Discovering Sin

Off the record for the readers, this is the last chapter of a book, not a story.

For those of you who have helped or enjoyed the series, THANK YOU for your comments. Whether supportive or critical of the author or the characters I have seriously considered each response, and been affected by things you’ve said. I just finished Discovering Sin III below and I know some will like it and others won’t. I wasn’t sure how it was going to end until just a few hours ago.

I have strong feelings about sticking with things to the end; I think the characters reflect this. There are only a few of you responding through to just one of the story sites that I have been able to send a reply to and thank personally, but if any of you want to contact me through my author name CraCyn55, at yahoo.com with a return address, I will definitely reply and appreciate your effort.

I’ve been surprised to find some people who react in a cruel and bitter way to these characters. Almost always those mean and negative reactions are posted anonymously, but even those have caused me to do what I could to address concerns. Once again a sincere thanks for your support.

CraCyn55

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You may laugh at the notion that Cyn wants to be ‘good’ and just can’t help herself, but it’s true and this is just part of the long story that tries to explain why.

This is a completely original work of fiction that has basis in real life; the characters are imaginary, even though they’re real to me and I’ve enjoyed this experience. If you enjoy the story, I’d love to know it, if you don’t; I hope you didn’t read it all. This is an exaggeration of life and emotion, if I hit my mark you will love the people you meet or hate them, I didn’t plan on neutrality.

I had no idea where this was going to take me when it began. I feel like a character, who was an aspiring author in a recent movie when he said; I know the characters and let them take me where they need to. To me, these people were real, normal and comfortable with their normal lives until things went off track. They’re ordinary people capable of extraordinary thought, emotion and behavior; that’s why you’ll see a strong reinforcement of normality that gets twisted out of shape throughout all the story parts.

If you can’t figure out the part or chapter order, click on the author link for all the parts and refer to the posting date.

Everyone’s home, who’s going to stay?

I heard Cyn say I love you and knew she needed to hear the same, but it was more important, right now, for her to have feelings centered on consequence more than comfort or a premature sense of security. It was actually hard to leave with the kids and stay away for two days, but I knew ‘Cyn’ had to realize and feel deeply what she was walking away from if she made that choice, my only concern was that she might be so deeply immersed in either a sea of lust or deep depression that she couldn’t get out even if she thought she wanted to.

I also knew there was a reason she fell into this web and it drew attention to the part of her psyche she had suppressed for many years, but was now as much a part of her as anything else, and that if it were ignored or she was forced to suppress again, it could emerge again one day and possibly take on an even uglier form.

I read and studied the words she laid down in her search for self understanding, and as a result, felt I understood her better. Ironically, knowing her needs, desires and all the little things that constitute a person’s ignition points for pleasure under other circumstances would make it possible for me to be a better husband, a more exiting and stimulating lover, but the process by which I have learned these things realistically appeared to present an insurmountable obstacle to our staying together.

At the very least, if we mutually decided to remain a couple, how could the deception and unrestrained sexual intimacy that she engaged in with people who were strangers to me fail to leave scar tissue and wounds that would be barriers to trust and faith in each other. The fact that the levels of intimacy far exceeded our wildest and most exiting acts of love alone would leave almost any man constantly wondering what invisible ghosts he might be competing against for sexual impression for ever.

Maybe I’m not like other men. By that I don’t pretend to suggest I have extraordinary powers, far to the contrary, at that point I felt anything but up for the challenge. There are some fundamental principals that I hold more important than any others however, and I believe those principals contain extraordinary power.

I have known for as long as I could remember that I do not have one single ‘Samantha’ power. I’ve never been able to wiggle my nose and transport me to another place or another time. Where I am is where I am, period. The only thing I had power to control is what the hell I did with time I was there. I absolutely love to grow and learn so when things become the most challenging; my resolve to make something good come of it rises exponentially. I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I would be faced with greater challenge or obstacles than this.

It wasn’t a challenge to beg her to stay under any condition, that probably wouldn’t be particularly hard and I wouldn't allow her to return without condition, but the object was to somehow end up with everything better than it ever was, taking a spineless approach to become a weak and submissive figurehead partner certainly isn’t what I would call better. Neither would the vindictive or vengeful approach work or be appealing, where some people would suggest that I could make Cyn my sex slave and sell her services on the street and exploit her addiction so that I could financially profit from her weakness.

There’s only one acceptable outcome as far as I was concerned, Cynthia, me and our whole family had to come out to the better, now there’s a hell of a challenge, one well worth fighting for. Pardon me for saying, but I’ve never been one to take what I consider to be the weak candy assed approach of dumping troubled baggage overboard to simply lighten the load, so you can go on without it, and I didn’t want her to live out the remainder of her life repressing her sexual self and feeling guilty over the sexual recklessness of her youth and these last few weeks. If I had a choice of seeing her in a short dress, or sack cloth and ashes, I think you know what I would choose.

If Cyn didn’t stay a part of this family, it would be more her choice, than mine and the kids. I think I know her well enough form 18 years in a powerful partnership and after reading the same things she wrote as you did, that right now she probably places a much lower value on herself than I do, so I was more concerned about her giving up from lack of hope and depression than I was about her walking out on us because she wanted to continue her sexual interests independently. Whatever happened was going to be a matter of choice, not dictatorial ultimatum and concession.

We made an important decision early on in our marriage that we would never electively consider divorce so the natural extension of this suggested that if we had a serious disagreement in which either or both of us were emotional and angry and didn’t want to be in the same room as the other, that neither of us would banish or evict the other from a room, if either of us felt separate beds were necessary, then that partner would have to exercise the option to go to a different room or bed.

I wasn’t inclined to follow the rules we set because I was forced to, I helped set the principals up and demanded observance from myself because I believed in them. Everyone in the family knew they were a part with rights and privileges, but we also knew there were conditions of fairness that had to be accepted by each in order to maintain entitlement to those rights and privileges.

In simple terms, Cyn knew that voluntary acceptance of obligations, principals of fairness and even rules were the price each of us had to pay in order to enjoy the company and good will of the others. Cyn couldn’t be a part of the family or my partner in life without her choice to accept the conditions and responsibilities associated with it. The fundamental rules were not capricious or dogmatic; they were simple cause and effect conditions of social interaction that were objective, fair and compassionate.

There is not one person on this planet that can damage or diminish me by what they feel or think about me. Cyn’s behavior or anyone’s opinion about it doesn’t make me any less or more than who I am, unless I choose to feel less or more by it. Cynthia is the one who is affected and the compassionate side of our rule for living made me concerned for her well being as well as for ours.

I wanted Cyn to be healthy, happy, secure and yes even completely fulfilled sexually in her own life and in our relationship as well, and I wanted and expected the same for myself. I had taught and truly believed it was an inescapable responsibility of any soul mate and lover to do all in their power to discover the keys to the pleasures of their other half, so many of the things Cyn had wildly done were things I myself might have discovered or lead her into if I had been meeting those responsibilities instead of hiding in my own guilty conscience I still felt more pain at what I had failed to notice than the fact she had expressed herself in such wanton openness with someone else.

Remember, I’m the one who provided the initial motivation to move her to that dance stage in the Landing Strip knowing from what I had read and knew that it could release the slut inside of her in front of all of us, and demonstrate her full power of sexual lust. I had no intention of trying to suppress her sexual expression and freedom; she would control how she wanted to act in the future, if she wanted to remain a partner and chose to express her sexuality with exhibition, and daring, I would be her catalyst. If extreme lust led to a strange cock, it would lead to a strange pussy as well.

The real complication would come in managing even our completely faithful sexual expression in a more free fashion while doing our best to protect three impressionable teens from being exposed to too much too soon. I think we both still agreed that we wanted to do all we could to help them be free from situations, urges and feelings better left to a later day.

I also knew that I had no desire to turn my back on my Church or all of the good things it encouraged and even required us to do. I knew there were components to my mind and thought that took pattern in my youth, and made me who I am. I don’t resent that. I acknowledge it and accept the responsibility to control what I must and give expression to what I can. So it is with Cyn. I don’t love her in spite of who she is; I love her because of it, and because of what she is capable of feeling and doing.

While we were at Ted’s, I had worked in time to take each of the kids one by one and explain as best as I could the circumstance of our family crisis. I was able to assure each one of my deep undying love for their mother and for them and I hoped I was able to help them understand that Cyn had choices she needed to make that may not be the choices we hoped for. The kids all agreed on their own that it was best for them to quickly reassure their mother of their love and then as soon as possible leave Cyn and I alone to sort things out.

I know we were all filled with anxiety and questions just like Cyn. When we pulled the car into the garage, no one really expected Cynthia to throw the door open and rush to us with open arms. I’m sure her burden was so great she might be afraid to see us at all. We moved into the house without a lot of words and found Cyn sitting in the great room with her legs tucked under her, looking full of concern and worry.

Each of the kids went to her and embraced her warmly telling her how much they missed her while we were at Uncle Ted’s Cynthia stood and drew each one powerfully into her embrace as tears flowed down her stained cheeks. She told them all how deeply she loved them and how terribly she had missed them as well.

When the teenagers all drifted out of the room, she turned to me with eyes that were moist with emotion and appeared to be windows to her very soul. As I approached, she gave way totally to the hurt and pain she knew she had brought into our relationship.

She cried bitterly and told me over and over and over again how sorry she was for the damage she did to me and our relationship, and that she loved me too much to live without me. Tears ran down my cheeks as well as we took at least this moment to confirm and declare our love for one another. Neither of us believed for a second that resolution and the rebuilding of our relationship would be as easy and simple as this declaration.

“Oh Craig,” She cried. “You know what a fool I’ve been. I don’t think I’ll ever be able make up for my selfishness stupidity.” And she collapsed against me shaking from the unending emotional storm.

For a long moment I simply held her, before asking. “Cyn, what do you think was the most stupid thing you did?”

There wasn’t an accusatory tone in my voice but I don’t think she really know what to make of the question. “What do you mean?” She said, assuming the use of the word ‘stupid’ was obvious but wondering how to identify ‘most’.

“Just tell me why ‘stupid’ is the best word to describe what you were doing.”

She thought for a minute and then started to explain how it was stupid first of all to put our relationship in jeopardy; it was foolish to risk hurting the kids, to risk health, safety, disease and arrest; all of these things were indeed stupid, but abusing my trust in her and my love was by far the ‘most stupid’ thing of all she said, and the pain associated with that admission left her weak and completely overcome with remorse.

She laid her head against my chest and I comforted her in my arms for all of the moments that were required to settle her down and drain her reservoir of tears. When she was finally calm and able to reason, I started to ask her the hard questions.

“Can you tell me what it was that made you do it in spite of the risk?” I asked.

“At first, I honestly didn’t consider the risks.” She admitted. “I know I was becoming selfish, and got carried away with what I thought justified my self indulgence. I think I convinced myself, that I had gone without things just for myself alone for a long time, and that it was ok for me to do what I wanted. At that time risk didn’t seem to be a concern. That’s why I decided to go back to work.”

“Things just escalated quickly, so quickly I didn’t see the risks that were coming. On the day I got the job I took Jenny with me, and we stopped at a mall so I could buy something new for my interviews. I didn’t know Jenny was a stripper until that day and it shocked me. I couldn’t get that off my mind as we drove to Gresham.”

“We stopped at Victoria’s Secret and she tried to talk me into some sexy lingerie. She said that beauty pageant contestants sometimes paraded around in the evening gowns without wearing panties so they would feel more alive during the competition, and that sexy lingerie under my clothes might give me an edge. I didn’t have the nerve to buy any and was afraid you would find out and think that wild thoughts were running through my head. I was really the one who was starting to have wild thoughts running through my head.”

She did talk me into a new jacket, skirt and blouse. The skirt was shorter than any I had worn since college even though it only came to about two inches above my knees, and the blouse was sheerer than any I’ve ever worn as well; you could see my bra and full slip underneath it. It was the same blouse I wore Wednesday morning.

“We stopped at a shoe store and my skirt seemed much shorter when I sat down. The guy who helped me could see quite a lot, and the more he looked between my legs the more excited I got. I can’t believe I’m telling you this now, I can hardly believe it happened but I’m more afraid of holding anything back. Believe it or not, I let my knees move apart until I knew he had a good view of my pantyhose crotch and my panties, and it made me so excited I’m sure my panty crotch was soaked.”

“The more I showed, the bolder he became. When I stood beside him to see how the shoes felt, he caressed my calf muscle and pointed out how the heels made my muscle look more toned. As I looked down into his eyes, he slid his hand up my leg until he touched my wet crotch and gently rubbed back and forth along my pussy until I shook with a climax.”

“I bought two pairs of high heels from him, and Jenny was beside herself when I joined her in the courtyard. She had seen everything and couldn’t believe what I had done. Neither could I. These feelings were coming so fast I didn’t know what to do about them. Things continued at Apex when I let Mr. Armitage look up my skirt and at the tops of my breasts.”

“When I was offered the job, I felt so excited all the way home that Jenny opened the convertible top on the freeway during the commuting traffic jam. She had taken off her blouse and pants before putting the top up so she could get some sun and she looked like she was wearing a skimpy swimming bikini.

She started working on me again to join her and I got so excited by the other commuters who were cheering both of us on that I stripped down as well, only my underwear couldn’t be mistaken for a beach bikini. I’m afraid to admit it Craig, but I actually masturbated on the freeway while three guys in a jacked up 4X4 watched.”

“Since I had already gone that far, it was only a matter of time before things got completely out of hand in the carpool.” By the time I was fully aware of the risks, what was happening probably wasn’t in spite of the risks anymore.” She admitted. “I think maybe it was because of them.”

“Craig,” she said. “You told me on the phone that I needed to tell you ‘everything’ that happened that day, and everything else, but we haven’t got to that point yet and I’ve done little more than answer your questions. I’ve known this time was coming from the beginning and that somehow I was going to have to tell you everything. It scares me that even though you’ve said you could handle it; you won’t like me after you know everything.

I’ve written everything that happened, all the way back to my boyfriend Eddy in high school. It was on the computer, and I’ve printed it all out. It’s very long, but I think it’s the only way I can make sure you know everything and can help me even understand why I’ve done these things.”

She handed me a thick stack of papers stapled into sections and parts. There were well over a hundred pages. And I took them from her shaking fingertips and said don’t worry honey, I still love you. And then I confessed I had already read almost of it. I explained what I had seen the morning of the first day she had been taken to the Landing Strip and how I had searched for answers to questions and in doing had discovered the photos and the word documents on the computer.

“Cynthia,” I said. “I’ve never told you this before, but I owe it you to tell you now, but before I do you need to know that I’ve already read the things you had in the computer up until Wednesday morning. I assume most it, if not all is true, and not just part of a fictional erotic story.” She nodded her head slowly to indicate it was, in fact all too true.

“When I was over the Asian portion of international production and had to travel to often, there were some things that happened that you have a right to know about before we go any further. You remember me telling you about the street hustlers that were always trying to line things up for me?” Again she nodded. “Well, I never admitted that I let them take me to what I thought they were calling a light show, and couldn’t figure what in the world that was. Actually they had all had a little problem with English; it was a live show, where sex acts were performed before an audience.”