The Dilemma

OK, so I'd better give you some backstory, or else I know I'm going to come across looking like a dickhead. Well, you may end up thinking that anyway but some context is important. My name is Paul and my wife is Vanessa. We met at college and, after getting together, realized we were madly in love and couldn't bear to live without each other. 'My little Italian firecracker' I used to call her. Just five foot tall but with serious attitude, she always had an opinion, always able to surprise me with a hilarious comment or by doing something goofy. I thought she was beautiful the first time I saw her, not just hot, or attractive, but genuinely beautiful. Dazzling big brown eyes, jet black hair, full lips and olive complexion. Of course she had a boyfriend, no wait, a fiance. I never understood it though. He was a few years older than her and perhaps when she was younger the appeal of an older guy with a full time job and a nice car was appealing but by then, I don't know, I just never saw it. We were not close but we ended up at the same parties every now and then. I would usually end up talking to her and it felt so natural and flirtatious but I never felt like it was going anywhere. Then I heard from a friend of a friend "So you know Vanessa and Brad split up?" and I did

not

know but I was very interested. Normally you would just send a text but back then I actually called her. I don't know where I got the nerve to do something like that but there you go.

"Hey, are you doing OK?" I asked.

"No," she sobbed.

"I can come over if you want."

Silence for perhaps 20 seconds. The longest and most brutal silence of my life. "Yeah, OK."

I know what you're thinking but no, I didn't sleep with her that night. I liked her too much. It killed me not to though. We were talking and touching and it was going to get physical and I just backed off and told her that I really liked her, I mean

really

liked her, and if we were going to be a thing then I would need her to be certain she was over Brad and was ready to make us work.

Well, I didn't hear back from her for 3 weeks. 3 fucking weeks. I called her twice in that period and she didn't answer either time and I assumed she wasn't interested.

I should have slept with her

I thought. No, it probably just would've messed me up. I really wasn't a one night stand guy. I have nothing against it as a lifestyle but I prefer to feel comfortable with someone while I'm naked, not worrying about sneaking out and avoiding ever seeing each other again.

So that was it, the end of my story. No,come on, of course we saw each other again. I bumped into her at the train station of all places. I was catching the train that she had just disembarked. I did a double take and then suddenly we were looking at one another in a trance. She looked like she wanted to talk but I had to get this train. I did some kind of stupid looking gesture to indicate my predicament and she put a thumb to her ear and her pinky to her lips. Call her? Absolutely! I did an exaggerated nod like an imbecile and boarded the train. I sat down and pulled out my phone. Wait. Did she mean call her now? She must have meant later. By the time I called I got no answer.

Another week and then

she

called

me

. She wanted to meet up for a drink. We met for the drink. The drink became two drinks, then three, then four then back to my place and, yeah, that's right. We talked, we kissed, we had sex. It was amazing and we never looked back. Within weeks we were that couple that everyone rolled their eyes at because we were just 'too cute'. I adored her and she adored me. We got married, both aged 25 by that time. We struggled financially for a few years but when things settled down we had our first child, and then another, and another. They are the greatest part of my life. Hell no, they

are

my life, as any parent knows. But also, as any parent knows, the thing that I always believed would never happen to us, happened to us. We started to lose the spark. I swear it began the moment we found out she was pregnant with our first. Yes, that exact instant. She put her hand to her perfectly flat belly and looked at me, but the look wasn't love for me, it was love for our

family

. Once she was pregnant then sex would 'hurt the baby' then after birth it would 'wake the baby' then it would, well, I don't know, you think of an excuse and she used it. The fact is, sex wasn't important to her anymore unless it was to make more babies. It went from being something fun and romantic to something functional and mechanical.

Yes, I know, every couple goes through this. I am not the only man to get fed up with masturbating in the shower when he has a beautiful, sexy woman in the room next door but knowing that didn't stop the burning I felt for a sexual connection like we used to have. Now, you're fairly smart, I'm sure you've figured where this is going but I swear I tried everything. And it was always

me

trying, as

she

did not seem to think there was an issue at all. As far as she was concerned, a sexless marriage was fine, it was normal, it was just...marriage. But it wasn't enough for me.

"Do you have any fantasies?" I asked one morning.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Dressing up, BDSM, blindfolds, anything."

"Hmm, my fantasy is for you to shut up and make me a coffee."

One night she came home from work and I had made sure the kids were with their grandparents. I had scattered rose petals and lit stinky candles, you know the score, all the stuff that women say makes them feel sexy. I had even cleaned the house, run the dishwasher, done the laundry, washed the sheets. I had done everything possible. She walked in and said "Where are the kids?"

"At my parent's house."

"Why?"

"Well look around you. I thought we might-"

"No, no no. They haven't protected that stone fireplace yet. That thing is a deathtrap. I'm going over there right now."

She left. She walked out and at the exact moment the door slammed I decided I would not feel guilty if 'something happened.'

Something did happen of course. It didn't happen because it just happened, it happened because I wanted it to happen, even if I didn't specifically try and make it happen. I think we've all had workplace crushes, right? You spot her from the other side of the room and you just think she's pretty. You watch her every now and then but you rarely speak with her, but then when you do speak your tongue gets tied and you sweat like you're a teenager again. I'd had a few of them but they usually dissipated after a few weeks. Sometimes the girl was actually rather irritating, or she wasn't as attractive as I had first thought, or she moved to a different department. But for this one woman, none of those happened. Her name was, and still is, Malissa. No, that's not a typo, that's how it's spelt.

She was just so confident and forthright. I had never met anybody quite so bold in all my life. When she said something it made you believe that it was so, even if it wasn't. Like she would say "Daniel from marketing is so incompetent" and it would just make you go "Yeah, he really is," even if you had no idea who Daniel from marketing was. I was drawn to her for a number of reasons.

Firstly, she was just so much fun to be around. Work was typically an 8 hour delay before I got to be with my kids. Suddenly it became kind of fun. We would tell jokes to each other and play silly games, like the 'you have to draw something badly but good enough for somebody else to guess what it is supposed to be' game. It's silly, I know, but such things can make work more bearable.

Secondly, I enjoyed the flirting. It had been so long since I had allowed myself to do it. At first I was a little shaky but soon it was natural. A touch here and there, a smile, a laugh at an in-joke.

Thirdly, and probably most importantly, she was sexy as hell. She had a great body and she always showed just enough of it through how she dressed to keep me guessing what else was under there. She just had a sexy demeanour if that makes sense. Everything she did was as if it were designed to lure me in.

Once, I mentioned her name to my wife, just to test how comfortable I was talking about her as just another friend, expecting to be cool, acting like she was just one of my workmates. It failed. As soon as I mentioned her name I felt instantly nervous, like I had betrayed Vanessa simply by mentioning her. But nothing had happened, I hadn't done anything, I had nothing to feel guilty about. Well, not yet anyway.

When it happened, it happened quick. I mean really quick. Too quick for me to really think about it, otherwise perhaps it wouldn't have happened at all. We had a meeting in another building which was nothing extraordinary. After the meeting, we would normally go to our cars and drive back across town but this time was different. Malissa was showing me a dumb video on her phone that wasn't even very funny. She kept telling me it

was

funny and I just didn't get it. Then her phone turned off. "Out of battery," she said with a grimace. "Come on, I'll charge it in my car and make you watch it until you laugh."

So suddenly I was in her car in a quiet parking lot watching this video. "It's not funny," I said.

"Yes it is," she pleaded. "Watch it again."

"I'm never going to find it funny."

"That's because you've a got white person sense of humour," she teased.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes it is," she said. "You need to spend more time with me. I'll make you laugh." She found another video. "There you go." I watched and pulled an unamused face. "Have you ever dated a black girl?" she asked.

"No," I replied coyly, as if that somehow made me a close minded person.

She laughed and grabbed my hand. "Oh sweetie, you just went red as a..." she thought for a word but as she did so our eyes locked and within a second we were kissing. There was no starting slow then a gradual increase in passion, no, it was just passion from the start. Our tongues twisted around each other, our hands felt one another's bodies. I explored her breasts and her thighs. I got nervous and thought I was being too forceful but she disagreed and grabbed my hand and slid it to her crotch. I excited her through her pants and she gasped, releasing me from our kiss. I kissed her neck then down to her buxom breasts. I kissed what I could see of them but she grew impatient and, glancing out her window, pulled her breasts out of her blouse. I sucked on her large black nipples and felt a heat through her pants. She unzipped my fly and pulled out my erect penis, gripping it firmly. Before I knew it, her lips were around it and I was pushing her head up and down, feeling the glorious touch of a woman's oral lust for the first time in years. She moved eagerly over it with her tongue before thrusting it back down her throat. I could feel it happening already. I tried to think of something else, something banal, but then I just thought

what the hell, enjoy yourself

and I closed my eyes. The warm saliva lubricated her movements up and down, fast then slow, then fast then slow. I lost it and I gripped her hair.

"Oh God, oh God."

She kept going. That was her clear signal to me that I had permission. I groaned and let the climax come in all its excitement and its raw ecstasy. I leaned back and released the full load while Malissa's mouth still covered my penis. She still moved up and down, up and down, as if nothing had happened. Finally she slowed her movement and swallowed. She kissed my dick as she withdrew her mouth from it and looked me in the eyes with a lustful, knowing stare. Her look said 'this wasn't a one off.'

Her look was right, it wasn't. After a couple of days of awkwardness we started to make every excuse we could find to be alone together. In the car, the disabled restroom, the abandoned meeting room. Then it was a hotel room one weekend. Then a hotel room every weekend. Suddenly I had told my wife I had joined a bowling team and Malissa had now become my only sexual partner. It was an affair and it was serious.

Now I know what you're thinking, especially if you're female. I really did still love my wife. I really did, so much. But she was my best friend now, not my lover. And I really did try. I even booked a marriage counsellor one week, after she had put it off, saying "we don't have a problem, we're fine." I had my shoes on, ready to drive there before she said "Oh, I didn't think you were serious Paul. No, I'm not going. You can go though if you want."

I didn't go. I said I did, but I went to fuck Malissa instead, and I did it with a little hatred in my heart. But soon the affair was not an affair any more. Instead of fucking, sometimes we watched a movie instead, or cooked together, or played backgammon. I'm serious, we played a lot of backgammon. Suddenly I had two lives. I had my kids, who I loved with all my heart, who I loved being with and watching grow up, and then I had Malissa. Yes, I still loved Vanessa, but not as a lover any more. She was a wonderful mother and a great friend but we never had sex. It had been 6 months since the last time we had sex before that first time in the car with Malissa. 6 months. After a while you just don't bother asking any more, you don't even bother dropping hints, you just walk quietly to the bathroom and tug yourself off instead. Many times I imagined fucking my wife while I masturbated because I really did want to, but she denied me of that pleasure. My point is that I tried to make things wok with her, and I never tried to hurt her. That won't be enough for some people, I know, but I did try. And you know, I would never invite another woman to our home, ever. There are worse guys than me out there, believe me.

So that was my life until Malissa blurted something stupid out one day over dinner. "I love you," she said with a smile. I confess I panicked and didn't say anything in response. There was no right answer to this. Did I say 'thank you' or 'me too' or simply run away? I had no idea. She placed a comforting hand on mine. "It's alright Paul, I know you can't say it back. But I would like you to one day."

What did that mean? One day? Did I love Malissa? I had never really thought about it before then. I loved spending time with her and we were passionate and perfectly in tune with one another, but love? Maybe. It wasn't the same as it had been with Vanessa. But my love for Vanessa had changed to a platonic love, a love that allowed us to be great parents and enjoy each other's company without any kind of sexual attraction. I still loved her very much, but if my kids weren't at home, I would rather spend all my time at Malissa's house.

So the ball was rolling. I thought about it a lot and we talked about it a lot and before long we were talking seriously about moving in together and me divorcing Vanessa. I wondered whether she would even care, whether she still loved me. She said it, but it never sounded like she meant it any more. She would say "love you" as she walked out the door but it was the kids she would kiss and hug and squeeze and show her love for, not me.

How would my kids take it? That was the toughest part. Would they hate me? Would they hate Malissa. Would she become the woman that destroyed their parents' marriage? That ripped their home apart? Were they all to young to really understand?

I sat at home watching TV and wondering how I would do the deed that needed to be done when, out of the blue, Vanessa walked over to me and put an arm around me. "When the kids are tucked in tonight, do you want to...?"

"Want to what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You know." She kissed my cheek and stared at me.

"You mean?"

"Yeah."

She walked off and left me in dumbfounded shock. She wanted to have sex? Now? After a fucking year she just blurts it out, as if we've been screwing the whole time and this was no different to any other night. I was sweating. What would I do? Suddenly it felt like sleeping with Vanessa would be cheating on Malissa. The idea was bizarre and I laughed out loud. I was going to cheat on my girlfriend with my wife. It was preposterous. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't betray Malissa like that. This whole time the relationship had worked because my sexual relationship with my wife was defunct. It was accepted that we slept in the same bed but never showed affection, and Malissa trusted me on that basis. What now? I couldn't sleep with Vanessa. I would have to make an excuse. It would serve her right anyway wouldn't it? If, after all those time being rejected, I rejected her instead. So I did. I told her I was tired and I went to bed early even though I was not tired in the least. It didn't feel as good as I thought it would because I could tell she was hurt. I wondered how she had done that so many times to me over the years without feeling the same shame.

The next night she tried again and once more I made an excuse. Then during the night she tried to wake me up by touching my dick and I rolled over, ignoring the pleasure, and she relented, disappointed.

I did not tell Malissa of my wife's sudden change in mood. As far as she was concerned, our plans were the same. In a few weeks we would move in together and I would tell my wife I wanted a divorce. But now I was torn. If Vanessa wanted me again, did that change anything?

No

, I thought to myself. It's too late now. Perhaps she was only doing this because she had found out about the affair, because she was jealous.

That night was bowling night. Well, to my wife it was bowling night. To Malissa and I it was business as usual. I got a text as I walked through my door after work. 'Bowling tonight?' it read, from Steve. 'Yes, she you later' I replied. Our charade was well rehearsed by now. I looked up and my kids weren't there and the house was quiet. That was strange. "Hello?" I called.

"Hey," Vanessa shouted from the bathroom.

"Where are the monsters?" I called.

"They're at my dad's," she called back.

"Why?"

She did not reply and I did not ask anything more. I was going bowling that night anyway. I walked into the bedroom and started to remove my tie and shirt to change into more casual, bowling-appropriate clothes. I heard the bathroom door open and what sounded like shoes in the hall. Was she going out? Vanessa then appeared in the doorway like a little red devil. My eyes scanned from the floor up, my mouth agape. She wore red high heels at least four inches tall, with bright red toenails. Her olive legs just kept going up until they reached a tiny red thong. Her flat stomach was bare and her breasts were pushed up into a perfect cleavage with a red bra. Her black hair had been cut short in a bob with sharp red highlights. Her full lips were bright red and even her nails were bright red and manicured into a perfect inch long curve. She stood in the doorway with a look in her eye which said 'just

try

and say no tonight.'

"Are you going bowling tonight?" she asked nonchalantly.

I was speechless. I just couldn't stop staring at the 5 foot tall goddess. Even though I had seen her nearly every day for the last 10 years, never before had I felt such an extraordinary desire for her. I tried to shake off the lust I felt, knowing it was wrong. I was with Malissa now, not Vanessa.

"Are you going bowling?" She asked again.

"Yeah," I managed nervously. "I'm going in a few minutes."

She made a mock frown that somehow made her lips even more desirable to kiss. "That's a shame. I thought maybe we could watch a movie. Or maybe, something else."

"Well I already agreed to go," I said, fighting against every biological urge in my brain. "It's a league match. They need me there."