I was incredulous. This wasn't a marriage it was a fucking circus. After the total mess we'd made of things up to now, I could not believe Gayle was going to treat a marriage on life support so casually. Then for the first time I suddenly realised how she was seeing things.
As she laughingly swung her legs out of bed, I reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her back around to face me. I was a bit more forceful than I'd intended, but although her face changed immediately, she didn't look worried, only puzzled. I gave her arm another tug to land her seated on the bed.
"Now just bloody wait a minute! I know I'm fucking tolerant, but don't try to take me for granted like that. You had better sit here and talk about this, because what you're trying to pull off isn't going to happen."
Gayle was at once subdued, but still clearly felt that I just needed my nerve steadying, "Come on" she smiled weakly, "You know you want this. Your cock clearly knows you want it. We'll both get such a turn on from this – we'll love it!"
"You really don't get it do you?" I said flatly. "I don't blame you, because I didn't understand it at all either, but I'm not rushing off headlong without thinking about what we could be risking."
And I explained it. All the muddled thoughts and feelings, all the apparent contradictions, finally lined up in my head and came together in a coherent stream. We'd married young, with virtually no experience sexually, and the sex was crap. After the initial fun of the new, it wasn't good enough to sustain itself, and because we had had a fairytale expectation, it didn't occur to us that in real life it rarely just clicked – it took practice and open effort.
The stupid thing was, what nearly broke us up was something we both pretty much felt the same about. She didn't want an affair, she wanted occasional sex with other men, not a relationship of substance. It was why she'd balked at the final step with Dave ... because he'd clearly wanted a boyfriend/girlfriend romance, and Gayle most definitely didn't – and certainly not with him.
I got turned on at the thought of her getting fucked, but if she acted as if they were a couple, I really would knock seven shades out of him. People might see that as kinky, even disgusting, but we were on the same agenda.
The thing that Gayle hadn't grasped, was that I had a sex drive – which was amazing, as it had always been that the more I had, the more I wanted. My technique may have needed some work, but there was no lack of commitment on my part to put in the hours to improve things!
Sex turned me on, and it was an understatement to say I was broadminded. I wanted Gayle to screw around, but I really wanted to screw around too. I didn't want us to do it all the time, but the prospect of occasionally enjoying other partners was a huge turn on. Gayle's vision of leaving me alone to toss off whilst she laughing played the field was way, way off the mark.
I didn't know exactly what she made of everything I'd said, but she certainly wasn't expecting to run off ringing potential partners when we'd finished talking.
She continued to sit there for a while before the tears started to come, rolling slowly one by one down her cheek. I didn't move to hold her or comfort her. It wasn't the time.
Eventually she moved to lay on the bed beside me, not touching, and we both looked up at the ceiling and talked. After some time, very quietly, she said, "I never realised."
"No, you didn't"
"So what do we do?" Her previous confidence was nowhere to be seen.
"You need to think about things. I don't regret getting married, and I'm willing to work at it. But if it's not the way it should be, I'm not going to compromise ... I'm willing to walk away rather than do that." I paused for that to sink in before I continued. "I'll sleep in the spare room tonight to give you space. Tomorrow is soon enough for talking."
***********************
The next day we didn't solve everything but we made a start.
We slowly rebuilt trust and the physical side we clearly both needed over the following weeks and months. It was coupled with some unambiguous boundaries. I told her she'd walked out on me, and that that had hurt. I told her plainly that if she ever walked out again, it was for good – no matter what we felt the damage would be too great to make another attempt.
Gayle's casual assumption of my compliance was gone. She was far more concerned to be aware of, and allow for, my expectations and perspective. The effect was positive on both of us, and by the middle of summer we were enjoying something of a honeymoon.
Early on, whilst we'd acknowledged that we both wanted to 'swing and swap,' or something similar, but we agreed it wouldn't happen until things were much more solid. It wasn't something that we touched on much for fear of moving too fast. Now I was happy to be more adventurous. It was fair to say that the hot weather was also making me horny.