What Were You Thining? - Therapy

Author's Note:

My previous story,

"What Were You Thinking?"

is about a swinger couple, describing the main characters and summarizing how they came to be swingers. It includes some of their anecdotes from the extra-marital sex-for-fun crowd.

The main male character in my stories might best be described as a more sociable version of "Sheldon Cooper" from the Big Bang Theory TV series, a high IQ emotionally dysfunctional geek. The wife would be a hybrid between that TV series' demanding bitch, "Bernadette", and the highly sexed "Penny".

My previous story was about a problem developing when the wife did something unexpected. Some of the comments showed there are readers who understood and appreciated the characters. But one reader suggested that this dysfunctional couple needs therapy.

So, I pondered;

"Should these swingers seek marriage counseling?"

And

"How would the husband in particular react to a marriage counselor?"

This story contains enough explanations to be another stand-alone, but it continues from that previous story of two emotionally dysfunctional sex addicts, with this adding a little more background for context.

*****

Intro

My mental clock was counting down the minutes and seconds until

'Go!

' This seems almost like a final countdown to a rocket launch. The waiting this time just doesn't contain that same level of anticipation, with everyone hoping to watch the contraption climb forth to a successful mission. Although the confrontation which put me here might have seemed to some like a similar event with a growing rush of light, smoke & mirrors, and noise as things between us ignited. This countdown will end with us quietly walking in to take seats before an inquisitor. But just like a rocket launch, this countdown has a chance of ending in an explosive disaster.

I anticipate the next hour will be enduring the quack's questions, with me providing answers. I'll be patient with his ignorance. ... In my mind, I fleetingly ponder:

Maybe that's where the word "patient" in a doctor's context comes from ... 'patiently' answering questions.

But ... back in the moment ... over the next hour, another person cannot reconstruct the lifetime of my experiences, which made me who I am! He'll focus on trying to learn some bits and pieces of how I think, as he recites some memorized list of questions his type thinks appropriate in this situation. But in just one second, my own mind shows me how to act, based on decades of my life's unique experiences. The mental image in my mind comes in a flash, like a camera bulb, illuminating the relevant memories. In the context of any one event before me in the moment, seemingly fleeting and almost inconsequential things sometimes take on epic proportions in that flash from my past.

After the next hour, the counselor will be left still not knowing who I am, who WE are, and what-the-fuck happened to us. He won't recognize his naivete, because the papers framed and displayed on his office wall have convinced him of his superior knowledge. And in his ignorance, he will still pass judgement on our marriage.

One seemingly inconsequential moment in my past would be when my girlfriend over thirty-two years ago once innocently said,

"Never lie to me."

Since then, she said

"I love you"

at least daily to me over the last thirty-two years. But on another day, those first four words could outweigh the other three words which she believed were more important. In the context of a remote camera image showing another guy waiting for my wife in our driveway ... when she told me she wanted to be alone that weekend ... those 11,688 other days she said, "I love you", now become background noise, with the flash of "Never lie to me" weighing more heavily in my mind.

But I'll indulge my bitch by playing this version of the Trivial Pursuit game in the marriage counsellor's office. After all, she swore she wanted to fix things between us. And when she's in the mood she does give amazing blow jobs! Now, I believe the only relevant question which remains is:

'How do I get her in the mood?'

Prologue -- Two Years Ago

As we toured the now vacant house which my wife left when we married over thirty years earlier, she described some of her childhood memories in each of the rooms. She tried to keep it light, with stories of opening Christmas or birthday presents during her earlier years, describing the furniture, sleeping out under the stars in the back yard, or reminiscing about family gatherings when she was very young.

Absent from those pleasant memories were any mention of her teenage years, after the car accident which killed her brother. Memories from those years were more troubled. Some of those had to come out as she would stop and stare into a room, remembering the people visiting after the funeral. Or she would touch the kitchen counter and pause, thinking of the pill bottles or the twelve-year-old girl starting some household chore, trying to get her mother to stop crying. Eventually the teenage girl realized if there was a pill bottle out in the kitchen, she could be in the house cooking and cleaning before her father came home from work. But when the pill bottle was not there, her mother was unmedicated. Jan learned there was no way to stop the crying except to be out of her mother's sight and she had to find somewhere else as her quiet space, escaping to the loft of her neighbor's barn.

My wife's reminiscing was winding down and it was soon time to think about departing this house and our old rural hometown for the last time.

"Did you want to drive by the house where you grew up while we're here?" Jan asked.

"There's no need for that," I said. "I remember it all as if it was yesterday. They sold that house years ago, when dad retired, and they bought the RV."

"Do you know where your parents are now?"

"My brother, Dave said he thinks they're in Arizona. Mom and dad rarely answer their cellphone because they forget to charge the battery. So, we don't expect to hear from them anytime soon."

"YOUR mom always cared for you," Jan said. "Not like mine who tried to forget me. But I'm surprised they would just up and leave like that."

"That was just her way," I said. "I told you my mom grew up in an orphanage. And when she was old enough, she worked there for a few years, until she married dad. So, she knew how to raise kids, just like she did in that orphanage. Caring for us was feeding us and seeing that we had clean clothes and went to school. I remember once when my younger brother, Dave, got hurt and went to her crying. She sternly said

" Stop your whining and go back outside!"

That's just who she is. She always thought we should start young learning how hard life can be. And dad spent most of his time working, so, we didn't really connect with him either."

"I remember when I first met your mom and I reached to hug her. She just stood there, and I thought maybe she didn't like me."

"It wasn't that she didn't like you. She told me later that 'You don't hug kids after they're five years old!' She just thought you were a little strange. That's why we didn't spend much time visiting my family."

"I look at other families," Jan said. "... like my Aunt June's, my friend Marlene's, and others, and see how normal people were raised. You and I both came from fucked up families."

"Maybe," I said. "But our parents are who they are because of the things that happened to them, too. It's life. You and I just made the right choices with what we had."

"We do have a great life together, Geek," Jan said.

... 'Fucked up families,'

I thought. That's one way of putting it. It's taken me decades to realize how different I am ... and why. And to further complicate things, a high IQ apparently comes with a curse of remembering TOO much. I can read and remember everything, recalling information quickly or immediately seeing patterns in numbers which others struggle to find. I remember everything I see and hear as facts from the past. Things like the childhood bully beating me, are indelible events, never to be forgotten. The fact the older kids in my neighborhood pushed me to be a loner, along with all other things, coalesced to turn me into a solitary geek focused on studying everything around me. And I can never forget the pact my girlfriend, now wife, Jan insisted on before we married:

'Never lie to me and give me two weeks' notice if you ever want to leave me.'

At the time, her intent was so she could use me to fuck her brains out to get over a dry spell before finding her next boyfriends. But the

'never lie to me ...'

is now always there.

Routines

I'll take a moment to explain how much I need my routines.

I realized long ago that my ability to remember everything is unusual. Everything I see, read, and hear stays with me, and is available for quick recall. That's why I can pass any test so easily. And it's why they pay me so much for my computer consulting job. I can solve problems far faster than most people because I remember all the details of the systems and how they work. If a system has a problem, all possible components or settings which might cause such a problem spring to mind, and I can quickly find the fault.

But with that memory and IQ comes a racing mind. All the things I see, read, and hear have me constantly scrambling for analysis and problem solving. It's a curse of seeing TOO much to do, trying to fix things around me. And it's why I can never do any kind of drugs. Alcohol at least slows my mind ... just a little.

So, I offload everything from my mind that I can. I make as much as possible into familiar routines, which then takes no thought or decisions. If I go to any restaurant more than once or twice, I don't bother to read a menu for that evening's choice. I soon learn which food there is at least tolerable, and after that, I always order the same item at that restaurant. My mother wasn't a good cook, so I never appreciated meals anyway as anything more than sustenance. Now I knowingly choose the same meals, just like establishing any other routines: to eliminate as much decision-making stress as possible in my life. And waking in the mornings either alone or with my wife, Jan, were routines I appreciated.

Many people can't relate to how I think because their experiences are fleeting memories which fade and change. Every time they go to a restaurant, it's a new culinary experience to be savored. MOST people aren't handicapped with excruciating memories of everything. I realized long ago that I'm a borderline mental case. But I'm functional enough to hide it, appearing slightly eccentric to most people.

The Cheating Lifestyle

The decades of raising our own kids found my wife and me, like most couples, tired at the end of each day and our sex drives diminishing. Over the course of our kids' final teenage years, our youngest son became independent and finally moved out. As empty nesters, we found ourselves with more time together, and our energy returned. Our sex lives improved, and we were almost back to our old selves.

A few years before our youngest left the house, Jan had a health scare and had a hysterectomy. She didn't deal well with the prescribed hormone replacement pills needed after that, the pills reminding her of her mother's shortcomings. So, Jan went to a clinic for slow-release hormone pellets, which were implanted under the skin every three months. It seems the clinic she chose included a different mix of hormones, and not just the minimal one she needed after that surgery. The new mix included testosterone, which increased her energy level and helped her sleep, but it had other effects. Within six months, she was quick to anger. But she also became as energetic as a horny college girl. I could put up with her bitching because I was enjoying my wife's increased energy and sex drive!

With Jan wearing me out, we knew another slightly older couple whose wife appeared to have a similar high sex drive, and I asked her husband how he handled it.

"How do you two stay so happy, and does her flirting with other guys bother you?"

They directed us to a swinger website which they use as an aid to reduce sexual boredom with each other, while remaining together as a married couple. They explained how they could enjoy an occasional escape for each of them to satiate their own sex needs at their own pace, but in a way which didn't threaten their marriage.

So, we decided to try our hand at becoming swingers, having sex with other couples. Some people call it "wife swapping", but it became more than that. The house parties offered us far more options. Either of us could enjoy multiple partners in the same evening, focus on just watching or socializing, or just playing with one other partner, ... whatever we each felt like at the time. Jan and I could get what we individually wanted at one of those party evenings but doing so together.

We agreed that we would stay together at those parties to enjoy watching each other's sexual diversions. And that agreement of relieving our sexual tensions together in this way would keep us together ... unless one of us does something else, without our spouse!

Losing the Bitch

Our

'something else without the spouse'

occurred last week. After a week of being moody and bitching, my wife decided she needed a weekend without me tagging along, going to our family vacation house in the mountains. She said she needed some "space" without me hovering nearby. But I was concerned for her safety, and I remotely checked the security and wildlife cameras at that house before she arrived that evening. That was when I found her meeting a divorced single guy, we both knew from a swinger party.

When I confronted Jan last Sunday upon her return with the facts of her spending that weekend with Rodger, I told her she set this new standard between us. It wasn't the fact that she sucked and fucked another guy. As swingers, I've watched her do that many other times at house parties, and I even watched her with Rodger her first time at that swinger party two months ago. The new standard was that she didn't tell me she was going to spend the weekend with him, and she tried to hide it from me. She wanted to maintain control over me with her "rules", and her insistence that we would only play with others when we're both together. Now with her attempted deception to get her own private time with Rodger, I'm free to do the same: spend a weekend with another woman, without my wife's prior knowledge or approval!

So, with her defying our rule to only play with others while together, I did the same!

When I left our suburban house Friday evening, Jan grudgingly assumed I was going to meet another woman. She just didn't know who I chose for this weekend away from her.

When I woke yesterday morning and again this Sunday morning with Brenda beside me, it felt a little strange. For over thirty years, it was always with Jan beside me, unless one of us was away on a business trip. And I was comfortable with Jan's routines. This 'not knowing' what's next or what to expect with Brenda in the mornings or what she might want to do during the day gave me the uncomfortable feeling I recognized as stress. So, while the sex was great, the majority of my weekend was spent silently analyzing and planning what to do with her, BOTH hers!

I wondered what Jan was doing while I was gone. She assumed I was with another woman. Was she angry? Was she plotting some misguided revenge? That type of "one-upmanship" would just lead to a downward spiral between us, and we'd never recover. And what do I do with Brenda from hour to hour over the weekend? She doesn't fit into my normal routines at the mountain house, so I must spend time thinking of what to do next with her.

My choice of spending this weekend with Brenda wasn't intended as revenge, but to show my wife that there are consequences. She deliberately chose to exclude me from her fun last weekend, leaving me to naively think she was relaxing ... alone. This time, she knew I wouldn't be alone. Now, was she keeping her promise this time to spend this weekend alone, like I did, as her way of 'payback' to try setting things right between us?

These questions and this new situation with Jan and Brenda were stressful changes to my routines, and I don't like it.

Then to further complicate my life, my wife was always self-assured and in control. I liked that about her, relieving me of those social function decisions. Outside of my work schedule, she made most of the decisions with our life, telling me what we would do and when we would do it. But when I confronted her with the fact that she effectively lied to me by telling me she wanted me to stay home for a "scifi weekend", while she went without me to the mountain house, she changed things. And I think the confrontation changed something in her. Once she started telling me everything, her confidence dissipated, ... as if she didn't recognize herself. She had often said

"We have a great life together."

Now it was as if she was trying to put things back the way she knew it should be between us by asking me more often what I want. She was no longer TELLING me "This is what we're doing".

Jan never says she's sorry for anything, and I wouldn't want her to say she's sorry. That would imply that she knowingly made a bad decision and didn't think! When my wife makes a decision, it's based on what she wants, and she knows that. Her words and actions since finally admitting to her deception were desperately trying to change something in my mind which couldn't be forgotten.

Last Sunday, Jan opened up to me with her real feelings and the things on her mind over the previous week, and she was trying to regain my unquestioning trust. But I tried to get across to her that once she deceived me, ... as they say;

'that ship sailed!'

There would always be that event in my mind asking the question:

'Could she be lying to me again?'

Last week when I said,

"We're done talking about it"

, I walked away from her, heading to bed. She later came into bed meekly asking if she could lay her head on my shoulder. And she did that every night for the rest of the week. I also noticed her attitude toward me changed, and she wasn't calling me a geek anymore.

During this past week, I opened a new bank account and changed my paychecks to deposit them in that personal account, out of her control. I changed my retirement plan at work, freezing the old one and set up a new account to start the regular deposits there. I prepared a spreadsheet listing our accounts and their status, and on Thursday I reviewed our finances with Jan.

My wife was aware of our finances, having her background in accounting and budgeting at work. Actually, she has done most of the budgeting for our household over the past thirty years. But I thought this a good idea to review them together now, so there wouldn't be any questions of the numbers in the future if she decides to divorce me. I told her if she wants a divorce, we'd split everything from our past accounts, but going forward, we'd separate everything we earn. This served to underscore the consequences of her deception. She'll easily extrapolate from those numbers, understanding the difference between our retirement accounts in ten to fifteen years due to my much higher salary. I knew THAT would be a shock.

Seeing Jan so compliant, merely nodding acknowledgement of the numbers as I showed them to her was a little disheartening. When my co-workers and others I've known are faced with the consequences of their decisions, I've noticed there are different reactions.