Attack of the Heart and Conscience

I have a number of married friends who essentially have lived their own, real life versions of this quick fire story. I asked them if I could use it as a base framework, fleshing out the tale slightly. They were only too pleased to share their experiences with me... and now the fine readers of Literotica.

While this particular tale is a work of fiction, it has many elements of realistic truth that I believe many people can relate to.

I had to promise Peter I wouldn't use his name, so I didn't. LOL. (Sorry, inside joke)

Yes, there is cheating by both parties but described in a different way. You will see and understand, if you read to the end.

No, there are no explicit sex scenes so you may avoid this if that's what you are after.

Please feel free to vote and leave comments.

LS

...

The German language has a word for it: Doppelgänger. Approximately meaning someone who looks just like someone else. Practically a twin, even though they are not, to the best of your knowledge, related in any way.

Over the years I have had a number of instances where I thought I'd seen an old friend and/or relative, in places where they couldn't possibly have been. Unless by Powerball-like odds.

For instance, I thought I saw one of my Uncles standing not 6 feet (2 meters) from me while I was playing tourist in Hawaii. My real Uncle James had vowed never to leave California, was not exactly flush with money, had a fear of flying in planes and wouldn't be caught dead wearing a Magnum type Hawaiian shirt.

I had to actually ask the man a question before I could disbelieve my own eyes. The man wasn't even an American, didn't speak very good English and was, most definitely, NOT my Uncle.

Another time I was at a conference in Vegas when I swore I saw my best friend who I had grown up with and who had been best man at my wedding, sitting ring side in a strip club. Knowing that he and his family were staunchly religious I was wary of approaching him at first. I kept thinking of that "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" type excuse.

Why was I in a strip club? Errr... umm... I was lost... and had stumbled into it by mistake. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. LOL.

Weirdly, I was at the urinal in the Men's bathroom when he stepped alongside and, in a broad Texas drawl, said "Howdy". No, it again was most definitely not my friend.

Therefore it was almost pure happenchance... I like that word, happenchance. It clearly describes a logical event that was totally illogical in appearance. So, it was mere happenchance that I was in the town of El Monte, on the outskirts of Los Angles, southern California, late one Wednesday evening, when I saw my wife, Vanessa.

I had just finished my latest draft of a new book I was writing... the subject doesn't matter to this story line. I wanted to print it out but discovered that my printer cartridge was failing. I had meant to replace it days earlier but, you know how it is. I knew the printer would not be able to print off the 500 A4 pages, so elected to drive the 10 miles (16 km) over to El Monte to a Computer supplies store that also specialised in refilled Cartridge supplies. Even though it was nine o'clock at night I knew they would still be open. An owner operated business.

The store was in a seedier part of the town with, obviously, cheaper property rental charges. Discount stores of clothing and cut price grocery lines abounded.

I had satisfactorily completed my purchase and was returning to my car in the attached parking lot when I saw her. She was getting out of the passenger side of a Mercedes sedan, not her little Honda I noted, that was parked in the adjoining parking lot of "El Cheapo Motel".

Naturally my first thought was "Damn. I must remember to tell Vanessa I saw her doppelgänger tonight. She will be highly amused."

The shopping centres' carpark was quite dark but the Motel's was quite brightly lit with lights along the fence line facing towards the Motel. Meaning I could see her clearly but she would have difficulty seeing or, at least, recognising me.

I stood next to my car and examined what she was wearing so that we could laugh about it together later. She was wearing an attractive LBD that showed off her slim figure to perfection. It was quite a bit shorter than what my conservative Vanessa would wear.

The woman opposite seemed about the same height 5" 7" but it was difficult to tell for certain because the lady wore black CFM pumps that made her bare legs seem very, very long. Coltish almost, if you get that mental picture. I didn't think Vanessa even owned anything remotely like them. I doubt she could even walk in them without falling, I chuckled to myself.

She reached back into the car and extracted an overnight bag. Bags look all the same to me, unless they are of outlandish colours to differentiate them. This just looked like a generic bag that thousands of woman owned. Even my Vanessa has one just like it, I mentally noted.

As she hung the bag on her shoulder I saw the bright red nail polish. It matched the equally red lipstick she wore, giving her an almost sexy, seductress veneer bordering on slutty look.

In the 15 years we've been married, I've never seen Vanessa wear anything as garish, as flamboyant, as that bright shade of red now plastered on this woman's nails and lips.

However, it complimented the sophisticated, power look perfectly. But her sophisticated attire also made her look out-of-place down here at a sleazy Motel. It was the sort of look one would expect someone rich and famous wearing to a 5 star Hotel in downtown LA.

She flicked back her distinctive strawberry blonde hair, a major point that had drawn me to making the initial comparison to Vanessa... damn they looked like two peas in a pod... as she moved around the car to the driver's side.

At this stage I hadn't even bothered to look at him but now could see that he was a typical power dressing, suave type. Tall, dark hair, good looking, confident. I think it was Billy Joel who sung "He looked to me, suspiciously, like someone I've never seen before in my life." Or was that Leo Sayer? No matter.

He carried a suit changer in one hand and took the Vanessa clones hand in the other. He bent over and gave her a smouldering kiss before they began walking closely together over to the line of rooms. I had to admit... they made a beautiful couple and there was no question as to what they would shortly be indulging in. With the way they were dressed and were acting they looked like lovers rushing to a clandestine meeting: hence the out of context cheap motel.

Just wait 'til I tell Vanessa about this, I laughed. I suddenly realised that I had my phone on me. If I'd thought of it sooner, I could have taken some photos or even video.

Oh well, a distant shot will just have to do. I extracted my Apple phone, raised it and clicked off two quick photos, getting them just before they disappeared into a room. Perhaps I can blow them up to show her tomorrow, I thought.

With that accomplished, I climbed into my car and headed home. My thoughts back on the printing task ahead of me.

...

Once I arrived home I headed straight for my study/office and replaced the printer cartridge.

The task of printing began and I sat and watched it, as often we gormlessly do, as page after page flew off the laser printer. It was flowing smoothly without any further involvement from me. I allowed my mind to wander.

My name is James Bendon. No, not James Bond! Hell, I've had those jokes all my life. It's Bendon. James Bendon. I had first met my lovely Vanessa during my final year of my MBA. Finance was the name of the game and I had already been recruited by a big name Brokerage house so my future was assured. She was finishing her Nursing degree and we met by chance at one of the many student coffee houses and just "clicked" from day 1.

We got engaged but we both decided that we had to live life to the fullest before we tied the knot in marriage. I was earning great money in the wild world of options trading. We lived hard and played harder for 5 years before both realising we now wanted something else.

So we married. By then I was 30; Vanessa 28. It was now time for children and we dutifully presented two children in the next five years, with Vanessa having her tubes tied after experiencing complications during the second birth.

The fast paced lifestyle and constant work pressure all got a bit much for me and at age 35 I had my first heart attack. Options trading really is a young mans' game.

I moved out of trading and into mergers, acquisitions and IPO's. Still with pressure but nothing like day trading. However, raising the children was borne more and more by Vanessa and by putting in long hours at my job, neglecting my health, I was still on a pathway to hell.

My second and major heart attack happened when I was 40. Financially we had been very successful: large house paid off, university funds fully subscribed for the children and a very good retirement program in place. Naturally, I also had accumulated a very good investment portfolio. We would lack for nothing financially.

Vanessa put her foot down. She didn't want a wealthy corpse for a husband. I resigned from my job and established a private office at home. Only one client: VJ Family Trust. Us!

Out was speculative day trading and in was buying and long term holding of stocks. All a la Warren Buffett style strategy. With only 5 positions to monitor (taken only after extensive research) I only needed about 2 hours per week checking and all was ok. Any other time I spent was simply to enjoy researching different sectors, industries and companies.

All the pressure was off and I could now enjoy working at home. What was astonishing was that I was making more in capital gains now than I had earned on salary and bonus at the Brokerage firm. Go figure. Proving the value of good, well chosen, long term positions.

(That's enough of the Financial Services market jargon. I promise. LS.)

By now I was 45 and was a lot more involved with the children and helping out around the home. For a while I felt like a part time chauffeur ferrying the kids around from one extra-curriculum event to another. Vanessa financially didn't have to work but needed to get out and about to "keep me sane" so she said, so was working part time as a Nurse in a local clinic.

So, five years after the life changing heart attack we were still very much in love. That love had morphed into a closeness, a meeting of the minds; a shared role of raising our children. Those of you who have been married for a few years will recognise this and can relate to it, I'm sure.

What had caused me to reminisce like this? Like meandering along a wild garden path. Something in my head had clutched at my doppelgänger scene from earlier. My unconscious mind must have worried it like a dog with a bone... and all of a sudden there was a flicker of doubt in my head. A strange voice was telling me... or reminding me... that the man my Vanessa had been with, was not a complete stranger. A flicker of recognition began materialising. Yes, it was becoming clearer now. I'm sure I had seen him before.

It was more the way he carried himself. A visible attitude, rather than his actual looks.

Having dealt with mega wealthy clients throughout my career, I began to recognise it as a common trait among that group. A sort of superiority attitude.

I now wished I had looked at him more closely but, at the time, I had simply been marvelling at the "twin" version of my wife. Remembering my phone photos, I dug it out and enlarged the view, perhaps hoping it would reveal something I hadn't been looking for earlier. Nothing. No lightening flash of recognition, although my wife... correction, her "twin"... still looked fantastic. Yes, I'll show her these later so she can see how I was deceived and we can have a good laugh.

As I continued waiting for the print task to complete, my mind wouldn't let it go. A vision slowly became clearer. Tall, dark, handsome with an attitude. Yes, it could fit. The doctors at the private clinic my wife worked at had often displayed such an attitude. Oh, don't get me wrong. Their bedside manner with their private clients didn't show that at all. It was in the afterhours... the occasional practice dinner at Christmas with all the staff. Yes, I'm sure that's where I recognised that attitude from. I'm sure it was one of her practice Doctors.

But... if it was one of her Doctors, then that would mean that... Nooooo. It couldn't have been her! Surely not. Because that would mean...

My mind didn't even want to go there. It shied away like a skittish horse.

The reason I was able to work this late at night was because the house was empty, except for me. My lovely wife Vanessa had left six days prior to take our two children for a week-long visit to their grandparents in San Diego. After she dropped them off she was to return part way to spend a night... or possibly two... with her best friend Diane. From there they were both off to spend 4 nights/3 days at a special spa where they would be primped and pampered to their heart's content.

It was costing a disgusting amount of money but my Vanessa deserved every minute of it, I had told her. I left out that it was actually a signing on present from my new publisher. But I had decided that Vanessa deserved to take it for the support she had shown me, particularly over the last few years. I'll tell her the truth when she gets back, I had already decided.

Going to those places alone isn't much fun so I had convinced her to take one of her friends. Someone she could squeal and gossip with while complaining about their poor lives. LOL. You know what I mean; sharing the experience. She chose Diane.

She wouldn't have been my first choice for her to take. I had never really gelled with Diane, even after all these years. They had been best friends together way back at University. Vanessa had stayed in touch, even throughout Diane's two divorces. For some reason that I couldn't put a finger on, I just didn't trust her completely. Listening to some of their stories of what they had got up to together all those years ago didn't exactly sooth my concerns either. Oh well, that was Diane. I trusted my Vanessa explicitly.

Anyway, Vanessa and our two children would all be back home tomorrow night, less than 24 hours from now.

Wrenching my mind away from my dark thoughts, I managed to concentrate back on the reason why I had wanted a week all to myself. It had given me time to correct the final, final draft (LOL. All writers know about this) with my editor and publisher for my book on "Investment Strategies for the laid back Man and Woman". Riveting stuff, eh? LOL. Just remember... it works. I had personally tested it.

...

After a night of tossing and turning... and a day that lasted about 40 hours, I finally heard the garage doors opening to allow Vanessa's car pull smoothly into our garage.

I had occupied myself by preparing a light dinner for the family, knowing that they no doubt would have stopped for junk food mid-afternoon for the kids. That was always part of the regular treats of visiting the "gramps".

As teenagers it was considered "not cool" to be too excited over menial things like visiting grandparents but they couldn't fool me. I could see they were excitedly happy about their week long break. They trudged off to their rooms with their bags and goodies they had managed to con their "gramps" out of. All good fun.

Finally, there was my lovely wife. This was the conservative, soccer mum version: not the sex kitten version of last night. Was I wrong? Doubts set in immediately. How stupid of me to even think that. This was my beautiful wife, not some high class slut.

I hugged her tight.

"Did you miss me?" Vanessa asked.

"Yes... but watch out, my aim's getting better," I replied in a joke that had gone on ever since we had played paintball back in our University days.

I eased her back out to arms reach and looked at her. Really looked at her closely. Yes, she was spick and span. Skin scrubbed and cleansed, eyebrows plucked and waxed to perfection. She literally glowed with good health. Her eyes flickered and flashed and her smile went ear to ear. Wow, this hottie was beautiful... and she was my wife.

Instantly I was struck with a thought: She looks well fucked! You guys will know what I mean. Back in our Grandparents day when a couple got married and returned from their honeymoon, the new wife was often described as "glowing" with love. Supposedly having participated in sexual acts for the first time. (Yeah, right! We know they were just as randy back then as now. They just had to hide it from society's eyes.)

Damn... that devil on one shoulder had to say it: he just HAD to fucking well say it. "Is she really all YOUR wife?" the devil asked. "Or... are you now... her part time husband?"

That little prick. That arsehole. Fuck off, I mentally challenged.

"If you don't mind... I'm going upstairs for a quick shower," Vanessa said. "Can you hold supper for about 45 minutes, sweetheart?"

"Sure, no problem. You can tell me all about the spa after we've eaten."

"Ok. I hope you aren't too revved up sweetheart because... after supper... it'll be an early night for me. It's been a long day and I'm exhausted after all that driving," she tactfully explained, heading off at the pass any erotic thoughts I may have had.

As she said this she raised her hand to give a gentle caress to the side of my face. That's when I noticed it. There was the evidence before me. It was indisputable.

She caressed my face with a hand that had red painted nails. The exact same red I had seen last night on that hot looking doppelganger.

I immediately flicked my eyes at her mouth... but it was bare of lipstick. Obviously she had time to clean her face but insufficient time to remove the nail polish from her fingers.

Luckily she had already turned away to head off to our bathroom otherwise she would have seen my face go white with shock. My heart was beating so fast... so loudly... I wondered if it was my time. Would this be the end of me? Bought down by fucking red lipstick!

Out of her sight, I staggered over to a lounge chair and dropped into its welcoming embrace. I frantically tried to breathe deeply, attempting to control my breathing. I closed my eyes and counted slowly to 20. I could do this; I really could.

I realised I had stabilised my breathing but kept deep breathing hoping to add to my recovery. Now I could relax my tight hands that I hadn't known I'd grasped in a clench. Now breathing was easier... and finally, I knew it wasn't going to escalate into a full scale heart attack situation. I had saved myself.

What to do? What to do?

I sat there for about 30 minutes undisturbed, collecting my wits about me.

My wife had cheated on me... last night... with someone who I thought may have been a work colleague. It seemed pretty clear now.

As her loving husband, what should I do? As a man... what should I do? I was no accepting cuckold that would allow a wife to do this to me. Or, was I?

Weirdly, my thoughts became crystal clear, like I had just solved some analytical equation I had worked on.

There was something I hadn't mentioned that was pertinent to the situation. Well, ok... very pertinent.

Over the last 5 years, there had been one huge fly in our ointment of happiness. A massive one, as far as I was concerned. With my high blood pressure and propensity for heart attacks... one more would probably be the end of me, or so the witchdoctors told me... my medications acted to remove any chance I had to gain an erection. Yes, I had erectile dysfunction of the worst kind.