Charlie headed 'home', sure he was doing the right thing, but aware his head was full of the hedonistic life he had experienced over the last week.
He had escaped from a boring humdrum marriage after finding his wife in bed with a friend. He found a pub where he spent the next week living fantasies with the landlady, her sister and other guests. He had fulfilled virtually all his sexual fantasies in a matter of days; further more he had witnessed things he couldn't have imagined a week or so ago; - a man being tied up and anally raped with a vibrator, sisters making love, explicit pornographic photography. What had happened to his life?
But, he had enjoyed it. The sex, the company, the experimentation and above all the closeness and intimacy which he didn't believe could co-exist with a hedonistic life style.
As he turned the corner to his house, he wondered what the next instalment of his life would bring.
The house was, as expected, empty. There appeared to be no evidence that his wife had returned.
The note he had screwed up, telling him that she had gone to her mother and asking him to call her was still in the bin.
The fridge still had some beers in it. Looking at his watch, it was after 12 somewhere; he opened a beer and sat down. What should he do? He mentally started a 'to do note'.
Divorce wife
Sell house
Find somewhere else to live
Find a job
He laughed to himself with the last two; he had only this morning left somewhere that could have ticked those two. His thoughts flashed back to Mary. Why had he thought he should leave? She did say I could come back didn't she?
He went to the bin and retrieved the scrap of paper. Yes; it said his wife was at her Mums.
OK let's start the process.
Finding the phone number, he phoned his Mother--in--Law.
He never had the closest relationship with her; sufferance by both parties was the term that sprang to mind.
"Hi, can I speak to the slag that I believe is still my wife," he smiled
"Charlie, please there is no need for that; let me get my daughter."
"Hello?" a timid female voice appeared on the phone.
"Hi," Charlie was going to take charge. "Just thought you should be aware I will be seeing a solicitor this afternoon to start divorce proceedings and then I will be going to an estate agent to put the house on the market."
"But, Charlie."
"Listen to me."
"But Charlie, wont you let me say something?"
"Why?"
"I need to explain."
"What? Why you were shagging our friend, how you were shagging, when you were shagging?"
"No, but we need to talk."
"Ok, go ahead."
"Not over the phone. Can I come over?" she pleaded.
"Tomorrow, 7.00pm" he snarled, "but I am still going to the solicitor and estate agent."
The afternoon was spent as he had said. The solicitor saying it would be quick and relatively painless as there was no dispute as to what happened and there were no children under 18 to take into consideration.
Things with the estate agent were not so good with them preaching to the converted about credit squeezes and slumps and recessions. The bottom line being that he would probably have trouble selling the house.
On his way back home, he stopped off at the local DVD rental store and picked up two hard core porn movies for his evenings entertainment.
A couple of bottles of wine, a take away pizza to be delivered and he was set.
With nearly one bottle of wine finished, the pizza demolished and three quarters of the first film watched, Charlie was fighting to keep awake.
The film was boredom personified. When he couldn't watch these films he wanted to, now he could, he was amazed at the crassness and the boredom of seeing some guy screwing for 15 minutes and not cumming; or was it his male insecurity about staying power again. He cheered himself up thinking about the last week; there had been no complaints there.
He smiled to himself as the picture on the screen showed two women in a '69' and a guy screwing one from behind; done that and have the pictures to prove it he thought.
He wondered if he had a little play, would it make him feel better; but there was hardly any interest from the man below; he could hardly get an erection.
Fed up and tired, he turned everything off, leaving the second film unwatched. He went to bed, but his mind would not switch off and it was still going back to the last week and the sharing of a bed with someone that cared for him; physically and emotionally. The stirrings of an erection started. He stroked himself, his mind replaying the lustful moments he had enjoyed with Mary, Catherine, Sam and even Clive. Eventually he reached a less than satisfactory hardness, stroking himself to a weak and pathetic orgasm.
Falling asleep, he again questioned why he had come home.
Waking up late, he showered and dressed and started to clean the house from top to bottom. If he were lucky enough to get some interest, it might as well look OK.
Snacking during the day, he remembered his wife was due over at 7.00, grabbing a ready meal out of the freezer, he ate that, had a beer and cleared away before 6.45.
At exactly 7.00 the doorbell rang. Charlie opened the door; Jane was standing there, looking sheepish and unsure what to expect in a way of greeting from her husband.
He silently held the door open and gestured her in. He had decided he would be civil and not rant and rave. While there was still a bit of a voyeuristic part of him that wanted to know about Jane and Barry, he would rather she co-operated and made the divorce and house sale easier for both. And, to be fair, after the last week he could hardly take the moral high ground!
Jane gave him a bottle of wine: "I thought it would be more civil if we had a drink while we talked."
"Er, thanks, OK."
She sat down in the lounge, in a way that a first time visitor would. He meanwhile went to get glasses and a corkscrew. Opening the wine and filling the glasses, he handed one to her.
"I'm not sure what we should drink to, but thanks; it's a nice thought," he said.
"It's OK." She raised her glass in a 'silent cheers' sort of way.
"You wanted to talk," Charlie said.
"Yes," she paused before continuing, unable to look at Charlie.
"Look I know what I did was wrong. I am not looking for forgiveness."
"Just as well," he sarcastically interrupted.
"Please, let me finish Charlie."
"OK."
"As I was saying, I was wrong. We, er, I did something I shouldn't have. It hadn't been going on long, a few weeks, that's all; not that that makes any difference I know," she looked at him now. "Neither you nor I were happy, our sex life was pathetic, we both know that. Someone showed me affection, but I did wrong. It was and is unforgivable. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want our marriage to finish this way. We both knew it was close to finishing though didn't we?"
"Yes," he nodded truthfully.
Taking a sip of wine and a deep breath, she continued. "I understand your anger and I understand why you forced me to do to you what you did, and I understand about the divorce and all that. I won't contest it by the way, as I say I was wrong in what I did and I will never be able to forgive myself."
She took another sip.
"I haven't told the kids, have you?"
"No."
"What shall we do, how should we tell them? Do you think they'll care?" she smiled.
He too smiled, "probably not and probably won't be a surprise either."
"Should we tell them the reason?"
"Not if you don't want to," he said.
"Thanks, it will be easier," she replied.
"Does er, Barry's wife know?"
"No, I don't think so. We have not spoken since."
"Oh"
