House of Cards Ch. 07

It certainly hadn't been a well thought-out plan on my part, just an idea that seemed worth trying. But now instead of there being a triangle of Tom/Marianne/Eddie inside both our heads, there was a Tom/Marianne/Carrie triangle (at least for Marianne), and Eddie just seemed less and less important, even to me.

I could even begin to think that—not yet, but at some time in the future—I could make love to Marianne without my rage about Eddie totally ruining it for me. My guess was that Marianne's fears about Carrie would focus on sex, and that she'd be so worried about my affair that anything sexual having to do with Eddie would be far from her mind.

As I straightened the apartment and checked on the dinner I was cooking, I found myself looking forward to sharing with Marianne my sexual exploits with the imaginary Carrie—she had made it clear she wanted to know about them. The advantage of a fictitious affair is that it can go just the way you want it to go! I intended to make my sex with Carrie sound as hot as possible.

When Marianne arrived she once again looked terrific. My wife was always beautiful, but when she set out to look her best she was totally stunning. She had on low heels that added to her height, and a pastel blue skirt that swirled around her when she walked. Her sleeveless blouse was white and a little bit see-through, so that I got the impression of a lacy bra beneath it. Without even thinking about it I took her in my arms as I let her into the apartment, and gave her a big kiss.

I think it surprised both of us! She looked at me and said, "wow, Tom, that was nice! I think I'd like another one, but let me put down this food first!" She had brought a big salad in a wooden bowl, and some ice cream for dessert.

She followed me into the kitchen as I put the ice cream in the freezer, and without hesitation said, "OK, what about that other kiss now?"

Looking at her seriously, I embraced her, drawing her to me slowly, and brought our faces together. This kiss was a long one—gentle at first, then gradually more passionate, as we held each other close. It probably lasted two minutes or more—somewhere in that time we had begun swapping tongues—and we both were short of breath when we broke apart. I had an erection that she surely must have felt pressing against her.

For me it had really been a test—could I kiss and hold Marianne without my mind reeling from thoughts of her kissing and embracing Eddie? And to my relief, I found that it was all right. I didn't forget about him, but the pleasure of Marianne being in my arms made my other thoughts unimportant.

Marianne smiled radiantly at me, still in my arms and holding me a foot or so away from her. "Tom, you've made me happier than I've been in weeks, since ... since this whole thing started. Being back in your arms like that is all I want!"

I grinned back at her. "Well you could probably tell that I was enjoying it too! How about some dinner, and we can think about some more of that later on?" This too was totally unexpected. I had no notion that we'd do anything more than talk tonight, and now it appeared the evening might go in a very different direction.

She tossed the salad while I brought out the dinner I'd cooked—chicken sauteed with artichoke hearts, and wild rice. Again she was impressed with my cooking, and I was pleased about that. Over the years of our marriage I had more and more left the cooking to Marianne, though I had been a pretty good cook in college. I guess that both of us forgot about my abilities—it was nice to be reminded.

After dinner we sat on the couch, and at once Marianne asked me about Carrie.

"Tom, it seems crazy, but I think I want you to tell me about your relationship with Carrie—how it started, and what's going on now. I know that you needed to hear all about my affair with Eddie, even though it was obvious how painful it was for you to listen to it."

"I think I'm feeling what you must have felt—that it's better to know the truth, even if it's awful, then to be at the mercy of my imagination."

"OK, honey," I said. "I'll tell you about it. Unless you don't want me to, or unless you stop me, I'll give it to you with all the details. As you say, then you'll know the whole situation."

She looked very worried, even though our kisses and the friendly dinner that had followed must have reassured her somewhat.

"Carrie works for a company that does a lot of business with mine. I've known her casually for two or three years, because we are in on a number of business meetings with other people. Once or twice a group of us has gone out for a drink after work and we've both been there, but always with 6-8 other people. We'd never spent time alone until about three weeks ago."

"Carrie is 27. She doesn't look much like you. She's only about 5' 2", and very curvy. Not heavy, but pretty voluptuous, with wide hips and really nice breasts."

Marianne grimaced a little, but didn't tell me to stop. I went on.

"She's got light brown hair, and dark eyes. What makes her particularly attractive is that she's lively and funny—sort of perky, except that I hate that word. She laughs a lot, and even in business meetings I've noticed she never seems to take things all that seriously—she doesn't think engineering or building construction are the most important things in the world."

"Two nights after I ... confronted you about Eddie, I had a business meeting with Carrie and some other people that went nearly until 6pm. Four or five of us went out for a drink, but after a little while everyone but Carrie and me had to leave. We were having a nice time, so I asked if she wanted to have dinner with me."

"She knows I'm married, so she asked right away, 'what about your wife? Aren't you going home to her?' And I told her the truth: that I'd caught you having an affair, and I'd moved out of the house."

"I was completely honest. I said that I still loved you, but I was unbelievably angry and hurt, and I had no idea about whether my marriage would ever be the same, or even whether there would be a marriage. I said, 'I guess in the shape I'm in, I'm the last person you'd ever want to have dinner with.' "

"But she told me, 'on the contrary, Tom, I've always liked you. You think the way I do, you're not so serious and solemn about the work we do. You have a sense of fun, and that appeals to me. I would love to have dinner with you!' "

"We had dinner at a seafood place on Thomaston Ave., and it was very pleasant. Carrie is easy to be with, and we had a good time chatting, not talking about anything serious. I learned a little about her background. She grew up in Miami, and at one time was an expert water-skier. She even did those fancy tricks—like skiing backwards, or holding onto the rope with just one foot—and she taught water-skiing for a while. She's lived in Cleveland ever since she finished college."

When the check came I paid it and offered to drop her at home, and she said, 'Where are you staying since you moved out, Tom?' I told her I had a room at the Holiday Inn. She just looked directly at me and said, 'I hear the rooms there are very nice. May I come and take look at yours?' "

"I was pretty surprised. I said, 'Carrie, are you sure about this? Given my situation?' And she just said, 'Tom, for a long time you have been on my "Damn, too bad he's married" list. At the moment you're not on that list, at least not all the way. I'm a big girl, and this is exactly what I want to do.' "

"I was incredibly flattered, and I told her so. We drove over to the hotel, went up to my room, and I made us a couple of drinks. We just sat on the sofa for a bit, talking some more. She asked me right out if I'd ever been with another woman since I got married, and I told her no. I was feeling a bit nervous! But she just smiled, and said she had a feeling we were going to be very good together."

"I put my arm around her and pulled her gently to me for a kiss, which she was more than ready for. We just necked for a long time, maybe half an hour. Eventually I began touching her breasts, which are large and firm. We both were very excited. She was breathing hard just from our kissing, and she groaned with pleasure when I first touched her breasts."

"She pulled away from me for a minute and said, 'can I tell you something, Tom? I love oral, both giving and receiving; and I really love having my breasts touched.' It was a big turn-on for me that she was being so open and direct with me."

"I picked her right up without a word, carried her over to the bed, took off her top and her bra, and began caressing her breasts."

I stopped myself to look over at Marianne, who was hunched up tensely in the far corner of the couch. She looked like a cornered animal. "Are you sure you want me to go on with this, Marianne? I could give you the short version."

"No, go ahead, Tom," she answered quietly. "I know that you had to listen to me and Eddie together. I don't see why I should be spared. And I need to know—having to imagine it myself is even worse."

I resumed my story. "Carrie really does adore having her breasts touched. I stroked them, at first avoiding her nipples but coming closer and closer; then I lightly brushed over them with my palms. She had her eyes closed, and was moaning quietly. She liked having the nipples pinched, but only gently, so I did that for a while. Then I kept my hand on one breast and lightly licked and kissed the other. It was very exciting for me too—being with a new woman after so long, and her being so responsive. And her breasts are just very beautiful."

"After a while I slid down lower and took off her skirt, then her panties, which were very wet. Since she said she loved oral, I kept my hands on her breasts while sliding my tongue right up her thighs into her pussy. I worked on her nice and slow—sometimes concentrating on her breasts while I very lightly licked her lips, then sometimes focusing on her clitoris with my tongue while lightly stroking across her nipples. I went back and forth, back and forth, until her hips were jerking back and forth at me and her moans were pretty continuous."

"I could tell she was getting close, so I moved back up to her breasts, latched on to one with my mouth, and used both hands down below. With one hand I stroked her clitoris, and with the other I slid two fingers inside her and moved them in and out. About a minute of that treatment was all she could take—she gasped, then cried out and had a wonderful orgasm, shaking up and down. I just took my fingers out of her, slid up next to her, and held her in my arms while she quivered, and then rocked her while she relaxed, sighing, her eyes closed the whole time."

"I felt great. I had been very nervous about being with another woman, unsure of whether I could please her. But I had obviously made Carrie feel very good—so no matter what else happened that night, I wouldn't feel like a failure."

"After a couple of minutes she looked up at me and said, 'Jesus, Tom. If I had known you could do that to me, I would have jumped you right on the table at the restaurant!' I just smiled and said, 'you are such an exciting and beautiful woman, Carrie. I loved touching you and pleasing you that way.' "

"She said, 'I hope you're going to love me touching and pleasing you too!' She pushed me down flat on my back, then got my clothes off, and immediately started caressing and stroking my cock. It took all of about 45 seconds before it was as hard as it's ever been. She teased me pretty much the way I had teased her—she used her hands or licked up and down it with her tongue until I was frantic, then backed off a little until I calmed down. She has a way of letting her mouth relax and open very wide, so that she could take my balls into her mouth very comfortably and I didn't feel afraid she'd bite down on them by accident. After a lot of teasing, she started giving me a serious blowjob, clearly aiming to finish me off."

"But I stopped her, and said, 'Carrie, I'd really like to finish inside you, if I could.' She smiled and climbed up on top of me. As she held my cock and slid down on it, she said, 'I'm on the pill, Tom—please go ahead and cum in me when you're ready.' Then she rode me, slowly and steadily, gradually getting faster in her up-and-down strokes, smiling into my eyes the whole time, until I was completely out of control. I was bucking my hips wildly, groaning at her, clutching her around the waist to keep her planted on me, and I exploded like crazy. I held her down on me as I came and came and came."

"I don't know if it was because this was someone new, Marianne, or whether it was because Carrie is very sexy and very enthusiastic, or because I hadn't had sex in more than a week—or all of those things. But it was one of the strongest, most complete orgasms I've ever had. I just lay there, exhausted, and finally said, 'Well, Carrie, you've just made an old man very very happy!' "

"She lay down next to me, her face shining with her own pleasure, and said, 'from the way I feel right now, you're just the right age for me!' Then she asked me if she could stay the night. I was surprised, but flattered and delighted. I said, 'of course, but if you stay in this bed I can't promise you an uninterrupted night of sleep.' And she just winked at me."

"We dozed for a while. To tell the truth I might have fallen asleep for the whole night, but after about an hour Carrie woke up. She began rubbing her breasts against me, drawing them back and forth across my chest. It felt really good, and I could tell it was getting her very aroused again. I started to stroke her back and sides with my hands, sometimes touching her breasts, while she continued to rub them on me. Then I pulled her up so her breasts were rubbing across my face, and I raised my hips and teased her pussy with my cock, rubbing it back and forth across her lips without letting it enter. I kept grabbing at her nipples with my lips as they went by, and sucking on them gently."

"We got more and more excited, teasing each other in this way. She started to moan, little 'oh, oh, oh!' sounds. I really wanted to be inside her, so I rolled her over beneath me and slid right into her in the missionary position. She had her eyes closed tight, and I just began stroking in and out steadily, easily."

As I narrated this scene, I was carefully watching Marianne. She looked more unhappy than ever, tightly pulled into herself in the corner of the sofa. I felt momentarily sorry for her—then I remembered the tape of her and Eddie in the motel that I had had to listen to, and my feelings hardened. Her pleasure and intimacy with him continued to fill me with rage! So if my made-up story gave Marianne a taste of the same kind of pain, I had no intention of stopping. I continued my narration.

"I gradually worked up to a faster and faster pace, nice and steadily. It was great that I had already come once earlier in the evening with Carrie, so I knew I could last for a while. By the time I was ready to let go, she had already had one really big, shuddering orgasm. Her second one came just as I was about to reach my peak, trying hard to keep my strokes long and smooth. But when her pussy clenched around me, I just went crazy for a few seconds, my hips jerking like mad, and the two of us convulsed pretty much at the same time. God, that felt good!"

"This time we both were exhausted. We just smiled at each other, lay together drowsily kissing for a few minutes, then fell soundly asleep."

"Thank God the next day was Saturday. We slept kind of late, and when I suggested we go downstairs for breakfast, Carrie wanted a shower first. Showering with her was amazingly erotic. We took our time washing one another. She did me first, doing my whole body but avoiding my penis until the end, though it was aching for her attention. She just soaped up my cock and balls, stroking them gently, smiling teasingly up at me while I groaned with how good it felt."

"I then teased her the same way, doing her arms, legs and torso but avoiding her breasts. At last I touched them, holding her from behind with my arms around her, and she just sighed and relaxed back into me. I slowly moved my soapy hands all over them, and she just totally melted. I could feel her breathing get faster and faster, and I wondered if we'd make it back to the bed or have sex right there in the shower. I began to reach ... "

I was interrupted by the sight of Marianne leaping to her feet, her face covered with tears. "Tom, stop! I just can't ... I thought I needed to hear this, but I ... I can't ... I don't know what ..."

She stopped, shuddered, and said, "I think I have to go now." And before I could say a word, she was out the door and headed downstairs.

I quickly went after her, not to stop her but to make sure she got to her car safely. From a short distance away I saw her run to her car, get in, put on her seat belt, and drive away.

Walking back upstairs to my apartment I was aware of a fascinating mixture of feelings. My own story had turned me on—the imaginary Carrie was one sexy lady! For the very first time since confronting Marianne about her cheating, more than three weeks earlier, I felt horny and interested in sex. It was nice to know that my libido had just been sleeping, not dead.

Next, I felt sympathy for Marianne. She had asked to hear about me and Carrie, and I'd certainly given her her money's worth! I'd made it as hot as possible, without getting totally unrealistic, and it was clearly driving my wife crazy. I loved Marianne enough to feel sorry that she was hurting.

But of course at the same time I could still hear her voice saying to Eddie, "I'm so hot for it, let me just get my clothes off and you inside me!" I could play the whole tape of that horrible episode in my mind. I heard her sighs and groans of pleasure, and the intimate joking with her lover of eight months. It was her with Eddie unfiltered and uncensored—unquestionably far worse for me to hear than my stories of me and Carrie had been for Marianne.

I realized, not for the first time, that the process of getting over my rage would not be a straight line. For the most part I was considerably less angry with Marianne, and less devastated, than I had been three weeks earlier. I had started taking the initiative on my own behalf, and I felt more in control. It seemed much more likely now than it had before that she and I could eventually reconcile.

But the rage still boiled up from time to time, every bit as hot and furious as the first time. Getting over it was not going to be a slow-and-steady process, much more a slow-and-unsteady process. I would have to think hard about my next steps.