I Loved Her Too Much to Leave Her

When I got back home Lisa met me at the door as though nothing had happened. Did I want to have dinner at home? Did I want to go out? Did I want a drink? Sorry about that guest room thing, your stuff is back in our room.

"Did you talk to Christopher?" I asked.

"Christopher? Oh Christopher. Yeah, he called and said he and Sue were getting a divorce and he wouldn't be seeing us much any more."

It was surreal! Wouldn't be seeing "us" any more. What the hell was that?

Then she took my face in her two hands, stood on her tiptoes, and gave me a kiss.

"Darling," she said, "I'm sorry we had that spat. I love you and I want things to be okay again. Can we do that?"

Spat! What we had was a spat? Like a fight over whether to serve our dinner guests steak or lobster? I tried to get my mind around what was in her head. For her, an infidelity discovered and discussed was a "spat" to be ended with a kiss.

I took her arm and led her into the study. "Lisa we have to have a talk. I want you to tell me about your affair with Stan Morgan."

She looked surprised. "He left town over a year ago."

"Yes he did," I said. "Tell me about your affair with Stan Morgan."

"Did someone tell you I had an affair with Stan?"

I nodded.

"Well it's not true!" Lisa was emphatic.

She seemed genuinely puzzled. "Who told you a thing like that?"

"Stan said he fucked you up against the wall in his office and at motels all over town and in his car and in this house in the guest room. Is that true?"

"That was over two years ago." Lisa seemed to think it was too long ago to matter.

"Is it true?" I asked again.

"Well I guess so. But why are you bringing all that up now? Nothing ever came of it. He left town. I didn't really care very much about him anyway. Why are you so damn jealous?"

It seemed pointless to talk to her. She had no concept of what she had done. She simply brushed it off as casual, insignificant, behavior -- no different from dancing with someone else's husband at a club dinner dance. She placed no value on it.

"Lisa, what if I went to bed with Sue?"

She looked at me though I'd lost my mind. "Sue? Sue Alban? She's ten years older than you are and she's fat."

"Okay, what if I went to bed with a younger woman -- someone beautiful?"

She continued to look at me as though I were nuts. "Okay, I guess I know what you're asking me. If she made you happy and made us happy and you didn't plan to leave me and run off with her and nobody knew about it -- then it's okay for a while I guess. Who would it hurt?"

I seemed to be getting nowhere. "Would it hurt you?"

"Not if I didn't know about it! If I found out about it I might ask you to stop, but I wouldn't get jealous about it. You're my husband. You're staying with me. You'd stop seeing her if I asked you to. Why would I care?"

Lisa had no notion of the concept of betrayal. Sex was not different from many other interpersonal relations. She seemed to think it was strange that so many people thought that it was. Lisa was not going to change. She was what she was. And as I sat there in the study, thinking about our lives together, I suddenly realized that I loved her too much -- too much to leave her.

That was five years ago. Our lives had returned to normal as I tried to make myself forget -- at least most of the time -- what had happened. There had been another period of what I thought of as the "bubbly" Lisa about two years ago. It had lasted about three months and I had engaged a private detective to investigate her activities. He collected the usual list of motel room meetings, visits to our home when I was traveling, and mysterious phone calls. He installed a video camera in our guest bedroom and I watched several passionate sessions of lovemaking. Her lover was a businessman that I occasionally did business with.

On that occasion I had sat her down in the study and shown her the report from the detective. There was no need to show her the video. She had hung her head in silence. I had told her to end the affair and she had done so. Her "bubbles" went away, our fantastic sex went away, and our life returned to normal.

Now it was all happening again. I could tell because the "bubbles" had returned to Lisa's behavior. Our sex life was great and our social life was wonderful. There was no need to hire the private detective again -- I simply turned on the hidden, motion-sensitive, video camera in the guest bedroom and left town for several days. On my return I viewed a video of several hours of passionate sex. It was a close friend of mine, a golfing buddy from the club, Roger Wiggins. I had played a round of golf with him just the week before.

Decision time - once again. I loved her too much to leave her. I could stop her any time I wanted to, just by telling her to stop, but she would find another lover. My decision was made for me that night during happy hour at the club. Roger and his wife Bev walked in and Bev waved and smiled at Lisa and me. She grabbed Roger's arm and drug him across the room to join us.

"Hi Lisa. Hi Bobby. Join us for a drink why don't you?" Bev was all smiles and friendly.

I wondered what was going on in her head. Roger was just the same as last week when we played golf -- not a clue that he was fucking my wife. The four of us got a table and Bev asked Lisa about her golf lessons. We held a routine friendly conversation for ten minutes or so. Then Bev excused herself and headed for the ladies' room giving me a special look as she left the table. I figured she wanted to talk so I headed for the men's room.

Bev grabbed my arm as I rounded the corner into the hallway. "Let's go outside," she said.

I followed her out the side door of the club.

"We just have a minute," Bev said urgently. "You and I need to talk. Can you come by my place tomorrow afternoon?"

I nodded. It was obvious that Bev was suspicious of her husband and my wife.

The next day I took the afternoon off and was at Bev's house by two o'clock. She met me at the door.

"Do you know what I want to talk about?" Bev asked as she showed me into the living room.

"I think so," I responded. "Your husband is fucking my wife. How did you figure it out?"

"Sit down and I'll tell you. It's early, but I need a drink," Bev said pointing to a bottle of Macallan-12. "Do you want one?"

"Yeah, I think I need one too," I answered.

Bev put ice into two glasses and poured generous drinks.

Taking a big swallow of the chilled liquid, she began her story. "Roger started acting kinda strange about a month or so ago. He quit fucking me and made some mysterious phone calls. I figured something was up and I parked outside his office several days in a row and one day he left early and headed for your house. He spent all afternoon there. I called your office and your secretary said you were out of town. I figured he was fucking Lisa."

I nodded. Then I told a little lie. "Lisa started acting strange. I pretended to leave town and watched the house. Roger came by and stayed most of the afternoon. Several days later I did it again and after he arrived I sneaked in the back and checked out the bedroom. They were fucking like newly weds. He stayed three hours."

I left out the part about the video. That would remain my personal secret.

"So what do we do about it?" Bev asked.

"What do you want to do?" I countered.

"I'm mad as hell at the bastard. He did this once before several years ago and promised never again. But now he's at it again. Shit! I don't know what to do."

"Well Bev, I hate to admit this, but I've got more experience than I really want in this sort of thing, and the first question you have to ask yourself is whether or not you want a divorce. If you do, you get a private detective to collect the evidence and pictures -- the usual stuff - and then you get a lawyer. Do you want a divorce?"

"That's what pisses me off. I got a good life. I got a good man except when he screws around. I don't want a divorce. I'm mad! Mad as hell! But I don't want a divorce -- I want to get even. I want to make that bastard as mad at me as I am at him."

"Let's have another drink," I said seeing that she had finished hers and so had I.

She poured us more single malt. Then she asked, "Are you getting a divorce?"

"No. I've been through this before with Lisa. Her affairs last only two or three months and if I catch her she quits right away. I'm hurt and I'm mad. But there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I love her too much to leave her."

"You poor, pathetic bastard! You're as crazy as I am! We're both fools! We love 'em too much! What the hell can we do?" Bev asked in frustration.

"I don't know," I said. "In the past, I've told her to stop when I couldn't take it any more. We could just wait a couple of months and it will be over. I really don't know what to do."

"Why don't we give them a dose of their own medicine?" Bev asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Roger will be home in a couple of hours. Why don't you and I go to bed and let him catch us fucking?"

Bev was not a bad looking woman -- in fact, she was darn good looking. Five-four, 110 pounds, nice tits and great, long legs. I hadn't fucked anybody except Lisa for years but her invitation made me think about how nice it would be to spread those long legs of hers. What the hell did I have to lose?

"Let's finish our scotch and give it a try," I said with a smile.

And we did. Bev was even better than I had hoped. She fucked like a mink and I gave her two orgasms before I pumped my first load. She laughed as we rested, lying naked in bed. We did it again, then, played around a bit and Bev sucked my cock.

"You're bigger than Roger," she said. "A good two inches longer. That's great! I'm gonna tell him that's why I enjoy fucking you. I want to hurt that bastard's ego."

I started to crawl between her legs.

"Not yet honey. I want you good and hard and fucking me big time when he walks in," Bev said.

We waited. When we heard the garage door open, Bev sucked my cock to get me ready and we started to fuck doggie-style both of us facing the bedroom door. Her tits were hanging down and jiggling and I was reaching around with one hand playing with her tits and the other tickling her clit.

"Bev," Roger called, "where are you?"

"Up here honey. In the bedroom."

When he walked in I was banging away and Bev was grunting like a whore. Roger stopped in the door, frozen and staring at us.

"Pour yourself a drink and sit down honey," Bev said. "We'll be through in a minute. Jesus! Bobby's a good fuck. He's two inches longer than you are and this is his third time servicing me this afternoon."

Roger just stood there staring. I realized I wasn't going to come in this situation so I decided to fake it, and I did with what I thought was a convincing bit of sound and fury. I think Bev faked it too and we collapsed on the bed panting for breath.

Bev got out from under me and with a big smile ran over to Roger, her tits bouncing delightfully. She gave him a big kiss on the cheek before putting on her robe. I rolled out of bed and grabbed Roger's robe and put it on. Then I followed them down to the living room where Bev was pouring three drinks. She had put an extra glass on the table before we started to fuck.

Roger seemed almost paralyzed and speechless. Bev continued to chatter like a magpie, laughing and smiling.

"Sorry about that Roger," Bev said. "We were having so much fun we lost track of the time. Damn! You ought to see Bobby's cock when it gets hard. It's a lot bigger than yours."

Finally Roger found his voice and he shouted. "How long has this been going on?"

Bev kept on laughing and smiling. "I started fucking Bobby about the time you quite fucking me and started fucking Lisa. We're having as much fun as you and Lisa. Maybe we ought to invite her over and do it as a foursome tonight."

Roger got red in the face. He was so angry I thought he might take a swing at me and I moved back a little.

Roger shouted at Bev. "Cunt! Bitch! How the hell could you do this to me?"

"Don't be a spoil-sport Roger," Bev laughed, delightfully. "It was your idea to start fucking around. I just followed your lead."

Roger turned to me. "Get dressed and get the hell out of here. Lisa is not going to like this when she finds out."

And Lisa didn't like it. Roger had called her and when I walked into the house she met me, agitated and in tears.

"How could you do this to me?" Lisa sobbed.

"Darling, we went over all of this after your last affair. You said it would be okay if I fucked another woman because you knew I'd stop if you asked me to. Do you want me to stop fucking Bev?"

I tried to be as casual about it as Bev had been with Roger - as casual as Lisa had been about her affairs with other men. Lisa just stood there and cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"How long have you been fucking her," Lisa sobbed.

"We started to fuck about the time that you and Roger did," I said staying with Bev's story. "What was that? Over a month ago I think. Bev is a really great fuck -- not as good as you honey -- but really good. It's been a struggle for me to keep servicing you both."

"I want you to stop," said Lisa still sobbing.

"Of course darling," I said solicitously. "Could you tell me why?"

"It makes me feel sick to my stomach," she sobbed.

I took her in my arms. "Of course I'll stop dear."

With that I picked up the phone and called Roger's house. Bev answered the phone.

"Hi Bev," I said. "Lisa doesn't like the idea of you and me in bed together. I told her we would stop. Is that alright with you?"

I listened to her answer, which was a great big laugh and the comment that Roger had decided that his affair with Lisa ought to stop also.

I hung up the phone. I took Lisa in my arms again. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Lisa just pressed her face into my chest and cried. After a few minutes I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face up, kissing her gently on the lips.

"Why don't we shower and go to the club for dinner?" I said.

And we did. As we walked toward the club from the parking lot Roger pulled in and helped Bev out of the car. I took Lisa's arm and waited for them.

"Shall we have dinner together? That seems the civilized thing to do," I said.

Bev chuckled. "Yeah, let's do that. Just like old friends. I've been telling Pee-wee here how good it is to fuck a guy that's well hung."

I looked quickly at Roger. His head was down, he was silent, and he was looking at the ground as he walked. Bev's sarcasm had obviously been punching holes in his ego. This was what she had wanted to do and I suspected her troubles with Roger were over.

And my troubles with Lisa were over as well - for the time being. But I knew it would happen again. And when it did, I suppose I would still love her too much to leave her, just as I did at that very moment.