It Was Just A Fantasy

In keeping with my style, there is very little actual sex, though the theme is decidedly adult.

If someone had suggested to me before I got married even the possibility that something like this could happen, I would have considered it too absurd to even dignify the comment with a response. I can’t pinpoint the time when the whole situation began to develop. I just had an intuition that something was going on, but I didn’t have any real sense of what it was. The first thing I was actually aware of noticing was that Dan seemed to be more enthusiastic about pursuing, and having, sex. When he would come into the bedroom, he would seem to be kind of ready and more involved. The frequency seemed to be picking up as well. It didn’t take my intuition to tell me that this could be a good thing.

I guess it went on for some time before I noticed anything else. Why would I notice anything else? I wasn’t looking for anything. I was just enjoying whatever it was that was firing him up.

Eventually it dawned on me that he seemed to be in his office before these sessions. His computer was in there. I wondered if he might be getting involved in chat rooms and receiving his inspiration there, from talking to other women. Even though I was the beneficiary, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It’s like cheating in a way. Of course, I didn’t know that he was doing it. I had a mystery and a vague suspicion.

Now in a situation like this, a man would be all over my computer the moment I left the house. Would he seek help? No self-respecting man would ever do that. They have to solve every problem themselves. Women, however, are more evolved. I did what any woman would do. I called my best friend.

“So you think he’s cheating on you online?”

“Well, not exactly cheating.”

“No way. Danny would never do that. I’m not just saying it because of what you tell me about him. I know him pretty well myself. He is the nicest man, person, I’ve ever met. He’s sweet. He’s thoughtful. He goes out of his way to do stuff for you without you even asking. He does nice stuff for everybody, for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“Well.”

“Beth! You’re married to the nicest guy in the world and you’re not happy about it?”

“Sometimes it makes me kind of jealous.”

“Jealous? I don’t understand.”

“He’s nice to everybody. Even people he doesn’t particularly like. He’s nice to strangers. He’ll see somebody on the street who needs help, and he’ll help them.”

“The cad!”

“I know it sounds shallow and petty. But if he does those things for strangers, for people who’ve done nothing to earn it, what does it mean when he does it for me? He isn’t doing it because he loves me or because I’ve shown I’m worthy of him being nice. He just does it because he’s a nice guy.”

“Everybody should have such problems.”

“I know, Cheryl. I’m not proud of my feelings. But that’s how I feel. It’s actually even worse. Just one time I think I’d like to see him do something really bad. Be a son of a bitch or something. Do something really mean to someone else. Hell, I think I’d even like it if he did something mean to me. That would bring him down to a level with the rest of us. It’s like he’s a damn saint.”

“That’s really messed up.”

“I know.” I was feeling really embarrassed and didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just jealousy. I think that seeing Dan as an example of how people could be, how people should be, made me realize that I was deficient. I was too embarrassed to admit that to Cheryl.

She finally tried to cheer me up. “Maybe he is talking to other women online. They get him worked up and then he comes up to you and gives you the benefit of their encouragement.”

“I almost hope so. It would be nice to find at least one chink in the armor. On the other hand, I think I’d be hurt to think he needed other women to turn him on for me.”

“But, from what you’re saying, you would be happy if he hurt you. And if it turns out to be innocent, you’ll be unhappy he didn’t hurt you?”

“I don’t know. I think so. I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

“So maybe Mr. Danny needs help in the bedroom. There’s a weakness.” She said it with delight.

“No. Actually, he’s always been terrific. He’s very patient. Just like he is in everything else he does. He doesn’t even let us get started with him until he’s brought me off at least once or twice. It’s really frustrating.”

“Yeah. Forcing you to submit to all that pleasure. He’s a real monster.”

“Stop making fun of me. I already know it’s ridiculous.”

“So what does he do? I mean to get you off a couple times before he really gets started.”

“That’s more personal than I want to answer.”

“You already told me he gives you multiples before you can even touch him. That’s not personal?”

“No. That’s just another example of his damn good qualities. What we do is personal details. I might be willing to talk about it some other time, but not when I’m feeling so bad about being upset that he’s such a great guy.”

“Only in America.”

“Cut it out, Cheryl. I feel bad enough. So what do I do about his mysterious activities?”

“That depends. Do you really want to know?”

“I think I do.”

“So snoop.”

“Well, but that means I kind of have to not trust him. I mean, am I betraying him by snooping on him?”

“Kind of, I guess. I mean you kind of have to decide which is worse: not knowing what he’s doing or sneaking around his private stuff.”

She had distilled the dilemma. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“So do you have any other serious marital problems we can work on?”

“You can be such a smart ass some times.”

“But you love me.”

“I do.”

“Oh shit! I completely forgot my mother is coming in today and I was supposed to meet her at the airport in 45 minutes. Shit. I can’t believe I forgot. I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss in 10 minutes. What the hell am I going to do? I’m going to have to call the airport and get her a message to take a cab. Shit, shit, shit.”

“Cheryl, you know I have time flexibility here. I can take a few hours and pick her up for you.”

“Oh, God. Would you really do that? That would be so incredible.”

“Of course. In fact, I’m kind of hurt that you didn’t ask me. You know I can move my schedule around.”

“Well, that’s because my mom isn’t coming in.”

“What? You were just messing with me?”

“No. You offered to handle my problem without even being asked. You’re nice too, aren’t you?”

“You, you, I don’t even know the right word.”

“Just say, ‘Thank you.’”

“Thank you.”

Ultimately, I decided that I wanted to know. I am not totally without computer skills. The first thing I tried was Dan’s email. It came up immediately. Not a good sign. If there were anything to hide, he would probably hide it. I read through it anyway. There was nothing of any interest as far as his recent behavior was concerned. I felt pretty guilty reading through it too. Nonetheless, I fired up his Instant Messenger. I couldn’t tell from the nicknames in his buddy list who they were. A message came up.

“Dude, did you see that game Clement pitched?”

Shit. It was as if Dan was online. Whoever was messaging him might ask Dan about it if he didn’t get an answer.

“Amazing,” I typed. I decided to get the hell off before I had to start answering other people. I wasn’t sure that I could answer the way Dan would and someone might get suspicious. Maybe IM wasn’t the way to go right now. I would have to think it through more thoroughly.

If he were visiting chat rooms, it would be in the browser’s history unless he erased it. No. No chat rooms. But he was visiting something called Literotica. What was that, a porn site? Yuk. But it would mean that he isn’t Mr. Perfect. Why does that bother me so much?

It turned out that it’s not exactly a porn site. It looked like he’d been reading stories.

He seemed to focus on stories involving wives committing adultery. Occasionally a husband would be enraged and it would break up the marriage. But in most of the stories, either the husband arranged it or encouraged her. Or, despite being angry and jealous, he would be aroused and allow it to continue. What did this mean? What was it in these stories that would arouse him enough to come up and attack me? Some of the stories he read did have very unhappy endings. Was it adultery that excited him? I started to read some of the new stories in the “Loving Wives” category, the one in which these stories were found. “Loving” seemed a strange word for what these women did.

Reading the stories gave me a better idea of why he would be reading stories with such different endings. You can’t tell ahead of time what the ending will be. The guy is ready to explode in anger. He is going to charge in and beat the other man before he thrashes his wife within an inch of her life and, suddenly, he has an erection. He’s so jealous he could kill, but then all he wants to do is watch and jerk off or maybe join in.

There were so few stories where the men ended up unhappy, that I concluded he must have been reading for the other kind of story. I mean why would you wade through a hundred stories to find one that turns you on?

And the women. The way they were portrayed told me that most of the stories were written by men. They acted like men with female genitalia, ruled by lust, unmindful of the potential consequences. As long as they got good sex, they were willing to throw away their marriages and their children and even their lives. They were thinking with their penises, except that they were women. Is that the kind of woman that interests him? Was he fantasizing about them when he came up to me?

Did he want me to act like that? Was he fantasizing about me cheating on him? I certainly hoped not because I had no intention of doing that. It was unthinkable.

But I thought about it. It repulsed me. But it appealed to me in a way as well. I would never do anything like that. A woman could not act that way if she loved and valued her husband. But maybe it would be all right if I fantasized about it a little. I mean it’s just a fantasy isn’t it? I would never actually bring the fantasy to fruition. Why would this possibly appeal to me at all in any way? The behavior was reprehensible. Perhaps it was appealing because it appealed to Dan and I would do anything to please him.

I’ve read that groups are better at solving problems than individuals; that decisions made by groups are almost always superior to decisions made by the individuals alone. Maybe that research proves the adage, “Two heads are better than one.” I decided to take advantage of Cheryl’s head.

“Hi, Cheryl. I wanted to talk about what’s going on with me and Dan.”

“So you snooped.”

“Yes.” I could probably have said more. I wanted to talk about it and I didn’t.

“You’re not very talkative. Is it bad?”

“I’m ambivalent and I’m confused, so I guess I sound hesitant. Maybe I am hesitant. But I know I’m going to talk about it, so we should just do it.”

“Well, Beth, I really don’t know what to say. You haven’t told me anything, girlfriend.”

“Okay. Here goes.” It wasn’t exactly flowing off my tongue. “He’s reading stories.” This wasn’t easy to talk about.

“He’s what, reading Steel Magnolias and you’re afraid he’s a girly man? What?”

“He’s reading stories about women who cheat on their husbands. They get seduced. Or the husband asks them to do it or sets it up. Sometimes they just decide they need it on their own.” This much I had blurted out. That was actually best, because it would have been torture to try to get it out a little at a time. Cheryl didn’t say anything. I wondered if she too was disgusted with the whole idea. “And however they get to that point, it turns the husbands on that their wives are having other men.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how I feel or what to do. I mean I’m just kind of in shock, you know?”

“I can understand being in shock. That’s kind of a lot to absorb.”

“It’s, I don’t know, it’s, it’s awful. How could any man want his wife to do that? It’s sick.”

“Well, it is strange. I can’t really say if it’s sick. I mean some married people do it without ever seeing each other naked. Some only do it with the lights out. Some won’t do anything but missionary. What I think of as normal, healthy sex, they think of as sick. Some people like to be tied up and beaten. Some like one of the partners to put on a tail and be ridden like a horse. If a guy asked me to play horsey I’d put him out to corral. But it’s pretty hard for me to condemn as sick, stuff other people agree to do with each other.”

“So you don’t condemn any behavior at all?”

“Well, Beth, there is a lot of stuff I won’t do. But there isn’t much I’ll condemn other people for doing. I’ll say this, if I had a guy like Danny, I would never, well, I guess I’m not sure what I’d do. I mean I’d like to do whatever he wants as long as it doesn’t disgust me. But fooling around with other guys is so dangerous that I’d rather disappoint him by declining than risk losing him.”

“But what if he wanted it? What if that’s what’s turning him on so much? Wouldn’t you want to help him enjoy himself?”

“Sounds like you’ve already decided to do it.”

“No. It’s just a philosophical discussion. I mean the idea might turn him on, but it turns me off.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“It does. I have no interest. How could he like something like that?”

“You don’t know that he does. Ask him.”

“Then I’d have to tell him I didn’t trust him and violated his privacy.”

“Beth, just ask him why he’s so worked up when he comes to you. Ask him what is turning him on. Ask him why he wants to do it more often. Tell him you love it and you’re curious as to what it is that has benefited you so much. Don’t guess. Ask him.”

“I suppose I could. It would, I don’t know, spoil any chance of surprising him..”

“So you are thinking of doing it?”

“Of course not.”

But I was. It was perverse but also kind of exciting in a strange way. I was thinking about it, but I wouldn’t do it. It was okay to think about it, wasn’t it?

I thought about it a lot. And it was exciting to think about. It wasn’t the air conditioning making my nipples hard.

Would he admit it? Would it be too embarrassing? Would he come up with some lame excuse for reading those stories? Was it even remotely possible that I could do this for him? No. Maybe. No.

He continued to come up to the bedroom with a great deal of enthusiasm. I continued to dwell on the reason.

It was perverse. It was like being a kid again and being told not to do something. Don’t smoke. Don’t shoplift. They carried a subliminal message. “You want to smoke don’t you? Wouldn’t it be exciting to steal something? It’s wrong, but wouldn’t it be fun?” As a kid, the stimulation to do something wrong could be overpowering. But I was an adult now. That didn’t eliminate the appeal.

Maybe I could be cooled down by the voice of reason.

“What is it that makes this so exciting to you, Beth?”

“I don’t know Cheryl. Maybe that it’s forbidden.”

“It might not be forbidden if he wants it.”

“Yeah. But it’s forbidden by society and religion and most codes of morality.”

“But not by Danny. You did talk to him about it, didn’t you?”

I didn’t answer.

“You did talk to him about it? What are you thinking? You’re going to do this without even talking to him? Are you insane?”

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just thinking about it and finding the thought exciting.”

“Well, if you do it without talking to him, I want first crack at him when he dumps you. You know I’ve been aching to find a guy like Danny. And Danny himself, well, it doesn’t get any better than that.”

I was jealous. Really jealous, almost in a fury over what she had said. It was just a joke, I think. At least the part about first crack at him. I knew that if I weren’t in the picture she would go after him with every fiber of her being. But every part of my body tightened up at hearing those words. If I was this jealous over a joke, how would Danny feel if I cheated on him?

“Too close to home?”

“I just, I never thought about it that way.”

“Perhaps you should. Put aside the fact that you love him. Could you possibly find a guy so kind, so thoughtful, so giving? Forget that he’s an absolute hunk and he’s the smartest guy you know. Forget his sense of humor. Could you find such a great guy? Is there somebody else that special out there you could find if you screw this up?”

“God. The way you talk about him, it sounds like you’re the one in love with him.”

“Would that it could be.”

“You are!”

“That’s a surprise to you. You think I’m the only one? If something happened to you he’d have to hide to keep from being crushed by the crowd. Haven’t you noticed at parties how he’s hit on all the time?”

“No. I guess I’m paying more attention to what I’m doing. Who is hitting on him?”

“Who isn’t? Married, single, relatives of yours. Geeze, even guys.”

“Who? I’m going to tear them apart.”

“What for? He blows them all off. As nicely as it is possible to do. Sometimes he flirts back to make them feel good. But it is clear that he is just playing, and that he has no serious intention of returning their interest. He’s devoted to you.”

“Then why the stories? What’s behind that?”

“Ask him. I can’t tell you.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Maybe? You’re still thinking of doing this?”

“It’s not as exciting since I thought about him with somebody else. No. I don’t know. I’m still confused.”

“I’m not telling you what to do. But just think about what you stand to gain versus what you stand to lose.”

“I will.”

But I don’t think I did. I never believed that what I was contemplating would cause Danny to leave me. He wanted it. How could he be upset? God, now I wasn’t just thinking about it, I was contemplating it. I had gone from repulsed, no way, to it’s interesting to think about, to it’s exciting to think about to contemplating. Each change seemed just a small step. And yet here I was actually contemplating. How many small steps were left before the doing? I have contemplated many things I never actually did.

I wasn’t looking for the next step. It just came naturally. The next step was who would I do this with. Again, I wasn’t really planning on doing it, but it was part of thinking about doing it. I mean, if you’re going to do this, it has to be with someone. Who would interest me? If I were to do this, it would have to be with someone I found appealing. The husbands always wanted their wives to enjoy themselves.

I looked at the men where I work. A few of them were very attractive, but this would be a very bad idea. I didn’t really know what Danny had in mind, but whether this would be a one-time thing or an ongoing situation, doing it with someone I work with could lead to problems. It might get out and I would be too embarrassed to continue working there. The man might want more of a relationship than I was willing to offer. We might get fired. The risks were unacceptable.

Where do I find him then? I’m a married woman. I don’t go out to bars looking for guys. I do go out with the girls sometimes. But what would they think if I met a guy and went off with him? They might be my friends, but I’d quickly get a reputation as a complete slut.

They say a girl can get laid anytime she wants. I don’t think it’s that easy unless you have no fear of everyone finding out and judging you.

This didn’t seem like something I could talk to Cheryl about. She had been pretty clear about how dangerous, she thought this might be. I didn’t think she would want to give advice about how to pick out the guy.

So the next small step was switching thinking from who the guy would be to where I would find him. It could be at the market. It could be at the mall. Maybe in the food court while I was shopping. All of this was turning into a fun fantasy for me. Whether I could actually do it was another matter altogether.