"CURLING STORY" part 6 of 7
(a liberally creative and adulterous piece that could be true)
There was obviously a story to tell and I was all ears.
It was frightening to say the least when I heard the key fumbling in the front door lock. It was like slow motion as that door swung open and these two lovers entered our home. I wasn’t sure how I was going to respond given the volatile and violent man I once was. But I did remain quietly seated on the couch, our young dog’s head resting on my lap. I wasn’t at all sure what I had gotten myself into this time but was willing to suffer whatever consequences were coming my way. It seems having consequences is the only way to recover from what ails me. But in all honesty I was scared to death of the outcome. Being in our own home now, and out of the public eye, did feel better. But how was I to justify and reconcile the mysterious behavior I witnessed at the restaurant? These two did in some way make it all feel better now as they were finally recognizing me as a person in the room. I no longer felt absent or viewed as some kind of a ghost. I was present in my shame however, but willing to perhaps learn again of my buried shortcomings that I have so often kept from others in the past. And this individual appeared appreciative, and expressed how sorry he was for not being more empathetic towards me. He came and sat down on the couch right next to me. He seemed sincere and offered me his hand. There was obviously a story to tell and I was all ears.
The last thing I ever wanted from this shared fantasy with my wife was to one day feel cuckolded. How men can desire to be humiliated and made to feel eviscerated was beyond my understanding. But then, there are many things I have yet to understand or experience for myself. Most of what I do know I credit to my wife, her saving me years ago when she confronted me with my abnormal drinking patterns. It was true I drank too much and when I did I would change quite drastically. Eventually all the drinking changed my thinking even when sober. It took roughly five years of sobriety before I turned my mental and emotional ship around. It took courage and commitment from both of us to achieve this new life together, but there was a severe and lasting price to pay for our young children. And now they all have left home and are on their own, trying to find their way and how to live their lives. Meanwhile, the two of us are left to our own devices, and here I was facing the music I had sung about for so long. Except it wasn’t exactly how I had planned it. I don’t think I was upset about this man putting his penis inside her. There certainly had been others before me and that had never mattered. Just the fact she wasn’t with me was the problem. I really didn’t care who she had fucked before as long as she was with me now. And now that she was actually having an affair I wanted to know if I still felt the same way and if she did too. The unknown is always frightening and we make more of it than our logic might suggest. This man beside me on the couch had obviously been allowed into and gifted with her sex. And what was I to think or discern about this relationship? And would it eventually destroy us or add something to our lives? Looking across the room at her I could see she was concerned as well and waiting for my reaction. Yes, I was her husband but I also know it is ridiculous to think we have any control over another person’s body. Or their life. Fact is, I was grateful to have her, period. The question was if indeed I still did. Of course, there are certain boundaries to consider and this adulterous behavior would certainly be unacceptable to a number of men I have known. But I am not one of them. There must be some form of sexual freedom that is acceptable and accessible to both of us. Our experiments with sexual fantasy are what this event is really about. And how I deal with it will determine the results going forward. As I looked at her across the room I too wanted her badly. She does that to me. But for years now I also have wanted to share her with a man or woman who would appreciate her as well. And not just anybody. I believed he or she had to be a friend, and the man sitting next to me wasn’t. At least not yet. It appeared my wife had gone again and put the cart before the horse.
Part 7 of Curling Story can be read here.
Parts 1 through 7 of “Curling Story” can be found and read in chronological order beginning here.