Sandy and Fran

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.

Sandy jumped up off of the bed and hurried over to the full length mirror and stated at herself in consternation. "I don't believe this! I knew that he was really working my tits over and it hurt when he was biting and sucking my nipples, but I had no idea that he was doing this much damage. I told you last night that the pain actually felt good, excited me, but I never dreamed of being marked like this! Boy, he really sucked my nipples - look at them!"

"Think of what would have happened if I had been asleep last night and I had watched you take off your gown this morning! That would have been very hard to explain!"

"Explain! My god, there's no way on earth that this could be explained! You know, I think that my lips - of my mouth - are a bit swollen too. Damn, he really worked me over! It's going to be a long time before all those marks will fade away. Fortunately, I think that everything will be under my bra."

As she turned away from the mirror she presented a very erotic sight. Standing there completely nude, looking normal in almost in all respects except for two breasts that looked as if they had been in a fight - or an orgy! "You know, last night I could see some marks or hickeys, but the bruises developed over night. Are you going to show them to Frank tomorrow?"

"Oh my heavens, I hadn't even thought of seeing him tomorrow. How the hell am I going to do that? I won't even be able to look at him. I'll light up like a Christmas tree and everyone will know that something happened. Every time he looks at me he'll know that he's had me! He's seen me naked and had me! I'm a married woman who lay down on his car seat and let him have me! Gods, what am I going to do?" She truly was panicked as the thought of a humiliating encounter with her...what? Lover hardly seemed to apply. Seducer? Maybe. In any case, it was a full five minutes before she calmed down - and then I laughed at her, which didn't help.

"I think that you are more frightened and upset about seeing the man who screwed you than you were about telling me! You're more concerned about what he'll think or say than you are about what you did. I have to wonder what's he's thinking - he drove an innocent married woman home, got her in his car and seduced her into adultery! Maybe he's preening now, proud of his prowess or maybe he's watching the door half expecting an irate, shotgun bearing husband searching for him! Or, maybe, he's sitting there wondering how he'll face her tomorrow morning! He may be even wondering if he got you pregnant. What about that? Is it likely?"

"Oh, you, quit laughing at me! You may be right that he is worried too, but I know damn well that I'm going to blush like a fire engine when I see him. No, I'm not too concerned about being pregnant - otherwise I would really be in a tizzy! I was extremely worried last night when I ran in to take a douche, but, when I calmed down, I realized that I was pretty safe. I should start my period Tuesday or Wednesday and, for the first time ever, I believe, I'll look forward to it. If this was in the middle of the month I would be petrified!" Then after a pause, she got a funny expression on her face and added, "I can't believe this! Here we are discussing whether I will be embarrassed when I see a man who fucked me and wondering if he got me pregnant! This is unreal."

Fortunately, she had calmed down and was able to see the humor in the situation and, even, laugh at herself. That restored her ardor somewhat and we were able to return to the sexual activities interrupted by the viewing of her multi-colored breasts.

It was a bizarre situation for both of us. That afternoon, I attempted to grade bluebooks and read term papers, but I found myself staring blankly at the pages. No matter what I tried to concentrate on, the vision of Sandy lying naked on that car seat kept getting in the way. The thought of her erupting in orgasm as another man fucked her quickly eroded my ability to focus. With all of this one thing came through - thank god that I wasn't jealous. I realized the hell a jealous man would be going through if his wife had made the same confession.

Not surprisingly, Sandy admitted that she had the same problem of finding to concentrate on anything other than last night. No matter what she was doing, the same thoughts and mental pictures kept running through her mind making her, like me, unable to concentrate on mundane things. There was still guilt there - sin, infidelity, immorality, adultery - that my acceptance of her moral lapse didn't wipe away. Oddly enough, as she admitted, one thing that still plagued her was the relatively insignificant fact that he had seen her naked! That violation of her modesty really upset her and neither she nor I really knew why, particularly considering the sexual acts involved.

Whatever the reason, that feeling contributed to what came to dominate her thinking by evening - how was she going to face Frank tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM when the teaching assistants met to proctor the Spanish final exam. By bedtime it was all she could think of, even considering being too sick to go in. I convinced her that that was not reasonable, but I don't remember any time in which I saw her so nervous and beside herself. Somehow the actual events in the car came to be less crucial and worrying than the potential embarrassment from meeting the man who had screwed her!

However, by Monday morning she had become resigned to the inevitable and, as she said, "I just want to get it over with. Thank heavens the semester is over with and I won't have to face him over the seminar table each week! I'll just have to avoid him as much as possible today and have the whole Christmas season before classes start again. Damn, I don't know I got into this mess!"

I, of course, could have explained how she "got into this mess," but, obviously, she knew every minute detail full well and was just ranting. In fact, I said as little as possible as she dressed for the ordeal that was before her. Her clothing was very different from what she had worn Saturday night since this was work day: she selected a teacher-type outfit, pantyhose under a moderate length skirt and a heavy knit sweater of soft wool. The only difference from a regular class day outfit was that she omitted her bra. She had discovered to her dismay that her breasts were still a bit tender from the rough treatment - not really sore, just a little sensitive. Needless to say, they were still covered with hickeys and bruise marks, leading me to, kiddingly, observe, "Frank said that you have beautiful tits. You should show him how he decorated them!"

As might be expected, she was not in the mood for humor and my comment was not received well. "Damn it, he's never going to see these tits again! Don't even kid about that! I'm going to wear a cast iron bra to the next party and not go near him. I can't believe he did all of this to my tits! If those girls who are enamored by him could know what he did to me they might not be so interested." She went on like that, mumbling and complaining the whole time she was dressing and preparing for the humiliating confrontation she was expecting, pouring out comments like, "I'll bet he'll smirk when we meet, telling me by his look that "I've had you. I know what's under your clothes and I've fucked you! Gods, I wonder if he'll tell anybody. They love to gossip and it would spread everywhere." Her exclamations became harsher and harsher and less and less rational as she prepared to leave.

Obviously, her fear of embarrassment fueled these wild statements, but I really was surprised by the uncharacteristic vitriol. I knew that she was really upset about the whole situation - shocked by his, and her own, behavior and feeling somewhat degraded, yet being honest enough to recognize that it still aroused her sexually. Here was a man that she had liked and, obviously appealed to her, and, minute by minute, was being transformed into a conscienceless beast. Maybe it was some form of prescience or precognition, but the Hamlet statement, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much" came into my mind.

In any case, in at least figurative "fear and trembling," she left the house to meet her doom. I was through with classes so I devoted myself to the reading that I hadn't been able to concentrate on yesterday. As said before, her exam monitoring began at 10:00 and I couldn't help but wonder how awful it had been for her, but I lost track of time as I worked and I was somewhat surprised when I looked up and realized that it was almost 12:30. I really thought that her concerns were considerably overblown and that while she would suffer some embarrassment and blushing as she met Frank, those things would come from herself, not anything he did. Still, I was a bit on edge waiting for her to come home.

Listening for the garage door to go up, I actually was startled when the phone rang. Most startling, however, was to hear Sandy's cheerful voice say, "Hi, Honey, we're going down to the café to have some lunch. We decided to just stay together this afternoon and get all the exam grading done at one time so we'll all be finished. We're going to break the exam up and each one of us do certain pages. It's all short answer so it should go fast."

Needless to say, I was somewhat flummoxed not only by her rapid fire recitation of their plans but also the complete turnaround in her humor. Leaving home she was depressed and fearful, but, now, she sounded light-hearted and happy. When she finally finished her almost hyper recitation, I asked, tentatively, "How did everything go?"

Voices in the background told me that she was in the grad assistant's office so I suspected that she couldn't talk about personal things, a thought that was confirmed as she replied, "Everything went fine, dear. No problem of any kind. It was boring proctoring the exam but everything went well. I've got to go but we'll talk about it when I get home. Bye, Honey. Love you!" Her emphasis on "everything" and "any kind" confirmed what I had assumed from her cheerful voice - her fears of an excruciating meeting with Frank had been all in her mind. I certainly was curious about how the meeting with him went and I waited eagerly for her return home to get the details.

She finally pulled into the garage about 4:30 and came in, obviously tired but, at the same time, more "alive" than when she had left seven hours before. "Wow, I'm bushed! I don't want to see any verbs conjugated for a month. But it's done! I still have to get my grades figured, but the real work is over. I can relax!"

"Ok, get to the real issue. You left here this morning as if you were going to an execution. You call me and everything is fine - what the hell happened?"

She did have the decency to be a bit embarrassed as she admitted, "Ok, I over reacted. I walked into the office and the others, including Frank, were already there. It was a complete non-event. Everyone looked up and said, 'Hi, Sandy,' and went on with their conversation. Frank smiled and waved as he always does without any sign that anything had happened between us. Everything was so ordinary that I was actually let down, a bit deflated. Here I had come in expecting something big...I don't know what! I didn't want any drama, anything like flushing mightily, a knowing smile from Frank that would cause people to wonder...or anything. Yet I wasn't prepared for nothing! Darn it, the man had fucked me in the car Saturday night and he didn't even react to me!

"So, we each picked up a pile of exams, went into that great lecture hall, with difficulty got everyone into alternate seating, and got the exam underway. Gods, that's boring, walking up and down the aisles, answering a few questions but mostly making sure there was no cheating. Two hours of that! It's an arena type room so the rows are on different levels and I was standing at the top behind the seats when Frank came up to me and quietly said, 'I'm really sorry about Saturday, Sandy. I got carried away and went much further than I should have. I've been worried that you got in trouble when you went in."

"I couldn't believe it! Here I had spent all day yesterday and this morning in a state of panic, picturing him gloating over having me, and here he was, apologizing and saying that he was worried about me having problems with you when I went in! I felt absolutely stupid - and relieved. Fortunately, I was able to avoid any noticeable reaction and, apparently, kept my eye roaming over the students. However, I felt so good, so relieved! In any case, after a moment or two to get my reactions in hand, I managed to half-whisper, "We both got carried away and we did something we shouldn't have. No, I didn't have any problem. Mack was asleep and I was able to clean up and get to bed without waking him." I don't know how I could lie like that without hesitation, but I'm glad I did.

At that point, before he could reply or say anything further, a girl raised her hand and I had to go and answer her question. I was glad because I needed time to put my mental house in order. There was never a time the rest of the exam in which our paths ended up converged in a somewhat private spot.

"As you can imagine, my entire day changed in those few seconds. It's funny, nothing physical changed - we still had had sex, I hate to say it, but I was still an adulteress - but I just felt lighter, my mind clearer and the world was brighter. In any case, when the exam was over we all decided to do the grading, I called you figuring that you would get the message and be relieved. We had lunch, went back and graded the exams but there never any time that Frank and I were alone. Finally, it was finished; I recorded the exam results of my classes so I can figure their final grades. We all had a collective sigh of relief and headed for our cars. I was eager to get home and tell you my good news, but just as I got to my car, I heard Frank call from behind me, 'Hey, Sandy, wait a minute. I have something for you.'