Cheating Honesty

Cheating? Honesty?

I was surprised when my husband broached the topic of me having intimate relations with other men after we were married. This had nothing to do with cuckold or wife sharing. I had told my husband about some of my closest male friends that never clicked because of circumstances out of our control. He asked me if I still had feelings for these former lovers--calling them lovers seemed hyperbolic at the time. I told him about four men that could've been my first husband.

My actual first husband was a piece of shit, ruined most of my friendships, and eroded my trust in other people. He was emotionally abusive and cheated on me at many levels. My current husband proposed a second chance to resolve my unexplored feelings should the opportunity arise.

"You're not talking about me leaving you, marrying one of them, are you?"

"I have faith in your love, sweetie. I feel you've been cheated out of something that needs closure. I want you to resolve these feelings with an unencumbered mindset."

This was the conversation my husband, Jim, touched on while we were dating, then sat down and laid out after we married. He was permitting me to be intimate with men that fell through the cracks in my life, including sex. I was shocked that our short conversation while dating was about me fucking old boyfriends.

"I can't imagine you being okay with me doing something like that. It's weird."

"It is weird, and I can't imagine you and I seeing the world through the same lens. As long as you can be honest with me about this, it's fine because I know I can trust you." I said, "Maybe it's better said that our relationship runs deeper than physical intimacy."

We had this conversation a dozen times over the first five years of our marriage. One of my girlfriends explained how her husband was encouraging her to consider swinging to broaden her horizons. I told her what Jim had proposed, and she interpreted it very differently than I had.

Later that day, I sat down with Jim and told him I'm at the gym

"What did you mean by being honest about extramarital relationships?" I asked.

"That you wouldn't conceal what you did with them."

"How much would you want to know?"

He asked me to give him a moment to remember the answer he'd prepared five years ago.

"What base did you make it to, and if you did something intimately uniquely with him."

"That's how Jill interpreted it," I said.

"What were you thinking."

"I'm going/went on a date with ex-boyfriend number 1."

"How can you call that honest!"

Jim's dad was a man-of-his-word guy, and Jim's most distinctive trait was integrity. The huge disparity between what we thought honest meant made him prickly.

I took his hand.

"I was thinking about not lying about whether it happened, not what we did on a date, that's all."

He relaxed.

"So you understand why I want those extra details?"

"No, I don't. Jill told about the swinger-ish practice where a woman goes on dates and then tells her husband about it. That's not honesty."

"I am aware of wife sharing, and a blow-by-blow account is the norm." Jim said, "I'm not expecting anything close to that."

"A single intimate detail transforms this into a sex act involving at least three people."

I was redefining honesty my way. Jim knew I was doing what he did to me.

"You're right. Your could-have-been's are none of my business." Jim said, "Is this conversation related to an upcoming date?"

This was all Jill's insight, and I told him so.

Jim looked off.

"You okay?"

"I'm not sure how I'll feel about this if it ever happens." He said, "I know you wouldn't be comfortable if you thought I wasn't all in. Not knowing could ruin everything."

He worried about breaking his word.

"We can test your resolve with less consequential men." I said, "I'll go on four dates. I'll tell you his name. I might date four different men or the same one four times. Is that enough to test your resolve?"

"I know you are not interested in purely physical relations."

"If I can get away with it, I'm more likely to do something out of character," I said, "I'll get a hotel room and stay out all night."

It took Jim a leap of faith with the help of implied sexy time.

"Yes. Don't keep me waiting. I don't--this is important to me."

"He's giving you carte blanch," Jill said.

"Your husband was encouraging you to swing. Think you can find me some dates?"

"Bobbie, those men want sex." Jill said, "They only want sex."

"Jim already thinks he broke his word. He's humoring me with these test dates. A softball date would devastate him, implying I don't believe him either."

Jill pursed her lips.

"As much as I don't want to say this, Stanley can help you find a date."

I made an appointment with Stanley. Jill and I were close enough to talk about sex, but I hardly spoke to her husband. His help felt more like a good samaritan stopping to help me with a flat tire than a favor from a friend. I felt like I was wasting his time.

"You filter by location, then narrow it down from there. Women looking for sex generally find someone attractive and then filter that group by what's the next most important thing you're looking for typically, it's penis size."

I stifled a giggle.

"Then what?"

Stanly rolled the mouse to the contact link on the profile. We were behind his computer in his home office. I followed Jill from the gym to their house, but only Stanly and I were in his study. She refused to encourage his current hobby.

"Click the email link and tell him why you're interested. If the guy is willing to help you, you can have a voice conversation to get a feel for him and arrange a meeting."

"Why would any of these guys want to go on a date knowing I'm not looking for sex?"

"Read their profiles. Not all of these guys are looking for intercourse. This is a pretty accepting crowd because everybody has their kinks." Stanly said, "And what you're doing is some kinky stuff."

"Really?"

I didn't think Jim's proposition was kinky, certainly lewd, but it felt very tame after reading only two profiles.

"Write down why you're doing this and email it to the guys that interest you. Throw in a question or two to make sure they're paying attention. You'll want to talk to the ones that paid attention."

"That's a good idea."

"I'm happy to help you look, but that might be weird. Any questions before I leave you to it?"

"Actually, yes," I said, "What made you get into this without Jill's input?"

"I worried I would get too old to do certain things. Exploring flavors of intimate relationships was high on my list," Stanley said, "I didn't expect Jill to jump on board, but I had to start somewhere."

I thanked him, and he left me to it. I sorted my location and age using Dave as the model. That narrowed the list to only hundreds, not thousands. I add the words 'creative' and 'artistic' to the search parameters, making the count 189.

I stopped with the search and wrote what I wanted to achieve.

I'm NOT interested in sex; this is simply a test.

That was my first line and heading.

My husband wants me to reconcile my feelings with old boyfriends should the opportunity arise because he is not allowed to know anything about those encounters except that I met with someone. He wants me to take four practice dates to see if he is truly comfortable with me reconnecting with my past lovers, regardless of how intimate that encounter is. Have you ever done anything like this? How would you feel if I was your first love and life kept us apart and then showed up years later?

I sent an email to the first four profiles that didn't have anything crazy in their descriptions. The emails would be forwarded to a dummy email account I set up. I saved the search result and let Stanley know I was done.

Not two days went by, and I had responses from all four men. The first two asked if the no-sex thing was solid. I checked them off the list right away. The third one was interested in the type of date I expected. He was confused about the mechanics of a date without sex. The fourth guy answered my questions.

Have I ever done this before?

Yes, I role-play a widow's husband for her anniversary. She and I had sex, but she gave me very detailed instructions on how to best represent her departed husband, including letters they shared before we met.

How would I feel about you, my missed love, showing up after years?

I know my circumstances would decide much, but the most important part would be how you felt connected to me so much that you needed to make it right.

He asked me a question, too.

How will you have this conversation for real?

Everything about this guy made me tingle. We share phone numbers. I gave him a VOIP number I set up so he had me in his contacts, and we set up a time for me to call him. I was nervous because his question made me question whether I could meet Jim's expectations.

"Hello, this is Ben. Is this Bobbie?"

"Yep, it's me, Ben," I said, "I'm crazy nervous, so if you can help me not freak out."

"You'd be surprised how often I hear first-timers say that." He said, "This is out of your comfort zone, and I am at the epicenter of that zone."

"You sound very normal. Do you hear that often, too?"

"I'm not a shrink, and I don't judge." He said, "When your husband brought this topic up, what did you think?"

"I thought the idea was crazy but well-meaning."

I explained how a swinger site sparked a conversation that uncovered a five-year miscommunication between what my husband and I expected if these encounters ever happened.

"My husband feels like he broke his word because he doesn't know if he can stand not knowing anything."

"You didn't give him a chance to take it back?"

"He made the mistake of not explaining what he expected. If he had explained it the first time, I would've rejected it then." I said, "After five years of pressing the issue, he feels awful. This is my chance to make his word matter and restore his honor."

"Nice. I'm your old boyfriend. You're in the neighborhood and just called me to work out these feelings." Ben said, "Hey, Bobbie, great to hear from you. What's going on?"

Ben transitioned into the role-play so expertly that I was left cotton-mouthed, fumbling over my words.

"I was thinking about the old times and wanted to talk to you about some stuff that we never got to work out."

"Sure, let's talk," Ben said.

"Can we get together just the two of us?" I said.

"What! You're in town? Has my wife seen you?"

Even though I knew he was acting, Ben's sudden panic filled me with horror.

"This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Your husband is giving you a hall pass. Your old boyfriend could be married with children. You represent a threat and promise. Stirring up buried emotions, making love that might resolve or unleash feelings you never knew about." Ben said, "Will you wreck a marriage or two? Can you live a polyamorous life?"

What the hell were you thinking, Jim?

"Ben, this is scaring me."

"If there is no risk, then you don't have anything to resolve."

That's the thing with relationships: risking your heart.

"Okay. Yes. How do we do this?"

"Send me a full-body picture of you, a bio of one of your boyfriends, and how you are connected to him. Pick the one who has the least to lose if a sexual encounter becomes public. I'll send you a game plan, and our next phone call will be 100% in character. The more details you send, the better, but it will take me longer to prepare."

"Thanks, Ben, I'll talk to you--hopefully soon."

I told Jim that I started the first steps to setting up my first four dates. I was surprised at how happy he looked when I told him. I noticed his enthusiasm was attenuated by his anxiety, but he was so happy that I was making the effort. I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say to him, but I wanted him to know that this was a lot harder than I realized and that it might take longer than simply setting up an engagement.

"It sounds like you're trying to make this as realistic as possible."

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

Jim gave me a smile and a huge hug. We made love that night more passionately than we had in a long time.

Oh my gosh, this might actually work!

The boyfriend I picked was named Ben. When I was talking to my swinger Ben, Ben Hawthorn took me to my first football game. He being a 'Ben' completely slipped my mind. He was the only single man out of the four for whom I had lingering feelings. We were going steady my junior year he was a senior. His grandma got sick, and his parents packed up and moved across the country to take care of her. He was uprooted and had to graduate from a different high school.

I was married to my first husband before he moved back to go to college. It took me a couple of weeks to collect as many personal effects related to Ben. The fact that I still had all the letters Ben sent me spoke volumes about my husband's insight. I reread the letters and found myself in tears before I finished the first page.

I scanned the letters, took photos of my high school yearbook, and pictures of Ben and me together. I asked Stanley what I should wear for the full-length picture. Stanly said since he didn't specify, I should wear something complementary but not overtly sexy.

"Look as pretty as you can without excessive effort." he said, "Ask Jill what she does for her quick days."

I already knew. She showered, blow-dried her hair, and put on a touch of mascara. Jill recommended my sky-blue summer skirt that showed a couple of inches of skin above my knees, and that's what she photographed me wearing.

I took two weeks to collect the items swinger Ben asked for and the short history of Ben and I's relationship. Email me back the same day,

"Bobbie, this is perfect. I will reply in exactly 7 days. I might not be done, but don't bounce off the walls by checking your email every hour. Regards, Ben."

It was torture waiting for the entire week despite his response promised response.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this giddy," Jill said.

"I know you won't say anything to Stanly, but my conversation with Swinger Ben and the preparations he asked for have improved Jim and I's sex life by a jillion percent."

"How? Why?"

"Jim thinks this will test his resolve like the real thing because I'm taking it seriously. He stopped moping, and my preparations make me feel like I'm meeting the real Ben Hawthorn."

"You know, Swinger Ben wants to have sex with you."

"He's certainly putting in the effort." I said, "Good for him."

The email I'd been dying to read arrived.

"Dearest Bobbie, I received your message about getting together. I can't wait to see you. I'm anxious, too. I don't know how seeing you in the flesh will feel, but I owe you that and so much more. When I got your message... Always yours, Benjamine"

I shivered. Swinger Ben was either a lyrical wordsmith or used AI to craft a two-hundred-word love letter. Our coffee shop date was over the phone. Swinger Ben added a P.S.

"Our phone date lacks the energy of a meeting in person, feeling physical contact, and making eye contact. During our date, when you feel a strong emotional connection, remove an article of clothing. You only count four items: top and bottom, outer and under clothes. This is for you. You can send me a picture after the date."

I immediately got aroused.

Swinger Ben, you are one smooth talker.

I told Jim in advance that I had a phone date on Friday and would go through all the motions to work out any bugs to avoid another miscommunication, including spending the night away from home. Stanly let me set up my VOIP in his office, and Jill let me sleep on their couch.

"Jill, if I'm naked when this phone call ends, you might reconsider Stanly's proposition."

"What has gotten into you, girl?"

"I think Jim read my old letters my parents kept in storage after we married," I said.

Jill mouthed,

Oh my god.

"I'm sure it was harmless--my mom saw my high school yearbook in a box and told him to go through it." I said, "That's why Jim is so torn up. He knows if I don't do this, he risks me getting t-boned by an old memory and lying about the aftermath. Not knowing if he can cut the cord and keep his word is tearing him apart."

Jill held back a sheepish smile.

"What?"

"You had a shitty run early on, but now you're surrounded by a husband, a lover, and a pipedream who wants to possess you so badly they ache with pain." Jill said, her infectious smile no longer hidden, "I'm not envious of your position, but I am jealous."

"Go on, Stanley can address your needs."

Jill skittered to her bedroom, calling her husband's name in a sing-song voice.

I closed the office door but reversed myself to retrieve a bottle of water. My stomach filling with butterflies, I sat and picked up the phone. It was an actual telephone, but to dial, I pressed a button on the computer, and my date arrived.

"My god, Bobbie," He said, "Why are you so beautiful?"

Fuck me.

I started crying and took off my shirt.

"How did we do this to each other, Ben?"

"We never said good-bye."

I cried some more.

Goodbye, pants.

"One day, you weren't there," I said. "I walked around for a week thinking you were around the next corner. No one wanted to tell me what happened."

I was in a fog after Ben left, and people treated me like I was ill. The deluge of memories came back. It wasn't me. Everyone was afraid of what I would do when I found out.

"No cell phones back in the day." He said, "My dad wouldn't let me use the hotel phone for long-distance calls. I couldn't sleep knowing you would show up on my doorstep and see what you saw."

I took off my bra.

"The screen door broke me," I said, "It wasn't latched in the wind, dust covered the porch like a ghost town. The door slammed between the wall and the doorjam. Once I heard that noise, I knew you were gone."

I took off my panties and curled into a ball on the floor.

"I lay on the porch and cried."

He sniffed.

"I did something awful to make that long-distance call. Your mom didn't recognize my voice. Said you were on a date--I'm not going say with who." He said, "I'm guessing I was a day too late."

"I couldn't wait another day," I said, "And you're right, it was a day too late. You already knew what happened. My mom told me someone called and said I was on a date with Trent."

"I didn't even ask if it was you. I was sure she would recognize your voice."

"I had thrown up a few minutes before." He said, " And had to make the call before the graveyard clerk clocked in."

"You came back, and I was gone, married. I worried you'd show up angry at me, at him." I said, "Douchebag was afraid of you. I thought you were gonna kill him, but were so pissed off you stayed away."

He clicked his tongue.

"Of course, he never told you."

"Told me--?"

"You tell me. How many times was your answering machine empty when you came home from work?"

No no no no no no no no

The bill collectors called five times a day; he expected me to deal with them. One day, they stopped leaving messages.

"Of course, you called." I said, "That's why he was afraid of you."

"If I'd killed him, would it have gone better with us?" He said.

"You murdering someone?" I said, "Why go to the trouble when I could've gotten in the car and left with you."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Right."

Murder.

"If I didn't know it was you that did it, and you didn't get caught." I said, "I think it would have been better for us."