Lessons of Infidelity

"I've been a fool," Trish said. We sat facing each other in a booth in the back room at the campus coffee shop in the late afternoon. Two other faculty couples in other booths had just departed, leaving us alone. Trish had just confronted me with the evidence of my affair --- in my dresser drawer I'd left a little yellow post-it note with a cell phone number in another woman's handwriting, a flowing hand in purple ink. I'd left it buried under my socks and underwear, and had forgotten it was there. "I called this number," Trish said. "Melissa Peterson answered. We had a very interesting conversation. She says you've been fucking her for nearly a year, now, twice a week." I had nothing to say. She was right. Now she stared at me, her face tight with hurt and rage. "All these years I've been faithful to you because I chose to be faithful, not because I haven't had the opportunity to go to bed with other men. Believe me, there's been a lot of times I could have. Maybe I should have." I sensed the threat in her words. She could find a new lover in a heartbeat if she wanted to. Trish was -- is -- a real looker, with a great bod and sexy eyes that can turn sultry when she gets hot. Now, however, her eyes were narrowed with rage. She stared me down.

Suddenly, in my mind's eye, I saw her hugging and kissing another man. She was on top of him. I couldn't see his face, but I saw her tall lovely body rising and falling on him, fucking him, her breasts jiggling lewdly as his cock lunged into her vagina, his big balls hitting her ass cheeks. My imagination went wild. I saw her cunt lips stretching wide around this stranger's fat erection, and I could not look away. I saw his cock pumping into her, now more quickly, in short jerky thrusts, and I could hear her groaning ecstatically as he shot big spurts of semen into her, and it hit me like a kick in the balls. I felt the muscles at the base of my cock clench again and again uncontrollably, and I felt my cock lurching in my pants.

"I know you haven't been paying attention to me," she said, bringing me back from my vivid daydream. "I guess I must have known that you were screwing around. Stupid me. It was right there in front of my face. But now ..." she seemed wistful.

Trish has always had a certain reserve. She doesn't jump into anything. When she decides to do something, however, there's nothing that can stop her. "I know one thing," she said. "From now on we are going to be honest with each other. I've always loved you, and I don't want to hurt you. You've hurt me, and it will take me a long time to get over it. I won't stay with you if you are going to lie to me, fuck other women and expect me to stay faithful. It's not fair. Things have got to be equal between us, starting now. What's good for the goose..."

" ... is good for the gander?" I finished her thought.

She looked at me appraisingly. I supposed she was wondering how I might react if she had an affair. Then she looked away, and I was sure she was thinking about some other man she knew, someone she could fuck just to get even with me. My heart constricted. "Anyone in particular crossed your mind?"

She stirred her coffee slowly, then said, "Well, maybe."

"Well, who?"

"I won't say."

"Are you going to fuck him?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought this through. It might not be a bad thing for you to learn what it feels like when the one you're married to goes off and fucks someone else. But if I do fuck someone else, you'll know it. I won't keep dirty secrets like you. And I don't know what will happen to us."

She told me she was thinking about leaving me, and told me I had to move out. I had to leave immediately. She refused to see me or speak to me for several days. She told me to think seriously about what I wanted from our relationship.

I told her I loved her and wanted to stay with her. I said I'd do anything she wanted me to do to put our relationship together again.

On my own, I spent a lot of that time pondering who she was in my life, and what she meant to me. It sickened me to think she might be tempting herself with thoughts of sex with another man – or other men. I couldn't sleep. That vivid dream flooded my mind whenever I closed my eyes: a big fat cock was plunging into her and she was loving it. Her groans and gasps were echoing in the back of my sleepless brain. I resolved to pay any price to get her back. Whatever she wanted, I would do it for her.

In the weeks following our talk I found myself increasingly drawn to Trish, calling her from work, bringing her flowers, romancing her again like I'd done when we first met. She finally let me move back into our home, and though we still slept in the same bed she kept her distance from me, which made me want her even more.

I began to feel happy, relieved that we were still together, working on healing our damaged relationship. I was discovering that I had been careless and neglectful towards her, but now her kindness and honesty were showing me how to be a better man than I had been.

I didn't ask and she didn't mention whether she was thinking about paying me back for my infidelity. But naturally, I still wondered whether she was planning to teach me a lesson.

Every spring the junior and senior faculty in my department get together for a picnic, complete with barbeque, volleyball, and a bonfire when it gets dark. This year, because I knew Trish loves dancing, I arranged for a deejay in the field house, so we could dance. My buddy Mike Ferrara, who joined the department a year ago, helped me set up the speakers and volleyball net. Mike's a very good-looking guy, well read and musically talented. He knows his stuff academically, and he certainly knows women. I know the female grad students think he's the cat's meow, but so far no one's snagged him. He has a knack for listening. In fact, he was the only one I'd confided in when my affair blew up. He'd been sympathetic to my complaints about Trish, and he understood how I'd found excitement in bed with another professor's wife. "Well, these things happen," he'd said. "You're only human. I just hope you can patch things up with Trish. She's one fine woman. You're lucky to have her."

As darkness fell he danced with all the single women and most of the wives at the party, including Trish. She seemed to be having a very good time while she danced with him, but that wasn't unusual. She always has a good time dancing. I danced with her until I was pretty tired, but she was full of energy.

As she danced with Mike and the other grad students, I was struck with how attractive she was. She had on the pleated red skirt that hugged her shapely hips and flared out at her knees, clasped at the waist with small silver hooks in back, one of my favorites. She was also wearing the sleeveless mauve silk blouse I'd just bought for her, cut low at the neck with the first button down between her breasts, so low that if she'd been wearing a bra it would have shown. But she wasn't wearing a bra. Trish has small pert breasts that don't need support, and she rarely wears one. Even now, nearing forty, she still has the slender figure of a ballet dancer.

Later, as I was taking down the net and stowing the deejay's speakers, Trish was helping me. Mike joined us. They chatted amiably, and as I overheard their conversation I learned that he knew the names of every one of the Sherrells, the Drifters, and every other Motown group she could remember. We've had stacks of 45's stored in box in the closet at home, but I hadn't realized how big a fan she was. They were trying to remember the verses to an old do-wah song I'd long ago forgotten. Mike improvised new verses and we laughed our way through the song, singing doody-waddah choruses for each new verse.

I felt especially happy because Trish seemed more relaxed and happy than she had been in weeks, and mentioned it to Trish as we finished cleaning up. I thought it would be fun to keep on dancing, and Trish invited Mike over to see our collection of 45's. "We can dance all we want," she said.

The three of us sang golden oldies together in the warm evening breeze as we headed home. Our little house on campus was easy walking distance from the field house. I noticed that she was walking right by his side, swinging her hand next to his, brushing against him from time to time. She laughed and sang snippets of song, clearly enjoying herself.

I switched on the lights when we got home, and went to look for our ancient 45 rpm phonograph as Trish sorted through the box of 45's with Mike. They agreeably negotiated a play list from their favorites, and I rolled up the rug. Trish turned down the lights and lit two candles on the side table. I broke open some beers, and the music started. Soon we were dancing on the living room floor. Motown music is all about love: getting it, losing it, yearning for it. And there's always that heavy beat, deep groove, very easy to dance to. A little beer goes a long way, and you can dance until you drop. Trish kicked off her shoes and danced with abandon. She danced with me and danced with Mike, and finally danced with both of us together, because as Mike said, why not?

I noticed that when we were slow dancing, we draped our arms around each other's waists or shoulders, and Trish was pressing her body close to mine for part of the tune, and then did the same with Mike, alternating between us. Our moves were getting more and more sultry. And when we danced to up-tempo tunes she twirled back and forth between us, her breasts bouncing with the beat of the music. Mike's an excellent dancer and he taught us some new sexy moves. I saw how delighted Trish was when he caught her by the waist and scooped her past his body, over his knee with her hair almost brushing the floorboards at the end of a long love ballad. Then he swung her back up, kissed her on the lips, and twirled her away to me. She fell into my arms, and I kissed her too.

Mike flopped down on the couch, breathing heavily. Trish and I continued dancing. I noticed that he was watching us closely. After so many years together, Trish and I knew what to do, and our bodies went through familiar dance steps out of habit. We moved in close, then twirled away, then moved in close again, cheek to cheek, damp with sweat in the low light. Trish was vivacious, her smile bright and her eyes flashing. I had a crazy idea that we were dancing for Mike, putting on a little show of dirty dancing for his enjoyment as well as our own. My hands found her ass and hugged her tight against me. She pressed her crotch back against me. As we danced, I put my leg between hers and made her pelvis ride up my thigh. I could feel her body heat through the pleated skirt. Finally the music stopped.

"Phew! I need to rest!" she said. "You're quite the dancer tonight!" She took a long swig of beer from the bottle on the table, giggled, and flopped down on the couch next to Mike. She patted his leg twice, like you might pat a big dog on the head, "You're quite the dancer, too."

I drank some beer and flopped down next to her, and we three just sat there catching our breath. Another 45 dropped on the phonograph changer, and I noticed that Mike's hand was resting on her bare knee – her skirt was up and she hadn't bothered to pull it down. I was aware that something felt different in the room, with the kissing and dirty dancing, and especially now with his hand casually draped over her knee. She didn't brush his hand away. She was not protesting. He kept tapping a fingertip on her kneecap to the insistent beat of the music. I put my arm around her shoulders and leaned over to kiss her in the ear. I knew she liked that. She let out a long, deep sigh, as if she'd been holding her breath. Then she nuzzled her head into my neck. We stayed like that until the tune ended.

Another song started, slow and moody, with a deep throbbing bass guitar and a steady slow dance beat. It occurred to me that maybe I should stand up with her and dance some more, but instead I kissed her ear again. She turned her face to me and I kissed her on the lips. She responded with a long, open-mouthed wet kiss that sent waves of excitement surging through me. I felt sparks in my groin. My prick began twitching. With my free hand, I cupped her chin and looked into her eyes, but in the dim light I couldn't read her mind. So I kissed her again, and let my hand trail down her neck and over her blouse, not quite yet touching her breasts. She kept her face pressed against my neck and raised her right hand to meet mine, pressing my fingertips with her fingertips, stopping them at first and then slowly guiding them downward onto her breast. My hand naturally moved further down and cupped her breast by habit, briefly, and then I noticed that Mike was watching us. I kept my hand on her breast, and felt her nipple hardening in my palm.

I saw her pat Mike's thigh again, but then she let her hand rest there, delicately. I could see the glint of light in the diamond on her ring finger as she touched him. She adjusted herself so that his thigh and hers were pressed together. I debated with myself whether this was good or bad. Finally I decided to take my cues from her. If it was okay with her, then it would be okay with me.

With slow delicacy, he started tickling her shapely knee, circling her kneecap and dipping lazily down the inside of her thigh, tracing heart shapes on her skin over and over again, each heart shape larger than the previous one. I could see his hand moving, and it hypnotized me. I was unable and unwilling to do anything except watch. Her breath was hot on my neck. I could tell she was responding to his touch. Urgently, she kissed my ear and nibbled my earlobe. Her breathing deepened and quickened a bit as his hand deliberately moved up onto her skirt, pulling it up, rumpling it, uncovering her legs as he stoked her thigh. The crotch of her panties showed pale pink in the low light.

My heart was thumping and my prick was rapidly awakening, spurred by her excitement and also by the sight of his hand confidently going where no one's hands but mine had been before. I closed my eyes and kissed her again, now licking her lips and parting them with my tongue. We were locked in this kiss for what seemed like an eternity. Then she moaned, and shifted her pelvis.

His hand had found her pussy. As I watched, he slipped his fingers down between her thighs, and planted his hand firmly on her crotch. Then he leaned over and kissed her neck. She moaned again as he pressed his fingers into her softness, and her head flopped back and forth. Then she kissed him with passion, moaning as he squeezed her crotch.

I again thought about putting a stop to this, but my body was not listening, particularly since Trish had changed her position so that she was leaning hard into me, even as her thigh pressed firmly against his, and now she was moving her forearm over my crotch, bumping over my suddenly rock-hard penis. She started squeezing my stiffening shaft through my jeans as I watched him caressing her cunt through her silk panties.

I squeezed her breast and found her nipple pouting beneath the thin silk of her blouse. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, the way she likes me to do, and then I found her other nipple and gave it the same attention. I knew this would make her juices start flowing. Mike saw me playing with her nipples, and he smiled at me.

Trish's hand was still resting on his thigh. I watched as Mike placed his free hand on top of hers, interlocking his fingers with hers. Deliberately he took her hand and pressed it firmly onto his crotch. She stopped breathing for a moment, and I knew she'd confirmed that he had an erection too. He left her hand there and resumed stroking her thighs. I saw her left hand begin to explore the bulge in his pants, her fingers tracing his erection, squeezing him tentatively along its length, measuring it. He groaned in appreciation. I imagined what she must have been thinking: two erect penises, one in each hand, two men kissing her, and no one saying no. Surely she was breaking taboos, Part of me thought briefly about standing up and calling for a halt, but just then she squeezed my erection and I groaned. Then Mike groaned again. Her hot breath whistled in my ear, and she laughed softly, deep and throaty. She was rapidly becoming sexually aroused. I knew then that she had decided she would let happen what was going to happen. I could stay and be a part of it, or leave and let nature take its course, but it was plain that she was not about to stop.

Mike shifted his position so that he was facing her, and draped his arm over her shoulders, resting his hand on my shoulder. Now both of us had our arms around her shoulders. Then he brought his other hand over onto her knee again. Her hand, I noticed, was still on his crotch, and then she squeezed my balls again, slowly and lovingly. I kissed her ear and then kissed her neck. Her hand moved away from his crotch for a moment. I nipped her neck just below her earlobe, where I know she loves it, because it drives her wild. She sighed and slowly moved her hand back to his crotch. I watched as she found his balls through the fabric of his pants, squeezing one, then the other, rolling them smoothly and firmly between expert fingers, exactly as I had taught her to roll mine. He was beginning to buck and twist under her hand.

Now he stroked her, his hands roaming freely up and down those lovely legs of hers. He touched her crotch again, drumming her twat with his fingers, almost as if he was knocking at her door. She gasped softly, and reflexively her thighs snapped shut. Then he purposefully moved his hand down her legs, spreading them apart. At first she resisted and pressed her knees together, but after a moment she opened her legs wide and draped her knee over his. She whimpered softly and thrust her pelvis forward. She's giving him permission, I thought. She wants him to touch her.

His hand went straight to her cunt. There was no doubt in my mind that she wanted him there. He was feeling her up her more aggressively now, grasping her cunt with his big muscular hand. She whimpered again and buried her face in my neck, but nothing in that gentle whimper said stop. In fact, she began squeezing my balls in a steady rhythm, pausing occasionally to press her palm along my aching, bursting erection. She grasped my cock and squeezed it firmly, steadily, drawing forth an agonized groan from deep inside me. I heard Mike groaning too, and then we both laughed. Trish grabbed us both by the balls and joined in the laughter. An electric feeling surged back and forth between us, from Mike's balls though Trish to my balls, and back.

I closed my eyes and let my hand fall to her crotch. I knew he was feeling her up, but even so it was a surprise to find a strange man's hand on Trish's crotch, working his fingers into her vulva through the silken barrier of her panties. In the semi-darkness I looked at him and he looked steadily back at me, asking me with his eyes to acknowledge the situation: she had given him permission, and he was touching her. If I was going to object, now was the time. I could see her hand stroking his cock bulging under his pants, and knew what she wanted. Impulsively I put my hand on top of his. For a moment I thought I would brush his hand away, but instead I pressed his fingers into her cunt. I realized I was giving him permission too.

I felt his fingers move to the side and slip under her panties. Now he was touching her directly, his hand on her sensitive skin. I felt his fingers slide up and down her gash. A sharp intake of her breath told me he had found her vagina and had his fingers inside her. I thought, so this is how it happens. I found her waistband and put my hand under it, flat on her tummy, skin to skin. Then I moved down onto her muff. She was sopping wet. Her breathing was ragged, and her pelvis was twitching. I confirmed what I already knew: he was fingerfucking her. I found her clit and rolled it between by fingertips, like I know she loves me to do, and she gasped. Her pelvis thrust forward again and again, and her legs fell wide apart. In less than a minute, Trish was moaning, gasping, bucking and writhing on the couch between Mike and me, her neck arched back and her lips opened into a silent, trembling "O" as her first orgasm overtook her. When it finally subsided, she opened her eyes and looked at me in wonder. I kissed her. She kissed me back. Then she turned to Mike and kissed him.