Be warned. This is a simple little story of sadness and regret. That's all it is and all it was ever intended to be. I just wondered what a BTB story would be like if written from the cheater's point of view and if the cheater had a conscience. I'm afraid that this is what came out. Many will not like it. If you are looking for a rabid BTB or RAAC story, this is not for you.
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God I'm a greedy bitch! What is it they say? I'm too evil to love and too stupid to live? Yeah, that's me, alright. I'm an evil, stupid bitch. I had it all. I had everything I ever wanted and more than I needed, and then one day it wasn't enough.
My name is Bonnie Brown. How's that for a name? I was born Bonnie Betsy Lowrie. My parents had high hopes for me. I married Benjamin Brown. So much for the theory that a name would bring me grace.
I was 38 when I destroyed my life. That's not old, is it? I thought it was at the time. You know, our culture worships youth. You work hard, take your education seriously, get through college with good grades, find a good job, marry a great guy, have a few kids, and just when life is looking good the world turns its attention to someone younger. Actually, it wasn't any one thing in particular. It just slowly dawned on me that the young interns in the office were getting all the attention. Men used to flirt with me. I didn't let them get anywhere, but it was fun. It made me feel sexy and desirable. Then one day I noticed I wasn't getting that attention anymore.
Life had become a series of obligations. More was expected of me at work. My kids needed to be gotten up, dressed, and fed. At night they needed help with their homework. There was laundry to do, a garden to weed, and bills to pay. There were a dozen other things every day. Sure, my husband was there to pitch in. He did loads of laundry without being asked, cooked meals when I was late getting home, cut the lawn, and helped the kids with their homework, but I was the wife and mother. The responsibility was mine! I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Looking back on it, I must have been depressed. Maybe that was it. I don't know. I just know that I felt all these obligations, and my life was stuck in a routine that never changed. I must have been insane! I would give anything, I would give my very soul, to have that life back for just one day. But I can't give my soul because I lost it. I threw it away along with everything of real value that I had.
I was called into the director's office on Wednesday March 5th. Monday after next, the 17th, I had to go to New York for a week of training. It was my company's version of management school and it meant my company saw a promotion in my future. I was moving up!
I went home and told my family. You'd think they would get tired of hearing me talk about the trip for almost two weeks, but it was all I could think about. They were all excited for me. The kids asked a hundred questions and my husband kept telling me I would do great! They were all behind me and they filled me with confidence.
I went shopping that Saturday with Ben's encouragement and his charge card. Ben is my husband. I needed several new suits. There would be socializing in the evenings and I needed some new clothes for that as well. The up and coming from around the country would be there and I needed to make a good impression. They had to know that I was one of them. I wanted to be remembered! Yeah, they remember me alright.
Sunday came. I gave my husband a quick kiss, hugged the kids, and took the shuttle to the airport. The coming week was all I could think about. On the plane I finally realized that I left in such a rush that I spent so little time saying goodbye to my family. I told myself they would understand.
I was staying in the hotel where the classes would be held. I got to my room, freshened up, and found my way around. I didn't know anyone, but I overheard several people talking about the class. I introduced myself and we had dinner together. This was my introduction to Janet, Donna, and Jim. After dinner they invited me to join them for drinks and I felt "What the heck?" This was my week away from my routine. There was a dance floor; and while the music was canned, Jim took turns dancing with the three of us. Ben took me dancing from time to time, but it was fun to be on my own and dancing with someone new. I told myself I wasn't misbehaving, and Jim was taking turns with each of us. It was just dancing, and we were in public. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? As we worked our way through a few drinks, the dancing got closer. By the end of the night I could feel Jim's member against me. I admit I was enjoying it. I was feeling young again, but it was a bit too much. I was feeling guilty, so I excused myself and retired for the night. It wasn't until I was getting into bed that I realized I never called home to tell them I arrived safely, and it was too late then to call.
The classes were interesting, and I was working hard. At night we all met at the bar for drinks. I danced with most of the men, but it seemed I danced with Jim most of all. As the evening wore on, I could feel his member up against me more and more and I was enjoying it. I was feeling young again and what was the harm? We were in public and nothing was going to happen!
The harm came Wednesday night. We had been getting close, too close, and I spent an hour just dancing with Jim. He held me tight, I could feel his erection against me, and I was aroused. I excused myself and went to the ladies' room to dry my panties and when I returned, we found a table to ourselves. You know how this story ends. He kept on working me and I kept on enjoying the attention. I ended up spending the night in his hotel room having sex with a man I hardly new. I should have been ashamed, but I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. I felt young and sexy with my real-world obligations far away. Then just to compound my mistake, I flirted shamelessly with him all Thursday and Friday. We spent Thursday night in my room, ordering room service, and never went dancing. We even managed a quickie Friday after the training seminar before it was time for us to leave. I felt young and wild, like I didn't have a responsibility in the world, and I could do anything! Men wanted me! Women wanted to be me!
At times I would begin to get that slight pang of guilt; but before it could overwhelm me, Jim was there to take my mind off it. He'd smile, touch me, kiss my neck, and my lust would return. Thinking back, he didn't do anything for me that my own husband couldn't do. His dick wasn't exceptional, but he drove me crazy with it. He didn't last any longer than my Ben. His kisses weren't romantic. His voice wasn't soothing. All he did was give me two nights of unbridled passion and a quickie on the way out the door.
Then on the flight home, going back to the life I had made, when he was no longer there to distract me, reality finally hit. I had cheated on my husband, betrayed the one and only man I loved with a man I hardly knew, and I did it without regret. Worse than that, I shamelessly carried on in front of witnesses. Everyone knew what I was doing! How could they miss it? The women weren't jealous of me; they were judging me! In a few days my name would me "slut" in every company office across the country. It was only a matter of time before word of my behavior reached my office.
How was I going to keep this from Ben? He wasn't particularly close to the people I worked with, but he came to the Christmas parties and the occasional backyard cookout. Somebody, sometime, was going to say something and then what would I do? Worse, what if I caught something? I was on the pill, so I never thought of using a condom. I rode Jim bareback for more than two nights. What do they say? I had fucked everyone he had ever fucked. Damn it, I was fucked!
For the rest of the flight I was filled with dread. I felt that my fate was sealed, and it was just a matter of time. My life, my husband, my kids, my home, it was all at risk now. For the life of me I couldn't think of a way to put the week behind me. I didn't even have his cell phone number. He was just a dick to me, a man who wanted me instead of those young interns, and who I could enjoy for a few days without responsibilities. If that doesn't say "Slut!", what does? I had no way to contact him to tell him to keep his mouth shut because I had never wanted to contact him after I left.
From that moment on I was a dead woman walking. The plane was carrying me closer to my fate and I saw no alternatives but to face it and accept the consequences. I thought about telling Ben and throwing myself on his mercy, but what if he couldn't forgive me? I would never forgive me if I were in his shoes. Ben would want to make love when I got home. I'd been away for almost an entire week. I couldn't put him off without hurting him, but what if I'd caught something this week? If I gave it to Ben, he was sure to figure it out. Then I'd be worse than a slut in his mind. I'd be a dirty whore. My heart was racing wildly, and I thought, "Maybe I'll get lucky and have a heart attack." I didn't get lucky.
The drive home was worse with every mile. I was taking myself to my own execution and I had no way to stop it.
I walked through our front door, hoping it would still be our front door, to the shouts of "Mommy's home!" I was mobbed by three children who threw their arms around me and a husband who covered me with kisses. Everyone was smiling and they all wanted to hear about my week, what I saw, what I did, and what was it like? I almost broke down right there and wept, but I held it together. What did I do? How could I tell them what I did?
I looked from child to child and saw nothing but love. My husband was beaming at my return. Everyone was so happy to see me, and I was showered with love from all directions. I didn't deserve any of it. I had betrayed them all.
I put on a brave face and I told them all about the course. I told them about the meals. I described all the sights and sounds of the city. I left out the adultery. I left out how I carried on in front of everyone. I left out my betrayal of them all.
From that evening on I lived in panic that I would be found out. Ben wanted to make love and I couldn't say no without arousing his suspicion, so I gave myself to him in the bed we'd shared since our wedding. I told myself that Jim wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't the type to go to prostitutes. No, he just fucked married sluts like me. I told myself I was sure he was clean. I made up my mind to be the best, most loving, most affectionate wife that ever lived. I was determined that if Ben ever learned of my crime, his love for me would overwhelm the anger and hurt and he would forgive me. I forgot one thing.
It was four months later, and I was starting to think that I'd gotten away with it. I would never do it again. I would never betray Ben and the kids that way. I would be the perfect wife. I came through the door, happy to be home, ready to prepare dinner for the family. The house was quiet. There were no voices, no activity, none of the chaos that I had once taken for granted. Instead, there was only Ben sitting quietly in a chair, dejected, his head hanging, with tears on his cheeks.
