The following morning was traumatic, but not for the reasons one might expect. I woke up about 9:30, actually a bit early considering that it was Sunday morning and I hadn't gone to sleep until almost 4:00 AM. I looked over at Sandy who was faced away from me and who still seemed to be asleep. Last night's events were sharp in my mind and I felt a sudden arousal but also a real demand to get to the bathroom. When I returned, my cock was still half-hard as I anticipated the pleasant task of waking my wife and pick up where we had left off last night. However, that enjoyable thought was quickly wiped form my brain as I saw Sandy lying on the back, sobbing profusely.
"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do all that. Please forgive me!"
My first reaction was to ask myself, "What on earth does she mean?" since everything had been settled thoroughly before we went to bed. Of course, I immediately realized that things had come unraveled overnight. I hurried to the bed and embraced her, saying, "Come on, sweetheart, there's nothing to forgive! I'm not angry! You didn't do anything wrong! Now quit crying and tell me why you're so upset."
"You know why - I ... I was unfaithful last night! Frank Jackson screwed me and...and I let him! I committed adultery! Oh, what am I going to do? You have to be angry and disappointed even if you say you're not. I love you and I can't believe that I did something so cruel to you. How can you live with me?"
It was obvious that the demons of the night had crept into her mind, wiping away the reassuring mutual enjoyment from last night. It's amazing how rational beliefs and observations can be replaced by fear and anxiety as one is besieged by those demons. As she admitted later, unlike me, she had not fallen asleep and, instead had lain there for over an hour, the pleasure gone as she gave way to an awake nightmare. All her "rights and wrongs" inculcated into her by her up-bringing, her feeling of betraying me, a graphic picture of herself sprawled naked and open on the car seat, her body being used by another man - thoughts and images she could not reconcile with her own self-portrait. Even more, her guilt was compounded by her recognition that it all had wildly excited her. She couldn't even hide behind the excuse that she was an innocent bystander. Thus in the gloom of the night and her mind, she just knew that she had ruined things between us.
We've all had those nights where, in our minds, nothing seems right, the future is bleak and we can't see the way out of our problems. Sometimes it is very hard to put the night fears away when day comes and that was Sandy's situation. She was still convinced that her sin was just too big to for me to overcome, putting our marriage at risk.
Actually, I guess that, in a way, her fears were not completely irrational. If asked the day before how I would react to my wife being fucked by another man, I don't know just how I would have answered. In the abstract, I think my reply would have been quite negative. Faced with the reality, however, my response, as described before, was unbelievably positive. I confess that when reading about men who accepted their wives' adultery, I had assumed that the stories were fiction, but I couldn't deny that I was tremendously aroused
I hugged and cajoled Sandy, reaffirming, over and over, my lack of concern and, even, my approval of her sexual actions of last night. I finally convinced her that my lack of jealousy in no way was a lack of love for her. As I told her, I could be very jealous if her actions were a sign that her feelings for me had weakened or that somehow I wasn't enough for her in some way, particularly sexual. If, in other words, her extramarital sex was in some way a rejection of me I would be very upset and hurt. This certainly was not the case. If she had hidden it and done things behind my back, I would be very angry. Again, this was not the case.
I didn't go into it because it is so hard to explain, but somehow her experience last night had made her more attractive, more interesting and not only sexually. She was different form the woman I had been with all those years and I saw her with different eyes. If your wife does something totally out of character - climbs a mountain, sky dives, has a book published, stars in a play, commits adultery - she is different. She's the same woman you married and have slept with for years but you see her in a whole new light. You can be jealous of her new experiences and the person or people she does them with. You can feel diminished and resent that she experienced new things without you. Or you can embrace and value the new "her" and vicariously enjoy those experiences with her.
I certainly was taking the latter course but, for some reason I found it more difficult to tell her that the whole thing turned me on. Somehow it was still difficult to frankly admit verbally that having another man fuck her excited me. I had a hard time accepting it, myself. However, my non-verbal communication was quite clear as my hard cock proved. Fortunately, my obvious arousal helped convince Sandy that her nightmarish fears were wrong and I wasn't just pretending not to be upset. The clear sign that her normal spirit had returned was when she looked up at me while stroking my erection and said, with a shy and impish smile, "I think that you like knowing and another man's cock was in me, don't you?" I didn't reply, but the truth was obvious.
That, of course, was a sign that we could return to the real topic - her illicit sexual activities. As we talked, my embracing of her turned into caressing and fondling, but as I lightly pinched her nipple, she pulled back with a wince, saying, "Ouch! Ooh, I'm sore! I think that Frank must have squeezed them too hard."
"Here, take your gown off and look at you." As she raised up and pulled the gown over her head, revealing her breasts, I broke out with, "Good god, look at you! No wonder they're sore!" It was an unbelievable sight. There were more marks than there was clear skin. There were hickeys covering both mounds. Bruises, actually finger marks, turned much of the flesh purple. Both nipples still looked swollen and red rather than their normal pink color. If ever a pair of breasts revealed a night of wild passion, these did.