What Wasn't in the Envelope

What Wasn't in that Envelope

Readers: I was struck by StormX's The Envelope. I wondered about the character of Sue. An apparently happily-married wife, she had a one-week affair with a man and woman while her husband was out of town. Thereafter, she continued the affair with the other man, only when her husband was out of town on business, for a period of six months. During this time, she allowed this other man to do things to her sexually that she never allowed her husband. Sue's husband, John, is given evidence showing Sue's infidelity. However, the bearer of this evidence, the 'other man's' wife, tells John that the affair is not emotional, and that she is sure that Sue loves John. Nevertheless, John's discovery leads him to a rather dramatic confrontation, of sorts, ending in divorce. I had a hard time reconciling the character of Sue. Therefore, my first ever story submission is my attempt to uncover what might have happened with Sue and her affair. Because of my limitations as a writer, I have written this as a letter from Sue to John, sometime after the events of The Envelope. Please read The Envelope before reading this story.

My Dearest John,

It has been months since I have last seen your face, and that was by video when I tried in vain to get you to forgive me and call off the divorce. I realize now that I completely wasted my time.

I realize that I should have used that time to tell you what really happened. I have been seeing a counselor since before our divorce was finalized, and I am now ready to tell you the whole story. I'm doing this for me-because I need to tell you the whole truth. But I am also doing this for you. You deserve to know everything.

Before I get into how and why this all happened, I want you to know that I have spoken with Stella Holmes. She showed me what was in that envelope she gave you. She told me about her talk with you. So, I know what you know. But, you don't know the whole story.

John, I cannot say enough how sorry I am that you had to see all of that. I am sorry of course for everything-for even considering doing what I did. But, I am sorry you had to go through the pain of actually seeing my vile acts.

But, this letter is not about apologizing; I have done plenty of that already. This is about giving you the whole truth. To do that, I need to put this in context, so I need to tell the story in my own way.

Starting in the beginning, you know that I am the youngest of three sisters. I wasn't as smart or popular or pretty as my two older sisters, and I guess I was jealous, and had a bit of an inferiority complex. I found affirmation where I could get it: from boys- I dated a lot. In fact, I was a bit of a wild child. By th time I got to high school, I was known to give out handjobs and blowjobs pretty frequently. I didn't like it very much, but I looked at it as a way to avoid having to do more. I know you took offense when I mentioned that I had had that attitude about it in passing when I tried to give you that blowjob around the time you got the envelope (I assume that maybe you had just received it, given your strange attitude and our fight about it that night). But, that was how I USED to feel about it.

Anyway, one time in 8th grade I was at this older boy's house drinking and fooling around. He got me into a bedroom and started to get aggressive with me. I freaked out and started crying, but was too scared to move. He kept saying it would be ok. I thought I was going to be raped by this boy, and I couldn't do anything. Next thing I know, the door opens, and a young man comes in and says "what the hell are you doing in my room!?!" Frankie (the boy I was with) jumped up and sort of away from me on the bed at this, and this young man looks at us, and says, "And what is going on here, Frankie?" He looked at me, my shirt off, my pants undone and pulled below my butt, and said "How old is this girl, Frank?" He threw the boy out of the room, telling him to break up the party, NOW. Then this young man came back into the room, and he asked me, "Are you OK? Did Frankie hurt you? Did he do anything to you? Do you need anything?" I just started crying my eyes out- I mean really sobbing. He almost reluctantly put his arm around me and said "It's ok, you're safe now. Nobody's going to hurt you." When I had cried myself out, he offered to take me home. The young man was so nice, and, I noticed, so good looking. He must have been about 19 or 20. He said he was Frank's older brother, Justin, a college sophomore. He made me feel so safe and so secure. I think I fell into a heavy case of puppy love with Justin right then.

Nonetheless, I continued to date a lot, and the handjobs, and later blowjobs, became pretty routine for me. Then you showed up my junior year of high school. In many ways, you reminded me of a younger Justin. And, what I noticed about you right (besides your good looks), was that you were so kind and gentle.

When you asked me out that spring, I was so exited! More excited than I had ever been to be asked out by a boy. And, the date itself didn't disappoint. I loved every minute we spent together. We immediately started to go steady, and I fell in love with you. I thought a lot about giving myself to you fully that whole summer, but then we had "the talk."

You told me that you were going away to Tech that next fall, which is 6 hours away. It would not be possible for you to get home a lot. You said it was not fair to us to stay together for 9 months. That we had to break up, at least until the school year was over. I tried to argue the point, but you were adamant.

Surprise, surprise we made it through those 9 months apart. We fell in love all over again, and you finally made me your woman. You asked about my dwindling blow-jobs over the years. Well, I will always regret that. But, besides the fact that I had a bad association of blowjobs from my earlier days, I also shied away from them, at least in part, because I so loved having your cock inside my pussy. I lived for you to fuck me. It was the best thing in the world to me. Nothing else could possibly compare to it.

I followed you to Tech. You got your degree in engineering, I got mine in nursing. We got married as soon as you graduated. You were 22, I was 21, and we had the world ahead of us. We decided we wanted to wait for children. You were on the road a lot, those first few years, but it almost made it worth it to have our reunions. I couldn't get enough of you. Sure, we had our disagreements from time to time, but I would have to say that those years of our marriage were wonderful. One of my only regrets was that I was not particularly adventurous sexually. You were obviously hurt by the fact that I let Justin do things to me and with me that I denied you, or only gave to you on occasion once we were married (blowjobs, anal, threesome with another woman). I know I refused you anal on the few times you suggested it early in our marriage. But, I was young and inexperienced. I was afraid. And, I loved our regular sex so much that I didn't have any interest in doing that. I realize now that I was selfish. If you had kept at me about it, I am sure I would have given in. The blowjobs did sort of get phased out. But, you never "needed" them when we were together. And, you never really asked me for them too often. In retrospect, I never really explained the reasons for my aversion to them to you, and I must admit that I begged off a few times over the years. I just wasn't something I wanted to do, when we could do the "real thing". That said, I was selfish, I knew you liked them, and you were never stingy with the oral for me. I regret withholding that from you. The 3-some thing I don't think I ever would have done with you before...well, before all this. Not because I would have wanted to deny you-I never wanted to deny you anything. But rather because I would have been insanely jealous of sharing you with another woman.

When we were married 8 years, you got promoted and were only on the road for a week every 6 weeks or so. You were making a lot more money. We got the bigger house. I quit the hospital and got the 9-4 job at the clinic. I got off the pill and we decided to let nature takes it course. After 2 years and no results, we got tested, and we found out that I couldn't have children. I was terrified that you would leave me then. I know the news crushed you-I could see it in your face. But, you said all the right things. Still, I sometimes saw the look of sadness on your face when you thought I didn't notice-especially when we were with friends with children.

Over the next few years, something changed in our relationship. Maybe it was that we had been together for so long that the spark began to wear off. Maybe it was that our dream of having children was over. Whatever it was, I see now, in retrospect, that we were growing apart. Although you were not out of town as much, your absences were harder to take. We seemed to be doing more and more apart from one another. When you went out of town, I began going to bars and clubs with the girls from work, and sometimes with their friends. Even when we did spend time together, I began dragging you along to get-togethers with our friends more and more (well, maybe they were mainly 'my' friends, but I didn't see it that way, at the time). I know that our sex life dropped off over those years-not a lot, but some. And, I know that my blowjobs during those years did dwindle to basically your birthday and Christmas. I know I started to have moments of jealousy and doubts about your faithfulness while you were away. I never had any reason to think that, of course, but I guess a woman in her mid-30's who realizes that she cannot give her successful, handsome husband the children he wants will have her insecurities. I was afraid, John, and, for the first time since we'd been together, I was not able to share that fear with you.

That Christmas party a couple years ago when I had too much to drink was during that time when I began to feel as if everything was closing in on me-a feeling of doom. I was drinking even more than you knew.

I want to say this: what Stella wrote in her letter was true with respect to the dance club. I never danced with other men when I went out with the girls. I always left with a friend. I might have talked to other men, but I never cheated on you or even did more than mildly flirt with any man while out. I really wasn't looking for that. Despite what I was going through, I knew one thing: I loved you more than life itself.

Well, now we come to the fateful night. That day, we had a little party at the clinic for a girl who was going on maternity leave (she was 6 years younger than me!). I had been out with a couple of girlfriends. I had been drinking more than my usual. In fact, I was pretty drunk. One of the girls had been telling me a story about how her sister had caught her husband cheating on her when he went out of town on business. That was all I needed to hear that night, with you out of town yet again for a week. It was like a perfect storm was brewing.

I was coming back from the bar when I actually physically ran into this really good looking man. I kind of spilled my drinks on both of us, and apologized. He also apologized and was acting kind of flustered, in a really cute and charming way. He insisted on buying me two new drinks, and bringing them by my table. I thought he looked really familiar, but I couldn't place him. I said that he didn't have to worry about it, and went back to my table and sat with Veronika, my one girlfriend left at the club. Shortly thereafter, the guy came to our table with two new drinks. I invited him to sit with us. He introduced himself, and wouldn't you know it: it was Justin Holmes, my first crush. I introduced myself (he remembered me), and we started talking about old times, our families, etc. He had been back in town for about two years. He had done very well for himself. His family had money, and he had done plenty to build up the family business. He looked great, I have to admit: tall, well-built, and with a full head of wavy hair. Still charming and friendly and deep inside I could feel the stirrings of a long-ago crush welling up in me. We chatted for over an hour, when Veronika begged off to get a cab home. At that, Justin explained that he was meeting his wife here shortly, and he would be happy to get me home, or call a cab for me. I accepted his proposal immediately-I was really interested in meeting his wife. Veronika looked at me a little strangely-I had never remained at a club without at least one of my girls before, but she accepted my decision and wished me a good night.

Justin and I had a wonderful conversation. And, I was getting more and more inebriated. He was certainly flirtier once Veronika left, but not obnoxiously so by any means. I'll admit it, I was eating it up. Sometime later, his wife Stella came up and introductions were made. You've met her, she's absolutely gorgeous, and she was dressed so sexily. I was actually intimidated by her. But, she was so sweet. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the flirty banter between Justin and me, and even joined in it herself. I was pretty drunk and having such a good time, that I even accepted a hit of ecstasy that Justin offered me. In fact, we all took some. What happened next was a blur. We ended up back at their house, in their hot tub, naked. What followed was wild sex. All my worries and cares had disappeared. I'm ashamed to admit, I didn't think about you at that time, either. I had a wild three way with Justin and Stella.

The next morning, we all had breakfast in bed together. It was all so natural and friendly. We talked about all sorts of things-it was as if we hadn't had sex just hours before, except that we had. A couple of hours later and I said that I needed to get home, but wondered if they wanted to get together that evening. I really wasn't planning on a repeat of last night, it seemed a crazy one-time thing, but just thought maybe they would want to have dinner and maybe a couple drinks later. Stella said no, and I was immediately disappointed, but then said that I should get my things and come back and we could spend the day together. I ended up spending every day and night there until I went home on Thursday. We talked, we hung out in their pool, we dined together, we slept together, and we had sex together. It was like I was in another world. Yes, alcohol flowed and we took ecstasy together again twice more, but it was really natural and friendly-no jealousy between them at all. It was like a fantasy. Justin was just as charming and wonderful as I ever remembered him. Stella was like a best friend. It didn't even seem like I was being unfaithful to you at all-the thought never occurred to me. Instead, it was like being in another world. I shared with Stella and Justin my fears, hopes, insecurities: all the things that were troubling me. Things I should have been sharing with you, my dear husband, but failed to do. They were so understanding and supportive. I told them both how much I loved you, how afraid I was that we were drawing apart, how you were the world to me. I know it sounds strange, that I would share how much I love you with two relative strangers who I was sleeping with behind your back; but again, it just seemed like we were on this deserted island and we could be totally open and honest with each other-that we were in a fantasy land for several days. It was liberating!

On Wednesday, I talked with Stella (Justin was at work) was we lounged around the pool. She told me that this time with me was wonderful for both her and Justin. But, she explained that it could not continue. She encouraged me to talk with you about those things that were troubling me. She said that it was clear to her that I loved you more than life itself, and that I had to fight to keep you. She said that Wednesday night would be our last, but that it should be a celebration of our wonderful time together. And it was.

Thursday morning, Justin drove me home. On our way to our home, Justin said that he had a wonderful time with me, and that if I ever needed a friend I could trust to talk to, he would be pleased to talk with me. He gave me his card, with his cell number written on it. I honestly never thought I would call him.

I started feeling confused that Thursday. On the one hand, wanted to tell you about the week I had had. But, then I realized that I could not tell you about it. How could you, detached from the situation, ever understand what I had done? You wouldn't understand, and it would hurt you too much. I resolved that this would have to be my secret, but that you would reap the benefits of it. I was a nervous wreck on Friday. However, you arrived home later than usual. So, we had only a brief chat before you went to bed. During the night, I wrapped myself around you and realized how much I loved you, and I fell into a long, peaceful sleep. When we awoke Saturday, we made the most delicious love that we had made in months-nothing fancy or unusual, but so meaningful to me, and I was sure that we would be alright.

Stella got one thing wrong in her letter. She stated that she found a strange pair of women's panties among her husband's things a couple of weeks after our time together. Well, she may have, but they weren't mine. I didn't speak to, much less have sex with, Justin until the next time you went out of town. During the interval, I did feel guilty at times about what I had done. But again, it was like something that happened separate from our marriage. I was convinced that it might even be good for our marriage in the long run. Despite my guilt, I felt better about myself than I had in a long time. I reduced my drinking. I made it a point to make more time for you than I had the previous couple of years. I was more in love with you than I had ever been.

It was six weeks later, and you had just gone out of town on a Friday, when Veronika asked if I wanted to go to Club Enigma again. I intended to say no, but decided that I wanted to have fun and dance with my girls and celebrate how great I was feeling about us and our love again. We had a great time! Then, after Veronika begged off early, I ran into Justin again. It was a little awkward actually. But, he was so at ease and charming and friendly that I got over it very soon. He was at the club with a friend. We all sat together for a while. I hadn't been drinking much, planning on driving home, but pretty soon shots started appearing at our table. At some point, I realized I was pretty tipsy, and shouldn't drive home. I was planning on calling a cab when Justin offered to give me a ride home. When we got home, he asked if he could use the bathroom. The next thing I knew he was kissing me. I resisted at first, but then just gave in. We had sex. He left the next morning.

He was different than you-wilder and more uninhibited. But, I want you to know that he wasn't better than you. I don't know if you want to know this, but I know this can matter to men-your penises are equivalent. If I had to guess, yours might be a little bigger around, and his might be just a little longer. But, it really didn't make any difference to me. Having sex with him wasn't making love-I never loved him. But, I did care for him as a friend. In my twisted view of things, he had helped me in a time of need. In retrospect, I see that he had taken advantage of me in a time of emotional upheaval. But, I didn't see it that way at the time.

On Monday, he called and asked if he could stop over after work. I agreed. He came over, we had a drink, discussed our days, we had sex, and he left. He did the same thing on Tuesday. It was weird. I knew we should not be doing it, but it felt natural, and not like a betrayal of you. I can't explain it. It was like catching up with an old friend, but with benefits. It was like he was a surrogate for you-just someone to spend some time with while you were out of town. And yes, the sex continued to be more adventurous than it was with you. There was a lot of oral, and he liked to do wilder positions and things. I almost felt like if it was different from what you and I do, it was less like cheating-like something extra I was doing. In comparison to what I did that week with Justin and Stella, what Justin and I did was vanilla. I even gave some thought to using the experience as a way to spice up our love life. But, that was just a rationalization, of course. What I did was wrong, and somewhere down inside me, I knew it, but I did it anyway.