Discovering Sin

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 order, click on the author link and refer to the posting date.

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Part I, Craig knows – His perspective

The reader's comments range from love to hate so I know the characters are far from neutral. If you don't like them, don't read. If any of you have suggestions or comments, feel free to speak. A little hate at times in this story is appropriate and what I expected, but I still think there's a lot more in the main characters to love.

For those of you who have been following Cynthia's story, you already know me, at least to some degree; I'm Craig Jamison. You know we have been married for eighteen years; what you don't know is that, until the last month or so, Cynthia has always fit the criteria of a perfect wife, mother and friend. She has always been dedicated to the happiness of everyone around her and a totally selfless person. In large measure, that's what makes the events of these recent weeks so unbelievable.

When we got married we knew enough families in and out of our church group, whose lives had been splintered by the rebellious attitude of one family member, to not realize how difficult a troubled child could be, or how hurtful it might be to us if one of our precious daughters went over the edge and ended up in illegitimate pregnancy.

Cynthia and I agreed unequivocally, and made a binding pact that in no event, no matter what the circumstance, nothing would be allowed to cause us to forsake the love we had for any member of the family; even if that struggling member turned their back bitterly on the rest of us, the door would always be open, and our hearts would always welcome their return. This commitment was absolute and without any reservation to everyone in the family.

It goes without saying that 'everyone' included Cynthia and me. She was upset if I even remotely considered the possibility she could ever turn her back on our love and violate our vows of fidelity. I explained that I thought there was always a possibility that someone could be thrown a curve in life and that as far as I was concerned a breach of sexual fidelity would never be as painful to me as emotional infidelity would.

I remember when she asked me what the hell I meant by that. I explained that if something unexpected happened or if flirtation got out of control so that she actually had sex with someone else, it wouldn't hurt as bad as it would if she fell in love with someone else, or out of love with me. She said that she didn't know if she could agree and thought she would be hurt equally either way. Even so, I reiterated that, I would never turn my back on her in either event. "You'll never have to." Is all she would ever say.

From another perspective, I have worked in enough roles involving sales that I have been through most of the motivational material available, and the one simple truth concerning mental attitude that has always made the biggest impression on me is that we all have ownership for the things we feel. No one can make us happy or make us sad against our will. Each individual has to make a conscious decision whether to allow hurt, pain, happiness or misery take up occupancy in their hearts and minds.

I came to the conclusion long ago that negatives like hurt, pain and misery could serve no beneficial purpose in my life and only posed risk to my own mental health, so I lived with the conscious decision to always do everything within my power to look at life from a positive perspective, and make sure I and those around me learned and grew from every experience, pleasant or not.

It was nearly two AM on Wednesday morning when I felt Cynthia slip into bed and snuggle up to my back. Almost tentatively she moved a cautious arm around me to hold me close. I felt her body quiver and shake slightly, like she may have been sobbing softly. It didn't surprise me; I sensed deep emotion and knew she was locked in deep emotional torment.

Early in the morning, of the day before, I had watched Cynthia prepare for work. She looked more beautiful than I had ever recalled as she dried herself after her shower. Her skin was flawless and smooth. She took such good care of herself there was very little evidence that she had carried and delivered three beautiful full sized babies during our early marriage. She was just 19 when we married, and Troy was born just after her 20th birthday. He was now almost 18. Cynthia's complexion was fair and she didn't like to tan much. Her hair was a rich and black and when she wears it short she looks like a delightful pixie, when it was longer I thought she looked a lot like Marie Osmond.

We had eaten a hurried breakfast before she got in the shower and she was rushing to apply her finishing touches in time for the arrival of her car pool. She had been exited and alive ever since she went back to work and was becoming more uninhibited and sexually expressive every day. The changes were coming so quickly and her enthusiasm for sex was increasing so much, I had become suspicious that something was increasing her interest and libido outside of our marriage.

As I became aroused at the sexuality that seemed to exude as she prepared to leave, I wanted more than the perfunctory kiss she offered when we heard the sound of the horn announcing the arrival of her carpool. I held her longer than her impatience wanted to allow and she struggled slightly as she said. "Hey tiger, I'm not leaving for ever." She smiled and patted my hardness. "Keep a good thought until tonight." She said and then she was gone.

She had dressed conservatively as always wearing an attractive peach colored stretchy jersey type dress. She surprised me by choosing a red lace bra and matching bikini panties but then, surprise from Cynthia was no longer unexpected. In the past, she only wore things like that under darker clothing or when romance was on the agenda. She still pulled on her traditional sheer pantyhose and her legs looked gorgeous, in fact, I have always thought her legs were her most striking feature. They were long and perfectly proportioned and she had the perfect shaped knees of a professional dancer.

I had seen exotic dancers and I thought as I looked at her legs that a true leg man could cum just from concentrating on them alone, especially when she wore high heels. She surprised me again by slipping on black patent leather 5 in high heels that I had never seen before. I knew they would add exiting definition to her toned calf muscles. You could see a hint of her bra and panties beneath the peach colored dress and it made my prick stiffen as I looked at her.

The main light in the bedroom was off and I couldn't resist going to the window to watch as she hurried to the car. Our house has multiple levels and the Master bedroom is slightly elevated from the front door and further away from the drive. I watched her back as she walked with a lightness in her step that showed her excitement. The car was backed part way into the drive on an angle to the street. From my elevation, the roof was little more than a blind strip that separated my view above the line and below at the far side rear passenger door. I could clearly see above the roof as well as into and through the window nearest to me.

Cynthia was directed to the opposite side, but whoever was already in the rear seat was almost on the other side already. When the door opened, a man's body partially blocked my view, but not so much to hide the obvious action of his hands and arms going beneath the hem of my wife's peach colored skirt and up to her waist as he took hold of the waist band of her pantyhose and panties and pulled them all the way to the ground. I was shocked and expected Cynthia to scream and slap his face.

She seemed to make only symbolic protest as she tried to push him out of the way so she could get in. He shushed her and she froze as his hands went back beneath her dress and she allowed him to freely roam over her naked body below her waist. I saw her throw her head back and close her eyes tightly in arousal as he explored everything he wanted to under her dress. I could see him lean toward her as his arms went behind to apparently un-hook her bra and then come forward to massage her unrestricted breasts.

I could see her naked legs apparently spread wide to allow him access to her pussy as he moved a hand down to caress her nakedness. Then both hands came out again and he partially stood as he reached to her shoulders. There he gripped her peach colored dress and the shoulder straps of her bra as well and pulled her remaining clothes off and all the way to the ground. She howled in arousal loud enough for me to hear in my bedroom and shook as she kicked her clothes off and dived into the car naked across his lap. He reached down and retrieved her clothes and closed the door quickly as the car sped from my driveway.

I stood there in shock, wondering why I hadn't had the presence of mind to rush from the house and rescue her from this assault but then I realized I was the only one disturbed by what had happened. Way in the back of my mind I had already imagined this scene as I tried to understand the changes I had seen and I realized as I stood there this nameless passenger who had stripped her without resistance probably had his stiff cock already buried deeply in the sacred womb I thought I had exclusive claim on.

It was an erotic scene, and like any scene that portrayed such raw sexuality, in spite of the terrifying consequences implied for me and the woman I loved, my cock was as hard as it would have been if I had witnessed the scene with a cast of strangers. I sat down on the bed and as my mind tried to deal with moving from the scene just played out, to the weighty question of how I was going to define the course and direction of my life from here on; emotion started to take possession of me until I hung my head in my hands and cried in what I thought was a very un-manly way.

The noise of my emotion led to concerned pounding on my bedroom door that yanked me from my hurt. My daughter Wendy, sensing something terribly wrong, was asking through the wooden panel. "Are you all right daddy?" I choked back my emotion and told her I was, that I just didn't feel well and had thrown up. "Don't worry honey, I'll be fine." I said to her, then added, quietly and mostly to myself that we would all be all right, and I knew somehow at least our splintered family would survive, what I didn't know was whether Cynthia would still be a part..

Like I said, I came to the conclusion long ago to refuse to let negatives like hurt, pain and misery control my life, so you see, I could not, for my own sake, afford to allow the hurt I was be feeling at the moment close the door on my life with Cyn and the love I had legitimately felt for her without a serious fight and effort to learn. I had loved her honestly and we had shared too much good in life with each other; I could not, in reaction to pain, evict her from my life without loosing an important part of me as well.

In spite of my resolve to find a way to go on, I new that my effort to keep the door open wouldn't necessarily keep Cynthia from choosing on her own to leave. At the same time, if she stayed, I was not ready or interested in simply becoming a willing cuckold to a promiscuous and adulterous addiction. Relationships inevitably change, that's the essence of growing and learning. I felt sad as I wondered at what point in time had I become complacent and stopped trying to make our intimate life flourish with new growth and imagination?

I had always been committed and dedicated to make sure sex was a satisfying and pleasurable for Cynthia. Her pleasure was more important to me than my own and I'm certain that her honesty hadn't permitted her to fake orgasm or pleasure. I can honestly say, I don't have recollection of a single sexual encounter between us in our entire marriage where I failed to bring Cynthia to a climax.

Were the orgasms as fulfilling as I had imagined them to be, all couples seem to go through periods of complacency, obviously I had failed to see needs that were not being met?

The only personal regret I ever had in Cynthia's performance was that she had always seemed reluctant to take initiative and be a seductress, at least before this last month. She had always claimed to be uncomfortable in sexy lingerie and normally shied away from the high heels I loved. They made her legs look more exiting and brought sexy tone and definition to her lean legs. I would have enjoyed seeing her in shorter skirts and dresses, but modesty was a firm tenet in our church, and she said she had a responsibility to set a proper example for our daughters, who continually tried to get away with the shortest skirts we would allow.

You know the old adage that a wife should be a saint in the kitchen and a sinner or whore in the bedroom; I could never get the message across that I wanted to see her in a more seductive role as often as possible. For years, Cynthia took very little initiative to try to address my sexual needs but she was perfect in all others. She would agree to wear sexy lingerie when I bought it for her but she acted unnatural and uncomfortable so it usually ended up disappointing for both of us. Sometimes she acted like it made her feel almost funny and amusing, which was opposite from the erotic effect I hoped for.

When I tried to be spontaneous or add surprise and risk through danger or exposure she became visibly aroused and passionate during the experience but seemed anxious to put it behind her and wrap up her conservative persona once she had reached a climax. Usually the orgasms she had when I pushed her into uncomfortable territory were especially intense but she was reluctant to leave the impression she had really enjoyed them and wanted more, and I was reluctant to make demands I felt were selfish on my part if she wasn't enthusiastic.

This is why it was confusing and hurt when I saw her interest in sex emerging almost in secret especially when she tried to keep it hidden from me. The sex between us was becoming much more frequent and she was developing the uninhibited interest in sex I had always dreamed of and had tried in my clumsy way to inspire, but somehow I seemed to be excluded from the source of her inspiration.

I was realistically worried that Cynthia may have at least fallen in lust with someone else and already decided, on her own, to take a different path, because I had failed to identify what she wanted and needed in the way of excitement and sexuality. If I would have seen it, we may have easily incorporated showing off and danger in our sex play and found the excitement we both wanted to experience. Now the stakes had been raised, adultery carries with it its own compelling addiction, and divisive challenges.

Cynthia's sexual evolution had crossed the line from erotic teasing, fantasy and exhibitionism to complete sexual expression in raw adulterous lust where the emotions and hungers become so compelling and intoxicating they can make a person willingly put at risk everything including life itself. This incredible intensity was in itself my greatest challenge or obstacle to salvaging our life together.

Adultery can easily pit one mate against the other unless both agreed to share their lives with others and open up their marriage. In reality an open marriage continually puts the prospect of future together at risk and I for one didn't relish that idea or that either of us could potentially become lost as Mr. or Mrs. Wednesday, Thursday or Friday night. Hell, I still liked the idea of exclusivity and commitment with my wife and didn't even know if I could handle sharing, and I certainly wasn't sure if Cyn could ever settle down with me alone again.

Another issue I had to deal with was the perverse stimulation that ironically can come in the presence of jealousy and even rage. Ultimately I knew I had to learn more about Cyn and my own feelings and that in the end, nothing would work between us again until a balance with equal parity could be achieved.

I was sick and broken and needed to find out more before I did anything else. I went down to the kitchen to make sure everyone was prepared for their day and said goodbye to all the kids. Wendy said she hoped I was feeling better as she kissed me on the cheek, and then they were all gone. I was in no way prepared to take on duties at work so I called in and left a message for my assistant that I was sick, and that I would be at home if an emergency came up.

I went back upstairs and started to look through Cynthia's drawers for any evidence that may shed light on what was happening. All of the clothing looked like the normal conservative things she always wore. Tucked under her lingerie at the back of her drawer I found a standard sized white envelope and pulled it out to look inside. As I opened it more than a half a dozen photos fell out onto the floor. I picked them up one by one and the energy left me again as I slumped to the floor and leaned against the bed.

I examined each of the photos that showed Cynthia's aroused eyes looking directly at me as she sat obscenely in the back seat of a car. They showed her progressively exposing her body until her legs were spread and her pussy lips looked open, swollen and red like she had been thoroughly fucked. The next picture showed her holding a large rubber dildo as though she worshiped it. One showed her inserting the tip into her obviously aroused opening, another with the rubber cock just barely showing and another with her finger pushing the end of it all the way inside.

The eye contact made it look like she was playing for and to me directly as though she were trying to show me how wicked she was. I sat, still in shock, but inevitably effected by the erotic scene. I hated myself for being aroused by the photos that were taken for that very purpose. I secured the photos in the order that made sense, and carried them from the room.

I went down to the den and turned on the computer wondering if there was something there that would show me more. Cynthia had been spending a lot of her spare time working on some kind of project that I thought was work related, but now I wondered. I turned on the computer but found the user profile with her name on it had been secured with a password. I opened my own profile and launched windows explorer. Even though she had locked her profile with a password she hadn't secured her document files from public view and I was able to open one of several large word processor files she had stored there.

Nothing looked suspicious at first; some things to do with Church. I noticed a sub file labeled 'Life', and opened it up. There were quite a few word documents that all referred to Cyn this or Cyn that and I thought it may be an abbreviation for Cynthia. I opened the one with the earliest stored date. It was titled 'Cyn' for short, and I started to scan through it. In her own words, she said it was an effort in part to explain to herself, or to me, what was happening in her life, and maybe why.