As I came up my driveway from my gym, I glanced at my office window and saw that the light was on. I dropped my coat on a chair, and walked up, unbuttoning my shirt as I went. She was at my desk, looking at the computer screen.
"Hi" I said, "what's up?"
She turned to face me, "when did you start writing this stuff?"
"What?" I said, then as I got closer to the screen I recognized the document she was reading. "Uh huh, oh, it's just fun, a little thing I've been doing. It's not serious; it's harmless fun."
"Writing pornography, writing stories about us, how is that harmless? Who reads this?"
"No one, well it's anonymous, it's a website I belong to. I use a different name and all. It's nothing."
"Nothing?, this is our life here, this woman Is me I'm sure of it."
Now I began to get mad. "Oh really, she's sucking her husband's cock, just how is that you? Where and how could that be you?"
"Very funny, I recognize these situations, these vacations. Don't be an idiot. It's us."
"Look, it's nothing I'm not some pervert, it's a great website, there are tens of thousands of contributors, tens of thousands. You wouldn't believe there are people of every description who do this, I swear you wouldn't believe it. It's nothing."
She wouldn't move away from my desk. I had been working on a story last night, and after saving the work, I had only minimized the screen instead of saving it and closing the folder. With the password protect on my MS Word, she'd never have been able to open the document. In a minimized state though, the document was still open.. She had gone to the computer to send an e-mail to her sister about our visit there tomorrow.
As she sat there, I noticed her hair was still wet from a shower. She was in a t-shirt and panties with a towel around her head. She smelled fresh like newly cut flowers.
"I don't know why do you have to have such interests, you have children, you're a grown up. Who does these kinds of things in these stories? This part about having sex with a partners wife while in Vegas, did you do that, is that real? Is this some admission of guilt?"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down. This story is made up. Ok, Ok, some stories are about us, and I embellished them to make them spicier than our, rather my real life, but this one here is total fiction. A fantasy. Look, you can't read a private document and take it this way; it's not truth."
She turned to the screen. "Show me one about us. A real one the you embellished."