smiled and then I could see the memory flood back.
"Oh God," she said, touching her face and feeling the crusty remains of semen and snot.
"Oh God," she repeated and started to roll out of bed.
I caught her and held her, waiting until she turned back to face me.
"Go pee if you need to," I said, my fingertips touching her face where she had, "but don't you dare wash your face."
She looked at me for a long moment and then rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom.
As always, I enjoyed watching her walk away and this morning I found the small bruises on her ass intriguing.
I went into the bathroom too, kissing her as she peed and then I peed as well.
"Go ahead and brush your teeth," I said and when I was done I did too.
