Megan's Story: The Healing

I wish to express my gratitude to angelicsounds and jlo for their gracious editorial assistance. Their assistance and insights have helped to move this story beyond the capabilities of this faulty author.

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Sunday October 12, 1980

Dear Diary: Yesterday afternoon over coffee Jan told me that neither Phil nor she had decided what they will be wearing to the Wolfe's Halloween party. Ken is going as Zorro and I will be a Spanish maiden.

I laughed and admitted that I have a thing for Zorro and proceeded to tell her about my fantasy of being taken by the masked hero. I am led to the dance floor by my masked rescuer; feeling his warm breath and hardness as we dance causes my heart to quicken. We dance without a word being spoken, until he whispers in my ear "Follow me." Yielding to my hopes and desires I follow him into the shadows or another room where he kisses me with manly urgency. He then lifts my skirt and kneels to feast on my womanhood. He lowers me to the ground or onto a convenient table. In a kneeling position with my skirt lifted and my panties removed, my masked lover positions his sword at its target; he enters me as my passion soars. He thrusts repeatedly into me bring each of us to a thunderous climax. Once we are both sated, he kisses my neck and whispers thank you. My legs collapse together in joyous fulfillment. By the time I turn, my masked lover has disappeared into the night leaving me basking in a pleasurable memory as his warmth trickles down my thighs. A little kinky yes, but a safe fantasy nevertheless.

When Jan asked if my husband knew I smiled, "why do you think he is going as Zorro?"

No sooner had I finished confessing my dream than Nick crashed into the kitchen signaling that Ken had returned from his little outing with the three kids. Stacy had little Holly in tow. We bid our goodbyes shortly and walked home with Holly upon Ken's shoulder. Trang picked up her daughter when she came for us to sign our tax forms.

Thursday October 16, 1980

Dear Diary: Last night Ken announced that his trip to Tokyo has been moved up to the 26th. He flies to Chicago late on the 24th for the team meeting on the 25th. One night with him out of town is tolerable, two nights and I start to feel lonely. By the fourth night I feel lost without him. I will be climbing the walls by the time he returns. At least we will still be able to attend the Wolfe's party as he won't need to leave until around 9:30 to catch the last flight. I have become reconciled to that idea that such trips are inevitable with Ken increasingly becoming one of the company's experts in computerizing shipment tracking.

Yesterday Mary got into a heated conversation with Randi over bus loading supervision. Mary has felt that she has had to carry those duties on too many Fridays. She feels that just because she, Nan and Erin are single Randi should not expect one of them to be assigned each week to be the last to leave. I concur with her; they have been doing more than their share. I spoke quietly with Randi. I offered to take the today's shift and the next two Friday's. Kezia offered to take extra shifts also.

I really like Kezia. She is one of the most soft spoken ladies I know. She has such a big heart that she would rather quietly go the extra mile than see another in distress. Her arrival at the school this year has been a blessing to many of us.

Saturday October 25, 1980

Dear Diary: Shortly after the last bus left the yard I rushed home. I took a warm bath. I was pleased that my time of month had ended. The oil made my skin feel so soothed. The lovely aroma of the peaches and cream body wash enhanced the experience. I was hoping to make love to my husband even if I had to leave the party early to have a quick moment at home. By 6:15 I walked the three blocks to the Wolfe's beautiful home to help Wendy and Paul as promised with setting up the refreshments. I am always stunned that its outer size and the landscaping hide its immense inner volume. Ken promised to be there by 7:30. He was to come directly from the office with his bags for his trip already in the car. Wendy was a dear, knowing Ken was leaving on business she mentioned she and Paul would have no issue with me taking Ken into one of their two guest bedrooms to give him a proper goodbye. When I asked if she was sure, she winked, "why do you think we are using our room tonight for the coats and not the guest room?"

The first couple arrived just before 7:30. By 8:00 fourteen of the seventeen couples had arrived. Jan and Phil dressed as a Greek god and goddess arrived a quarter before 8:00. Phil quickly mixed with the crowd, leaving Jan alone with Wendy and me. It may be my prejudices and dislike for him, but he seemed to me to be flirting as if he really was a sex god of some sort. Before leaving us Wendy reminded me that the guest room was available. Since Jan overheard us I then had to explain to her what Wendy was referring to.

I was becoming concerned as I had not yet seen my husband. At 8:20 my concerns were put to rest when I noticed him emerging from the washroom. I lost sight of him and could not find him by the time I moved through the crowd. Coming out of the kitchen my masked hero stepped behind me and put his arms around my waist. Having my hero hold me felt good, particularly after looking forward to being with him albeit briefly before his flight. His hug and his subtle discrete touching of my breasts caused me to moan quietly. Standing behind me he whispered barely loud enough for me to hear, "let's dance."

Without another word he led me to the dance floor in the basement's recreation room. In his Zorro costume, complete with mask, hat, a long toy sword and a bullwhip coiled on his hip Ken was fully into the character. His black shirt was fully laced and black leather pants were rather tight. His black boots made him seem an inch taller. My hero was just as I imagined.

We danced for four songs. He held my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beating as his hands slowly moved over my back. Repeatedly, he lowered his head to kiss the nap of my neck. It may have been the setting, it may have been the costumes, it may have been my distorted senses and thoughts that I was soon going to be without him for a week, but Ken's body tone seemed to be a little firmer than I was accustomed to. During the third song I felt his hardened manhood. I was thrilled that I could still arouse Ken by just dancing with him. He seemed even harder during the fourth song. In my mind I said "he wants me." I wanted him. Seconds after the song ended he quietly whispered "follow me."

He broke from me and moved toward the stairway while passing through the five or six dancing couples. My heart was pounding in my breast. My adorable husband was giving me my fantasy. I thought that he was gifting me a memory to keep me warm while he was away. It took me a few seconds to get my legs moving but I soon followed him. I was about five steps behind him as we moved up the stairway. On the first floor he moved up the second flight of stairs to the upper floor. My excitement was swelling within. I knew what was ahead. I was giddy with joy and drunk with love for my husband.

As I approached the stairs I looked back. My eyes caught Jan. She saw my masked hero three stairs ahead. Her look told me she knew what was coming. I smiled. She smiled. Her lips spoke "Have fun," and she winked. I smiled slyly and nodded.

I followed him to the right into the long hallway. As he was about to enter one of the kid's bedroom, I walked past him and into the guest bedroom two door down. I knew what he wanted. What he wanted, I absolutely lusted for. I remember thinking "it is exactly like my fantasy." My Zorro closed the door to the guest bedroom and drew me into his arms. In the room illuminated only by a distant streetlight he kissed me. I kissed my husband hard in return. My tongue sought and found his. I wanted him to remember this kiss each night we were apart.

His hands danced across by back. My hand moved to his crotch and felt his cloth covered raging glory. Aggressively he pushed up my top and bra. My masked hero went after my exposed breasts with lustful eagerness. The strength and swiftness of his actions was unlike him; then again this was a fantasy he was playing out. Compounding the fantasy affect were our mutual frustrations at his pending departure. He was getting into a roll by taking my titties in a different fashion than normal. I loved his usual oral caresses and love making upon my titties. Though not as pleasurable, this too was enjoyable. Yet he finished too quickly.

Then when I started to drop to my knees to make love to his hard cock he held me up. Instead he dropped to his knees, raised my skirt and removed my panties. With the panties removed he went right at my moist womanhood. He licked it and sucked it. He feasted upon my banquet spread. His hand moved excitedly across my clit, more rapidly than he has ever done. I moaned as I was moving up toward a climax. I fought to remain quiet. I had to remain quiet, quieter than I had been since last Spring lest I draw attention of anyone in the hallway.

Just as I was coming toward the summit my husband uncharacteristically stopped. He rose and gave me another urgent kiss upon my lips. I responded with all the passion and love my soul could muster. I wanted that kiss to express my love and how much I will miss him over the coming week. Breaking from the kiss he firmly and quickly he turned me around, pushed me toward the bed several steps away. I was pushed over as he held my hips up. A second later he threw my skirt over my back.

I heard his pants fall to the floor. As I turned my head to look back at my husband's hard love muscle he pushed my head down into the bed. Looking back as he entered my pussy I could only see his shadowed shoulders and masked face. My masked hero spread my lips open. I love the feeling of my pussy lips parting. Seconds later he repeatedly sawed back and forth in my love cannel. His pace quickened. He thrust harder and harder. Somehow it did not seem the same. His pace and touch was different in this fantasy role. My head swirled as the pleasure built within my vessel of love. I was looking forward to cumming again and again. Trying to keep quiet, I was moaning not much above a whisper. As I was starting to move to that moment of great of pleasure he groaned. A split second later I felt his hot manly fluid flooding me.

As I had not yet cum I expected him to keep moving to bring me off too. I was so close. But I was gravely disappointed. Uncharacteristically he pulled out from me. I closed my eyes while gathering my words to express my disappointment and to encourage him to finish me. As I opened my eyes I turned around I saw my masked lover moving out the door. I was shocked. I had not cum. My needs were not fulfilled. He must have known that I had not cum. I was just used by my husband as a depository for his manly desires. There was no goodbye kiss. No thank you. He was not tuned into my needs or the signals my body was sending. The whole experience took less than ten minutes. I was in shock. I wanted to just cry.

It started off as my fantasy but it ended far from a wonderful fantasy ending. While in the washroom cleaning up, the disappointment grew and so did my fury. Exiting the washroom and after straightening out my clothing I immediately sought my husband. I moved through the house looking for Ken. He was nowhere to be found. He had already left for the airport.

I was so agitated that I could not remain at the party. I was home in bed by 10:00. I started to cry over the night's event. Ken had been so insensitive. He ignored my needs. He used me. And I felt used, not loved. It was not mutual animal release. He quickly got his jollies and left me unfulfilled. I had not seen this side of my husband ever before. I did not want to see it again.

This morning I am still angry. When he gets back Ken is going to get an earful. I will make it clear that he is never to be so selfish again. This is a conversation that needs to be face to face, not over the telephone. Unfortunately, that conversation cannot happen until Friday or Saturday. On the upside, the rawness of my anger will have had time to dissipate.

Sunday October 26, 1980

Dear Diary: My world has collapsed. I have been unfaithful to my husband. Woe is me, I have been fucked by a man other than my husband. I am grieved to say that I have become an adulteress.

Early Saturday morning I helped Wendy clean-up from the party. Just after I arrived home at one o'clock with groceries in hand Ken called. He was at a restaurant with the team. He apologized for taking an early afternoon flight Friday to meet with the Midwest VP on another matter.

Hearing he left Friday afternoon I merely replied in a trance like state, "I love you, I love you." Fortunately he had to run as his table was being called. I could not bring myself to say anything else. I immediately fell to the kitchen floor without hanging up the receiver. It hung loosely down the wall as I cried and cried. Who was this masked man? How could I not notice that he was not Ken? There were things that signaled it was not Ken. I disregarded the differences. I allowed myself to be seduced. I went willingly. I cried. I felt dirty and alone.

Late in the afternoon Jan found me still sitting on the floor. Between tears I confessed that I cheated on my loving husband. I told her the whole sad tale. When Jan said I was raped, I shook my head as I went willingly. I wanted him and offered myself to him.

Is this a divine revenge for what I have done? Jan disagreed. But I was inconsolable. Jan made a telephone call. I could not hear all that she was saying. A half-hour later, Ruth arrived to spend the night with me

Ruth silently held me as I wept. There is no way I can go anywhere this morning. I do not know how I am going to deal with this. I do not know what I am going to say to Ken. I feel so ashamed and dirty. I played the roll of a slut and I became one? How could he forgive me? How can I forgive myself?

Thursday October 30, 1980

Dear Diary: I could not bring myself to write these last three days. My mind has been awash with feelings of dread and anger. I taught my lessons without energy or joy. My steps were so heavy Monday and Tuesday that several students asked why I looked so sad. I really should have taken the days off but I needed to do something to distract me from wallowing in my misery.

Ruth is a godsend. She has quietly comforted me. She cooked the meals and repeatedly listened to my self incrimination. She has not judged me, including when I confessed what I happened with Maria and Ken in September. She listened quietly with a sympathetic look.

For whatever reason, Monday after dinner I gave Ruth Louisa's and Ken's letters to read. She was crying when she finished them. I cried with her. I cried for a different reason than Ruth. I cried fearing that I had lost my love.

Ruth cried because of their tender love. When we finished drying our tears, the sun started to again shine in upon my soul. Patiently she affirmed that what happened at the party would not destroy the love expressed in the letters. She repeatedly stated she knew Ken, and if she was right, he would be filled with compassion not anger. It became a note of hope to which I now cling.

Tuesday before I left for the school I gave her my diary. I insisted I needed her to read the diary as I had done a terrible thing. She said she would read it and we would talk further. I think that I gave it to her because in some strange way I was connecting what happened Friday as a type of punishment.

When I entered the house last night I was ready to listen to her condemnation and to being brought back to reality, whatever reality is. I found a different atmosphere. Ruth told me to relax as she finished cooking dinner. I walked outside. I stood by the "Louisa tree" contemplating my future. I was concerned that my marriage was deeply damaged, or even worse, ruined, totally destroyed. If it could be salvaged I would do anything to keep it together. Also, I desired to inflict revenge of some sort upon whoever brought me into this nightmare. I wanted to find him and castrate him.

To say I was a little anxious about my future would have been an understatement. Actually I was extremely anxious about my marriage. After what happened last month you would think I would have a different opinion. What happened then was done openly and willingly by all. I was with my approval. Our vow of faithfulness and trust remained secure. If anything, at the end of the day Ken and my trust and love for each other ended up being deeper.

Friday was the opposite. I had sex with another man without Ken's knowledge and approval. I cheated. I broke our marital vows of trust and openness. How could he trust me again? I had undermined my marriage by my actions. I reasoned that it is that simple.

I was also anxious about what Ruth would think. I knew I lost some respect in the eyes of a woman who has been a powerful influence upon my life. Before her husband passed away she was my minister's wife. Yet if she was going to be my aid, my counselor, she needed to know it all, including the dirt.

Nothing was said over dinner about the diary. As we put the dishes in the dishwasher my heart was prepared when Ruth said, "I read your diary through to your last entry. Let's talk in your quiet sanctuary."

As we made our way into the solarium I braced myself. My bent to avoid conflict caused a flurry of doubts to run through my mind. I reminded myself, I had to do this. Besides it was too late to turn back.

Ruth sat with me on the sofa. "While I am not your judge, I understand all that you did and why. I was brought to tears by the love you expressed in your diary. Megan, you warmed the heart of this old woman. Thank you. I only wish my son-in-law was a man who called forth these feelings from my daughter."

We talked for hours about my marriage, my life and my dreams. Where I expected condemnation, I received understanding and empathy. She shared openly about her marriage. I smiled at her own desires for her husband and the joys they shared. She waxed eloquently about their love. I felt the pain she still feels over loosing him.

I was really surprised by some of her views of sex and relationships. When I expressed surprise at some of her views she quietly said, "When you live in a glass house, you have to be careful what you say and do." We cried over each other's sorrows and laughed at each other joys. This morning I only have deeper respect for her. I am happy I showed her my diary.

I know I cannot hide what happened from Ken. He needs to be told as soon as possible. Ruth agreed that the sooner the better. If I did not tell him, then I do not trust him. By not being honest with him I would be saying that I cannot rely upon his love as much as I claim. Ruth also noted that as long as I hold what happened back from Ken I am actually turning what happened into an affair. We agreed that I could also be opening myself up to being blackmailed. Ken needed to be told as soon as possible.

We talked about Ken and his character. Ruth expressed her gratitude for how he has been like a second father to her two grandchildren. By the end of the evening I felt much like my old self. I felt encouraged. There is hope but with a cloud of doubt in the background.

Before I retired for the evening Ruth asked if I trusted her. Of course I affirmed. She smiled, "good, then I will help you plan on how to tell Ken and flame his heart for you in the process."

Friday October 31, 1980

Dear Diary: I have almost returned to my old self. Yesterday at school I smiled and laughed more freely. Erin was moody all day. While hidden by mascara I noticed Erin had a bruised left cheek. She really should leave that abusive animal so called fiancée. She asked if I could meet her for lunch Sunday. We will meet at "The Garden" at one.