Her Blue Dodge Minivan Ch 02

[Author's Note: It's been a long time since I posted Ch. 1 of this story. Sometimes things happen: a child gets sick; a house catches on fire; a spouse loses a job; an elderly relative gets pneumonia. That's life.]

I was thinking with my cunt. That's what kept running through my mind.

"I guess I was thinking with my, my cunt," I said to Alex.

Alexandra Pearson regarded me neutrally. This was our fourth counseling session. It had been three weeks since I told Danny about my affair with Martin Netrebko, three weeks since he'd thrown me out and left me at my parents' house.

They were angry and disappointed with me, to say the least, but they were letting me stay there for the time being. I'd been back to the house a few times to get clothes and things, always when Danny was at work.

We'd only spoken two or three times, on the phone. He was cold, distant, always eager to end the conversation. When I told him I found a counselor and wondered if he'd be willing to come with me, he said, "no way. I'm not the one who ran around on you, who destroyed our marriage. This was your fuck-up, Eileen, you go see if you can figure out why you did it. Without me."

So I'd been seeing Alex alone, twice a week. And for four sessions she'd pretty much listened carefully, without saying too much. Letting me tell her why I was there, what I had done, about Danny's and my marriage, and so on.

"People don't think with their cunts, Eileen," she said now, a little pointedly. "We use our brains.

"I'm not saying that sexual desire doesn't affect our behavior—of course it does. But you've had a good marriage for 21 years. A good, faithful marriage, and a sexually satisfying one for the most part too, from what you've told me.

"So it wasn't your cunt that made you risk all that, it was your brain. It was a decision you made, or a series of decisions."

I nodded, a bit chastened, and we sat a moment in silence.

"When would you say you started disrespecting your husband? Or is it more the case that you've never respected Danny, at least not completely?"

"Of course I respect him!" I said hotly, feeling my face flush. "I respect him and I love him—totally."

"Eileen," she said, looking impatient. "You've told me all about the sex games you and he have played together. According to your own words, Danny made very clear that the fun stopped for him when any other man started to be part of the picture. He didn't like you being groped in the bar, right?

"And he was very very clear with you, on two occasions, that he didn't want to get involved with swinging.

"So, tell me how I'm wrong here. You went secretly to a swinging party behind his back, right? You said you had sex with three men there, including Martin Netrebko. And then you went on to have an affair with Martin that lasted two more months, until you began to think that Danny suspected something. Is that about right?"

I nodded unhappily. I couldn't really disagree with a word she said.

"The issue is respect, Eileen, pure and simple. Danny made his wishes very clear, and you didn't respect him enough to honor them. So I repeat my question: when did you start not respecting him?"

She was right, and I had to think about it. "I guess...that it started when I became friendly with Dennis and Amy—Amy in particular. She's about five years younger than I am, and really sexy and pretty, and so bubbly. She always seems like she's having the best time! And she used to go on and on about sex with Dennis, how great it was, and how much swinging had enlivened their sex lives with each other.

"And I tried to get Danny interested in checking it out, but he just shot me right down—it frustrated me! He wouldn't even really discuss it.

"And then there was that weekend Danny had to be in Chicago two nights for a training seminar, and when Amy called and told me about the party, I guess....

"I guess I just thought, 'to hell with Danny, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, I'm just going to try this once!' "

We sat some more. Then Alex said, "can you honestly claim that your decision was based on sexual dissatisfaction? Were you not getting what you needed from Danny?"

"No," I shook my head morosely. "I love sex with Danny. It's not as exciting as it once was, after 20 years, but he's a great lover—energetic and sensitive, eager to please me. And he's perfectly willing to play games, and try fantasies. He just...doesn't want other men involved, or other women."

"Plus," Alex said more gently, "even if you WERE dissatisfied, you would have owed it to Danny to talk with him about it, not to go find a solution with someone else behind his back."

At this point I burst into tears. Alex wasn't so much saying anything I didn't know, as making all too clear to me how stupid and selfish I had been. I'd given her the rope, she was just showing me the noose.

She waited patiently until I calmed down a bit, and then said, "Eileen, I think it's time you told me about the party. Why you really went, and what happened there."

********************

I sighed, and then I told her all about it. Dennis and Amy had been urging me to come with them for months, and I'd been resisting. But that weekend, with Danny away, I just gave in. Their descriptions sounded so hot! And they kept telling me how swinging had revitalized their own sex life, which sounded terrific to me. I made them swear an oath on their lives that Danny would never know. And they told me that everyone in the group was incredibly discreet—they all had too much to lose if word of their behavior got out.

The ground rules were simple. The parties were for couples, but an occasional single was allowed if sponsored by one of the regulars. Everyone took off their clothes at the start of the night and wore thin robes that were provided by the hosts. Condoms were required for all vaginal or anal sex with anyone but your spouse—no exceptions. And there were no other prohibitions, except no one could be made to do anything against their will.

When we got there I was incredibly nervous, but also excited. We went and changed into our robes, and when we came into the living room there were lots of people milling around, many of them with robes wide open. I saw more naked cocks in the first five minutes than I'd seen in my entire life! And women with their breasts showing, and even a threesome already fucking on one of the sofas.

It was an incredible turn-on just watching, which I did for a few minutes while Dennis brought me and Amy drinks. She kept whispering to me about the men, which ones were well-endowed or had terrific stamina. Then she shocked me! She said, "I hope you'll let Dennis be your first—he's been having the hottest fantasies about you ever since we first met!"

I hadn't imagined that I would...do it with Dennis, but didn't know how to say No without being rude, and a few minutes later Dennis took my hand and led me to one of the private bedrooms.

He was terrible! Amy had gone on and on about what a great lover he was, but it was awful. I was excited but nervous, and he didn't show any patience. We got our robes off and lay down, and he just pawed and slobbered over my tits for a couple of minutes, then he put on a condom, pushed my legs apart and got on top of me.

He has a very thick cock, not as long as Danny's but much wider. I guess he thinks that makes him a stud, because he didn't try anything to please me. Once Dennis got inside me he just pumped away, metronomically, never changing pace or angle or even really paying attention to me. I was just providing a pussy he could masturbate in. After a few minutes I realized I wasn't even excited any more, just bored; and then he sped up and came into me, grunting like an animal.

"God, Eileen, that was fantastic!" he said, smiling at me. "I've wanted to fuck you forever, and I can hardly wait to do it again!"

I couldn't believe it—he thought that had been great! I just smiled at him and said, "me too, but right now I just want to circulate, and see what else is going on." Anything to get away from him!

For the rest of the party I avoided Dennis, though I saw him screwing a couple of other women. I had another drink and just wandered around, finding that watching strangers have sex in public was very weird but very exciting, too.

I was watching a brunette with big fake tits getting fucked from behind by a fat guy, her body bent over a chair, when Martin Netrebko came and stood next to me and smiled. I recognized him from the neighborhood; we had met a couple of times at picnics. We just watched together for a minute, and he started to stroke my back gently through my robe. It felt really good, and I relaxed against him.

After a few minutes I felt ready to go again. I started rubbing his back too, and sliding my hand down to his butt. He quickly got the message, and invited me into one of the bedrooms. Unlike Dennis, Martin was terrific! He took his time with foreplay, using his hands and his lips, caressing my breasts and then eating me out until I came like crazy. Then when we fucked he had a lot of stamina, and lasted until I had come two more times. We did it missionary, and then doggie, which I adore. It was as good as sex with Danny sometimes is.

We lay together for a little while, just cuddling, and I told him how much I enjoyed it. Then we got our robes and went back to the party. I had another couple of drinks, watched some more, and eventually did it one more time, with a tall black man named Earl. Frankly, I was curious about black men, having never been with one. It was OK but nothing special, and by then I was kind of tired.

I went and found Amy, who was lying on a sofa on her side with a guy's cock in her mouth while another guy humped into her from behind, and waited until she was done. Then we found Dennis and they took me home. It was nearly 4 am, and I collapsed into bed and didn't get up until about 1 the next afternoon.

When I got up I felt a little sore, but really good, too. I'd been a swinger, for the first time! Seeing all those strange cocks, and having fucked someone besides my husband for the first time in 20 years, was a turn-on even to think about again.

I knew it was wrong, and I felt kind of guilty. But I also knew that Danny would never find out, and I felt like now that I had tried it I didn't need to do it ever again—that itch had been scratched.

When Danny got home really late on Sunday he came to bed very quietly, so as not to wake me. But I was so eager to see him that I attacked him! I was still feeling sexed-up, and to his delight we made feverish love for nearly an hour. I don't know if it was guilt or excitement or gratitude for having him—but whatever it was, the sex was fantastic that night.

Best of all, the next day we both went off to work just glowing—very happy, very much in love. And I was so relieved that my little ... escapade hadn't hurt us at all.

********************

I sat back and waited for Alex to speak. She'd been listening attentively, and now she said, "and the affair with Martin?"

I shook my head. "I know, I know.... I was such a fucking IDIOT! I'd gotten away with the swing party, and I had to go and press my luck...."

"All that week I'd been feeling terrific. Danny and I were making love nearly every night, and it was as good as it had ever been. I had those sexy memories to tease myself with, and there was something so hot about having those secrets all to myself. Everything was perfect: I'd gotten to try swinging, I'd had one terrific fuck, Danny never suspected anything, and he and I were great.

"I never would have done anything about Martin, though I did think about him. He had been a very good lover, the highlight of the party for me. But about ten days later he called and asked me to have lunch with him.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea, so I refused. But he was patient and gentle, and kept teasing me, saying it was only lunch. After about five minutes, I agreed. I told myself I'd only flirt with him, and we both could enjoy the memory of what we'd done."

I stopped talking, suddenly struck by a thought. "I guess I can see now what I was doing, Alex. You asked me about disrespecting my husband. As happy as I was that he never knew about the swing party, I think it also made me feel a little scornful—like, 'see what I can pull behind your back?' I got away with something, like a naughty kid, and maybe it made me feel like I could get away with more. Or even that since Danny hadn't figured out what I'd been up to, I respected him a bit less.

"Anyway, when Martin and I had lunch we flirted a lot, and at the end of the meal when he asked me to spend the afternoon with him I didn't totally shut him down. I said No, I couldn't, I had appointments that day, but I didn't say I wouldn't ever do it.

"So the next week we had lunch again, this time in the restaurant of a Marriott out in the suburbs. He made sure that we had a drink to start, and shared a bottle of wine. And afterwards when he told me he had a room, I just...went with him.

"We did it all afternoon—twice in bed, and then once in the shower while we were cleaning up. And it was just like the party: Martin is gentle and takes his time, making sure that I'm plenty turned-on. It wasn't as terrific as the first time, maybe, but still mighty nice."

I felt the tears coming to my eyes, and tried to blink them away. "And the part I'm ashamed of is how I kept thinking of Danny. As Martin and I...fucked, I kept seeing Danny in my mind, and feeling so incredibly excited that I was doing this behind his back. That I was doing something so...so fun, so dangerous, something he'd be furious about. And he'd never know.

"I swear, thinking about hiding this was what made the sex so great.

"The worst time for me was that afternoon, at home, the last hour before Danny got home for dinner. I'd cleaned myself up and washed my clothes, done everything to be absolutely sure there was no trace of sex on me. And I felt that wonderful after-sex glow, you know? That terrific feeling of well-being!

"But at the same time I felt guilty as hell. A swing party was one thing, even though I knew Danny would have been very angry. But an affair? Meeting another man for sex in a motel? I knew I'd crossed a scary line, and I didn't understand how I could let myself do that. I still don't, I guess.

"Anyway, I tried with all my might to be normal to Danny that night: affectionate, cheerful, but not too much, nothing out of the ordinary. And thank God, I got away with it! We had a typical evening together; we didn't make love but that was fine with me, I'd had enough for one day. But the next night we did, and it was as good as it ever is."

I paused for a moment, thinking.

"I guess you can figure out the rest. I told myself 'That's it, never again, consider yourself lucky you got away with it, don't press your luck'. And I said No to Martin's next two invitations, even after he sent me some beautiful flowers at work with a note from 'Your Secret Admirer'.

"But after a couple more weeks, when Martin kept calling, I just didn't see why not. I mean, things with Danny were great, he didn't suspect a thing, why not have a little more fun with Martin? I knew it was just sex, it didn't threaten my marriage, and Martin felt exactly the same way. We even talked about it once.

"So I...met him a few more times, had a few more afternoons at the Marriott with him. The sex got a lot less fun, actually. Once I got used to how Martin liked to do it, it wasn't such a turn-on. And as a person he didn't interest me, unlike Danny, so when we were done I just felt like getting out of there.

"I knew it was going to burn out soon, and that was actually fine with me. The magic and fun of the secrecy were pretty much gone. And then..."

I stopped suddenly, and began to cry quietly. "And then...Danny started playing his tricks. Like I told you, he must have moved my car, and I wasn't sure whether it had been moved. And then he stopped being able to, to get an erection. At first I was afraid he was sick; then I didn't know WHAT to think.

"But I was terrified. I didn't see how he could know anything, and he was still acting nice and affectionate. But something was different, and I was scared to death. I called Martin and told him we were finished, and then I just hung on and prayed and hoped that nothing more would happen.

"But Danny kept doing things, like I told you back in our first session—bringing me flowers and seeing the ones from Martin, or asking me about my different shampoo. And then when he told me he'd invited the Netrebkos over for dinner...."

I cried for a few minutes; then I took out a tissue and blew my nose loudly.

"At the time I just thought it was a horrible, unlucky coincidence. But now I'm pretty sure he did it on purpose—he must have found out somehow and was determined to torture me until I confessed. And I did..."

********************

Three more weeks went by. I kept seeing Alex, and getting a fuller understanding of how completely I had destroyed my marriage. Each one of my rationalizations, each attempt to justify or minimize my behavior, utterly fell apart as I examined it more closely. What I was left with was how badly, how monstrously I had screwed up.

I realized that I had to move forward, somehow. For one thing I had to get out of my parents' house. I cried for two days at the thought of finding an apartment, because it felt like the end of my marriage, as big a symbol of "the end" as a divorce decree.

Before I actually moved out, I left a note at the house for Danny in which I begged him to see me one more time, just to talk. I waited two days, then called him, and he reluctantly agreed to talk to me.

It was a disaster! It was the most painful hour of my life, even worse than the morning I confessed to him. We sat in the kitchen, over coffee, and he looked at me silently and coldly as I told him the whole story, all the details that I'd been over with Alex. I didn't spell out everything about the sex, but I made clear that Martin had been a good lover (as opposed to Dennis and the other guy), which is why I'd allowed myself to keep seeing him.

"Alex helped me see what I've done, Danny. This is the truth: I knew it was wrong, I knew it was awful, but I didn't fully understand what I'd done. Now I do.

"I've disrespected you, in a way that's completely unacceptable for any wife to do. I knew how you felt about the idea of me with another man, I wasn't happy with your position, and I simply went behind your back.

"There aren't any words I can offer that make up for what I've done. There isn't anything worse I could have done to us, and it was entirely my doing. I would give anything I have to undo it, but I can't. All I can do is throw myself on your mercy—and tell you that I understand how horribly I've behaved.

"I'm begging you to give me another chance; and I SWEAR to you that I will earn back your trust and respect again, if it takes me 20 years. Just, please, give me the chance!"

I'd been crying during a lot of this conversation, and my words didn't come out as smoothly as I've written them. Danny didn't say anything until it was obvious that I was finished. His face was calm and neutral, though listening to my story of the swing party and the affair with Martin must have hurt him all over again.

What was awful is that he never got angry, never raised his voice. Everything he said came out cool, and distant.

"Thanks for telling me the story, Eileen. It wasn't any fun to hear, but I've been curious for weeks about exactly what went on.

"But I don't see how hearing it changes anything. I understand what you've said, and perhaps I even understand your behavior a bit better—but you still went behind my back to that party, you still cheated on me and lied to me and disrespected me, you still had the affair with that asshole.