I sat here in the hospital room holding my wife's hand. She was a mess. She had skidded off a two lane county highway two evenings previously, sideways into a hundred year old oak tree. The car had hit the tree solidly with the driver's door and her whole left side took the blow when the car stopped and she didn't. Her left shoulder was broken and some ribs cracked but the major injury was to her head. She had suffered a concussion and fractured skull when her head hit window as the window hit the tree. She had bleeding inside the skull, a hematoma they called it, and they had to open her skull to relieve the swelling. She was in a coma and the doctors did not know when she would come out of it or even if she would live.
Last night Officer Steven Desmond from the State Police came into the room and told me that he was the trooper who was assigned to investigate Beth's accident. He said,
"I have to interview her but I understand that is impossible now, but perhaps you can shed some light on what happened." I answered,
"I have no idea where she was or was she doing in that area. I was out of town and was returning to Bloomington on a commuter flight from O'Hare and I landed at 6:30pm, she was to pick me up at the Bloomington Airport. She never showed up and never answered the house or her cell phone. I took a cab home and I was there only a few minutes when I got the phone call that she was here in this hospital.
"Does she have a drug or drinking problem?"
" No, of course not. The hospital must have tested her blood, what did it show?"
"She was sober and drug free but she had had intercourse within the last 12 hours."
"That's impossible; I have been gone for two days."
He looked at me quizzically and said,
"Is it? Sorry but I have to ask these questions. Is she employed?"
"No, she hasn't worked since our sons were born and they are both in college now."
"What about you, what do you do?"
"I am a professor at the University in Bloomington."
"Are you out of town often?"
"Yes once or twice a month, I do a lot of consulting work for the state and various corporations, mostly in the automotive field. Can you tell me what happened instead of asking all these questions?"
"I can tell you what happened. She was driving south on County Road 122, evidently at a high rate of speed, the road makes a sharp right turn for a few hundred yard and then makes a sharp left and continues south. The sharp right turn is not well signed and there was a patch of black ice just before it and when she hit the brakes, she lost control and hit the tree broadside. The car was totaled and we had a hard time getting her out. By the way, I have her purse and her laptop top with me. I will leave them here with you."
"She didn't have a laptop."
"It's got her name on it inside the case. The screen is broken; you will have to get it fixed for her."
I thanked him but now I have more questions than he did.
Why was she so far north?
Why was she so delayed that she had to speed on a back road?
Why does she have a computer I didn't know about?
Where had she been?
Who had she had sex with?
Do I know my wife?
This morning, before I came to the hospital, I stopped by the Computer Science building and gave her laptop to one of the techies to see if he could repair it. I felt that it might be able to answer some the questions in my mind. I stayed with her only a short time since there was no way to communicate. Then I went to work and later picked up the repaired computer on my way home. The young man who gave it back to me said,
"There's some pretty hot stuff in here. I'd like to meet the woman who wrote it."
I mumbled some reply, paid him for the repair and made my way home. I made a sandwich and a scotch and soda for dinner and then sat down with that damn computer. Did I really want to invade Beth's privacy? She kept this away from my knowledge. Was I afraid that what I found out would destroy my marriage? Too many questions and I needed answers so I turned it on and found two folders, one marked 'Photos' and the other marked 'My Diary'.
I clicked on 'Photos' and there was my Beth, pictured from the waist up wearing the biggest smile .........and nothing else. She was holding her slightly heavy pendulous breasts up to the camera, offering them to the photographer with a lewd smile on her face. My heart went cold. I clicked again and there she was again with the same smile only she was on her back, looking down between her legs towards thee camera, her fingers spreading her trimmed cunt with what looked like sperm leaking out of her. I barely made it to the bathroom where I gave up my dinner sandwich. I made it through a few more photos, one of which was of her with a cock in her mouth looking up at the photographer. I couldn't take any more and closed the folder.
This was my 46 year old wife, we have been married for 22 years and have two sons in college and it looks like I never knew her. She certainly had never acted like that for me. She was the consummate faculty wife, prim, proper and a good mother. Never the slut I saw in those pictures. I fixed my self a scotch on the rocks and opened the file marked 'Diary'. She wrote,
***********
Simon wants me to keep a diary of every thing that goes through my head concerning our relationship. He says I am to bare my soul to him just as I bare my body and he wants me to start from when we met. He knows I cannot deny him anything he wants and he had me buy this notebook to keep my diary and photos and I am to bring it with me every time we meet so he can read about all my thoughts.
It was at the end of August when we met at a book signing at the University Bookstore. He had written a book of poetry that I thought contained some of the most beautiful love poems I had ever read. I stayed afterwards to tell him how deeply they affected me and how much I appreciated his work. He invited me to further discuss his poetry in the coffee shop and before we knew it the afternoon was gone. Henry was away on one of his consulting trips and I was having such a good time I invited Simon to come to my home and have dinner with me so that we could continue our discussion. He accepted and after dinner, over coffee, I coaxed him into reading some of his poetry to me. His voice, his poems, his beauty, affected me in a way I cannot describe but my insides turned liquid. I was melting, and it was leaking out of my vagina. The poetry he then improvised was of love and it was love for and of me. This man was at least fifteen years younger than I and he knew my soul better than anyone in this world, certainly better than Henry did. I was so moved that I slid out of my chair and crawled on all fours to kneel between his legs as he reclined in Henry's chair, my elbows on his thighs. He reached out and put his fingers below my chin and lifted my face, leaned forward and kissed me and with that kiss he released something in me. He continued reciting his love poems as he undressed me and when we were both naked he laid me back on the sofa and made love to me. When he entered my vagina I climaxed so hard I think I fainted and the next orgasm woke me up. We spent the night in my marital bed and he had me coming most of the time. Never in my life had anyone ever taken me to such emotional heights as Simon did that night. When morning came I didn't want him to leave. He told me that we could keep in touch by computer and I told him that I didn't know how to do that and that I couldn't use Henry's in any event. He took me out and I bought this little laptop and he showed me how to use it to keep photos, do email, do instant mail and video telephone and keep my diary. I guess I was not too smart with the computer at first and I could not get the hang of it so all we could do was talk on the phone for the next few weeks. He got me so hot that I sat by the phone and waited until he called. He had me fingering myself to orgasm as he recited love poems to me.
I don't understand my feelings for Simon or why I so blithely forgot my marriage vows or compromised my love for Henry. I still love him, he is a dear, sweet, considerate man and I want to spend the rest of my life with him but Simon has lighted a fire within me that I cannot deny. Right now I live for his next phone call and in fear that some slip up of mine would clue Henry into my behavior.
Then at the end of September I told him that Henry would be out of town again and he came to me two hours after Henry left. I opened the door for him and he walked right past me then turned to face me. I closed the door and fell into his arms with unbridled passion. I tilted my face to kiss him and he devoured me. We stripped and made love right there on the foyer rug. I showed him a passion and hunger that I never displayed for Henry. When his tongue entered my mouth I sucked on it so hard I thought I would tear it from its roots and my vagina ground down so hard on his penis that he yelped for me to take it easy. We both climaxed simultaneously and then lay in each others arms in orgasmic bliss. Then he shrunk and slipped out of me. I cried,
"Nooooooooooooo, don't go."
"Sorry lover, but with the right inspiration it will come back."
"But it is such a lovely penis."
"You don't want a penis; you want a long hard stiff cock."
"Yes, I guess I do, how do I get it back?"
"You ask for it, nicely,"