Fake

Fake

A thoughtless act leads to a quick breakup

Just a quick, unrepetitive story about a couple who aren't on the same page. They're young and inexperienced, and behave like many people at that age, at least that I've observed.

Stay tuned for something with my normal complexity soon.

Relax; it's just a story, people.

We had a perfect life. Over the years, I've wondered how many other saps have uttered those exact words. My wife, Darcy, was the most important thing to me, until she wasn't. That was five years in all since we first started going out. Of course, love blinds, and we actually had a decent life, not a perfect one.

I always thought she felt the same way about me. No, that isn't right. I felt that she felt that way. Felt it all the way through my body and my heart. I couldn't imagine that she could fake those feelings. Now I'm less sure about that - or any number of things.

Darcy and I - I'm Jacob, by the way - met in college, not at some frat party, but in a study group. It wasn't love at first sight. We grew to be friends, doing fun things with our mutual friends from the group. A day out on the lake, a night out bowling, and almost always enjoying an abundance of libations. The friendship felt right from the start. I would have been a happy man if our friendship had simply grown stronger, without the romance.

I was studying biology and chemistry, and she was in a psychiatry program. She had her goals all mapped out, and so did I. We discussed those goals in great detail, often under the stars, but other times in more practical settings.

We might have remained just friends if not for one night in our senior year. Kim, Darcy's roommate, was a wild one, and I didn't know until that night, but also a very bad influence on Darcy. I never knew that side of her, since we spent time with our study group friends.

Kimmie, as Darcy called her, took her to a frat party for the first time. A guy Darcy had dated the year before, Darius, was there with other members of the university's basketball team. One thing led to another, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. Darcy's drunken state only made it more difficult for her to resist, while the drink fueled Darius' drive to have sex.

Fortunately, Kimmie went looking for her friend and found her in the nick of time. Kim wanted to go to the campus police, but Darcy talked her out of it. "They'll just band together and make me look like a slut. They've had a lot of practice. Besides, we never did the deed." Darcy warned her, I was later told.

Darcy never did go to the cops, and later admitted she'd dated Darius before we met. She also never went to another college party. Instead, she stayed glued to me for the rest of college until we graduated. We moved in together a few months later and got engaged.

Love is a fickle thing, by my way of thinking, not a splendid one. I suppose if one had measured us, we probably would have scored as average. In how many times we disagreed. How often we fought. How often we made plans, big and small. How regularly we made love. How often we voiced our love for each other.

Our major differences lay in the subtleties of how we lived day to day. The longer we were married, the more I came to understand that Darcy was, or had been, as wild as her friend Kim. No, we didn't discuss those days, and I never asked directly. I couldn't see the need. She was outgoing and spirited, though. Looking back, perhaps I was afraid to dig deeper. Darcy was often restless, and when she started suggesting certain things, or even talked about a friend at the hospital where she interned, I began to understand her underlying personality. Something inside her was banging a heavy beam, trying to get out.

Children were certainly on the table. We'd been kicking it around of late. That pleased me because we'd already waited long enough. Sure, we hadn't met our financial goals yet, but I also felt some of those goals were unrealistic. Darcy had a decent job, so did I.

Me? I was happy with a more serene life. Not boring, just settled. I liked our group of friends, our normal activities. I could tinker in our garage for hours at night, while Darcy was out with girlfriends from work. That's not to say I didn't worry a little, but my wife was always where she said she was and came home when she told me she would, except once.

I always thought we were great together. Her spirited personality led to impulsiveness, though, and could be formidable at times.

Like the night her two single work friends talked her into going dancing with them. They had her convinced that she'd come home all ramped up and our sex that night would be mind-blowing. As it turned out, she either drank too much or someone laced her drink; we never found out for sure. Let's say after picking her up, looking at her state of dress, and the strong smell of men's cologne on her, there was no sex at all. That lasted about a week, until Darcy cried on my knee in our living room when I arrived home from work, begging forgiveness. She confessed to a make-out session, which was obvious, but swore there wasn't anything more than that. Did I believe her? How could I not, without more dire consequences? Did I prefer to let it go, or exercise those consequences?

Another time, a scam caller talked Darcy into an all-inclusive Alaskan cruise. The deal was "Primo," he told her, and he got as far as finding out that Kimmie didn't have a credit card on her and asking if I could call them back when I got home. The guy tried to get our checking account number, but I'd taken the checkbook that day. When she explained over dinner, I was livid, and she finally understood what might have happened. We had to change our account number and get new debit cards.

Many smaller things occurred, but I was madly, or blindly, in love with my Darcy. With occasional memories of that night with Darius, I trusted her because she treated me like someone I could trust. That didn't mean I didn't become more alert.

When Darcy reconnected with Kim, I didn't think a lot about it. They went back and forth on social media. Kim had moved to Los Angeles and married a man named Kyle. We met them once in our hometown and once in LA. Kyle could be described as laid-back, a typical California guy, but under the surface there was an arrogance that was hard to overlook once I got to know him. Still, they seemed like a happy couple.

It was the fall of our fifth year of marriage. Darcy had been quite adventurous in bed those past few months. Little things, starting with different positions, became more than our ordinary intimacies. One Friday night after dinner, she suggested- no, coerced would be a better word-that I go with her to an adult toy store. It wasn't that she purchased a vibrator; rather, she insinuated a butt plug or prostate massager for me. I had to say 'no ' three times, finally ordering her up to the cashier to pay for her item. No toy tryout that night. That she wanted something for my ass, something we had never, ever discussed, set my antenna to the full, upright position. I was pissed, and for days, she couldn't understand why.

Another night we had an entire 'after' conversation about role-playing. Darcy threw some common things couples do - although I didn't know any couples who did those things - and asked what I thought. I felt like a dweeb after that talk. I felt like some kind of puritan loser, in a way that you feel asking everyone at the party if they've seen your sunglasses, only for someone to point out they are resting on your head.

Nothing she carried on about floated my boat. That only made her more antsy. She started asking why I was being so rigid about experimentation, bringing up other things she'd 'heard about'. I made sure she knew I was happy with our lives and what we were already doing.

The next morning, after my shower, I decided to address it. "Darcy," I began, trying to keep my voice lower. "Last night, what the hell was that all about?"

She had an answer prepared. "I was trying to have a conversation about different fantasies, you know, things that will keep our marriage spicy."

Spicy? She'd never used that word as far as I could recall. "No, Darce, I mean, where is all this coming from?"

She shifted slightly in her chair. It was subtle enough that anyone who didn't know her as I did would have missed it. "I don't know, I mean, at work, the girls and I will talk from time to time. I just..."

"I hope you aren't talking about our private lives, our bedroom lives, behind my back and without my knowledge."

"No, of course not." She looked suddenly aghast. Good acting, I thought.

"I better not find out you have," I stated.

"What is that supposed to mean?" That got her dander up. "Are you threatening me now? Telling me what I can and can't talk about?"

"I'm saying, my dear wife, we can discuss sexy things all night long, but to me, it's not appropriate to discuss our private lives with your co-workers. Our life is ours alone, not fodder for giddy, giggly talk over beers between you and them. I certainly have never come close to doing so about you with the guys, and I never will."

She stopped, looked at me as if I had horns or was speaking a foreign tongue... kept looking that way... but said nothing. In all our years together, I had never seen that look before. It was unsettling, perhaps more so than the notion that she was sharing our private moments, and it stuck in my thoughts. Antenna up!

After some hemming and hawing, we headed to work. I had worked my way slowly up the ladder at a pharmaceutical company, and she was about to open her own practice at the end of her residency in a few months.

I knew I'd been hard on her, but it was important to me that she knew, absolutely knew, that what she had done was beyond the bounds of what I would accept. On my first break, I called the florist I normally used on special days and ordered a dozen red roses. My note was simple:

Darcy,

I'm sorry for this morning. I was serious about what I said, but I fear I handled it poorly. Please accept my apology. I'll take you out to dinner tonight, and we can finish our talk in a more loving way.

I didn't get an answer from Darcy for the very first time in our relationship. That rocked me so hard that I didn't make a dinner reservation. When I walked into our home, Darcy was fussing about in the kitchen. I saw Chinese takeout on the table as she turned to face me. Her look was cold and calculated. The little hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"I got the flowers, Jacob." She rarely called me by my full name, electing to call me Jake. "I wasn't in the mood for dinner out, so I thought we could finish our conversation here instead."

My first thought was that there was more going on than I knew or suspected. She wasn't sad or mad, perhaps as neutral and unreadable as she ever had been. I felt as though we were both on the precipice of something bigger than us. I felt like I was about to be blindsided. I didn't even go into our room to change; I just sat down and nodded at her statement.

She came to the table grimly and handed me a plate. That was as far as she got before dumping on me.

"Sweetheart," she began, "I don't want to fight about this. I will if we have to, but I feel like we are coming from two different directions, and we need to resolve things."

I nodded as I filled my plate. It made sense to let her go first and gauge what she said.

"Honey, I think your demand is unreasonable." She stopped, obviously doing the same thing I was. "I know for a fact that guys talk about their wives and girlfriends all the time, and..."

I cut her off. "You know this how?"

"Because," she paused once again. "My friend's husbands - I'm told."

"Told by them specifically, or their wives?"

"Their wives." The look on her face changed. "But I know it's true. Kim told me..."

"Kim?" I looked at her incredulously. "Now you're having these conversations with someone... someone we both know? That I know?"

Clearly the conversation wasn't going her way.

"Baby, it's not like that!" she almost screamed. "We're not comparing you..."

"Bullshit!" I matched her intensity. "If you're not actually doing it - you know, out loud - then it happens organically after you hang up or get off the computer. You're both thinking about what the other said, and of course, you're comparing. I've told you how I feel, and you seem to be bent on ignoring my wishes."

"Alright! Alright, if you're going that far down the hole, then I guess we are. But we don't share it with anyone else. The women at work are probably making up incredible stories over lunch to make their men seem better. There's nothing to it!"

"Okay," I started slowly. "So if I talk to my friends about your oral skills, or things you like or don't let me do, you'd be okay with that? Because I'd bet money you wouldn't."

"It all depends," she shot back, "on what you told them. If it were some kinky thing outside of the mainstream, like bondage or anything that would embarrass me, then you'd be right."

"But that's my point," I rationalized. "I don't know what you're talking about with them."

She still didn't get it. "I can't believe that you, my husband, are this insecure. I only compliment you. You're a fantastic lover. It's not like we're all sitting around trash-talking our spouses. If anything, out of the ordinary comes up, it might be based on technique, like a women's magazine article of tips and tricks. That's all."

I could tell she was exasperated. While still angry at her lack of understanding, it wasn't the hill I wanted to die on.

"Alright, Darcy," I said far more calmly. "I believe you. I'm not insecure, and I don't have that male ego you've probably trashed often. I'm practical, though. I'm a guy, so I know what guys talk about. I'm not saying all guys are pigs, but we don't discuss the things you're alluding to with your girlfriends. We could easily talk about someone's wife or girlfriend's titties and then jump right into talking about the ass on the woman who just walked by. That's it. We never compare our women. It would be awkward."

Darcy sat down, most of her fight gone. "I can see that," she said more to herself. "Honey, I don't bad-mouth you to anyone, okay? I just got heated with you telling me what I could or couldn't do."

I cleared my throat. "And I'll always remind you of things that affect our marriage and our relationship. And I have never told you what you could or could not do. I have only shared what I think is important pertaining to our marriage, and what should be shared. I don't like your friends knowing our intimate details, and I certainly am not comfortable with Kim or Kyle knowing them. Right now, you're not telling me anything about what the two of them do in the sack, but I have no idea what they talk about. Nor do I care."

Darcy calmed down totally after that. We ate and talked about our day, but it struck me that we still hadn't fully resolved the issue. I think my wife felt the same as me. It was worth getting our backs up over, but not serious enough to cause a rift. That night we reignited our lovemaking, and it was some of the best in our married lives.

The following week was Thanksgiving, and we drove up to West Palm Beach to enjoy it with her parents, who'd flown in from California. Betty and Reginald were new money. Reg was inspired by an article several years back that talked about the future of servers and the 'farms' that would house them. He researched towns big enough yet small enough to house these farms. To have plenty of workers, infrastructure, and water. Today's server farms use well over a million gallons of water each day, most of it recycled or reclaimed. He bought land wherever he could, and eventually larger companies like Google paid a premium for it.

Darcy's mother was always genuinely kind to me. Reginald not so much. Sure, he was impressed by what I'd accomplished and my work, but he always gave me the feeling, with some left-handed comments thrown in, that he didn't believe we were compatible.

We drove home the next morning, having a great time and singing along to our playlists. That night, Darcy attacked me again, with as much enthusiasm as the night of our disagreement. I felt like the whole mess was behind us. My wife snuggled up tight to me afterward, and we blissfully slept.

The next morning, Darcy was making us avocado toast for breakfast when she dropped a bomb on me.

"Honey," she said, not turning from the toaster. "Kimmie's husband had a bad accident at work. He's broken both of his legs. Kyle is home but can't do much for himself. Kim has asked if I could fly out to LA and give her some support. She can't get so many consecutive days off."

I looked up at her back. "Are you asking or telling?" She could tell by my tone that there was trouble. Darcy finally turned around with a pleading look.

"I already took the time off." She said it like we were talking about groceries.

"I can't get those days, Darce," I said. "You understand that, right?"

"I didn't expect you to try," she answered in almost a whimsical voice. "Look, I'll only be gone four days, well, and another half day flying home."

"This all feels weird, Darcy," I told her. "Are you staying with them, at their new place?"

"Of course," she brightened slightly. "They have a guest room, and a pool." As soon as she mentioned that last part, she seemed to realize her mistake. "I mean, I can work on my tan while Kimmie is home."

"Alright, Darce," I shook my head, resigned. "If you want to go, I guess I understand, but I don't like the way you dumped it on me. We always discuss things, always talk to each other. This doesn't feel right, like there's more to the story you're not sharing, or why would you wait until the last minute? My gut is barking at me, Babe, and when that happens, it's nothing good."

"I know, baby," she said with compassion, or was it pity? She came and sat on my lap. "It all happened so fast, and she's my friend. I couldn't say no. I knew you wouldn't be able to get away from work, and I feel bad that we can't go together. There are still some things from our last vacation there that we didn't get to do, and it would have been nice."

There seemed to be nothing else to say. She kissed me, and I kissed her back, although with less passion than I had for some time. Sex that night was measured, at least for me. Darcy tried to go all out again, but I wasn't into it. It felt to me that she was using sex as a weapon those first two nights, when I was unaware, and tonight as a means of making things up to me.

The following afternoon, Darcy called once she arrived at the airport. Kyle and Kim had booked an early afternoon flight that landed in LA around 8:00 p. m. their time.

"I love you, Jacob," she assured me. Even the way she said it seemed off. I was about to jump on a Teams meeting and had no time to say much more.

Later in life, I'd wonder about that day. I'd even dreamed about it from time to time. Sometimes the dream put me and my ultimate decisions in a positive light. Other times the dreams were horrific. They would often mesh with other moments of doubt or turmoil.

The things you don't see coming in your life. The way I handled those four days, and the weeks after, I have no regrets about. Saying that, I still wonder why, then, the dreams. Should I have been looking in a different direction?

Darcy called as soon as she landed. She told me how tired she was and talked about the dry heat of Los Angeles compared to our home. I asked if she needed anything done out of the norm while she was there. She then told me she saw Kimmie, ran to greet her, and after our 'love you's,' we said good night.

The next day she texted me in the morning, well, morning for her. She sent me a pic of Kyle's legs in casts. One foot had one of those rubber heels, and the cast went to about mid-foot. On the other leg, the cast started above his ankle but went further up his thigh. The skin was purple and bruised. Later in the day, Darcy must have been bored. She sent a video of their new condo, with the pool right outside the slider that opened off the kitchen.

Darcy knows what time I go to bed every work night. I called her at 10:30 so we'd have time to talk. It was strange that the call went straight to voicemail. I figured Kim and Kyle were probably catching up, since it was only 7:30 there. Right before I went to bed at 11:00, my wife SnapChatted me.

"Hey baby!" she called out excitedly. "Sorry I didn't take your call. We were watching a movie." I took in the scene before me. All three of them were seated on the couch, Kyle's legs up on an ottoman. Kim was cuddled up to him on his left, and my wife sat in a similar position on his right. He had his arms around both women.

Immediately, I didn't like it. "Hey, Darce." I hoped my tone would at least make her sit up straight. It didn't.

"Jake," she began, clueless. She also sounded drunk. "We had a blast today! I've got to get you back here soon."

I didn't reply. She didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care. I wondered how much of a blast they had, considering she was supposed to be there to help Kyle while her friend was at work.

Kyle entered the fray. "Hey buddy, long time. So sorry to steal your wife for a few days. As you can see, I'm in pretty bad shape." Darcy was holding her phone. She panned down again to show Kyle's injuries.

She brought the phone back up so I could see them all smiling. "Don't worry though, we're taking good care of her." Kim snickered, and Darcy, to my surprise, stifled a laugh, putting her hand to her mouth.

That was it for me. "Darce, can you go into your room for a sec? I was just about to go to bed, and I want a few private minutes with you. Kim and Kyle, you two take care, okay?"

That wiped the smile off my wife's face. "Sure," she extracted herself from under the arm draped around her.

The other two said their quick goodbyes, and Darcy walked down the hall and into a room, closing the door.

"Sorry, babe," she said somberly, but not genuinely. "We've had a fair bit to drink. That was probably not a good look, straight off. Really, we were all wanting to get our faces into the shot so you could see everyone."

The shot? What the hell was she talking about? I could have said so many things right then. I went with, "Darce, you're supposed to be there to help your friend with a situation, not partying the night away."

"What?" she asked. The smile was gone. "I am helping. What the hell are you talking about? We had some wine with dinner, for your information, mister. We've been bingeing "Stranger Things". We had some popcorn and more wine. Except Kyle, who's on too much medication to drink with us. Is there some problem? And it's not a 'situation', and they are our friends, not just mine."

"You're drunk, Darce," I stayed the path. "He's got his arm draped all over you, making sure to tell me he's taking 'real' good care of my wife. And..."

She blew up. "He was NOT draped all over me. Jeez, Jake. I told you. I sat close so you could see everyone. Maybe he was playing it up a bit; I don't know why you guys have to do that possessive thing. I didn't take it that way, because I've been sitting in a different chair all night. You sound like you don't trust your own wife?"

"I don't know what to think, Darcy," I replied, frustrated. "It wasn't a good look, and it shocked me, to be honest. Let's not fight about it. I do trust you, but I wonder how you would have reacted if things were reversed."

We quickly changed the subject, and the conversation strained along for another five minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts, I'm sure. "I'm sorry I jumped on you, Darce. I love you."

"I'm sorry too," she said, sounding sincere. "You were right. Being drunk, I wasn't thinking."

She told me she loved me and we said good night. I didn't fall asleep right away. Kyle's comment brought back some of the other smug bullshit he'd spouted when we were all together. The prick was full of himself, for sure.

The following day, I received more loving texts from my wife. She was going to the Santa Monica Pier with Kim later that day. I wondered briefly who was looking after poor Kyle.

She sent me some pics of the Ferris Wheel, and a big teddy bear they'd won. 'It was one of those bottle games', she texted me when I asked. It was another red flag for me, as I doubted Kim or my wife could hit the broad side of a barn throwing baseballs at bottles.

She called me from the car that night, excited, yet unusually subdued. I felt like she wasn't saying everything. The story untold that I feared before she left was now a full-length feature film... and it didn't feel any better! I told her about work for a few minutes, and then we said good night again. I asked if she had any grand plans for tomorrow, and she simply said 'no'.

I lay in bed, troubled. Not in a distrusting way. I love my wife, and I knew for sure she loved me. Besides that, we communicated well. We were educated people, and we always discussed our feelings, our desires, and even our pains. All that said, and while it was comforting to remember it, something was off. You know that gut-rumbling feeling when your eyes and mind sense something beyond what's in front of you? I didn't know what Kim did for a living. Kyle built pay sites for some of the largest gaming companies in the industry. He made over $250,000 a year and made sure we all knew about it. Kim had had odd jobs for as long as I'd known her. Having Darcy there was starting to sound like an excuse to see each other.

I told myself that maybe that was it. Was it so bad if she made a fib? Used Kyle's injury to spend some extra time with her friend?

The next night, all my concerns turned to fears, and then they were put on a stage under the brightest floodlights.

Darcy FaceTimed me again, but earlier. I could tell she'd been drinking again.

"Hey, baby," she slurred gleefully. "How was your day?"

I told her, and there was chatter in the background and Kim giggling. "We've been watching that new 'Game of Thrones', you know which one." Her smile was wicked; her voice sultry. "Did you know?" She dragged the words out. "There's a scene where the queen is getting information from her consort, and as payment, she seductively takes off her shoes and stockings and then lets him smell her feet and lick them."

Right then, she reversed the camera, and Kim was sitting on the ottoman, a small tub of water and a washcloth next to her, along with Kyle's cast legs.

"I've never asked, baby," still in a mock seductress voice. "Do you like my little feet?"

"Darcy, I..."

"You don't have to be embarrassed if you do, sweetheart. I thought the scene was super sexy. I'm kinda turned on by it."

"Darcy, listen to me..." The call disconnected. I called right back. No answer. I tried a regular call. Again nothing.

Five full minutes later, I received a Snapchat from Kyle. In POV, it showed Kim and Darcy washing his feet with the washcloths and warm water. Kim was on his right, attending to the foot that wasn't cast below the ankle. Darcy tended to the other, which had only his toes and half a foot visible below the cast. The caption simply said. "That's why she's here. I can't reach them!!" That was followed by a cry-laughing emoji.

My face was on fire. I called Darcy's phone again to no avail. The short fifteen-second video showed both women sexily worshipping Kyle's feet with their washrags. I kept telling myself nothing bad had happened yet.

Nothing bad.

I sat there for ten agonizing minutes calling and texting my wife, receiving nothing in reply. Then I got pissed. Why was I calling anyway? They were probably sitting there laughing at me. Or fucking. Either way, Darcy was playing a cruel trick, or something far worse.

Then I got a Snapchat alert. I hesitated, fearing the worst. Fearing the end of something I'd put everything I had into. I wrestled with that fear for several more minutes before taking a deep breath and opening the app.

The Snap was from Darcy's phone, and Kyle held it in dual-camera mode. On the right, I could see Kim, lying opposite her husband, her head by his foot. My wife was in a similar position, except on Kyle's left, as they were before. Except they were no longer sitting or kneeling on the floor near the ottoman.

Kim had her bare feet up near Kyle's head, against the back of the sofa. She wore loose-fitting pajama shorts, and I could see up them. With better lighting, I knew what I'd be looking at. She looked to be drying his foot, and then she leaned forward and wrapped her slutty lips around Kyle's big toe, clearly pretending it was something else.

The video disgusted me. Maybe because my wife was there, insulting and humiliating me, not responding. Maybe it was the smug look on Kyle's face as he watched his wife and alternated between looking at her and mine, almost willing her to follow suit.

The caption at the beginning of the video said, "After watching the show, we HADDD to see what all the fuss was about." The video was only about thirty seconds long, and near the end, the caption changed to, "Dude, your wife is getting turned on." Then it ended.

I wasn't going to play their game. It wasn't a game to me. I couldn't figure out what hurt the most: if she was going to cheat on me, why do it so provocatively? Why not just keep it a secret? She had to know I trusted her - until this - so why take the risk? Maybe, probably, she was purposefully trying to blow up our marriage.

Another alert came in. I didn't want to look, but I had to know. I fully expected the three of them to be naked and going at it.

Same dual camera mode. This time, it was held by the person I thought would be my love forever. On the left screen, Kyle was taking turns sucking both women's toes, looking absolutely ridiculous. If it had not been Darcy, I would have laughed and sneered at once. On the split screen, Darcy was mimicking her friend's earlier attempt. The sad truth was, she was better at it, at least on camera. You could say she was a natural, which made my stomach roll. Her cheeks were hollowed out as she sucked it up and down, a dreamy look in her half-open eyes. Gross.

Darcy wore cut-off sweats, which meant what I was looking at up her leg was close-up and personal to Kyle. He ran both girls' soles all over his stupid face as he kissed and licked away. The caption came right as the Snapchat ended.

"We felt bad that you were home all alone. Hope you got off watching".

Less than thirty seconds later, Kyle texted. "That was about as hot as we could make it for you, without doing something we shouldn't be." Something they shouldn't be, indeed.

"Fuck you, asshole," I answered. I'd had enough. I turned off my phone and went to grab a beer.

Remembering I was a thinker, my brain finally engaged. They- all three of them, and especially Darcy - were going to try and make this into something innocent. Maybe, as the text suggested, something special for me. But that was bullshit. They were drunk, and maybe, just maybe, Kim and Kyle had some influence on my wife. In reality, Darcy wouldn't take my calls or answer my texts, so she was complicit in doing something 'to' me, not 'for' me. The fact that she purposefully wouldn't talk to me made it cruel, not sexy.

I had a lot to do. Did I think Darcy and I had a chance after what happened? Yes. Only if that was all that happened. What if the three of them had developed a case of the 'stupids' while drinking all day? Kyle was on meds, probably some hefty painkillers, so I understood that he might be loopy. What if they thought they were being funny or cute? They could have even considered their actions a practical joke. I didn't think so.

Instead, I thought back on my last year with Darcy. The more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Going back to the toys we purchased, there were things I should have seen clearly.

Besides, there was reciprocal hurt now. The text messages I sent were of the 'WTF?' variety, with plenty of unkind names plastered along and threats at the end. She'd made my anger flare in the worst of ways.

When my head started hurting, I tried to stop thinking and go to bed.

Pee, shower, shave, dress. Cereal and coffee, or a granola bar and a fresh-squeezed concoction Darcy had juiced for me before she left. The mundane actions and decisions that drive our daily lives. I went for the coffee.

Before leaving for work, I turned my phone back on. Eighteen missed calls, most of them from Darcy. Eleven voicemails. Umpteen texts.

The first ones, not long after I'd shut my phone down, were angry. I was counting on contrition and apology. How could I call her a slut? Why would I say all those hurtful things? When I didn't respond and she figured out that my phone was either off or I'd blocked her, I started receiving the words she should have led with.

She was sorry if I took things the wrong way. I should call her so she could explain. Nothing happened; there it was again, this time from her own lips.

Nothing happened.

Then the justifications began piling up. They felt bad I couldn't be there. They were drinking. That episode of 'Game of Thrones' got them thinking and planning. Kim did some 'stuff' online. That one was news to me and would have been good to know before Darcy left.

They did the 'least sexy thing they could do' that they thought would still give me a little show and get me wound up.

I don't think they still knew how much they wound me up, or the difference in meanings. They didn't do anything else off camera. Off camera? She actually typed that. Then the begging started. Please call me. Finally, she stated, "I understand if you need some space. I'm sorry if I hurt you, and we'll talk tomorrow when I get home."

Kim's messages backed her play. She asked why I was so upset. She wanted to know how what I'd seen caused such a different reaction than what Darcy thought it would. Her final text told me to man up, talk to my wife, and work things out.

The only message I received from Kyle was a text that read, "Sorry if we crossed a line. I didn't know. Nothing happened beyond what you saw."

At 8:10, I stepped into my boss's office and asked if he had a moment. David Brumhall had been more like a friend than a boss. I told him I had a family emergency and needed a few days off. I then asked if there was a position at the Orlando office, even if it wasn't a lateral move. I told him I had a sick relative there who I needed to care for. I didn't exactly lie; I just didn't tell him the sick relative was me.

By noon, David was in my small office, telling me he'd made a few calls and, as it turned out, they had an opening. It was the job that I'd recently been promoted up from, and David assured me I'd probably be back in my current role in no time. I thanked him sincerely, and he told me to take the next two days and the weekend to get settled with my family member, then report next Monday. No one at my job would ever check my story.

At lunch, I called the realtor who sold us our condo three years earlier. She asked the right questions and advised that even though the condo, mortgage, and insurance were in my name only, it could be considered community property. I asked her to prepare what she needed and be ready to list it.

At 3:15, I received an email from Kim with a link and an ominous message to click it at 6:30, my time, and everything would be explained. I had an idea of what I'd see, and a sad, dark feeling about how things would end. Of things I'd never contemplated a week ago.

I ate takeout and had a few beers, preparing myself for what Kim had awaiting me. With some time to spare, I went from room to room, packing the things I wanted. On the way home, I'd stopped at the bank and split our money, opening a new account in my name.

Darcy was supposed to land in Miami at 6:34 p. m. the next day, Thursday. I'd be almost to my new location, Orlando, by then. A different state would have been preferable if we had offices in any other state. I wasn't looking to hide from Darcy. I just wanted her to experience the utter loneliness I'd felt by her betrayal.

At 6:28, I logged in, and to my surprise, it was a 'private show' window to Kim's webcam. Another thing I never knew, but things were becoming clearer by the minute.

I had no idea how these things worked, but apparently, because she'd privately invited me, I didn't have to pay or buy tokens. I wondered whether I would be the only one watching tonight's performance or some voyeur in the background.

A bed, I suspected Kim and Kyle's, was in view. Blinking Christmas lights dangled from the headboard, and the large puffy comforter was a maze of red-and-white geometric shapes.

Kim appeared on the screen, climbing onto the bed in a bright red bodice, see-through red panties, white stockings, and red high heels. She set her laptop in front of her and ruffled her hair. Kim had the right body for what she was about to do. Watching her get ready to put on her show, I then knew for sure what her real primary job was.

"Hey, guys!" she dragged it out, trying to sound as sexy as possible. "Welcome to our goal show. It's a progressive token night, and wow! Just wait to see the surprises I have in store for you!

"My hubby won't be joining us tonight. Don't be sad, though, guys; it's a very special night."

She glanced at her computer. "Thank you, Big Boy Twelve Twenty-three. Thank you, Jeff, in Omaha. My poor, poor husband broke both his legs on the job this week. Yes, Johnny Saint Claire, it is sad. Come on, guys, tokens and tips. I'm the only one working right now until he's all better."

Kim made a big production of taking off her top. I had to admit those two girls were plump, tanned, and pointing up to the ceiling fan.

I fully expected her to introduce my wife into the scene, but that wasn't what happened.

"My best friend in the whole world came out to California to visit and help me take care of my husband this week, and we've had so much fun. Yes, Georgie Porgey, she's as hot as me, and no, she's not joining me."

At that point she started playing with her tits, squeezing them like melons and pulling the nipples. "Something even better, guys. See, she's married, and we know her man very well. Last night, we made a few Snapchats for him, because he's obviously lonely all by himself back home holding down the fort."

She ran her hands up and down her sides, and then her left hand disappeared between her legs, and she let out a high-pitched squeal.

"He got mad, can you believe it? LOL, Trans Danny. That's what I thought, too. All we did was some light foot worship. Nothing any of you would be interested in. Hehe! We didn't even take our clothes off!" She kicked off her shoes and held her long legs out in front of her, wiggling her toes inside the stockings.

"Soooo, tonight! Tonight, she's out playing nursemaid to my hubby while I'm in here taking care of all of you! But... I've invited my friend's hubby to the show, and, look at that, he's here with us right now. Enjoy the show, friend's hubby."

She reached behind her and grabbed something from under the pillow. "Now, a while back my hubby and I bought one of those kits online. You guys know the ones that make an exact replica of the man's penis. Sorry, I said pee- nuss! I meant 'cock'. See, hubby's a good enough size," she had the silicone phallus by the base and was waving it around back and forth in front of her face.

"So, tonight, you're going to watch me, with his big rubber double, while he's giving the real thing to my friend out there in the living room, AND while her hubby watches with all of you. Isn't that decadently evil? Hehe. You get to watch, he gets to watch, and she, well, she's the lucky one. Now, now, Davey, green eyes, I won't share his real name. That would be downright mean."

Kim kicked her panties off and my stomach wretched. "Thanks, Donkey-donk XL, for that massive tip. We're already halfway to our goal." Kim seductively got on all fours, facing the camera, her elbows on the bed, with the dildo in front of her face, as she slowly leaned forward and took the tip in her mouth. "O meh od izzz so ig," she exclaimed, her mouth full and lips stretched to accommodate the rubber monster.

I left the room and grabbed another beer. But not before hearing her tell another fan that, yes, for sure, she'd describe what her friend must be feeling at exactly the same time.

I'd processed a lot of my grief in a short twenty-four hours. Doing the actionable things to physically separate from Darcy had helped. Drinking my beer in the kitchen, I wondered how it had all gone south so quickly. Were there signs I missed? I know a bunch of guys who asked themselves the same. Did Kim, and likely Kyle, work on my wife behind my back and turn her into this putrid thing? Did they slowly, seamlessly strip her of her morals? Did they somehow trick her into trying to pan-fry mine?

Those were all good questions, but at the end of the day, I was leaving my wife and starting over, so much time wasted. And for what? That idea made me sadder than I'd ever been.

Then I had a bout of reason and thought about it from a distance. What if nothing did happen? What if all this was simply an erotic show to get me going? If so, it did get me going but not in any way they had in mind. More importantly, what was the point of getting me going? And why in hell was my wife front and center in the charade?

I didn't feel like being sad just then, so I walked back into my office. Kim was wailing out in orgasm on the screen, as she thrust the fake dick into herself at speed. I closed out the window and deleted the link from my history, as if a computer could actually erase Darcy.

Much later, I tried to get some sleep. The following day would be another busy day.

I had to pack my truck, get some tie-downs, and double-check things. Darcy would be alright for a while, though I didn't much care. I knew someday I'd have to talk to her, probably in front of a judge at our final divorce decree.

If I could sell the house, the split would be cleaner. I'd be in Orlando, at the other end of the state, so Darcy trying to force counseling was unlikely. My parents lived in Quebec, which was a story unto itself. Darcy's folks lived an hour and a half from where she was right then, in Ventura County. Hopefully, she'd pack up and move to California so I wouldn't have to deal with her.

The next morning started like any normal day, but it was impossible to make it stay that way. After my shower and breakfast, I started moving my belongings to the front door, and it hit me hard. I found myself on the floor, crying harder than I'd ever cried. The pain and anguish were for me, not her. Those emotions would begin for her when she entered the house later that evening. And in my blind rage, I hoped they'd last for her a long time.

I closed the door on my old life at 1:17 p. m. I know because I looked at my phone on purpose. There was no grand gesture. No spray-painted message on the front door. I needed to sell the place. I didn't leave my ring or a note. I'd keep the ring for a bit, as a reminder of how many things I got wrong in this relationship. A reminder to be smart, or prudent, or both, in my future. As for a note, I didn't feel she deserved one.

If she could disrespect me with her BFF and Kyle like that, she didn't deserve any consideration from me. If she wanted that kind of life, with or without them, without discussing it with me, she was welcome to it... without me!

The new job wasn't anything I hadn't already done previously. Just a different location. I wouldn't communicate with Darcy except by email. She tried, much harder than I expected, actually. For every text pertaining to our separation, I replied by email. I didn't bother with every apology, half-assed explanation, or anything else.

I didn't see her again for eleven months...

Darcy

I never expected what happened to me. Not by a long shot, and that's what made things all the harder to deal with. It took me a very long time to admit certain things to myself.

During that length of time, as I began to drown in a deep depression, I knew two things for sure: One, I loved my husband. Second, I was a psychologist; I'd worked hard to become one, and I thought I knew things based on what I'd learned and practiced. The journey to discovery, as I'd come to know it, in the mental group think tank, was long and painful.

Much later, I realized my first clue was the night Kim and Jacob rescued me at the frat party.

Sure, I'd been a bit wild in college before meeting my future husband. Kim, though, wore her 'wild' like a badge of honor. I always admired that, considering she was the real deal; in her mind and heart, she knew exactly who she was, with no regret or remorse.

The night of that frat party, I sat in Jacob's passenger seat and considered what it meant. I wasn't that drunk, just feeling good. In fact, I hadn't felt that good since high school. Those nights had involved drinking too. I'd turned eighteen five months before graduation, and I was oh so tired of being a good girl.

At the party, I just tried to cut loose. Tried to fit in. My old boyfriend, Darius, was there. He wanted me to cut loose too. We kissed and fooled around a bit. I knew I had his motor running, but he wanted a trophy to take in front of the others. I tried to get him upstairs into one of the bedrooms, but he wasn't having it. A few days later, I realized he probably wanted his conquest to even the score with Jacob.

We'd had our hands down each other's pants, and I was on fire. I was about to let him go for it when Kimmie found me. She dragged my drunk ass out of the party and gave me the third degree, even suggesting I go to the campus police, if for no other reason than to save my virtue.

I knew I had nothing to accuse Darius of. His friends were standing right there. Only a few watched. It seemed like the others were so used to it; it was a common occurrence.

Jake was very upset, angry even, that I didn't report the incident. That surprised me, honestly. No matter how far things had gone, I should have been the victim in Jake's eyes. It took us several weeks to return to where we'd been.

In the end, though, he loved me and I loved him. During our engagement and first three, maybe four, years of marriage, things were great. We were exceedingly busy building our careers, and because we were still new to each other, we made time for each other, even when we didn't exactly have it. It was the happiest time of my young life.

Kim and I remained friends throughout my marriage. Sure, there were times when we drifted, especially when she and Kyle moved to Southern California. Still, we communicated on Facebook, so she never seemed far out of reach.

Sometimes I saw a post, and a tinge of jealousy passed through me. She may have slowed down a bit, but she was mostly as wild as she'd been in college. She also had a husband who seemed to understand and let Kimmie be herself.

That's not to say she was some sort of tramp. She'd post pics of some party they went to with lots of gorgeous people, and even with Kyle right there, some cute guy had an arm around her possessively.

We'd visited them on a trip to California. Kyle was the epitome of the SoCal laid-back sort of guy. He was fun, outgoing, and very easy on the eyes. A few times, when he was close or laid a hand on my shoulder or arm, I'd get a little tingle down below.

But I was a married woman, and Jake was the love of my life. I never let it go beyond a momentary fantasy. My Jake was a Boy Scout compared to Kimmie and her man, but he was MY Boy Scout! Other than hoping he'd eventually loosen up, I didn't think much of it.

When Kim started reaching out to me by email, we grew closer again. She was considering a little home enterprise on OnlyFans. I'd heard of the site, of course. She had a friend at work who was making over a thousand dollars a week, showing off only her feet. Curious, I asked lots of questions. It seemed her friend never showed anything above the ankle. She'd paint her nails or point the bottoms of her feet towards the camera and wiggle her toes.

Kimmie was thinking about doing more - much more. I asked how Kyle would feel about that. She said he probably wouldn't like it at first, but he'd come around.

The sexy talk and illicit nature spurred something in me. One day I summoned the courage to talk to Kim about it. She suggested I first gauge how jealous Jake could get. That I needed to learn that before coming up with a plan to loosen him up a bit.

So I went out with friends, danced with a guy several times, acted a lot drunker than I actually was, and had one of my friends phone hubby for a ride. I felt horrible about it afterward, guilty for several days, for causing all the grief I had. I almost decided to just forget the whole thing. I apologized over and over again until we got back on track.

Kimmie helped me fix that too. Our normal was more like a 'new' normal, and it felt like Jake was pulling away from me. Kim told me that Jacob was one of those men who grew up thinking he should shelter his wife and take responsibility for her behavior. She considered it a very conservative viewpoint and warned that I should start nipping that thinking in the bud now, or we would have big future problems.

I tried to get our sex lives beyond the ordinary. Positions, more noise, more 'after-talk'. Then one night I talked him into taking me to a sex shop. We bought a few toys for me, but he drew the line at any man toys, especially for his bum.

We had our fun, for sure, but it always felt that Jake was just pacifying me. Placating my extra needs. I didn't want that. He had to gladly participate, or what was the point?

By the time Kim called me about Kyle's injury, she and I were already thick as thieves in our planning to make a new man out of Jake. Don't misunderstand, I didn't want a completely new man - Jake was more than enough, and I both loved and admired his protective nature. I couldn't see a day, though, when I somehow became a barefoot Stepford wife.

Kim picked me up at LAX, and we discussed my latest attempts with Jake.

"I can't wait for you to see what I've been up to," she told me excitedly. "I'm not only making a shit ton of money, but I get such a huge rush teasing all those guys. I'm an exhibitionist and never knew it. I love that my hubby likes to watch me put on my shows."

It surprised me that my friend was getting naked online, and that her husband was allowing it. That seemed a bridge too far, even for me.

She caught my cautionary look. "No, no," she quickly added. "Kyle loves it, really. We've had some of the best sex of our lives later, off camera."

Silence filled the car, then Kim perked up. "Hey, we should think about putting on a show for Jacob."

"Are you out of your mind?" I admonished. "Are you trying to get me divorced? Jacob would lose his fucking shit."

"Aw, come on," she responded. "I'm not talking about what I do. Maybe a little private show. I can invite him, and him only. It would just be you and him, in my private room."

"In your bedroom?" I asked, not quite understanding.

She laughed heartily. "Well, getting sexy and naughty in my and Kyle's bed would be kinky, but I was talking about my virtual private room, silly."

Kim went on, explaining her shows, her fans, and how she made money. Then she crossed into a familiar conversation we'd already had a few times, as we sat in the dreadful California traffic.

"I can help you loosen him up, girlfriend," she began. "But I'm no miracle worker. Have you considered whether or not you two are truly compatible? Is he a controlling sort? Does he expect things from you that are hard or impossible to provide?"

"No, nothing like that." I found my mood changing. I'd already explained this to her multiple times.

"Okay," she said defensively. "I just want you to consider all the angles. And I'm not saying what's good for me is good for you, too. I can't even imagine you doing what I do on my channel. You were a wild one, sister, but you're not me."

That sounded more like a challenge than a statement. I decided to change the subject.

At the house, Kyle sat on their sofa, acting sad and busted up. Kimmie thought him a comedian, I observed. Still, Kyle was the kind, funny guy I'd remembered. He flirted with me openly, but nothing creepy, and always right in front of Kimmie. He grew on me quickly, especially after a few cocktails.

After a nice takeout dinner, Kim was excited to show me what she was doing online. I was awestruck, watching my friend get naked, touching herself, playing it up for the camera, and talking to these 'fans'. Kyle watched me with great interest. After watching parts of her many recorded shows, she showed one where she used a toy on herself.

"See that counter in the upper left corner?" she asked, almost giddy. "Watch that thing ring it up. Cha-ching!" she exclaimed.

"That's the true nature of us guys," Kyle interjected. "Bunch of horn dogs."

"Okay, hold on a minute," I challenged. "Why would a guy, good-looking or not, keep dropping all that cash, or tokens, whatever, to watch on a computer, and knowing the outcome, when he could be getting the real thing somewhere else?"

"All kinds of reasons," Kyle quickly replied. I looked at Kim, who seemed perfectly willing to have her hubby explain, deferring to his masculine mind. "Some guy who's impossibly shy. Maybe a guy with a genital deformity, or maybe he's socially inept. Could be a guy who isn't comfortable with sex or comes too fast. Maybe none of those things. Could just be a regular everyday dude who got into looking at women online and it's become habitual."

I could see his point from a psychological perspective. Later, I called Jake, and we talked for quite a while before signing off to get some sleep.

In the morning, Kim gave me a few instructions before heading off to work. "Now behave yourselves," she teased. I found it an odd comment on its face. At some point, TV became boring, and Kyle and I got into a deep conversation about the differences between California and where Kim and I grew up.

Eventually, the lifestyle convo turned to sex. I was curious and had to ask how he could stand Kimmie 'performing' for all those men.

"She's making good money," he shrugged. "She enjoys it, and with the anonymity, no one will ever know who she is, so there's no harm to me or to her."

That night found us all drinking and having lively conversation again. The TV was on, but none of us were watching. I was tipsy and lost track of time.

"Shit," I declared. "I forgot to call Jake. I'm gonna step into my room."

"Don't be silly," Kim replied. "Call him right here, so he knows you're behaving yourself."

That seemed weird, but I called him on FaceTime anyway. Kimmie was tucked up to Kyle on his right. She whispered, "Scoot in close to Kyle so he can see all of us."

The call did not go well. Jacob was fuming mad, which triggered my own anger. I told him he was being ridiculous and paranoid. That we were only sitting close for convenience.

After my call ended, we spent another hour talking about Jacob, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I was being grilled about our lives together, his personality, and once again, Kim brought up our compatibility, or lack thereof.

For the next two days, Kim worked half days. When she came home and announced we were going to the Santa Monica pier, she must have seen the surprised look on my face. I thought I was there to help her look after Kyle, who couldn't move around much even with his crutches.

"He's injured, not dead," Kim said, anticipating my thoughts. We'd known each other for so long. "We're only going for a little while. You're here for us, for me, so at least I can show you some appreciation."

While on the pier, Kimmie ran into a couple of their friends: Trevor and Brennen. We wandered around with them a while. They thought it would be fun to try and win us one of those giant Teddy bears at a carnival game. Trevor knocked down the bottles, but Brennen didn't. Later, on the way back to Kim's place, I called Jake. I could tell he was still having issues with my being there and what he saw on FaceTime the night before. It was also getting on my last nerve.

The next day, I tended to poor Kyle, while Kimmie was at work. Eventually, the conversation came back around to what we had been doing the night before.

"I have some ideas, being a man, on how to get your hubby to loosen up a bit. I know what men do and don't like. Did Kimmie tell you about her friend from work?"

"Yeah," I said, already getting worried about the conversation.

Kyle went on to explain how we could queue things up for Jake. His plan sounded idiotic to me at the time, but I listened anyway.

"Kyle," I said slowly. "Jake isn't like that. He doesn't even like to give me a foot rub. That's not going to do anything except make him more pissed off."

"That's just it," he implored. "Don't you see? We're not doing anything wrong. We'll all be dressed, and I have a cast on both legs. It's in the imaging. He'll be insanely jealous at first. Not because he owns you or your toes, either. After you assure him nothing nefarious is going on, he'll calm down a bit. By the time he goes to bed, he won't be able to stop thinking about what he saw. The images in his head will drive him crazy with lust, and he won't know why exactly."

"I don't get it," I told him. "How can he be angry and horny at the same time?"

"It's a guy thing. He'll be lying there. His mind will take him on a wild journey, because you're here with us, and he's not. He'll be thinking, 'If she can put his toe in her mouth, what else would she put there?' If some guy who's not me is sucking her toes, what else will she let him suck on? Soon after that, he'll be hard. Maybe even embarrassed that he is. He'll touch himself, out of a primal urge, and soon, he'll be beating off at the thought."

Later, when Kim arrived home, she agreed with her husband's plan.

"I don't see how that would work," I stated. "I mean, I can understand you getting off doing your show, but this is far different. And I know my Jake. His mind will run away with all the possibilities... all bad or worse... and nothing good will come of it. It is dangerous!"

Kim laughed at me. "I don't get off on camera. Only afterward, when Kyle gets into me."

"Come on," I challenged. "I just watched your archived videos."

"That's all acting, Darce," she said triumphantly. "I close my eyes when I see the timer running out, and I think about Kyle giving it to me. I concentrate on how we have sex. Then I just make the noises. I've only had one orgasm on camera, and that was when Kyle was standing behind my computer with a raging hard-on."

We stopped, and Kimmie fixed us another round of drinks. Then she suggested we script what we wanted to do. I was skeptical but went along with my friends. We tried a bunch of positions, and Kyle took pics with his phone and mine. We looked at the pictures together and talked about different angles. At one point, Kimmie turned off the lamp and then turned on the overhead light.

The more I got into it with them, the sexier the whole idea became. I was more than warming up to it. We really weren't doing anything wrong, at least not in my mind. Hell, it was even more tame than 'pantsing' someone at the beach in college.

We tried a few more positions when Kyle said lying opposite each other would work best so he could put the app in dual camera mode. I had to admit he was right, and in that view, it would give my Jake some really naughty visualizations in his head later that night. But the fear I had expressed was lurking in the background... I knew my husband. Would he, could he enjoy it for what it was?

Kimmie egged me on to do a few practice runs, so I could put on my 'sexy face', as she put it. Kim went to the bathroom, grabbed a warm washcloth and another with soap on it, and washed Kyle's foot.

When we started, my apprehension did too. This wouldn't even be close to cheating, yet I was about to suck on a male body part that didn't belong to my husband. Those thoughts went out the window when Kyle slowly licked my foot from heel to the ball. Then, he mimicked my actions by taking my big toe in his mouth. Kimmie quickly stopped us, though.

"Alright, you two," she snickered. "Before anyone gets too wound up!"

I was literally dripping with excitement as we set up later on for the real call. Kyle opted for Snapchat so the video would auto-erase.

Almost immediately, after we started the toe-worshipping scene, my phone started pinging.

I can remember that half hour vividly. I was far more turned on than I knew at the time. I didn't see what we were doing as wrong. I knew something was wrong, or I wouldn't have felt that angst. I realized much later that the apprehension centered on whether I could actually do it. I wasn't really thinking about doing something "to" Jake.

"Ready?" Kyle asked. I nodded, took a deep breath, and he Snapchatted Jake. My heart raced with excitement and anticipation. Would he really masturbate to this little show later? Would that be the carrot I could use to push him into being more adventurous? Or the stick?

I gave it my all, which wasn't that hard. Kyle typed something; I knew it was a caption, and I hoped he wasn't being rude or macho.

Then we went for it. Kyle used my phone that time and captured me going to town on his big toe like it was a cock. Meanwhile, he went to town on both our feet, taking turns.

When we stopped, I should have known something was terribly wrong. Jake hadn't called after that first chat. I tried to call him, and it went straight to voicemail. Kim tried to hide a smug look. Kyle said he'd text Jake and get him talking. When he showed us the message and Jake's reply, I knew we were in trouble. I was in trouble.

"Geez," Kyle exclaimed. "Is this guy a fucking monk or something? There's nothing to be upset about."

I glanced at Kim and got a sick feeling in my stomach. I'd seen that look many times in college, as she raised one eyebrow, like she knew she'd been right about something. I knew what the 'something' was.

All of my calls that night and the next morning went straight to voicemail. His phone was off, or I was blocked, simple as that. Both Kim and Kyle tried to send conciliatory messages, but Jake ignored them. Finally, I decided their attempts would probably only make things worse, so I asked them to stop.

Kim was off that day too, and I started wondering why I'd even come, or why she wanted me there, other than to party. When Kim suggested she could fix things, I became skeptical again.

Her grand idea was to send him a private link to her webcam show that night. At some point, near the end, she would explain what had happened, that nothing had gone further, and that the private link was a peace offering to even things out. She would plead her case to Jake, saying it was all harmless fun and that he should give me a chance to explain.

"I didn't hear a 'sorry' in there anywhere," I challenged my friend.

"No, you didn't," she answered indignantly. "Because you have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong. We did nothing wrong. We were trying to put on a little show for him. In my mind it was considerate, not hurtful. Pushing the envelope, perhaps, but gimme a break! I'm telling you again, even though you don't want to hear it. If he's that jealous, conservative, whatever term you want to use, then your marriage was in trouble long before last night. It means you have fundamental differences in your overall worldviews."

"Just stop, Kimmie, okay?" I was getting frustrated with her constant badgering. "He's so damned mad, he's not going to accept your private invite anyway. I'll just have to go home and take my licks until he lets it go."

"And if he doesn't let it go?" she challenged. "I'm trying to help you here, before he has too long to stew about it."

That night, as Kim went into her bedroom and closed the door, I was wound tighter than a drum. Kim told me Jake had accepted her invitation, that same smug look on her face. She went on to say that no man could resist what she was offering. That pissed me off.

Kim was making me mad, as was Jake, honestly. I sat in a chair opposite Kyle, wondering and hoping Kim didn't do more damage to my marriage. Kyle sat there staring at me.

"What?" I said in a nasty tone.

"Come over here," he responded. I just sat there looking at him.

"Darcy, come and sit here." He smiled. "Talk to me, and things will be okay."

When I did, he put a hand on my shoulder. "Damn, you're so tense," he remarked. "Relax, everything is going to be alright." Then his left hand massaged my right shoulder. After a few moments, I closed my eyes. I quickly opened them when I felt his lips touch mine.

"What are you..."

"Relax," he said softly. I started to pull away, but as he held me tightly, I didn't put up much of a fight. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't had sex in four days. Probably that, combined with the illicit things we'd gotten into with the sexy games and innuendo. Perhaps it was a combination alongside my anxiety. I let him kiss me again, and I kissed back.

We made out for a minute or two, my body writhing, Kyle's unable to with his injuries. He kissed my neck and behind my ear, which took me to another level. Then he stopped.

"Darcy," he said seriously, looking into my eyes. "We're not doing anything you don't want to, and we have Kim's permission."

I wanted to ask if they had talked about this without me, conspired against me, but I didn't care in that moment. His hands searched my body, which was hard to do since he couldn't fully face me. I made it easier for him, snuggling up, almost lying across his body.

His hand soon slipped into my shorts. I reached down and undid the snap and zip, giving him better access, as we went back to tongue kissing. My hand subconsciously found his crotch. His fingers strumming my button caused me to build to a quick, strong orgasm. In the meantime, Kyle had released his cock from his shorts.

As I was coming down from my thrill, he asked, "Wanna take a ride?" motioning to his erection. It was then that I noticed the beast between his legs. Beauty would be a better term. It was no monster in size, but the damned thing looked sculpted or fake. It didn't just stand straight up; it pulsed and bounced off his stomach, seemingly hard as steel.

As he pulled his shorts down as far as he could, I marveled at the fact that his entire genital area was free of hair. It made the gorgeous cock seem all the larger, not to mention the balls. I grabbed it and squeezed without a thought. There was barely any give to it at all, which made me gasp and then moan.

Fascinated, I massaged his hairless balls and wondered if he'd been waxed. Then I wondered if it went further than those balls and reached under them to check. Kyle moaned and thrust his groin upward. "Right there," he cried out. He had me rub his perineum, or as he called it, the 'male G-spot', while stroking him with the other hand.

Kyle's hand soon slipped back into my shorts, and we played with each other slowly, methodically. I knew he wanted to feel my mouth or pussy, but I was alert enough to know I'd already crossed a line. I came again before he exploded all over his T-shirt.

We'd just gotten ourselves together when Kim came out with a very worried look on her face. That ended when she noticed our dreamy post-sex expressions.

"Crap," she said, admonishing us. "I'm doing all the work here."

Then her face hardened again. "There's a problem."

I looked at her expectantly. "How big a problem?"

"He logged off of my private invite before the end of the show. I was about to explain what we did and why, after closing my public screen, but I saw he was no longer there."

"What are you not telling me?" I could tell by her face. "What exactly DID he see?"

She didn't answer, and the shocked look on her face told me it was bad. "Show me," I demanded.

"No, Darcy, NO!" she screamed. "I... I let my feelings for him overtake me. I... I went too far."

I knew what she meant by 'feelings,' and they weren't loving. "Damn you, show me right now."

My shoulders slumped as I watched her opening monologue. Then anger filled my entire being. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "You said you were going to help. What the fuck was that? You made everything ten times worse."

Kim tried to explain, but I'd already shut her out. I grabbed my phone and went to my room, slamming the door. I texted Jake, helplessly, hopelessly, that I had nothing to do with Kim's stupid show. I reiterated that I'd done nothing wrong. There was no sex, which, by then, I knew was a lie, but I was desperate. At least I could say nothing like Kim suggested had happened. I told him I loved him, and how stupid we'd all been. I begged for the chance to explain the next day when I arrived home.

The next morning, I was pissed beyond belief and running on about two hours' sleep. Kim was up and had breakfast ready. Kyle was in his bed and didn't come out. After a long silence, Kim tried to explain and apologize. I told her I was taking a shower and packing. She quickly offered to drive me, but I told her I'd call an Uber.

I sat at my gate for nearly seven hours, unconsciously watching the comings and goings of happy and hurried people. People whose lives hadn't turned to shit in spectacular fashion. People who were going home to someone they were looking forward to seeing.

Jake hadn't returned my calls or texts. I didn't know what to expect. I waited outside my airline's hub for twenty minutes, hoping against all hope that Jake would pull up. When he didn't, I sighed and called another ride.

The house was empty. Not as in missing a husband; a mate. It was missing most things associated with my husband. He'd taken quite a few things, and it didn't look like he was coming back anytime soon.

I wouldn't take calls or texts from Kim or Kyle, and I spent nearly a week in my own personal hell. Despite her constant apologies, I had no idea what to say. She'd purposefully sabotaged my relationship with Jake, the way I saw it.

I called Jake's workplace on Monday morning only to be told he'd transferred out of the area. They wouldn't tell me where.

I returned to my job on Monday and worked mostly in a daze, which is never a good thing in my line of work. When I came home from work on Friday, a courier delivered a letter from an attorney.

Fearing the worst, I opened it. Jacob had hired someone to see to our affairs. He wanted to put the condo up for sale, and once he was settled in his new office, he would move forward with a divorce.

I surprised myself. Yes, I broke down and cried, but not nearly as long as I expected or with the vehemence I thought.

I spent the loneliest weekend of my life sitting in our once-happy home. It didn't even feel like a home then. Another six days passed before I worked up the nerve to call Kim, because I had no idea what to say.

After a frosty greeting, I broke down and told her what had happened. To her credit, she was patient and careful with me. There was no 'I told you so,' and I appreciated that. Kim asked if I wanted her to come stay with me for a while. I reminded her, with a certain amount of bitterness, that her husband needed her more right then.

Another week later, and still no communication from Jake, Kim showed up at my door unannounced.

"I'm so sorry, Darcy, for my part in this," she told me over pasta. "You should put some feelers out in LA. Of the three hospitals in the Santa Monica area, one would probably hire you. It would be a start until you can set up your own practice."

"I can't do that," I countered. "What if he has a change of heart and wants to talk?"

"He's not going to do that, sweetie," she consoled. "You know that as well as I do. If this is his reaction to what we did, what happens next? Are you forced to sleep on an air mattress in the garage when you mistakenly put too much bleach in a load of laundry?"

"That's not funny," I said all too defensively.

"I'm not being funny at all, Darce." She reached out and held my hand. "All those things I've warned you about in the past? They're here, at your doorstep. Can't you see that he'll never be completely happy with you, or vice versa? I'm not trying to knock the guy. He has a certain appeal, but that doesn't make him "Mr. Right" for you."

We finished the meal in silence, but once the after-dinner drinks came out, Kim began her assault to get me to move to California, and even to stay with her and Kyle until I got settled. That was a recurring theme for the three days she stayed with me.

I still had to think about it. It took another week for me to realize I was hanging on only because I didn't want to lose. I'd have to start over, tell my parents what happened, or some sanitized version. Tuck tail and flee to another state. At least my parents would be closer.

But as I considered my next move, I felt more drawn to a free, loose lifestyle. Kim had me pegged there.

I emailed Jake, telling him I was moving on and to take possession of the condo and sell it. I told him I was taking the rest of the money he left in the account to help with moving expenses. It belonged to me anyway. I assured him I'd sign off on a divorce, no contest. If there was a profit on the condo, I expected half; if he didn't disclose it or send me a check, I would fight him.

I talked to people at work and had a few leads in SoCal to follow up on. My life with Jacob was over before it really even got started.

>>>>

A mere eleven months after leaving Miami, I was doing better than expected. I had a good-paying job, and I made more because of the higher wages in Cali. Living with Kim and Kyle was a boon. I felt comfortable and at home there, and I stayed for five months. Of course, in the first few months, Kim loaned me her hubby to take my mind off my troubles. Kyle never complained, and he took REALLY good care of me! Our first threesomes were epic!

Sex with him was mind-blowing, and the fulfillment gave me the courage to put myself out there again. Additionally, I started doing guest appearances on Kim's channel. Nothing super-kinky, just two hot chicks making out and getting naked. Once I got my own place, I decided to supplement my income by starting my own 'OnlyFans' channel.

One night in that eleventh month, the past came back to haunt me. I'd received a request for a private show a few days earlier. I already had one scheduled for Thursday night, and I often bundled two or three fans into the same show, though they couldn't see each other's comments. That gave them the exclusivity they surely desired.

I had just removed the last of my clothing- my sheer, tiny panties- when one of the guests sent a message.

Same as it's always been - Darce the farce.

It took me back so hard that for a moment I forgot I was actually performing. My handle on the site was psychedup96.

I typed back even though I knew. "Who are you?"

Someone you used to know.

He wanted to play a game. Okay, I could play along. "I used to know a lot of pervs, still do, apparently."

Ever know any non-pervs?

Another message arrived from my other fan, who was asking why I'd stopped. I typed back to him, assuming it was a 'him,' that something happened and I would reschedule his private room at no additional cost.

I sat up, Indian style, and faced the camera; faced him.

Put your shirt back on, sweetheart.

So, he wanted to play, did he? I'd show him.

"Why are you here, Jake?"

A friend of a friend said they'd seen someone who looked a lot like you. I had to see for myself. Still breaking hearts, I see.

"I never broke your heart, you straight-laced moron. I was trying to tease you, just like I don't do anything wrong here - just tease people. The difference between them and you is that they pay me well."

Is that what you're calling it?

"I never did anything! It was a game, a joke, harmless. That's all. Yes, Kim went overboard, but if you had just talked to me that day or the night before, the thing with Kim would never have happened. You ran off like a baby; you ghosted me."

Okay, Darcy, let's say I believe you. Let me ask you this. Do you remember when we went to the adult store and bought those toys? Did you ever use them when I was away on business?

"Of course I remember! I was there."

Did you ever use them when I was out of town on business?

He was starting to piss me off. "Yes, Jake. I used them. The whole point of buying them is to use them"

Did you ever think of - fantasize about someone else - when you used them alone?

I knew where he was going, but I still couldn't believe it.

"Don't you dare tell me you've never beat off thinking about some other woman."

Never. I loved you with my whole being, my whole soul. There was no reason.

"There's no such thing as a soul, and don't you try to tell me thinking about someone or something else is cheating."

I won't. You just admitted it.

"Fuck you, Jake."

Fake you, Darcy. What a damned fraud you are. Don't ever get remarried, Dear.

"Don't you ever get remarried, unless you start trolling for women at some church."

He laughed at me. That's exactly where I've been looking.

I couldn't take any more. Who was he to lecture me?

"Don't ever contact me again, you sanctimonious prick."

I disconnected the link and shut my computer. How could I have been so wrong about Jake? How could Kim have been so right? I'd been so damned blind. He was the 'good guy' Kim had pegged him for. What did that make me? Fuck him, I was having the time of my life.

I met Kim for coffee the next day and admitted she'd been right all along.

"It doesn't make him the bad guy, Darcy," she said, comforting me. "It just makes him different. He's certainly no Kyle. Let's call him 'traditional' and leave it at that. You were and always have been an adventurous spirit, looking for something new. It didn't mean you weren't into him because, as I recall, you were from the start. You simply want other things that he doesn't. It doesn't make you bad or cheap... just like it doesn't make him a saint."

Kimmie sipped her coffee, and a devious smile spread across her mug.

"You want to come over for dinner later, some drinks, and then attack Kyle, the two of us?"

I thought about it for a second. A short second. "Sure."