Adultery Presents A Moral Dilemma

I never thought I would be having a conversation like this with my husband of 15 years. "Honey, we need to talk," I said as I beckoned him to sit opposite me at our kitchen table late on a Saturday afternoon.

"Sure. What's up?" He sounded cheery as he sat opposite me but he had a bit of that deer in the headlights look husbands get when their spouse uses those words.

I was sympathetic but the knot in my gut was certainly worse than any concern I thought he might have. I had been delaying this conversation for weeks, telling myself repeatedly that I could do it later or maybe things would change and it wouldn't matter. But things weren't changing and I had after much agonizing decided we had to talk. Resisting the temptation to stall around, I came right out with it:

"Charlie, I'm having an affair. It's been going on for six months now."

I didn't know quite what to expect but I was deeply concerned that his reaction would be violent. Not physically violent. Charlie's not that way. But mad, outraged, emotionally hurt, a combination of all three. That was the outcome I feared. And of course that was a pretty reasonable expectation. We had each sworn to be true only to the other when we married and as far as I knew we had both kept that vow, up until my affair began six months ago. Fury was a pretty common reaction on learning that a trusted spouse was cheating.

So why was I telling him? Good question. I had no reason to believe that he knew or that anyone was about to tell him. There was guilt on my part, but honestly the guilt was part of the kick I got out of having the affair, along with the excitement and risk of getting caught by my spouse or my lover's spouse or someone else who would tell one of them about us.

It wasn't exactly my guilt that was driving my marital suicide, as I thought of it. I could deal with the guilt, but I couldn't get past the belief that Charlie was just too nice a guy to have a cheating wife. I know the distinction between being able to enjoy the excitement of my own guilt and to simultaneously feel sorry for Charlie may not make a great deal of sense, but that was it. Charlie was just too nice a guy to have a wife who was cheating... or I thought he was. But I had stalled for a long time because I really was having a good time.

Charlie's reaction was not what all what I feared. He just kind of blinked and stared at me with his mouth hanging open like a wide mouthed bass. When he eventually spoke he simply said:

"What?"

Too late now. I'd started the train down the tracks and I was going to have to ride it out past the curve at the bottom of the hill or crash and burn. "I'm having an affair," I repeated. "It started about six months ago and I've been hiding it from you but I can't keep it up."

"The affair?"

"No. I meant the hiding. But we need to talk about the affair also."

"Is this the first time?" he asked.

"Yes," I responded. Why did he ask that. Did he think I was a slut who had lots of affairs?

He nodded in response and sat continuing to think. At least he had his mouth closed now.

"Who?" he asked.

"You don't know him. His name is Rod Breckenridge. I met him at our church."

"Church? You met your lover at our church?"

"Yes." How would he know who I meet at church. He never attends.

"So are you telling me because you are going to stop? Or is this affair something you want to continue?" He wasn't near as mad as I had feared.

"I don't know." I honestly didn't know. I was certainly enjoying the affair and wanted to continue it, but I just couldn't keep lying to Charlie.

He sighed. "I understand. Ending an affair is hard."

Wait I thought. How does he know that?

We sat staring at each other for a long while. "I think I need a drink," Charlie said.

"Me too."

Charlie got up and poured a stiff shot of Scotch for each of us, setting the nearly full bottle on the table along with our drinks. "We may need more than one drink," he said.

I didn't know how to take that. "I thought you would be more upset?" I said to him, taking a pull on my drink during the long silence that followed.

Setting his glass down after tossing down half the shot he had poured himself he said, "Well, I guess I should be. But I can't." He took another drink, finishing the glass. "I'll explain," he said as he refilled his glass and mine too. After another drink and a long thoughtful silence he said, "Karen, I can't because I am having an affair too. I have been for over a year. That's why I know ending an affair is hard."

My response was predictable:

"What?"

"I'm also having an affair so I can't be really mad at you."

"More whiskey," was my response. After he refilled my glass I said, "Yes I heard that part about your not being mad, but... does that mean I shouldn't be mad at you for having an affair?"

"Not necessarily, but it does complicate things doesn't it?" He held up his glass in a toast. I raised my glass and said, for no good reason at all, "Here's to complexity."

He laughed and tossed down his whiskey while I did the same. I was beginning to feel the alcohol now. And the panicky fear was gone. I had screwed up my courage and admitted my affair and nothing bad had happened... except learning that my husband was also having an affair. I hadn't expected that.

Now I was like Charlie. Just staring, but without the open mouth. Finally I asked, "Who? Is it anyone I know?" I didn't like the idea that he might be fucking one of my supposed friends.

"No. Her name is Melinda Carthage. I met her at work. She works for a computer consultant we use."

"Is she married?"

"Yes, but her husband doesn't know about us."

"So is Rod. And his wife doesn't know either."

"Oh."

"You're right," I said. "This is complicated." I took another drink of whiskey. "I suppose we should both just break our affairs off."

"Yes... we should. But It's hard to do. I've tried."

"What happened? I mean when you tried."

"Melinda and I weren't very good at abstaining. We agreed we wouldn't do it anymore. We both felt it was wrong, but the next time we had to work late on a problem with our computer system we wound up fucking in my office. That seemed kind of risky so we went back to Thursday afternoons at her motel. She lives in another town and travels here when she is working for us which is almost every week."

"That's convenient. No husband to run into around town."

"Actually it's more complicated than you think. He works for the same consulting company and turns up at our offices regularly. It makes scheduling our trysts tougher than you would think."

"Oh. Rod and his wife live here and they both have regular jobs so their schedules are predictable if not necessarily convenient for our purposes." I noticed we had put a serious dent in the contents of the whiskey bottle.

"What about you?" he asked. "Have you tried to quit."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." I shook my head. "I guess it's too much fun." I was definitely drunk now. Who would tell their spouse they couldn't quit having an affair because it was too much fun?

He looked at me and laughed. "Yeah it is, isn't it." He must also have been drunk by now to say that I thought.

"God we are a degenerate pair aren't we?" I responded.

"Not really. Lots of people have affairs. Degenerate is too strong a word."

"Is 'horny' the word you have in mind?" I asked with a laugh

He laughed. "Yeah, the sex part is good. But there is more to it than that. It's exciting. There is all that sneaking around and hiding it from people and worrying about getting caught."

I smiled. "Yeah that part is fun isn't it. And the sex is good too."

"Yeah the sex is good too."

"You're drunk Charlie. You already told me the sex is good."

"Oh yeah I did, didn't I. I like sex."

Now I laughed hard. "I've noticed Charlie. You left your girlfriend in college for me because she wasn't good at it and I was."

"You still are," he said. He refilled the whiskey glasses.

I shrugged. "What can I say? I like sex." Even with competing affairs, Charlie and I still had a consistent and satisfactory sex life. Apparently though we just both needed 'a little something on the side.'

"So why are we both screwing around with someone else? The sex between us is still great," he asked.

"Yeah it is." I took another drink, which I surely didn't need. "But here's the thing Charlie. The affair is good too. It's sex we aren't supposed to be having. Sex we can't get caught at. Sex with somebody different. It's sex with risk that's not there with you. Is that bad?"

He smiled. "Probably," he responded. "Or at least most people would say so. but the thing is that my relationship with Melinda works just the same for me. It's exciting because it's wrong."

Are her tits bigger than mine?" I asked, losing the thread of the discussion.

"No they're tiny." He paused for a moment. "But her ass is beautiful. Just perfect to hang on to when I..."

"Don't get graphic Charlie."

"Oh. Yeah." He downed another shot of whiskey.

"Is his dick big? Bigger than mine?"

"Depends on how you measure it," I said. "Yours is longer... but his is bigger around. When he fucks me it stretches me out until..."

"I thought you didn't want to get graphic," he interrupted.

"Oh yeah. It must be the whiskey." I laughed. "I like graphic although it's normally us being graphic about each other."

"Or people we have made up."

"Oh yeah them too."

"You do have a dirty mind," he said. "Yup. You surely do. It's one of your better features... in addition to your tits, and your ass, and your legs, and your pussy."

"I thought you liked her ass. Melinda's ass."

"I do. But I like yours too. You both have a great ass and I love to be behind either one of those asses fucking it. Maybe giving the ass a good slap or two while we fuck."

"You're getting graphic again Charlie."

"I thought that was okay now since you started telling me how much his cock stretches your cunt out."

"Oh yeah, I did, didn't I."

"Does Melinda have a dirty mind?" I asked him.

"Very."

"So does Rod," I responded with a giggle. "He likes to tell me about how he has sex with his wife. He's very graphic about it. They do just terrible things with each other."

"Do they have affairs with other people, I mean beyond you and Rod?" he asked.

"He says they don't." I shrugged. "Who knows. I didn't know about you. How can I know about Rod."

"Good point, Charlie responded "But this isn't one of those affairs where your lover tells you that he needs to fuck you because his wife doesn't give him what he needs?"

"Not at all. What about Melinda? Does she tell you she isn't getting enough from her husband?"

"Nope. She's just like your lover. She tells me all the details of her sex life at home and it sounds like a great sex life. It's what we do when we are waiting for me to recover. No affairs though, except with me. She says her husband has a bigger dick than mine. I..."

"Does that bother you?" I interrupted.

"Nope. You and she both seemed very satisfied with my dick. I don't need to have the biggest dick in the world; just one that's big enough to satisfy the women I am fucking regularly.

He hiccupped and I laughed at him. "That's deep philosophy Charlie."

"Well it's Scotch based philosophy," he responded. "It sounds good if you are drunk enough."

"It sounds like Melinda and Rod are both having their affairs with us for the same reason we are with them, just for the fun of cheating."

"Yup..." he hiccupped, again interrupting himself. "Yup. I think you're right about that."

"But you know," he said, moving to change the subject, just a bit. "You know Karen, I know I told you Melinda has a great ass, but don't get me wrong. I think you have a great ass too and right now..." he hiccupped again... "right now what I want to do is fuck that really great ass of yours. This conversation is making me horny and I want to take my good hard dick and slide it into that nice warm, wet, cunt of yours while I hang onto that really nice ass of yours. What do you think of that idea Karen?"

I smiled and said, "Charlie that's the best thinking I've heard since this conversation started. We can figure out what to do about our affairs in the morning. Right now I want to fuck you. I want to feel that big hard cock of yours jammed it into my cunt. I want to feel you filling my cunt with your hot spunk. I... "

"Oh now you are getting very graphic," he said as he rose from the table. "Let's go to bed."

"Bed?" I said. I stood up (only a little wobbly from the whiskey) and pushed my shorts and panties down off my legs. I followed up with the rest of my clothes and leaned over the table sticking my naked ass out. "We don't need to go to bed. Just get that big hard dick of yours out and fuck me. You said you liked to fuck me from behind. Now do it." I wiggled my ass at him in invitation. God I'm drunk, I thought.

He lined himself up behind me with a firm grip on both sides of my naked ass. I wasn't sure if that was part of fucking or it was to keep himself from falling down. It didn't matter. I could feel his big hard dick probing at the opening to my cunt. I licked my hand reached back and grabbed that cock I wanted so bad. I slid my hand back and forth on it to lube it up a bit and then I lined up just right and pushed back hard just as Charlie did the same thing slamming his cock deep into me.

"Oh fuck," I screamed.

He slapped my ass, almost falling over when he let go of my ass to do it. "Is this what you wanted you slut. My big hard cock buried deep in that nasty cunt of yours."

"Oh my fucking god yes," I said. "It feels so fucking good. But now fuck me with it don't just stand there talking dirty to me." We often talked dirty to each other stretching out our intercourse, but now all I wanted was for him to start pounding me with that stiff hard cock of his.

He took my word for it and began fuck me ferociously using his legs to drive each thrust as deep in me as he could. The table was rocking and bouncing and I was afraid the whiskey bottle was going to fall. I reached out to grab it and then thought, "Fuck it. It's almost empty anyhow." Pulling my hand back I slid it beneath me and began diddling my clit while Charlie continued to pound me groaning on each thrust.

I knew I wasn't going to last long. I could feel an orgasm about to blow me away and I was too drunk to do anything to delay it. Charlie was in the same condition. All he wanted to do was to finish fucking me and to fill my cunt with his cream. When my orgasm hit, I screamed and pushed back as hard as I could. Charlie came at the same time bellowing like a bull. I could feel his prick emptying shot after shot of cum into the bottom of my cunt.

There was no 'after play.' We didn't kiss. We didn't snuggle or even hug. We didn't even talk beyond something mumbled along the lines of "Oh shit that was good," followed by "Fucking right," or some other such romantic exchange. Leaving our clothes right where they were, strewn about the kitchen, and the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the table, we staggered off to bed.

We slept in until nearly noon the next day. Both of us had nasty hangovers. We sat looking at each other across the kitchen table, the same table he had fucked me so ferociously on the night before. The whiskey bottle was still on the table, but it was nearly empty.

"I can't believe we drank that much whiskey," I said.

"My head is telling me we did."

"Yup. Me too."

"We didn't solve our problem last night did we."

"Our problem?" he asked.

"What to do about our affairs."

"Oh yeah that problem." He put his head in his hands and groaned, mostly from the hangover I thought. "I don't have a clue what we should do," he said.

"Should we get a divorce?"

His head popped up and for the first time since he had gotten out of bed he spoke clearly. "Why the fuck would we do that?"

"Because that's what married people do when they have an affair," I responded. "They yell and scream at each other and get a divorce."

"Let me tell you what's wrong with that idea. There are at least five, no seven, major things wrong with it and he began ticking them off on his fingers:

First, it would cost us a fortune in lawyers' fees;

Second, dividing our assets would be painful and expensive. We would have to sell this house. I like this house. You like this house;

Third, there are lots of tax advantages to staying married that we would have to give up;

Fourth our lovers and their spouses would likely find out why we are divorcing and blow up their marriages. We don't want to be responsible for that;

Fifth, I can't cook and I would starve without you;

Sixth, you can't balance a checkbook and you would go broke without me to manage the budget (I am good for something other than sex); and

Seventh... Uh Seventh... oh yes Seventh, because I love you even if you are occasionally screwing some other guy."

"Oh. That's a pretty good list of reasons. Especially the last one. The being in love part."

"Yeah it should probably be first rather than last," Charlie said.

I took a sip of my coffee. "So divorce is out. Does that mean we should break off our affairs?"

"I see some problems there too," he said:

"First, I'm not sure we would be successful. At least not me;

"Second, we are both having fun. You said yourself that the sex was great;

"Third, and our lovers are apparently enjoying it also."

"Hmm. Food for thought," I said. "But my head still hurts too much to do this now. For right now I'm going to take three Advil and then go to the gym to see if I can burn some of these toxins out of my system."

"Yeah I think I'll do the same thing with a long bike ride. And lots of water. Don't forget to hydrate. Let's get together at dinner and see if we have any better ideas. My god, how did we get ourselves into such a complicated problem."

I smiled and said, "Oh I think you know the answer to that. The problem is not how we got into trouble but how we get out."

"Or should we get out?" he replied.

I thought about Charlie's last comment while I was at the gym. I thought about it a lot. I took it to mean that perhaps he thought we should do nothing about our affairs other than continue them. That seemed somehow wrong. Not just a little wrong, but a lot wrong; to know that you are having an affair with another woman's husband and to just continue it when even your own husband knows about it must be wrong. "Mustn't it?" I asked myself. I know I had felt guilty about cheating on Charlie and not telling him, but should I feel guilty about screwing Rod without his wife knowing, a woman I had never met? I had not taken any vow to her like I had Charlie.

If I asked 100 people on the street, how many of them would tell me continuing our affairs was okay. One? Two? More likely zero. "But then we all know talk is cheap," I told myself. "Isn't the question really what those hundred people would actually do if they were in the same position themselves? Yes, then the answer might be very different--if they were honest."

I ground along on the elliptical trainer sweat pouring off me as I let these ideas bounce back and forth in my head seeing no solution to our problem.

Unable to deal with my moral quandary I let my mind wander as I continued my workout remembering how exciting it was the first time--the first time with Rod. That was much easier than trying to resolve the moral question. That daydreaming made me more than a little bit horny.

I returned home from the gym feeling no closer to an answer to the question of what my husband Charlie and I should do about our newly disclosed affairs than I had been the night before. However I wasn't drunk and my hangover had abated. I showered and dressed. When I came downstairs I found Charlie just returning from his bike ride, looking hot, sweaty, and tired but like me, sober and no longer hungover. He showered and we were soon both sitting on the back porch on a beautiful Saturday afternoon drinking a beer. We didn't need a beer after last night, but... it was a warm afternoon and the beer tasted good. Just one beer I told myself.