Unwanted Affair Pt. 01

Covid was a killer... we didn't personally know anyone that died... but we suffered as it attacked our life. We didn't know it at the time, but Covid was directly responsible for killing our marriage, the lockdown destroyed our relationship; we became irritated with each other, distant, hardly talking anymore; yet we were trapped together.

Bruce had to take a pay cut to avoid company lay-offs. The business where Ashley worked couldn't produce and were forced to shut down, causing a huge blow to their income, and their lifestyle relied on two incomes. Her unemployment benefits expired, their savings were dwindling, and she hadn't found work in nearly a year.

Bruce's daily routine after working 7 hours in an office cubicle, became supper, sofa, TV, beer, mostly watching sports then bed.

Mine was, make meals, laundry, cleaning house, shopping, reading a paperback or social media, searching job market, and bed.

Covid didn't directly kill us, but we were dying a slow unwitting death because of it; we were withdrawn, sad, stuck inside without hope because of the pandemic restrictions. We both lost interest in doing things to keep our relationship important. Bruce gained at least 15 pounds, I didn't get fat, but I let myself become complacent; shuffling around in my sleepwear and slippers all day, not bothering to brush my hair, not really caring about anything, if I'd gone to a doctor, I'd likely be labeled 'depressed.'

We just finished yet another cheap pasta meal, Bruce sighed, pushed his empty plate ahead, and his chair back. "I was thinking maybe we should rent out the basement room, maybe to a student, there's a bathroom down there with a shower."

"There's no kitchen, no fridge or stove down there; you're asking me to cook and clean for a stranger?"

"Well, why not; just treat it as job, you'd be working from home, do you have another solution? We're consistently falling further and further behind in our bills, if something doesn't change we'll lose the house."

I was reluctant, but I had no basis for argument, so I agreed and cleared the table; Bruce got a beer and went to his evening resting place.

Over the next couple days, I prepared the basement for a paying guest. I put up an ad at the university, and the local barista billboard, also posted on social media.

A few days later at supper Bruce excitedly announced.

"I mentioned at work we had a room for rent, Trevor came to me, offered me $1300 cash a month; his wife filed for divorce; he was kicked out of his house and is currently staying in a seedy hotel."

The next night Trevor came home with Bruce.

Trevor was a year older than Bruce, making him 3 years older than me. He was ruggedly handsome, had thick, very dark near black hair with striking blue eyes, he had a bit of a dad bod, but not fat. Tall, broad shoulders, and large hands that made me think he likely could fix anything and a soft and comforting deep voice.

We had a pleasant meal, Trevor was polite, kind.

A few days later I realized I was behaving different, likely because we had a guest; I felt different, more alive, upbeat, no longer lounging around in my favorite old T-shirt and comfortable sweats. I dressed better, even put on a bit of make-up most days; I planned my days activities instead of going through the motions and doing only what was the basic necessities.

Trevor got up early and went for a run every day; I'd hear him leave and I'd get up and start breakfast and plan my day then.

Bruce invited Trevor to remain upstairs whenever he wanted; I was upset at first, a stranger invading our privacy; however, I soon didn't mind as Trevor was very thoughtful, a great conversationalist, smart, humorous, always finding ways to make me laugh.

Trevor changed the barely tolerable atmosphere in our dismal home, to somewhat uplifting.

I quickly grew to enjoy him being around.

Then something else began; it didn't happen quickly, it kind of morphed over several weeks; at first it was simple things like offering to help set the table, cutting veggies or tossing salad as I prepped for supper, drying dishes after.

Even when I brought laundry to the living room, he'd help me fold, often behaving goofy. Once wearing my panties like a balaclava; or pinching his nose and rolling his eyes after sniffing Bruce's boxers.

His being in the house, changed my outlook, I had optimism again, a purpose.

One of the first days helping me make supper; I was at the stove, he was chopping lettuce; he yelped, I turned to see blood on his hand, on the counter and on the lettuce, it appeared like he chopped a finger off.

I rushed to him, grabbed his wrist, and covered his fingers with a dish towel. I looked at him about to speak to comfort him, he was bright eyed, smiling, trying to refrain from giggling. I pulled off the towel, he'd pranked me good; it was ketchup, he'd simply folded his finger.

I punched his chest, but I smiled, it was funny.

Another time he was making a salad, he got my attention, made sure I was watching, he laid a cucumber in front of him, soft of petted it, he took 2 smallish tomatoes, placed them on either side at the end nearest him, with his palms on the tomato, he maintained eye contact with me, and with his forefingers slowly lifted the cuke to an upright position. I was smiling broadly, but then he went down on it, swirled his tongue around the tip and sucked it, gagged when attempting deep throating; I laughed out loud. I understood it was all in good fun.

That was one of his first sexual innuendos; but every few days he found something humorous to make me giggle, blush or laugh.

Trevor's friendly attentiveness to me and his genuine interest in my day made me feel special. Our conversations were easy and lighthearted.

Our dish duty became something I really looked forward to; a calm, pleasant exchange of our daily activities, maybe a joke or two, but it was so nice to just have several minutes to chat with someone; I'd forgotten that Bruce and I used to do that all the time earlier in our marriage.

Trevor's attention made me realize Bruce didn't look at me like he used to or touch me like before; I also became aware Bruce didn't seem to care what we were doing.

I wondered if he even noticed me anymore. I tried to recall when we changed when we became comfortable, predictable, stagnant. I think it possibly started before Covid, but during lock down Bruce had fallen victim to a nightly routine of settling into the couch, watching sports on TV, drinking a couple beer while I read, or I did something on my laptop, until bedtime; that's not a life, that's existing.

Trevor was always present, not just when we in the kitchen, but wherever I was; he saw me, he got me, and did things my husband no longer did. Simple thoughtful things like getting me a drink in the evening, or a coffee made just the way I like it. Commenting "You OK," when I'd put my book on my lap and was in a trance staring off into space. His simplest of comments made me feel noticed, he made me feel wanted in a way my marriage hadn't made me feel in very long time.

Trevor had lost weight, and became more conscious of his health, occasionally went for a run in the evenings now, and he'd return sweaty, with his shirt over his shoulder, or in his hand. I noticed his dad bod had disappeared; his stomach was flat his abs pronounced. I couldn't help but stare a bit too long, and Trevor noticed, and his smile made me think it was ok. I convinced myself there was no harm in looking, because of that, I changed favorite chairs in the living room, so I didn't have to look sideways when he returned hot and sweaty. I could watch him go to the kitchen for water, then gaze at him as he struts through the room smiling, as he went downstairs for a shower.

Trevor started a kind of game during our evening TV time. He'd wait for me to look over my reading glasses at him, he'd try touching his tongue to his nose while going cross-eyed; or screw up his face and stick his tongue out like a 3-year-old; anything to try and make me laugh; making me realize he thought I was more important than TV or reading.

Trevor had become more than our boarder; something had slowly shifted, he became closer to me than my husband and I fantasized my life with Trevor.

There were the subtle glances across the meal table, that nurtured silent thoughts. Accidental light grazes or lingering touches when working together in the kitchen or reaching for something at the meal table.

When I felt those grazes on my bare skin, it seemed to create a slow burn that permeated and deepened, not leaving a scar but leaving an indefinite impression, a memory; I found myself wanting more.

We had developed a strong friend bond, and recently I often imagined us together intimately. I knew Trevor had been pressing in that direction for some time now; his flirting became more sexual, his touches more intentional and lingered longer, his eyes were lust filled.

We were to a point where we could easily cross that invisible line and become amorous.

I struggled, but needed to remain vigilant, to resist, knew once I let my guard down and step across that threshold, there's never really a way back, it's done; and an affair would definitely destroy my marriage, my morals motivated me to enjoy the flirting, but stand firm and not cross than invisible line.

That didn't mean I couldn't fantasize.

One evening we were doing the dishes; I stopped, gazed into Trevor's sensuous blue eyes. "Trevor, you're so attentive, kind, helpful, and humorous; what did you do? Why on earth are you divorced?"

Trevor got a smirk I'd not seen, he stared at me; I thought he might be trying to think up some excuse, some lie, that didn't make him responsible.

His eyes actually twinkled; "I didn't hear Laura until it was too late." He picked up another plate and went about drying it as if he'd answered my question.

I heard his words but, it didn't satisfactorily answer my question, it actually sparked more curiosity. "Please explain Trevor, what were you doing, what was she telling you that you didn't hear?"

He put down the plate, took my hands from the sink, dried them with the dish towel, turned me so we were facing one another. Trevor held both my hands, he became singularly serious, his expression was almost scary as he peered into soul.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow, although not intended to be erotic, his firm grip with warm hands sent shivers up my arms, his touch fanned embers, reignited fire raged feelings I hadn't realized were dormant.

I knew without looking I had goosebumps; the electric sensations went to my nipples, even made my pussy wet.

{No, don't go there Ashley, this is wrong, you must keep it platonic.}

Trevor inhaled deeply, breaking me from my promiscuous thoughts.

"I'm divorced because I was behaving exactly like Bruce; I was a couch potato, complacent, I was taking Laura for granted, not fulfilling her needs."

He grimaced, "I was not even trying."

His voice faltered, "All she wanted was some essential attention, for me to notice her, to be present with her."

Trevor was tearing up. "I finally understood what she was attempting to tell me when she handed me the divorce papers saying... there's no use being married if I'm always alone." His eyes glossy the tears were right there, ready to run down his cheeks.

"I've been practicing being in the moment since then. I'm determined to be a better me for my next relationship; the simple daily distractions like TV, sports, my work that I selfishly gave my time to, those things aren't important." His voice broke. "Friends... relationships are. I now know just simply caring is important. Now that I know, I vowed to change, to make a difference in my life, so I could make a difference in others' lives."

He paused, there were tears flowing now, his breathing ragged, but he maintained eye contact. Damn I wanted to kiss him, hug him, comfort him.

Voice croaking, tears running he went on "Ashley, let me make a difference in your life; you deserve it."

Trevor let go of my hands and went to the basement, I knew he was extremely emotional. His words cut into me deeply. He'd become close to me, and I wanted to follow him, to embrace him, to comfort him; but if I did; would I be able to remain faithful, would I refrain from crossing that threshold?

I recapitulate his profound confession, I understood why she divorced him and saw the correlation between his marriage and mine. Bruce and I had become exactly like he described. I just hadn't gotten to that frustration point with Bruce yet, but now, because of Trevor highlighting it, I recognize our marriage is on that same path.

I made a conscious decision, right there and then to try and make Bruce see that what happened to Laura and Trevor was happening to us. I was unsure how, but I felt there might be a chance, and I wanted to come up with a solution to give our marriage a decent try.

Maybe I needed to be more attentive to him.

I opened a cold beer and took it to Bruce; he nodded as he wrapped his fingers around the cold bottle; I think I detected a bit of a smile, but there was no thank-you, just a nod and he was re-engaged in the game on TV.

I sat close, interlaced my fingers with his, he gave me a 'what's gotten into you look,' and letting go of me, used that hand to retrieve his beer that he'd set on the coffee table after his initial gulp.

Wow, how ungrateful, it stung; is he too distant already? Am I foolish to try and mend our relationship?

I sat there fuming for a minute, considered verbally blasting him and going directly downstairs to Trevor; but no, that would be wrong, totally against my morals, I needed to be more patient and try and find a way to turn our marriage around.

The next day I went shopping and bought some extremely enticing lingerie. I cooked Bruce's favorite meal and met him at the door with a cold brew. He went to the sofa, I went to the kitchen to finish prepping supper, I was in deep thought about my evening plans to seduce Bruce, I hadn't heard Trevor come up behind me.

Trevor gently touched my shoulder, breaking my train of thought.

"Earth to Ashley, come in Ashley," He chuckled.

"Are you trying to decide if tonight's the night you sneak downstairs and molest me." He snickered.

"Oh, I'm sorry Trevor, I was thinking about Bruce." Those words changed his expression and his demeanor. I hesitated to tell him; but decided to say something. "I bought some sexy, skimpy lingerie today and was pondering how to approach Bruce, I have made the decision to try saving our marriage."

Trevor moved behind Ashley; their initial contact was his hands on her waist, his warm breath on her neck sent shivers through her, his lips touched her neck as his hands went around her stomach and his hips pressed her against the counter.

She had to admit she'd been waiting anxiously for him to show intimacy; but now his timing was off.

She didn't deny she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything, deeply, insatiably... she craved him, yearned for his tender touch, it had been so long since she felt desired; and now she needs to be strong.

She knew this encounter was inevitable; she thought she was prepared for it and was confident she could refrain; but damn, she didn't expect it to be so tough; she knew she too wanted what he wanted. His hands roved around her mid-section, holding their bodies tight together, her head fell back on his shoulder, as he kissed the nape of her neck she sighed.

Oh, she was standing on the threshold, her mind swirling, her heart racing, Gawd she wanted to feel his hard body against her naked flesh.

She froze, stiffened upright, "No Trevor, this is wrong." Without turning to look at him for she knew eye contact would seal the deal, she'd melt and submit.

Trevor whispered softly in her ear, "Then why does it feel so right?" Her body desirous of so much more from this handsome hunk that snuck in and became so important in her life. Her mind racing, should she accept; she knew logically she shouldn't, but her body was screaming 'YES.'

"Trevor, it feels so very good, but not now, you've made me realize what I want and need. Trevor, I do desire you, but I must first see if Bruce can hear my plea, to give our marriage a second chance. I vowed for better or worse, I can't give up without giving one last fighting chance."

I braved it, I turned, pressed my lips together, raised my brows, looked into his sexy blue eyes. "Laura didn't cheat, she tried more than once." I tipped my head slightly, forced a smile.

"If Bruce doesn't respond; I will take the same path Laura did, I'll divorce him. So please have patience, maybe a week or two."

His right arm went around the small of my back. "Your marriage is done like burnt toast." He caressed my cheek.

"I don't know how much longer I can go on without lying next to you, cuddling, spooning, after passionately making love together. You're seared into my soul, Ashley, I need you like I need air to breathe; Bruce doesn't deserve you anymore than I deserved Laura."

Trevor kissed my nose, I understand you want to try, but we've both seen Bruce sit there night after night, he doesn't care. I often thought about making love to you on the coffee table to see if he'd even react."

"I know you feel the same about me." He turned his head slightly came close our lips so very close to touching.

"Tell me you don't feel it to, that you don't want this," His hand moved to my bum, his fingers dug in pulling me tight to him.

"Tell me in a way that makes me believe you, slap me, push me away." He pressed his lips to mine, soft and tender.

My conscience was saying no, I wanted to raise my arms and push him away, but they wouldn't; my body arched to him. The air was thick with sexual tension, I accepted the kiss, our tongues danced. I tingled all over.

I put my finger to his chin,

"Trevor," I watched his eyes open; "I have to try with Bruce, just as Laura tried with you." I forced a smile.

I could sense the energy between us change, there was nervousness; my resistance wasn't the answer he wanted, but he heard me. Trevor's mouth pursed; his eyes shifted to the dishes.

Trevor murmured just loud enough for me to hear; "Ashley you're absolutely exquisite, Bruce doesn't deserve you and I want you so badly." His arms still on my hips.

"Trevor, you've made me realize what I want or need; but I must first see if Bruce can hear me; I vowed for better or worse, I can't give up without at least trying." I tenderly brushed across his lips with my thumb.

"If he doesn't hear me; I will divorce him, and I'd be happy to put effort into 'US'... so please... have patience."

I see the lust in his baby blues; he squeezes my hips firmly like he's about to tug me in and kiss me passionately, not accepting my request taking me the way every woman truly wants.

"Ashley, I go to sleep with you on my mind, my fingers around my cock; I wake up the same way, wishing you were beside me. Ashley, I need you, Bruce already gave up, we both can clearly see that, he doesn't deserve you, any more than I deserved Laura." His eyes pleading.

"Trevor, please understand, I need to put on the sexy outfit I bought and maybe with pillow talk he'll hear me. I need to do that; I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."

I give him a simple peck on the lips, "if I succumb to our carnal desires now without trying that would be cheating."

Trevor disheartened, his expression glum.

"Well, if you don't get the response you're seeking from Bruce," he pulled me a little closer, both his hands squeezing my bum cheeks, practically lifting me to tiptoes. "Know you're more than welcome to join me downstairs; I'll be the fellow masturbating with my vision of you, with and without the sexy lingerie."

He kissed me intimately

"I know we'll be together; I just don't want to wait any longer." Releasing me.

I went for a shower, lost track of time; standing under the warm stream somehow seemed to wash away the tension of the entire week. It didn't however wash away my awakened lust for Trevor, in fact, I found myself salaciously caressing more than washing myself.

Trevor's word's 'Bruce already gave up; he doesn't deserve you' resonating as my fingers roved my body.

This was to be a night I seduce Bruce, but as I trimmed my pubes, and donned the sexy lace lingerie, my arousal was with Trevor in mind, not Bruce.

I laid in bed anticipating us sensuously screwing, like our early years when Bruce couldn't get enough of me.

When I heard the TV shut off; I posed seductively, stretched across the bed.

Bruce entered, stood motionless beside the bed, silently staring for several moments, I smiled thinking he was drinking in the alluring offering waiting for him and he was pondering if he was going to ravage me, or make slow, tender love to me.

He unbuttoned his shirt, still staring "What'd that cost?" He tossed his shirt on the floor, turned away, dropped his pants, and sat on his side of the bed, back to me. Then lifting the covers, stretched out facing away; pulled the covers over him, reached up and clicked off his lamp, without another word.

Mood killer, he didn't seem remotely interested in me.

In a snarky, sarcastic way, "Would you notice me if I wore your team's jersey, or maybe their rivals would spark some emotion?"

I turned away, sat on my side of the bed, needless to say furious, oh yes, the invitation from Trevor was blaring in my head.

There were tears forming, how could he be so cold. I have been his devoted wife for 6 years. My hope for rekindling disappeared like a dense fog dissipating and the sun brightens. I could see clearly now; 'done like burnt toast.'

{'he has already given up; doesn't care.'}

I removed the lace Chemise, folded it delicately with a smile, placing it on my nightstand thinking,

{'I know someone who will appreciate it. But I don't want to go to Trevor with anger and spite on my mind.'}

Getting under the covers I spoke, "Bruce can you tell me when you became more interested in unimportant things on TV rather than me?"

"What do you mean?" He sounded annoyed I was talking to him.

"Well, if you wish to stay married to me you should occasionally pretend notice me, maybe thank me when I hand you a cold beer, or hug me, allow me to hold your hand, maybe sometimes even talk to me."

"I see you every day. You're acting foolish Ashley." He sighed in a way to silently request I shut up.

"Do you even remember there was a time you wanted to be with me, to turn off the TV and make love to me."

I'm on my side facing away, I tug the covers, turn out my lamp.

"Now wearing sexy lingerie doesn't even make you notice me."

"Can we talk about this tomorrow, I'm exhausted."

I respond sarcastically "Ya, drinking beer during the playoffs can really be tiring."

I'm sure he heard the words, but I doubt he got the implication. I'm not sensing any incentive to fight this battle.

I'm angry and feel the need to get in the last word.

"Hmm, they lost again huh?"

That night was a struggle for me to fall asleep; my mind was on Trevor wanting me, laying downstairs jerking off.

I thought of joining Trevor, thinking of him I began teasing my labia; I came masturbating, fantasizing it was Trevor, I came... more than once.

I devised a plan for the next few days before falling asleep.