My times with Steph were never expected. It was like she used me as her own personal doll, dressing me up to suit whatever she wanted. And somehow, as I realized this use was suiting her more than me, I opened a new awareness of my own wish to be used in the myriad of creative ways she discovered.
After one surprising day of being immobile, bound completely and lying between her thighs, I asked her about it.
"Steph, what gives you these ideas?" I asked, while rubbing the circulation back into my arms.
Coiling rope, as casually as it was something she did daily, she paused for thought. "I suppose it's a mixture of fantasy and what I talk about with Dan."
I stopped, frozen with the shock. "Dan? You mean you talk to your husband about all this?"
Steph laughed. "Of course. He thinks it's great. The funny thing is, our sex life is even better now that I get all of this out with you." She looked into my expression, hers becoming questioning. "You mean, you don't?"
"Steph, Mark would lose it. I don't think he would be okay with this at all. I can't tell him, he'd go absolutely crazy!" I gave a short laugh. "I mean, he's just... Mark. He's not into anything..." I searched for the right words to explain. "He doesn't like anything... different."
"Oh, Dee." Steph's voice was soft and resigned. "You mean all this time, he hasn't known anything about us? We've been having an affair? Cheating?"
My brain very nearly shut down. I hadn't thought of it that way. In the back of my mind, I knew the truth: the title she put on it was that truth. Cheating.
"Steph, I didn't- that's not what I meant. I just- We were just having fun. It can't be that bad, right?"
"Dee, you have to tell him the truth. Trust him to make the choice he needs to make." Steph handed me my clothing with a finality that had me going numb. I dressed and left with no other words spoken between us.
I was lucky that night was a night out for Mark. He and a few friends, Dan included, would be out celebrating a birthday, leaving me home alone with the kids. After getting them to bed, I sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the wood grain while my mind worked overtime.