Consequences - Sharon

There is a quote from someone I can't place who said that plans are what we make until reality happens to us. A second quote is 'Men Make Plans and the Gods Laugh'. This is a story about one day in the life of a woman who has everything she wants. Her life is going according to plan and then reality intervenes. The consequences are more than she ever anticipated.

Edited by Lady Cibelle and made better by her comments and suggestions.

The Day Begins

My Thursday began perfectly. Cal and I had sex one last time before he slipped out of my hotel room before I had to get ready to return home. He took me from behind as I stood in front of the bathroom vanity watching him in the mirror as his lust took hold and he slammed me against the counter top. I grabbed onto the edge of the top and braced myself as his thrusts became harder and faster. I felt my own orgasm approaching and I used my fingers to stimulate my clit. His grunts of pleasure matched my own as our climaxes roared toward completion. We came together, his fluid coating the walls of my vagina and adding to the pleasure of my own climax. He slumped over my back, his hands grasping my breasts, his breath coming in gasps as we came down from our high.

"God, I miss you more each time. That was incredible. Are you sure you can't get away more often?"

"You know better Cal. Only when we're scheduled and that's just three or four times a year. Now get off me so I can take a shower. You need to get going before it gets later than it already is. Remember to check the door before you go out?"

"I remember. Are you sure I can't call you once in a while? Just at work?"

"No! No contact until the next time I'm here. Now go; leave!"

He checked himself in the mirror, rolled my nipples between his fingers causing me to sigh in contentment, kissed the back of my neck and then was gone. I waited until I heard the door close and then went into the room. I thought about last night and as always, felt a shiver of delight. This was one of the best nights with Cal I could remember. I know I had at least four orgasms. Must be his new wife, teaching him new tricks. I laughed to myself and then took my shower. It wasn't long until I had to meet Penny in the lobby for our return flight to Newark.

When I went down, Penny was already there and waiting. She had no idea what I did with Cal last night or any night over the past two years we had been coming to Chicago together. She rambled on about nothing in particular and I listened, half of my attention on her and the other half on last night's activities. I was also going to miss my night with Cal but another one would come soon. Just as it had been. We took the shuttle to the airport and boarded our plane home. It was on time so that just added to my contentment. This trip had been very pleasant and I thought back to it and the others as I dozed in my seat.

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Monday evening, Penny and I landed in Chicago and caught a cab to the Hilton where we were staying. We made this trip usually once a quarter, meeting with the Consumer Affairs personnel; the ones that answered all the correspondence sent into the company about our products and our services. We manufactured disposable medical devices; bandages, creams, rubber products, surgical trays, and other small devices that the FDA considered medical. We were there to update them on all of our products; the testing we did and the results, any new products about to be introduced and just general knowledge. We also gave them answers to questions they received so that there was a common thread of information.

My name is Sharon Mills, and Penny Larson and I were design engineers with Baxter Healthcare, a large manufacturer of medical and hospital products. My husband Jason was a senior manager in the design section of Walters Power Generation Systems and he rarely had to travel. He didn't mind my own need to go and always encouraged me to do what I felt was necessary to further my own career. We planned on a family but that was for later. I wanted to see how far I could go before I made the decision to quit and become a mother. Jason was disappointed, wanting to begin sooner, but he never begrudged me my dreams or my ambitions.

When Penny and I went to Chicago, we flew together and generally stayed two days and three nights, leaving New Jersey on Monday and flying home on Thursday. Our meetings began Tuesday morning and ended early Wednesday afternoon. The Consumer Affairs, or CA department, scheduled the meetings and arranged our days and typically Tuesday night when we had dinner with the major players in CA and some of the other Managers that were tangentially interested in what we had to say. Mainly new products for the Sales and Marketing folks.

One of the managers in Sales was Cal Proctor. He and I met several years ago and I found him to be very interesting. He was younger than me by a few years, but he was charming and always hitting on me. I asked him one day why he would be interested in a woman so much older. He bluntly said that he found me to be exciting and very sexy. His words awoke something inside me and I found myself beginning to entertain the idea that we could be more than just friends. Penny always chastised me, reminding me that we were there on business and that I was a happily married woman. I assured her that it was completely harmless and that I had no intention of doing anything about it.

I had been married to Jason Mills for five wonderful years when Penny and I made the trip to Chicago for our third quarter meetings. We arrived as usual, spent the evening together with dinner and a few drinks in the lounge, than up to our rooms to get ready for the next day's meetings. On Tuesday, things went as planned and the evening was pleasant with Cal and the rest of them making us feel welcome as always. Wednesday was a repeat and we finished rather early, the CA people satisfied that they had all they wanted. We caught a cab back to the hotel, dressed for dinner and relaxed, our work done. Penny was tired so we went back to our rooms for an early night.

I had just finished talking with Jason when my phone rang again. I answered to find it was Cal. He was in the lobby and asked if I would join him for a drink in the lounge. I hesitated, thinking that this might be a bad idea but I accepted and joined him. He was dressed casually and looked quite relaxed as I ordered a mixed drink. Once again I told myself that this was a mistake but I reasoned that nothing could happen so long as I was in control. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and after two or three drinks, not enough to make me lose control but enough to lower my inhibitions, I found myself unlocking the door to my room with Cal's arms around my waist.

The next several hours were filled with intense pleasure as Cal showed me a world of sexual abandon I had only imagined. I found myself doing things for him that I had never considered doing for Jason. I was on my knees with Cal's cock in my mouth and delighting in swallowing his cum, something I had never done with Jason. And I had multiple orgasms with Cal, being fucked from behind, slammed against the wall and taken standing up, missionary style and finally, in the shower, bent over holding my ankles as he pounded me. It went on all night and I never wanted it to end. The only thing I refused was anal sex. I had never done that and I didn't have any desire.

I would like to say I was filled with remorse and guilt the following morning when I watched Cal slip out of my room just before dawn. I would like to say I told Cal that this could never happen again. I would like to say those things, but I can't. All I could think of was that it was over and I had to wait another three months before I could enjoy it again. Cal and I made promises to see each other the next time I came to Chicago and I meant every word. After the way I behaved that night, I could only assume that Cal would want to repeat it. After all, I was his personal slut, willing to do most anything. As I dressed for the trip to the airport, I began to remember that I was a married woman and what I did was not something that Jason could ever know about.

On the plane back to Newark, I found myself able to push the night with Cal into a separate category that was removed from my life with Jason and which had nothing to do with the love that he and I shared. This was sex: wild, wanton sex without rules or boundaries. The type of sex I couldn't share with Jason. He would see me as a slut, a tramp, a woman without morals or standards, exactly the way I behaved with Cal. I loved Jason and I couldn't stand for him to think of me that way. But Cal wasn't my husband and I had nothing to prove to him. What I did, I did for myself and he was just a tool to allow me to experience something different. As we prepared for landing, the last thought I had was that so long as Jason never found out about Cal, there was no danger.

At home that night, I gave Jason the loving time that he came to expect when I had been gone for a few days. We made love; real love, totally unlike what I gave Cal. I was a little more adventurous that night and Jason seemed to like it so I decided that from now on I would ask him if he had any fantasies. That should let me introduce some of the less offensive things Cal and I did without suspicion. Jason and I began to be more open after that and I enjoyed it. Jason gave no indication that he suspected anything at all and I relaxed. I was safe and I had my love. For the next three months, I thought about nothing but pleasing my husband. Cal was forgotten until the next trip.

As time passed, Cal came to my room on each trip to Chicago without anyone becoming the wiser. I would call Jason on Wednesday evening and talk to him until late and then Cal and I would have sex until the early hours of the morning. On several occasions, Cal listened to my conversation with Jason but I made him stay away from me and silent as I did. I loved Jason and my conversations with him were between he and I. Nothing Cal did was going to detract from that and he understood. I was surprised sometime in the second year of our infrequent meetings when he told me he had met and married someone the past year and I was afraid he would discontinue our meetings but he never missed once.

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The plane landed; the trip was over and it was time to get back to my life as Jason's wife. When we got to the luggage area, I looked for my husband but couldn't see him anywhere. Jason normally met me at the airport but this time, I saw a uniformed driver holding a handmade sign with my name as I came down the steps. I checked the time to confirm that I was on time. It was just past ten thirty in the morning so we arrived as expected. I walked over, identified myself and asked where my husband was. The driver shrugged, said that he had been hired to pick me up and asked where my bags were. Penny and I stood as the bags came down and then, once I had mine, I waved goodbye to her and her husband and left with the driver.

I was anxious for this trip to be over and was relieved when the car pulled into my drive, but when I came into the house I noticed almost immediately the silence and the emptiness. As I walked through the rooms, I could see something wrong in each one. Something was missing and it took a few seconds to realize that all the things that were gone were things Jason considered important. I finally walked into the kitchen, slumped down into one of the chairs at the table and tried to imagine what was going on. That was when I noticed the envelope attached to the refrigerator. I got up to pull it off and returned to my chair to open it. It was addressed to me:

Sharon

. Nothing else, no little hearts, no little endearments.

I suddenly felt cold, a shiver running down my back. I had a premonition that inside this envelope was something bad, something I didn't want to see. I believe my subconscious mind had already put everything together and had reached a devastating conclusion, but my conscious mind was not willing to accept those conclusions yet. Unless it was proven, it wasn't true. As long as I didn't open this envelope, nothing was real. I put it down and just stared at it for the longest time but finally, knowing I had no choice, I opened it.

Inside were three pages, typed and double spaced. I looked at the top of the page and saw the name of a private investigation service located in Chicago. The bottom of the last page was signed by someone and there was a list of attachments. I put this report down without reading it and looked inside the envelope. I saw several pictures and pulled a few of them out. They were pictures of Cal entering and exiting a room. There were additional pictures of the room number and a copy of my credit card receipt showing the room charged to me. So far, I began to hope that all he had was circumstantial evidence of my affair. If I tried very hard I could make up a story that should offset this flimsy evidence. I had no choice but to call Cal and between us we could work something out. I began to breathe again as some of the fear subsided.

I looked again inside the envelope and pulled out another couple of pictures that were left inside. As I looked at these pictures, my heart plummeted. Somehow, these pictures were taken inside my hotel room. It appeared someone had installed a camera in the smoke detector mounted on the wall directly above the bed. There was no longer any doubt. One of the pictures showed me with my ass in the air, my face pressed against the bed, and Cal plowing into me from behind. Both our faces were clearly visible. I threw the picture away as if it were on fire but realized the action was futile. It made no difference now, my plan to fabricate some stupid story was dead before it began.

I rose and got myself a glass of water. My throat was dry and parched, my face was flushed, and I was shivering. I sipped the water, looking out the window over the sink, trying to get a grip on myself. I had no idea what I was going to do but I was not going to go down without a fight. My marriage was my life and I couldn't lose it. I loved Jason with all my heart and although I had done something stupid, I was going to make him see that it was separate and had nothing to do with him or my love for him. He would understand it if I could just talk to him and explain.

I went into the den where we kept the phone directory. I thought he might be with his sister in Delaware. She lived in Dover and they kept in touch. She was married and had two little ones, a boy and a girl, just as Jason and I hoped we would have when I decided that I was going to quit my job. I just wasn't ready to do that. . . . . .! I decided not to go there. That way led to danger and a trap. As I turned on the desk light, I found another letter addressed to me. It was hand addressed and I recognized Jason's handwriting. I grabbed it in excitement and tore it open. Inside were two pages, written in Jason's loopy handwriting. I offered up a prayer and began.

Sharon

,

Not my dear wife, or Sharon my love, just plain Sharon. My heart skipped a beat as I read on. There was nothing to do now but read what Jason had to say.

By now you have seen the pictures and the investigator's report. So you know that I know you have been seeing Cal Proctor when you went to Chicago. I'm sure of the last two times and I assume it's been going on longer, every time you went there, spending your last night with him. The pictures I left for you were just some of the ones that my investigator gave me. Most were too hard for me to look at and I burned them. The betrayal was almost more than I could take, but it was important for me to know the magnitude of your cheating. I had to know and now that I do, I wish I didn't.

I had hoped that it was just a simple fling; a one time thing that I could have found the strength to forgive; but that wasn't the case. It was planned, a continuing thing, and awful in its detail. The pictures I did look at convinced me that I could never forgive or forget what I saw. The things you did with him were things that you and I never did or even discussed. Now I know where the suggestions to try new things came from: they were things you did first with him.

I don't know why you would do this to us. Why you had to have another man in your bed and in your life. And a life that I had no knowledge of and no part in. I wonder how often Cal Proctor was in our bed when I was making love to you. I was with only you, but you were with both of us. That was the worst betrayal of all. When I made love with you, who were you thinking of? Did you even know? Were you comparing me to him? I know you were and after what I saw you do with him, the thought of it emasculates me.

I made arrangements with Walt Seymour to represent me in our divorce. The papers have been filed and I chose to go with no fault. I have no desire to tell the world of your infidelity and no desire to publicly humiliate myself any more than you already have. So from this point on, please tell Walt who you want to represent you. I have already moved my things out of the house so you can stay there until it is sold as part of the settlement.

Know only that I loved you with all my heart. I wish you the best.

Jason.

I sat there as the letter fluttered to the floor, my eyes filling with tears and my heart breaking. I admit to surprise; surprise that it happened at all and surprise that I was surprised by it. But why was I surprised? I never considered myself naïve; never blind to what was going on around me. I was a great driver for example, always aware of my surroundings and what other people were doing, especially when it affected me and my life so how could this have caught me so completely unprepared?

I looked around the room and noticed little things now. The picture of Jason and I on the cruise we took last year on our anniversary was still there, hanging over the mantle, but the picture of Jason preparing to dive from the cliff in Maui was gone. There were other things missing: the pictures of his parents, the award he won for a cost savings for his company, several mementos that Jason treasured; all gone, leaving only those things with my picture or things that meant something only to me. Jason had taken his life and removed it from our home.

I knew if I went upstairs to our bedroom, I would find the same thing. In a sudden rush of optimism that this wasn't actually happening, I ran upstairs and looked first in his closet: empty! Then I hurried into the bathroom and checked his side of the full length vanity: empty! His end table was the same, all the things he kept in his drawer gone. The book he was reading; the cream he used to soften the callus on his elbow; his nail clippers; his pills for sleeping; and finally the little things that he treasured. Nothing of Jason remained in this room, the room we shared for the last seven years.

I stripped off my clothes, lay down on the bed and buried my face in the pillow, letting the tears come now without trying to stop them. I cried for the loss of my innocence, the loss of my naivety. I cried for my ignorance of what could happen to me when I made my choice to betray my husband and my marriage. I asked the heavens why this had happened to me and was chagrined when the answer came that my own selfishness and base desires were the culprits. Both things under my control and both things that I learned as a child to control. How had I allowed them to cloud my judgment now that I was an adult? How could I have been so blind as to believe I could continue this behavior without consequences? I cried for the loss of everything I held dear.