The Basement Window

Basic cheating story with the usual tropes. This is basically a conversation between spouses that is pretty typical when one is caught cheating, the kind of verbal fighting that can go on in a marriage. Here we go:

"You girls at least are getting something, sometimes, from your husbands. Mine? He needs the blue pill, and even then he's not really into it. Oh how I'd like to get a substitute one day!" Veronica looked at her girlfriends as they lounged around Trixie and Mike's pool.

"Ask Trixie for some advice on that!" Charlotte said in a laughing manner.

* * * *

What is Marriage?

Why do people get married? Not just for sex, one can get that anywhere. I guess the primary reason is so-called "love," so the decision is to spend the rest of their lives with that person. There's also the companionship and support, being a team through the ups and downs of life and I imagine that gives a sense of security.

Of course, children are a big reason for many. There's the social norms that are expected of adults, that eventually they'll pair-up. And some of that is because of religion and a way to fulfill their spiritual beliefs or obligations, one of which is morality and fidelity.

To me the main thing is trust. Why? Because if you don't have trust, then why be in any relationship? Trust is the cornerstone of marriage. Trust provides emotional security, open communication, and it supports the partnership through difficult challenges. The process of navigating life's challenges together, even when there are disagreements, only serves to strengthen the bond of trust.

So when it's broken, can it ever be repaired? Perhaps in some cases it may be sufficient enough to stay together, but what about that emotional security? What about that confidence in the other person? Does that go back to 100 percent?

I don't think so. And my friend, it has not been my experience.

Growing up in a Detroit bungalow, my entire family was basically working class men, with the women at home taking care of kids, going to Detroit Public Schools, and most of the men working at some auto-related company. The men made decent money with decent benefits courtesy of the union. It provided for a good upbringing.

Trixie moved into the neighborhood when we were in eleventh grade when her Dad got transferred to one of the Detroit auto factories as a manager. I married Trixie right out of high school.

Of course, I went right to work in a factory as an assembler on the line, eventually found a posting for a hi-lo driver, and eventually took a job as a line supervisor. Man, it's weird to go from working as one of the stiffs next to other stiffs and then start supervising those same guys.

You learn quickly how to handle the challenges from the guys you used to hang with who now thought you felt you were now better than them. I didn't feel that way, I just wanted more money and a better future.

The older line workers challenged me as a young guy. They knew the union rules, they knew if they challenged me and I gave in then I'd always give in. Weak supervisors were controlled by the line workers.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there are always supervisor meetings before and after the shift where we would get our asses ripped by the superintendent, and sometimes by the plant manager. Those were huge rippings.

Most of the time they were unfair accusations designed to motivate our performance. That's the way it was back 20 years ago, things aren't exactly like that now. But I quickly learned that shit runs downhill, and supervisors were at the bottom, just above the assembly line workers. So how do you protect yourself from a real accusation, where you'd really be torn apart?

You document everything, challenge people, show no mercy, make sure the bad guys pay for what they try to get away with so they become afraid to challenge you again.

Dear reader, do you think that makes me an asshole? Yes it does, but I'm an asshole to those who either don't do their job, or just want to make my life miserable, or who want to challenge my authority.

There's a benefit to being an asshole though: The good employees appreciate that I don't let the slackers get away with it. And the good employees and I have a great relationship.

So at a relatively young age in my mid-20s I became a pretty good supervisor at the automotive assembly factory and over the years earned some pretty good money where Trixie and I could move out of Detroit to Dearborn Heights. The inner-ring suburbs are basically built for the mid-level automotive people.

A four bedroom ranch on a small lot fit Trix and I, our son and daughter, and eventually a small inground pool in the backyard. Yeah, less lawn to cut. It worked for the last 20 years.

Now it's just me and Trixie in the home, because Samantha and Steven are in their third and fourth year of college. It's all paid for. I made sure and set up the college savings accounts early when they were born, and each of our parents contributed into those funds.

And because I made decent money, we lived modestly, the home is paid off and we're debt free. That's pretty un-American for sure, but it sure gives some peace of mind and a lot of flexibility, and choices.

Not that the peace of mind didn't come with a cost. Trixie and I sacrificed the high-end vacations for more modest ones to save some money. Everyone still enjoyed it. We didn't buy or lease new cars until the old ones hit ten years. We clipped coupons. Paid off credit cards monthly.

I did some personal investing on the side, took some classes, read a lot of books, and I have a decent investment account in addition to the 401k I have through the automotive company.

Was it working for the "peace of mind" that led to the problem in my marriage? I don't know, and I don't think what happened was my fault.

So what happened?

One Saturday I was home for a change and not working at the plant. I was in my basement in the little so-called 'home office' I had set up where I have my computer and printer, pay the bills, keep the family records, and watch TV at times. In the summer the basement gets a little musty, so I open up the basement window.

A few years ago I put in an egress window, so it's a pretty big window that is basically for emergency escape that opens into a 'window well,' a pretty big space that would easily fit a body that could climb out into the back yard for safety.

Opening it brings in some fresh air and a nice breeze. It also lets me hear what's going on in the backyard, which has been convenient when my kids had their friends over for pool parties when home from school.

Trixie had her friends over to hang out at the pool. Basically we're all 40-somethings that became friends from wherever over the years. I could hear their girl-talk, which is basically alcohol fueled group therapy for wives to air their mutual grievances about laundry, kids, cooking, unsatisfying sex, and awful husbands.

"Charlotte, how are those new toys working for you while your hubby is out of town?" asked Veronica.

"Did you know I named them Veronica? My favorite is "Buzz Lightyear!" All the women laughed.

Marissa chimed in, "my hubby thinks when he hums on my clit that it's the same thing!" More laughter. Perhaps the white wine assisted in their whining.

This is when I heard Veronica's statement: "You girls at least are getting something sometimes from your husbands. Mine? He needs the blue pill, and even then he's not really into it. Oh how I'd like to get a substitute one day!"

"Ask Trixie for some advice on that!" Charlotte said in a laughing manner.

"What? What are you talking about Charlotte!" Veronica asked in that sultry devilish voice, implying something wonderfully secret that was about to be spilled.

"Now, now, we don't talk about that, do we Charlotte." Trixie admonished Charlotte, but by the tone of her voice I could tell she was smiling as she said it.

Obviously my ears perked up at where this conversation was headed. Now remember, at the plant my rule was to catch things early and document it and shut the problem down. I've done this for over 20 years now.

As you read this, you'll probably think what I'm about to say is just too coincidental, but let me ask, have you ever had teenagers, either of legal age or underage? What do they like to do when there's a pool and no parents around? What would you do?

Yeah, I know. Girls, boys, bikinis, beer, and now let your imagination run. So if it's at my home who has the liability? And in this age of litigation, what do you need? Documentation.

So a few years ago I put two cameras over the backyard so I could see what went on at the pool. It came in handy a few times, enough to provide a deterrent to the kids once they knew they were being watched.

And readers, don't get upset at me for this either. I've never cheated on my wife. There've been plenty of opportunities at the plant, there are women in various areas of every American auto plant that provide "services."

No, I don't do that. But I do admit it's nice to watch college girls in bikinis on my camera recording. There. I said it. Jealous??

So I knew what these women were talking about was on camera and being recorded.

Charlotte whined, "C'mon Trixie. Veronica has been hanging with us for a year now, she's one of us. Let her in on your secret. Here, let me refill your wine."

I could hear the women scooching their lawn chairs closer together, "Oooo this is gonna be good, listen to this Veronica!" gushed Marissa.

With a sigh as if this was a burden, Trixie began, "well you know how Mike is usually on days at the plant, and six days a week? Well you know, we're getting a little older and not as flexible and Mike has a few beers every few days so his Dad-bod sorta took shape, and our, um, rolls in the hay happened less than in the past."

"Yeah, but that's happened to all of our guys," moaned Charlotte. "Get on with the good stuff!"

"So there were a lot of problems on the second shift, you know, from like three in the afternoon up to midnight, and they asked Mike to temporarily switch to afternoons to clean things up. He'd get a shift bonus.

Well, it's a bit of an adjustment from being on days all those years to suddenly switch up your wake and sleep times. Plus, if there's any overtime it's usually at the end of the second shift, so there was that. It was more money, and with overtime, a lot more. But it really rained on our homelife."

"How? What happened Trixie?" Veronica was becoming absorbed in the conversation.

'Veronica, he was gone all night, and slept during the day when I had to be awake. So how was I supposed to get any dick? It hadn't been that frequent before, and now? C'mon, Veronica. A girl has needs, right? Isn't that why you got your hubby those blue pills?"

As I listened I think Veronica was silent, but boy was I ever listening intently!

"So here I am alone all these evenings while Mike's at work. The home is empty, the kids are at school, and you know there's only so many home improvement shows you can stand to watch! So I decided to try and put together a girls night out. But it didn't work out."

"Yeah," Marissa spoke up, "we wanted to be part of it but our husbands would kill us if we went for that. They hear all the guys talk about the pick-up bars and what happens there. So we couldn't go with Trixie."

"So what did you do, Trix? Did you just go alone?" asked Veronica.

"Not exactly. I admit I was a little worried about my safety being out by myself at a bar. So I started hitting Reddit and other sites and found the Muscle Men Male Revue in Detroit. It was a cheap $25 cover charge, and their website said absolutely no pictures. So I thought I was safe."

"You said you thought it was safe?" questioned Marissa.

"Uh-huh, I mean, nothing would show up on social media where my kids or husband might see it. And it was on the eastside of Detroit, and we live on the far west side suburb, so I didn't think I'd see anyone I know. Plus, I figured most eyes would be looking at the stage and not at who was attending."

"Seems pretty reasonable then. But I have a question. You said you weren't getting any at home from Mike, so how was watching these guys going to satisfy your itch?" Veronica was taking it all in.

"Well Veronica, to be honest, yeah, I wanted some dick. The toys weren't doing it, and my mind did a lot of wandering while Mike was away those months on the night shift. So the thought of maybe once or twice a time with another man was exciting to me, and actually helped get me off with the toys. But it wasn't real enough.

"And I needed to start somewhere, so I figured I might as well get some more eye candy to help my imagination when I used my toys. I mean, getting an actual dick? It was more of a dream than something I thought would actually happen.

"But when I got there, I didn't know that men could also attend. Some were husbands with their wives, others were single guys. Well, I had a few drinks to calm my nerves and I got used to the environment, the noise, the stage dancers, the dancers that walked through the audience - wait, did you know they'd get erections and women would suck them off in the audience!?"

All the women giggled nervously. When I later checked the cameras it was clear they were turned on, fingers twirling their hair, Charlotte had her hand between her legs.

'I didn't suck off anyone but I did stroke a cock a few times while the girls around me whooped it up. It embarrassed me a little, then some grandma took over and started blowing him. It was really exhilarating, I'm telling ya'!

"So now it's going on 10:30 at night and I feel my phone buzz and it's a text from Mike that they're going to do a lot of overtime to clear out the back dock and he probably won't get off till the first shift starts at six am. And rather than being disappointed, I'm thinking, "hey, I've got all night to enjoy myself!"

"Did the club stay open that long? I thought everything closes up at 2 am?" noted Veronica.

"That's true, it does. But not all places," Trixie responded, lowering her head and looking at the girls over her sunglasses.

"Oh I see that look," remarked Charlotte. "Now we're getting to the good part!"

Veronica had her forefinger in her mouth, biting the edge of her fingernail, absorbed in where Trixie's story was going.

"The pressures off me now. Mike isn't going to be home for hours. I felt I could relax and take my time, so I went over to the bar and took a stool and ordered up a cosmo. Now remember this was my first time, right? Well it must have been obvious because different guys would come up and chat with me. Some saw my ring, and I think that discouraged them.

"But it was nice to know I was attractive enough for guys to approach me. I think most of them were single, but if they were married their wives must have been near the stage with the dancers."

"Ha! You're such a MILF!" laughed Charlotte.

"No, she's a cougar!" laughed Marissa.

"Well, one really nice looking black man sat next to me and ordered me another cosmo and chatted with me. His name was Ty, really handsome, great body and had a nice suit and open neck dress shirt with a gold chain. It was classy, not gangster or juvenile at all.

"I'm not going to bore you with all we talked about, but he did find out I was married and why I was there. I admitted my home situation with Mike and how I hoped a little eye candy would help my mental fantasies with my toys. I figured, we're all pretty open here drinking booze with married women perving on naked men and dicks hanging out. Why not spill my personal issues?

"But he had a better idea. Oh goodness, I'm not sure I want to tell the rest of this." Trixie's voice trailed off, her eyes sort of glazed over, looking into nowhere in particular.

But Veronica broke the silence in a soft voice. "Trixie you can't stop now, please?"

Trixie looked back at Veronica, finished her glass of wine and held it out for a refill.

"Look Veronica, only Marissa and Charlotte know any of the rest of this. It happened some years ago and I've never told Mike and I never will tell him. You've got to know I love my husband with all my heart. He's a good man, a fantastic father and provider, and he's the only man I've ever been with. It would break his heart if he knew what I did."

Veronica leaned forward, "Trixie, I understand. You can trust me."

With a deep sigh, Trixie continued. "You asked about how the bars close at 2 am? Well Ty mentioned that not everything closes at 2. There are private places that are similar to this club that stay open well into the morning."

"Tell her what they're called!" said Marissa.

Trixie smiled at Marissa then looked at Veronica and said "blind pigs."

Veronica had a confused look.

Charlotte helped her out, "Veronica a blind pig is an illegal bar. It's not licensed, and has a lot of security to make sure it isn't busted by the cops."

Nodding in agreement, Trixie continued, "And the one Ty knew was in a Detroit neighborhood that wasn't good at all. But he could get us in there, and stay into the morning if we want. He said there's also dancing there. But I assumed it was, like, club or bar dancing."

"It wasn't?" asked a wide-eyed Veronica.

"No. But let me tell you, I was excited. Like, c'mon girls, when would I ever have a chance to experience any of this when Mike moves back to the day shift? And tonight, I was in the right place, he was working a lot of overtime, and Ty was a real gentleman. So, I said, "let's go!"

"He had me follow him in my car and we drove to this inner-city neighborhood. You know how some of the neighborhoods still have those burned-out homes? It was in one of those areas. So we pull up outside this one large home. Remember how some of those homes years ago were huge, well-built and the area was clean and safe? It was one of those homes.

"As I got out of my car, a big burly black man came off the stairs of the covered porch and I freaked out. But Ty came up to me and said "it's all good Trixie, he's security, just making sure nothing happens to any of us out here. And when I eventually left, this guy escorted me to my car for the same reason.

"So on the porch we knock, and just like in the movies a slot opens in the door to check us out before opening the door. When we walk in it's obviously supposed to be a living room but there are fold-out chairs around it and a small six-inch high stage just to our left against the wall with a woman dancing on it.

"It was a black woman who was naked, and it wasn't really a dance, it was more of a slow motion movement to show her cooch and ass. And you won't believe this, but in the chairs were a bunch of guys with flashlights shining them on her pussy!"

The girls' faces were partly of confusion, partly of amazement, partly of laughter at the scene just described.

"So Ty takes my hand and we walk across the room in front of the stage to what looked like it was supposed to be a formal dining room where a bar was set up. When we walked in front of the stage there were hoots and cat calls from the audience. I thought they were for the stage dancer but Ty said "the crowd really likes you!" I was shocked.

"At the bar I got a martini and was surprised how good it was. We leaned against the bar and looked at the stage dance, and then this beautiful black woman came into the room from upstairs and started dancing on the stage. She was gorgeous and a lot of flashlights and cash were flashing then!

"My drink was half-empty and the bartender suggested we check out upstairs. Now this was amazing. Upstairs was huge, the length of the house, with a few rooms to the side. There was this draped maroon velvet cloth across the ceiling with dim lighting. Booths in this huge room were velvet, the carpet was red, and there was a long wood bar like you'd find in any old-time bar. The music wasn't too loud, and was light jazz compared to what was blaring downstairs.

"And there was another stage in the corner with a pole, and nice comfy velvet chairs like loveseats spread out in front of it.

"I was quite impressed, and obviously this was all illegal and do you know who was sitting at the bar? Two uniformed police officers having a drink!"

"That's why this place doesn't get raided, Trixie," explained Ty.

"Ty, if this room was anywhere else I'd think we were in a high class establishment!"

He continued, "The upstairs is a lot more classy than downstairs. The home serves both kinds of customers. They get their liquor off-market and cheap, there's no rent to pay, the dancers pay for their time on stage, the drink prices are reasonable, and the protection is paid-off so there's no issue. It's a great deal for everyone. Trixie, will you excuse me for a moment? Why don't you go over to the stage and enjoy the show and wait for me?"

"Ty left and talked to the bartender, shook the police officer's hands, and went into one of the side rooms. I sat on a loveseat and watched this beautiful black dancer move to the light jazz while about a dozen men and women watched and enjoyed their drinks.

"Then a man sat down on my loveseat next to me but didn't look at me but was looking at the stage, and he put his arm around me! I sort of froze, not knowing what to do. I mean, if it was somewhere else I'd slap him or move his arm, but this was such an unfamiliar place I just let his arm sit across my shoulders.

"I wondered where Ty was, then I noticed the man's arm reached down and started lightly touching my boob."

"Oh my god! What did you do!" blurted a shocked Veronica.

"What could I do? I just sat there and sipped my drink as the light touch turned into a massage. I just kept looking straight ahead. A few minutes later the bartender came by with another martini for me and what looked like a bourbon for the man. I don't think I was drunk at all, but I probably had a slight buzz. You know, that kind of buzz you wish you could go through life with?"

The girls all nodded at each other with agreement.

"While I seemed to sit there with no objection, obviously, the man turned his head and started nuzzling my neck. I admit, it was turning me on, and I let out a small moan. I didn't mean to, but I know he either heard or felt it. Next thing you know, my eyes are closed and I feel his other hand stroking my thigh up and down slowly."

"What you don't know, Veronica, is that Trixie has a thing for her thighs getting stroked all the way back to high school. Guys learned about that and thought that would get them to second or third base with her," teased Charlotte.

"Yeah, that's my thing isn't it Char!" Trixie smiled. "Well, his hand went higher and higher while my boob was getting massaged and my nipples rolled and pinched a little and I was getting turned on. So I turned my face toward him and we kissed, and the kiss turned erotic, I mean, it was a tongue dance that turned into a suck-fest. It was like no one else was in the room!"

Trixie paused. Charlotte filled the silence, "and then? C'mon now Trixie, no stopping now."

"I don't know Charlotte. It might not be good for me to re-live any of this."

"It's just us girls Trix. Marissa and I have imagined ourselves as you in our own times with our toys and husbands. We're envious of you and the memory you have."

"Yeah, you've told me that before. But it's been some time since this happened, like, about five years, and you know that now I have some guilt over it. Mike doesn't deserve a cheating wife, and I went too far. I enjoyed it for sure, at the time, but later the guilt bites."

"OK, but at the same time you said it really spiced up your intimacy with Mike, so you have that, right?"

"I do, that's right. It really heightened my sex drive, but I think the guilt was the bigger motivator to try and make it up to him even though he had no idea what I did. And so far it has brought us closer together."

"So you're glad you did whatever it is you haven't yet told me, right? I mean, it worked out well for your marriage." Veronica was thinking about the positive side of the affair.

"I think it worked out well for Mike. He's certainly reaped the benefit of my guilt. But there are times when I loathe myself for what I did, for the risk I took to my marriage. I mean, God, do you know what I'd lose if Mike divorced me? Or what my parents or children would think of me? It makes me shudder."

"But Trix, can you please tell me what happened next?" pleaded Veronica.

Trixie finished her wine and held her glass for yet another refill.

"Where did I leave off? Was it the kissing and fondling? Well, I was so absorbed in the kissing I think I was lost in the emotion. I certainly wasn't paying attention, because I felt the hand come off of my breast and instead felt it on the back of my head. It began to gently push my head down to his lap - and - I can't believe I'm about to tell you this, he had his dick out. And when I saw it I automatically just opened my mouth and took it in!"

'NO! OMG! That's so hot" gushed Veronica with her mouth hung open.

"Yeah, I just can't explain it. I'm not blaming the alcohol. I'd been drinking for several hours but not downing a lot of booze. It was more the mood, the environment, the risk of being out at night without Mike knowing, the gentlemenless of Ty and some of the other men. And I didn't even know the guy I was blowing!

"And as I was leaning over sucking off this unknown guy, his hand had gone around my bum and since my dress was so short it was easy to pull it up enough so he could get past my thong and start fingering me. God, when I felt that I must have moaned into the blow job because he got even harder.

"He started talking to me, like, "that's it baby, you're doing great, you're so beautiful, so hot, you're gorgeous, take that cock all the way, that's it. He was just saying the best things he could possibly say to me at that moment. I even felt proud of the job I was doing, and the combined buzz I had with the pussy fingering was getting me really hot and bothered."

"So did he come? Did you get him off?"

"Oh yeah, I could tell when he was loading up and at the same time his hand held my head there so I knew I'd have to take it in my mouth and probably swallow so I didn't get it over his nice suit. Plus, in a strange way, after he had been saying such nice things about me I wanted to make him proud of my work.

"And yeah, it was pretty much a normal load, several spurts, but I had him near the back of my throat and most of it went straight down. So it wasn't as hard as I thought it might be. Actually, to tell you the truth, I do that for Mike now and he loves it."

"See, Trixie, that's a plus for your marriage!" smiled Veronica, as if she was happy for Trixie.

"I guess. Well girls, when I was done I sat up and smiled and stuck out my tongue and laughed. Ty had walked over to us and introduced me to the man, his friend, Jerome. Jerome, it turns out, was the owner.

"Jerome thanked me for such a great blow job and said I was a natural, and with my body he suggested I could make a lot of money in his establishment. It was flattering and yet embarrassing to hear, you know what I mean? But what could I say, but "thank you Jerome."

"Now if you think the BJ was crazy, listen to this. Jerome suggested I try out dancing on the stage and see how I like it. He'd even pay me $500 cash. I was shocked and laughed at him, I told him 'this old lady, on the stage, dancing?' But he reassured me, he said "when you came in and saw that girl on the stage, I heard all the guys make comments about you. You're hotter than that girl. How about giving it a try?"

"Well I wasn't sure, I told him how embarrassed I'd be. So he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pill in the shape of a circle with a happy face embossed in it. He said to take this and it will help me enjoy myself on stage.

"Now again, he was so nice to me and another drink showed up right then, that I felt like I wanted to make him proud, plus I wanted to fully enjoy this once in a lifetime experience. So I took it. Then that beautiful black girl I had seen downstairs appeared at my side and introduced herself and said she'd teach me a few moves privately.

"So she took me into one of those side rooms and shut the door. As soon as the door was shut I couldn't hear any noise from the other room, so it must have had excellent soundproofing. There was a bed, nightstand, and a few chairs in the room and a pole.

"But the first move she did was walk up to me and kiss me. God, I never really kissed another woman before other than an air kiss or brief peck. But it was hot. She backed up and showed me how to hold the pole and swing around it. I tried it and it started to become fun.

"She talked with me about how to slowly take off my LBD, move on the pole, and tease everyone when removing my bra and eventually my thong. I was turning red at her description, not really thinking I'd even be able to do that.

"Looking back, she was just taking her time so that the little pill started to take effect. I'm pretty sure it was ecstasy. But I started to have this feeling of euphoria, I was happy and I felt drawn to this beautiful woman. I just wanted to be touched. But then she took my hand and let me out of the room back to the stage.

"There you go Trixie, step up and show us watcha' got girl!" She encouraged me.

"I stepped up on the stage, and I noticed a number of men came over to sit on the plush seats and watch me, including the two police officers. At the time I didn't realize it, but when it was all over that night I realized a more sultry set of songs began to play in that upper room and I closed my eyes and started to feel the music.

"My smile must have been a mile wide, I must have been pretty high, the ecstasy really hitting me. I felt so happy, my arms criss-crossed my chest, fondling my boobs. One hand went down on top of my dress, on top of my mound. I kept swaying for I don't know how long.

"But it couldn't have been too long because I remember swinging on that pole, spreading my legs as I swung. Then swaying to the sultry beat and unzipping the back of my little black dress and slowly letting it slip down to my waist, exposing my black bra but hiding my thong. I swayed like that briefly, then dropped the dress and stepped out of it.

"My eyes were scanning the small audience and I felt so connected to those people as if I loved them. I felt so good! Then as I was swaying I reached behind and unsnapped my bra and held it on top of my breasts then slowly lowered it until my nice 40 year old mom boobs felt the cool air conditioning make my nips firm up. But I think they were already firm because I know they were hard and poking out.

"Again I looked out and saw wonderful smiles on my lovely audience who I just wished to hold, but I turned around and like my beautiful black trainer taught me, and I put my thumbs under my thong and slowly slid it off my ass, then bent over and pulled it down to my ankles. I heard clapping, so I twisted around and blew a kiss to the audience.

"I remembered when we walked in how the woman on stage was showing off her cooch, so I tried to imitate her. While I was bent over and had removed my thong, I parted my legs enough for my pussy to show and I wiggled my ass back and forth.

"Then I stood up and turned around and started humping the pole, holding on to it with one hand while my other was playing with my nipple and I was grinding my clit and pussy lips against the pole. It was so hot, so wonderful, so fulfilling. It might have been the ecstasy but with my eyes closed I could just feel the looks of passion from my lovely audience, I felt the cool air across my body, my mind was within my body enjoying the hot sensations moving throughout and building up.

"Maybe it didn't take long or maybe I was up there a while, I just don't know. But I do know it built up to the point where I orgasmed. I'm sure everyone saw my chest, neck and face flush and my face appeared in that beautiful agony of orgasm.

"I sort of came out of it when I heard whistles and clapping, and when I opened my eyes I saw Ty and Jerome come up to the stage and thanked me and complimented me, taking my hand and walking me off the stage. I hugged both of them and held on to them, my skin just loved the touch of the men.

"Jerome introduced me to the two police officers and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm still naked except for my heels! The white guy was Officer Jones and the black guy was Officer Williams. Jerome said "Trixie, these two officers are very important to me and they appreciated your dance. I'm wondering if you could do me a favor and spend some time with them?"

"I was in such a great mood I gave Jerome a very erotic kiss, and looked at the two policemen and felt drawn to them. I'm sure it was the ecstasy, but I reached out and took their hands and said where do you want to spend some time together?

"They led me to one of the side rooms, another very quiet room with a large king-size bed. I remember lots of kissing, and somehow I had remained naked except for my high-heels, I think my dress was still on the stage. And soon both the policemen were naked as well.

"One was in front of me and one in back, and I was kissing one then turning my head over my shoulder to kiss the other. One was fondling my tits and pinching my nipples while the other had a hand in my front stroking my pussy and the other on my ass.

"The one in front would lean against me and I could feel an obviously aroused dick, which momentarily brought a memory back to me of why I went out tonight, to get poked. I wanted cock!

"The one in back started kissing my neck and pulled me back into him. I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips, I don't think I had ever been so aroused in my life. You know I'd never had two men at the same time, so this was so hot and exciting and new to me.

"The one in front got down on his knees and started kissing and licking my pussy while the man in back was kneading my nipples and beginning to rub his cock in my ass crack. The fire was raging through my body and my skin was so sensitive to the touch, you can't imagine the feeling!"

Charlotte, Marissa, and Veronica were looking in amazement at Trixie, who seemed to be in a daze, in an emotional box of memories. They saw Trixie fingering her clit through her shorts, as if she was still in the room with the police officers.

"The one that was on his knees was excellent at oral, and in no time my pussy gushed and my knees buckled. Fortunately the guy in back held me up, and gently laid me on the bed. Somehow I had a cock in my hand near my mouth but I felt a firm rod with the silky head pressing at my opening.

"I remember opening my legs wide so his body would fit between my legs. It was the black guy, and his cock was pretty thick because I remember him telling me how tight this bitch was. Calling me a bitch made me wrap my legs around him and pull him in. It felt so good.

"He kept talking to me, like, "take that cock baby girl, tell me you're my whore, tell me you like black cock, tell me I'm better than your husband." I can't remember everything because I had a dick in my mouth too, but I do remember saying some of those things to him.

"One thing I really remember is how hot my pussy was. It was like molten lava, but I loved it. And when that black cock came, his spunk seemed even hotter than my pussy and it just pushed me over the edge to one of the greatest orgasms I ever had. I think the cock in my mouth slipped out, I don't remember.

"But I do know when I came back around the white cop's dick was fucking me hard and the black cop had my arms up behind my head. I was getting ruthlessly fucked which was exactly what I needed, my itch was not only being scratched, it was being completely fulfilled.

"How many times did I come with those two guys? I've tried to reminisce and count but I just can't come up with a number. Now, here's another really embarrassing part that happened."

Trixie gulped the rest of her wine and held out her glass again for another fill-up.

"They're cops, right? And what equipment do cops have? Handcuffs!"

Lots of gasps from the three women engrossed in the story.

"They handcuffed my wrists together and to the headboard, then opened the door. The next thing I know is Jerome is putting another one of those yellow smiley pills in my mouth, and a bunch of men start to come into the room and line up.

"All I can remember is hearing things like demeaning type of talk, calling me bitch, whore, baby momma, tight snatch, and whatever. None of it had any meaning to me because my body was simply responding to all the fucking I was getting. Some of the men would plunge in and frantically pump for a minute and blast they cum in me or on me and others seem to lay on me and take their time.

"But all in all, I don't know how many guys took me that night. But I woke up about 4am and two of the black dancers had been wiping me down with wet washcloths to clean me up and helped me get dressed. I was pretty tired from the alcohol and drugs but alert enough to get home by 5 am, about an hour before Mike would get home.

"So I took a quick shower and got in bed and fell asleep. Mike must have come home and come to bed as well, because I woke up around 11 am. I was surprised at how late I had slept since I'm usually up at 7, but of course, it had been a long night.

"This is when the guilt hit me as I looked at my husband laying there snoring after a 17 hour shift. I snuck out of bed, found my clothes from last night and took them out to the garbage. I didn't want any hint of what happened. Then I showered again, this time taking my time, then went down and made breakfast. And that was about it."

"Wait, Trixie, you mean to tell me you went to a strip club, then a blind pig, got felt up and fingered while blowing some stranger, then made out with a woman, did a stripper dance in front of a crowd until you were naked, then took drugs and fucked two police officers followed by a gangbang? And that was about it? Are you kidding me? That's awesome!" Veronica was excited and aroused.

"And Mike never found out," stated Marissa.

"No, and I haven't told this story to anyone for a few years, only Charlotte and Marissa one night when the boys were gone to watch the playoffs. And now you Veronica.

"But listen, this is all between us. I shouldn't have done what I did. I admit it was great, but it was wrong. I consoled myself that this was a lapse, a transient lapse, just an indiscretion that I'll soon forget. I know my husband trusts me and I trust him. I don't want to break that trust with him ever, I don't know if we'd ever get it back."

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Veronica. "You said you had an itch to scratch, that Mike was on afternoons for a while and your sex life was impacted. Is that the real reason you did all this?"

"I think so. If Mike was around I never would have even had my mind wander to anything like being with another man. No way. I just think the lonely time let my mind wander and I started looking around, then my physical needs sort of took over, and I just let my curiosity roam. Maybe too far.

"It's like, the more you get into something exciting the more you want it. And looking at the stripper sites, the handsome men, watching some porn videos, the more my mind started to think this was normal, you know what I mean?"

"It sounds to me that you felt you weren't attractive to Mike, either that or that you were losing your attraction to him after looking at all those sites? Suggested Marissa.

"No, not at all, it isn't like that. I think I look pretty good at my age. I'm pretty fuckable, I get hit on at times and that's nice. But I never thought about acting on it. The strip club and blind pig, that sort of all happened like I was just drifting on a river. It didn't seem to take much effort, I just went along with it all. All that happened that night wasn't really any of my original intent."

"Except the dick fucking." noted Charlotte dryly.

"Haha, yeah, that," agreed Trixie. "But it had nothing to do with my attraction to Mike. He's a handsome man and the best husband I could ever have."

"You know you've made him a cuckold, right Trixie?" asked Melissa.

"What? No I didn't." Trixie responded with a look of disgust, taking offense at the statement..

"Sure you did. You cucked him with other men. He may be an unwilling or unknowing cuck, but that's what he is now. He just doesn't know it."

"And he better not know any of this girls! I mean it. If you ever tell him I swear there's no end to the trouble I'll make for you." Trixie said this with determination, just to ensure her secret.

"Don't worry, Trixie, it's all between us." All the girls agreed to never bring this up again.

* * * *

So here I am down in the basement listening to the entire story, probably as mesmerized as Veronica with the depravity of Trixie, my wife. All these multiple emotions clouded my mind. Anger. Rage. The blindness of betrayal, and the pain of betrayal. This blended together with no warmth, compassion, or tenderness toward Trixie. At the same time, I felt I loved Trixie with everything. The conflict was enormous.

I was lost, I didn't know what to do, but one thought that seemed primary within the blender of emotions in my head was: "I don't see Trixie and I growing old together."

I left and drove to the bar and had a few beers, then ordered up a hamburger and watched some TV. My eyes were fixed on the television but I was seeing nothing. My mind was alive with questions and possibilities and wonders.

At the plant there have been more than enough divorces among the men for me to know what would happen if that was my decision. The house equity would be split, my 401k balance split along with the checking and savings. My investments as well would be halved. No child support, but certainly alimony for several years.

In my head I made a mental calculation and the bottom line number would be easy to live on, even with the alimony. I made good money, and 20 years of 401k deposits and investment gains, halved, still would leave enough that with another five years at the plant and I could retire at a relatively young age and do something else. Or, even just stay in my job easily another ten years..

What would Trixie do? She'd probably fight a divorce. In her story I heard all her statements about how this was a one-off, how it all sort of happened and she just went with it. And she'd probably say how well we have got along even though I didn't know what she had done. Of course, now I DO know.

And that changes everything.

Should I burn her? Shame her? Leave her? Or should I even leave her, just stay? Should I just pretend I don't know anything about her affair night and just control my thoughts and live out life with her?

Shit. Here's really the problem:

The problem with betrayal is that it is not an event. It is a process. It is a slow, creeping thing that seeps into every nook and cranny of your thoughts. It can't be avoided, and it is bound to come out sooner or later.

Well, the kids were doing internships up at Michigan State, about two hours away. So I called them and asked if I could come up and have dinner with them. They wondered if their Mom was coming and I explained she was having a girls afternoon at the pool.

With the two hour drive to East Lansing I tried to put my thoughts in order. I need some time to process all of this. This is a huge, big decision, with a big impact on my family, marriage, finances, relatives, and the rest of my life.

Yelling "FUCK!" I banged the steering wheel, opened the window on the highway, and started cursing every vile thing I could think of into the wind to drain some of the emotion percolating in my body so I could try and enjoy my time with my kids.

But as soon as they saw me they immediately recognized something was very wrong. As Samantha gave me a hug, she felt a jolt. It was a sob I tried to hold in.

"Dad? What's wrong?" she asked.

I couldn't even look at the kids. Samantha quickly grabbed me in another hug and I broke down crying hard as we held each other. Steven looked on with concern.

He said, "Dad, let's go somewhere for a drink and talk. Tell us what's wrong after we get some food."

It was an early Saturday evening in the campus bar in a booth near the back. I downed a shot quickly and ordered another. Basically, the silence between the three of us was uncomfortable, and raised the spectre of something really, really bad.

"Ok kids. What I have to tell you is really bad, and it's really confidential. You both are my pride and joy and I'm proud of your accomplishments in school and I'm always going to support you. But I've got to tell you something just to get it off my chest, and hopefully, get some perspective from both of you.

"You'll be upset, probably really angry. But just let me explain everything first, ok?"

"Oh my God Dad, you cheated on Mom!" blurted Steven.

"What? Dad? Is that true?" Samantha asked, her facial features showing anger.

"Huh? What? NO! NO, not at all! How could you even think that of me!" I responded with shock. "I've never cheated on your mother, not even close!"

The kids looked at each other with relief, but then recognition.

Samantha hung her head in her hands, her elbows propped up on the table. "Oh no, then it's Mom."

Steven was looking at Samantha, then slowly turned his head to me. I imagine I had the saddest, most forlorn eyes he'd ever seen.

The silence answered the question.

"She doesn't know that I know, yet. I don't know what to do." I related the basics of the story to these young adults who had their entire future ahead of them.

Tears flowed between all three of us, after all, betrayal and grief need to flow out of a human body to prevent other more harmful emotions from taking over. This eventually led to a reasonable and factual conversation.

Samantha reasoned, "this wasn't a moment of weakness. This had developed over some time with the things she filled her mind with, things that a married woman shouldn't emotionally consider because that's cheating in itself. So rather than a moment of weakness, it seems to me it was a path she chose to walk that led to all this."

Steven added, "there were plenty of times she could have said no, or shut it down, or shunned those thoughts or desires... "

"Or at least talked with you about them," interrupted Samantha. "And what makes it worse, Dad, is that in that entire night she never once mentioned she was thinking of you."

"Or of us," Steven reminded them. "Did she think of her family and the consequences if she got caught? She didn't think she'd get caught which is why she did it. To me, if I had a girlfriend acting like that, I'd dump her. I couldn't trust her. How would I know that if I wasn't around and she could get away with something, that she wouldn't just do it?"

"And that's my problem Steven. I know she'll say we've been good these past five years or so when I didn't know about it and she'd be right. But now I do know about it, and you know something? I think it's even worse after five years than if she told me about it the next day.

"It's like the cheating's been multiplied and inflated over the years. Every time we've been intimate - I know kids don't like to hear about their parents sex lives - but every time was she thinking about that night? Or was she thinking of me? How many of those times were really lies? How many times could she have come forward but didn't?

"You see, I have a hard time processing that, and I don't know if there's an answer, or if there is if it would be satisfying."

Steven thought for a moment. "What about marriage counseling? Maybe that might provide an answer?"

"Maybe." I admitted. "But, some part of me wants to forgive her, to go back to the life we had constructed. But another part of me knows that I'd never see her the same way again. That part of my life, of our life, is gone.

"I need your true feelings on something, kids. Just tell me the truth of how you will feel if I pursue a divorce."

Surprisingly, the kids didn't slump back in their seats. They looked at me, then at each other. Samantha spoke first, "Dad, this is your decision as far as I'm concerned, and I'll support you with whatever decision you make. You're my father, and will always be my father. And my Mom will always be my mother."

Steven added, "I feel the same way. We all get along pretty good. We've had disagreements, I know I made your life difficult when I was a teenager but I've wised up and we're still close. Maybe you and I will have another dustup in the future, but you'll always be my father and I'll always love you and we'll always be close.

"As for Mom, she made her choices as well but she'll always be Mom. And even if you do split up I'm going to be there for her as well as for you. So I agree with Sam, it's your decision either way."

How did I get such wonderful children? My heart swelled with pride at how mature they've grown. And in such a difficult situation how well they reasoned. The mood lightened, so I thanked them, and said "let's just eat these burgers and you tell me how your internships are going?"

By sunset I had dropped the kids back at their student housing and checked my phone and saw several missed calls from Trixie and several texts wondering where I was. I didn't answer.

By 11pm I was home and Trixie was watching the late night talk shows when I walked in. She put down her glass of wine and gave me the evil eye. "Where have you been and why didn't you call?"

I just stood and looked at her with a plain face. Trixie's face scrunched up as if she saw something she couldn't make out. Maybe I looked different? I'll tell you this, in terms of my feelings I felt disturbingly detached. I just walked down the hallway to the bathroom and took a shower.

By the time she went to bed I was already asleep. In the morning when she woke she didn't find me home.. She texted with no response, and called and left a voicemail. She knew my lack of response was quite unusual and I'm pretty sure she was getting pissed at me.

There's a benefit to maintaining good relationships with the employees. I went down to the local union hall where I knew many of the workers and knew they'd have a Sunday breakfast and I'd be welcomed. The breakfast was nice, but nicer was seeing a couple of the union attorneys.

They were able to recommend a divorce attorney, Scarlett Jennings. She was quite a shark, and didn't like men that much, but when I got an appointment on Monday she agreed to take my case after listening to Trixie's recorded conversation. Basically I had it right, how the divorce would go.

Well that evening when I got home I fully expected a confrontation with Trixie. After all, I avoided her from Saturday afternoon all the way through Sunday. It wasn't exactly the kind I was expecting, you know, yelling and screaming at me.

Instead she was curled up on the sofa with her bare feet curled under her, looking over to me as I walked in the front door. She didn't say anything but her eyes were red, obviously from crying.

So what do I say? Do I say, "hey you fucking cheating slut, how ya' doing tonight?" Do I say, "evening honey, hope you had a nice day?" Shit, it would have been easier if she just came at me screaming. Now I'm the one who acts like the asshole.

Suddenly an escape set of words hit me. "Hey Trixie, had dinner with the kids and they said hello. I'm headed to bed, early shift tomorrow." What I said was truthful, but my omission was that it was yesterday that I saw the kids. Today I just hung out at the union hall.

Her face showed surprise, clearly wondering how I went up to see the kids without her, and without inviting her, and without even letting her know I was going. And I didn't even offer an explanation when I came in.

In the bedroom I admit I faked being asleep when she came in. Surely she wanted to talk, but thankfully I fell asleep in no time.

Monday I was up and out quickly, hitting the plant floor and doing the usual start-up chaos of a production line. But I hit up the plant manager and explained a sanitized version of my marital situation and told him I wanted the rest of the week off.

In automotive assembly it's like management is never supposed to take time off. It's part of the toughness culture. But fuck it. They need me. So I'll take the beating, the "don't you care about what we do here?" accusations. But I got the time off after taking a little ass ripping.

By the way, for those of you who've never worked in a major automotive factory, you may think all this "ass-ripping" stuff is made up. And if you think that, let me tell you, you'd never survive in this environment.

And before you think less of me for taking an ass-ripping, deserved or not, you should see me when I rip ass. It's not pretty. I've got plenty of names and asses in my file cabinets I assure you.

So after work I met with Scarlett as I said, we fleshed out the divorce papers and splits, I was given a tick-list of things to do and she let me use a computer in the conference room to start on my accounts. By the time I got home I had printed out everything and split the accounts appropriately, even got a Realtor to give me a ballpark estimate on our home value.

The trick, though, was the alimony. Trixie had never worked. She pretty much has had her entire life financed by my work. And you know what pisses me off the most? Somehow she felt that the work I did to support her, even if it had to be the afternoon shift for a few months, it wasn't good enough to keep her mouth and legs closed to other men's penises..

I knew some people at the corporate headquarters and made a few inquiries. Things were good in the industry, which ran in cycles of good and lean times. So there were some jobs available in the corporate lunchroom, and different assembler jobs in a number of the local plants.

So to help reduce my alimony, Scarlett wrote up a requirement that Trixie take gainful employment with the stipulation that I help her find better paying jobs than just, for example, becoming some commission-only real estate person. Or a grocery check-out lady.

Now, I had put off the real confrontation for three days now and I was all out of delay tactics. Sooner or later today I'd have to go home, and wasn't sure what to expect. Scarlett said that she could have Trixie served on Wednesday.

Well, I've been in tense and tough battles at the plant. The best way to handle this at home is to just step forward and get into it. And that's what I did.

Intentionally I picked up dinner before I got home, simply because if she had already made dinner I wanted to be a jerk and refuse it. And that happened.

Walking in the door, she was fit to be tied. "Why weren't you home at your regular time? I made our dinner and it's been sitting on the table for the last few hours!" she yelled. No tears today.

"Already ate." I said in a flat tone, just looking at her. My expression was the one I used many times on the factory floor, the look of "I dare you, just dare you to take me on right now."

Trixie knew that look. We had our share of marital arguments over the years, who hasn't? Are you my dear reader going to act all high and mighty on me as you read this, like you haven't been an asswipe to your spouse in an argument?

So it was on. She yelled back, "What's up your ass Mike? You don't tell me where you're going. You see our kids and don't even tell me. You stay out all day and get your own dinner when you damn well know I'm cooking? What the fuck's going on with you?"

Time to fight back nasty! "What's going on with me? I'll tell you. I just felt that I can do what I want, and as long as you don't know what I'm doing then it should be all fine with you!"

Now that wasn't really a sensible statement to make in a fight, but surely you readers can see I intended a double meaning and wondered if she'd catch on.

Nope. "What the hell are you talking about? We always communicate with each other!"

Interrupting her next words, I said, "We do, do we?"

Jerking her head back, as in "WTF?" that set her back for only a few moments, wondering probably why I was disputing our need to communicate, "Yes, we do. It's disrespectful to keep your spouse in the dark, doing things that I could do with you, that we could do with each other like you did with the kids this weekend. That really hurts my feelings."

Wow. I didn't expect that response but it really helped set me up with my argument.

"Trixie, I agree 100%." Now she'll think she won the argument.

"Well fuckin' thanks for admitting it but that's not much of an apology."

"Is it so important for me to apologize?"

"Yes, and it's important you tell me what you've been doing these last couple of days. I feel left out, in the dark, and I don't like it and you've really hurt my feelings."

"OK, and if I apologize to you, then you'll apologize to me and fill me in on what you've left me out of?"

"What? What the hell are you talking about Mike? What's got into you?"

Now the clincher. "What got into me? Not nearly as much as what you let get into you!" I spat those words with venom and a glare.

Trixie's mouth opened in shock. I know she was wondering what I was talking about, and I'm sure she didn't think it was good old Ty and Jerome and her fuckbuddy police officers.

Her eyebrows fell and her eyes squinted as if she was thinking and she actually silently mouthed the words "let get into you" as if she was trying to figure out the word choice. She probably thought I should have said "Not as much as got into you," instead of "as what you let get into you."

Looking at me with narrowed eyes, still mouthing the "let get into you" words silently, I just glared back at her, letting it sink in, looking for a sign, a blink of recognition.

There it was! For just a moment her eyes opened and blinked, then probably in an instant reaction became narrow again. Yeah, she wondered if I knew. But would she say anything?

The best defense is a good offense, and Trixie was pretty good at arguing with me. "Mike, we've had our share of arguments over our 25 years of marriage. But I don't understand you this time. You're not making sense. What kind of argument is this? You messed up. You haven't communicated with me. You're guilty of all this and you don't even admit it, much less apologize but have to argue with me, your own wife!"

I felt she was going to lean toward the tears with those words but didn't. Now for the kill.

"Trixie, you say communication is important to you, yes? You say it's not good for your spouse to feel left out, right? You say it's important for us to do things together, right? You mention our 25 years of marriage as if 25 years are so important, right?"

Nodding, she said, "of course that's what I said. Are you implying 25 years of marriage isn't important to you? Mike, those 25 years are important to me goddammit!"

I let the silence begin to sit, and sit, and sit, while looking at her.

"25 years Trixie. 25 years. They're important to you? But you squandered all those years for a bit of excitement over 12 hours."

That was all I was going to say for the rest of the night, that was my closing line, my wrap up. There was nothing more powerful I could say, anything else would diminish the impact of those words.

Trixie heard those words while looking at me with her narrowed eyes of accusation, having felt just moments ago that her reasoning was sound of how my behavior was insulting to our 25 years.

But now, what I had just said, so softly and deliberately, were the loudest words spoken tonight.

I could tell her mind was thinking "what is he referring to?" And certainly in her thoughts I'm sure in short order it would hit on the 12 hours at the stripper bar and blind pig. But would she admit it? We'll have to see.

Interestingly, she had no response. And as they say, the first person that speaks, loses.

So I turned and went up to the bathroom and showered and got ready for bed. I did peek down the hallway and she was sitting at the dining room table with a glass of wine. She was thinking.

I was once again faking sleep when she came to bed. She sat in bed for a few minutes, probably looking at my back turned to her, hoping to have a conversation, or maybe dreading a conversation. I don't know. Either way, I knew this was the beginning of the end.

Even though I had the rest of the week off, I still got up early, but she got up early as well and was already downstairs making breakfast. So I came down fully dressed heading for the door.

"Wait, Mike, please have some breakfast."

I stopped for a moment to consider if that was wise or not, and decided what the hell, just plow forward. So I sat and she set a nice breakfast and coffee in front of me - which I ate silently as she sat across from me and stared.

No talking for me, at least I wasn't going to be the first. But she was. "Mike, what's going on?"

No talking from me. I just stabbed another piece of bacon and stuffed it in my mouth.

"Mike, I'm sorry how things went last night. I was frustrated and felt I had good reason for it. Can we just forgive each other and move on, please?"

There it was. She knew what she did, suspected I did too, and was hoping to just move on and not address it. However -

No talking from me, although I did pause and look up in a thinking position for a moment, then shook my head 'no' and continued eating.

"I don't understand what we're fighting for Mike. We've always talked things out. I mean, if you need more time, I guess I can understand but it hurts me."

Putting my fork down, scooting my chair back to stand up, I talked. "No, we haven't always talked things out, have we? And as for how it hurts you, you deserve it." I walked out while she sat in shock with tears running down her face.

Since I had Tuesday off, I set up a new bank account in my name only then went to my bank and took half. I went to my broker and got paperwork together to split the account, then went over to the plant and met with HR to get the paperwork together to split the 401k, and work on a new direct deposit to my new bank account.

Basic stuff, I know you readers know all that but I guess I have to write it here.

But by noon I was done, headed over to Scarlett's and signed the divorce papers so she could file them and have them served tomorrow.

She's a pretty good attorney, and insightful. She asked me if I thought this was going too quickly, and if I considered how single life would be? Truthfully, I had not considered that. I just figured I'd initially do a lot of overtime and bank some money, rebuild some of my assets.

But eventually I'd need to find someone because I really like being married. I don't see retirement in the near future, yeah, I've got enough years with the company but I'm still young. Why not keep working?

Those aren't really satisfactory answers, I know. I really believe I don't want to think that far into the future. All I know is my trust in my wife is completely gone.

I met with the Realtor and got a decent comparative marketing analysis. She had some one bedroom rentals listed as well, which looked affordable for me. We went and checked out a few that had nice exercise facilities, a pool, and covered parking. I asked her to draw up a lease and get things moving.

The rest of the day I got lunch, saw two movies, went to a bar for dinner and to watch a game, and then headed home hoping to just go to bed and get out of the house before the process server showed up in the morning.

Not to be.

"Mike, thank god your home. We've never been this mad at each other, we've got to settle this."

"Trixie, I'm tired and want to go to bed. I think things will be settled in the morning." I headed to the bedroom.

She followed me and said in a pleading and whining way, "Mi-ike" as if my name were two syllables. "Please, let's talk!"

Quickly I spun around right in her face, looking down at my beautiful wife, and spat "about what?"

She backed up, caught off guard and a little frightened, looking at me with fearful or worried eyes. "We need to talk about us."

"That's pretty generic, don't you think Trix?"

"Um, uh, come on Mike, give me a break, please!!? What's going on? I don't understand! You're scaring me!"

You know, in a perverse way I was sorta happy that she was worried and scared. Maybe it was the resentment that was clouding my mind, and her fears felt like a righteous result to her infidelity. So I just let them inhabit her thoughts and turned and went to bed.

But she was not deterred and came to the bedside and knelt and tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away.

"Trixie, leave me alone, and if you don't I'll leave and get a hotel room for the night. Don't mess with me tonight. I'm telling you!"

She recoiled in horror at my anger, trying to figure out if she should continue to pursue the issue or not. I don't know if she was feeling any guilt over her cheating, or if she had even thought that was the issue. Clearly she'd been in her own lonely thoughts all day ruminating on this. In some way I had hoped she would at least come clean and get it out.

Well she left the room and fled to the living room. I couldn't sleep, but I snuck down the hallway and heard her on her phone. I think it was Charlotte, most likely. Trixie basically recounted my behavior since Saturday afternoon, and said she didn't understand what's gotten into me, and that I said some strange things.

There was a pause in the conversation when Charlotte was talking, then Trixie responded, "yeah, I asked what got into him and he said "Not nearly as much as what you let get into you!" I don't understand that, it's weird Charlotte."

She listened to Charlotte a little more and then gasped, "you don't think he does, do you? How? How could he?" She listened more.

"Yeah, he said other things. I confronted him and tried to guilt him about our 25 years of marriage and he just said - wait - - - oh no, I think I get it now. Oh no Charlotte, this might be it and it's really bad. Oh my God, CHARLOTTE WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?"

Trixie just started crying into the phone uncontrollably. After gathering herself she said to Charlotte, "he said I squandered 25 years of marriage for 12 hours of excitement."

Truthfully I felt bad for Trixie. I've lived and loved her for 25 years. We did almost everything together, worked toward our goals together, and raised two wonderful children together. But she did this to herself, and there was nothing I could do to comfort her. The genie couldn't be put back in the bottle. How do you unfuck yourself?

"Charlotte, if that is what it is, I don't know how to handle it. I hope it's not, I hope he's just had some bad days at work or something, but after five years? If that's what it is - oh my god, my life is over."

There was nothing more for me to hear. I didn't think she'd approach me any more tonight, so I went to bed.

The next morning I awoke to the smell of bacon and sausage, but I knew I had to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I showered and dressed and headed for the door. Trixie called out, "hey Mike, breakfast! Your breakfast is ready!"

"Gotta go Trixie! See you later!" and I hustled out the door.

I went over to Scarlett's office only because I had nowhere else to go. Shit, this breaking up crap is a pain in the ass. Too much emotion, nothing good coming from any of this, a lot of expense, and in the end two people who trusted each other end up alone, maybe pissed, angry, or hurt at each other.

One almost wonders, 'what's the point of all this?' I mean, was all of this necessary? Why the hell would somebody mess up 25 years for a fling? I wonder if all those people who fucked up their marriages by cheating ever look back and think, "what was I thinking? I must have been insane to go through all this!"

At 8:35 Charlotte got a text message and opened it, then pushed her phone across her desk to me. I looked at the text, it was a picture of our front door, Trixie in her bathrobe holding a manilla folder with a look of shock on her face.

Moments later my phone started ringing. Trixie. I let it go to voicemail. Then there was a text, then another call. I shut off my phone and asked for a cup of coffee.

"Hey Mike, give her a couple hours then go home. You've got to address this now that this is all official and moving forward. She needs to get an attorney, she'll probably want some explanation. She'll plead her case and that part is up to you how to handle it. You had 25 good years, so don't be a jerk. Just move this forward if that is what you really want." Scarlett looked at me with sympathy.

So I drove around, took an early lunch, and before heading home I turned on my phone to catch up on the texts and voicemail messages. I thought it best to pre-hear the arguments I'm walking into. Some were tearful, some were angry, all of them were hurt, all ended with pleadings.

I felt like an asshole at that moment, but I wasn't the one that caused this.

Upon entering my home my soon to be ex-wife was still in her bathrobe sitting on the couch with a mess of tissues all around her.

She didn't look at me. All she said was "why, Mike?"

I sat across from her, waiting for her to look at me, and when she did I said, "Ty and Jerome and a couple of police officers."

Her face did that scrunched up thing that happens just before someone begins wailing and crying. I just sat there. Eventually she was able to talk.

"Mike, I swear it didn't mean anything, it had no meaning!"

"Really Trixie, that's what you're going with? It meant enough for you to lie to me, to betray me. That's all that matters."

"But it wasn't my intention. It just happened, you've got to believe me."

"Well, if only intentions could heal wounds but they can't. It happened, and here we are.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive me."

"You didn't mean to hurt me? Maybe next time you decide to spread your legs you can try harder not to hurt me. Maybe put in a little extra effort, okay?"

Perhaps it's only natural for cheaters to reason out things this way, that it had no meaning, no intent, not meaning to hurt anyone. With just a little change in wording those work for pretty much any indiscretion or violation, right?

"Mike, please, I want to fight for us. Please?!

"You want to fight? For us? Tell me Trixie, who are you fighting? It's yourself. For me, there's nothing to fight for. The past, all those years! Those years were tossed out as nothing, they're gone. All there are is many nice memories for you. And for me, all those nice memories and one terrible one.

"We had something beautiful, Trixie. We worked together for so many years toward our goals. We have no debt, I have a good job, we raised good kids. But we had that, past tense Trixie.

"What we need to do now is work together on dividing things up peacefully and moving on separately."

"I don't want to be separate from you. I need you Mike. You're my rock."

"I don't want to hear that from you. I've loved you, at times spoiled you, cared for you and the kids. I've been dependable and unlike you, I've been faithful. Haven't I always made sure our family was taken care of? And how do you reward me? By disrespecting me and cheating on me like a lowly whore.

"If I was such a rock that you needed, why did you look at all those guys online? Why did you search out the Male Revue and why did you grab a dick to stroke? Why would you go alone to an inner city neighborhood with a man you don't even know for a drink, or permit another man to grope you, make you suck him off and swallow, and do a strip tease? Not to mention your gangbang.

"I just don't understand Trixie."

"It, it, it was a moment of weakness."

"Bullshit. It wasn't a weakness. You said to the girls you just went with the flow, like drifting on a river. That's such nonsense. You enjoyed every minute of it, and not once did you think of me as your rock when you had a rock hard dick in your mouth or cunt."

She cringed at the "c" word. It was the first time I ever said it to her. But at this moment I was getting my pound of flesh. It was a fucked up way of getting a sort of therapy.

"How did you find out Mike?" she asked weepily.

"The basement was musty on Saturday when I was doing paperwork so I opened the basement window and heard your story. Besides, I can't believe you forgot there were cameras that would record everything you said!"

Her face fell with that realization, and she leaned forward with her head on her knees.

"You killed us, Trixie. You killed us. All these years I've worked different shifts, and this time you wanted dick and went about how to find it. Even your girlfriends couldn't go with you because their husband knew what probably would happen. Didn't that tell you something?

"And not only did you violate our vows, you hid all this from me for years! How many times did we make love and you thought about all those dicks in your cunt that got you to orgasm? Huh? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"I didn't Mike, I swear, it was all you I thought about."

"Yeah? Tell me, am I supposed to TRUST you for that? Trust. Trust. TRUST! I don't trust you anymore, and never can again!

"And tell me this, you don't want a divorce so let's pretend I tear up the papers and we stick together. Melissa knows what that makes me, doesn't she. Say it Trixie. Say it."

"No, I won't. You're not that."

"Oh, but if I hang around that's exactly what I am. And your friends will know it. And now that I know it, how do you know your friends won't conveniently bring it up on one of their drunken girls nights, or blab it to their husbands?

"The point is, you don't know. And I don't know when you're telling me the truth anymore, or if you're hiding something. You said "oh Mike we have to communicate!" Trixie, you don't have the credibility to say that anymore.

"I don't know what the future holds for either of us, but it will not be us together. The kids said they'll support any decision I make and they'll still love each of us as their mother and father. We have some pretty smart and pretty good kids.

"But for us, it's over. Get a lawyer to review the paperwork. I've treated you fairly. I've got everything arranged. If you want the house you've got to buy me out, and you've got to get a job. There are a few assembler job openings at a few of the plants they're holding open for you to choose. It's good money and good benefits."

"Mike, I have to go to work? You're kidding, right? Please, please don't leave me."

"Of course you've got to go to work. The financial split won't carry you the rest of your life, and I'm damn sure not going to pay alimony indefinitely where it might go to more gangbangs with your fuckbuddies."

"They're not my fuckbuddies Mike! How can you say that!"

"Seems an appropriate description to me.."

"Please Mike, it was one time out of all those years. I messed up, I admit that. I got carried away by the excitement, the naughtiness. I admit I wasn't thinking of the right things, and I don't know how I got so far away from who I am. But please let's get counseling and work together and stay together. It's 25 years Mike!"

"Not gonna happen Trixie."

Needless to say, sleeping that night was difficult. She cried a lot, I felt like shit. Sometimes I felt this was all my fault, but I just can't get my mind away from the trust issue.

Would counseling help? Maybe it would explain a few things, but then I'd still be a cuck if I stayed. And what if this got out around the guys at the plant? My life would be insufferable.

Trixie got the kids involved, but they backed off this quickly. Her parents and my parents were shocked, neighbors and friends were shocked. Charlotte, Marissa, and Veronica were devastated and looked at Trixie with sadness, and treated her like she had a disease.

And because of the divorce becoming known, those three "friends" of Trixie couldn't keep their damn mouths closed as to the reason why. And they stayed away from Trixie out of embarrassment from not keeping her confidence.

Now Trixie understands the trust issue better.

But when it all came out, I looked pretty good not putting up with a cheating wife. I was no cuck and I had respect from some of the guys that heard about it.

Eventually all the papers were signed, the home sold, all the accounts properly split. Clearly Trixie's standard of living fell a little, and with no one to support her she had to take an assembler job on the production line. It paid well, good benefits, but it was tiring for her to get up early and work nine hours and go home and take care of herself.

What happened to me? I'm in my mid-forties, losing the Dad body, getting more exercise and recreation, meeting new people. I'm basically just past the prime of life but in good health, good finances, good job, no kids at home, and a good reputation as a provider, as a faithful man, trustworthy.

So there are plenty of women out there interested in me. I'm learning that lots of women at this age have issues, and having already been married 25 years I also have my preferences at this point. So I don't think there will be any firm relationship for me in the near future.

Trixie is beautiful. Plenty of guys have always made advances over the years, same thing now. I'm not really interested in what she's doing, but the kids tell me she's been seeing a therapist for depression.

We'll eventually see each other at the kids' college graduation, marriages, grandchildren's births, and so on. I have every intention of being cordial, but I'm not going to rehash any of our past. Maybe when things get boring and routine we'll finally share some holidays together.

Is there a lesson in this? Sure there is.

First, trust is the foundation of any relationship. Don't fuck with it, and don't even think you're too smart and clever to fuck with it and get away with it. You're not.

Second, if you mess up, better communicate it quickly and resolve it. Letting something fester, or hiding it means it will only grow like a bad fungus and infect everything you do.

Lastly, if you divorce, realize all it does is cost money, separate everything you've ever accomplished, and doesn't necessarily resolve the underlying issue that causes the divorce.

So you can't control what other people do, but you can control yourself. And if you don't, remember other people have their choice of how to respond to your lack of control.