My Wild Wife

"Hey, it's Rick. You know I hate to be called Fred."

He did hate Fred. He felt it made him sound weak. My attitude was that Fred suited him and yes he was weak. In fact, he was very weak. I had walked all over him when we were together. He had only one asset of value to a woman like me, and that was between his legs.

"Same question, whatever name you use. Why are you calling me?"

"I want to see you, as I said last time I called. I'm in town, we need to get together."

"Like last time, the answer is NO. I'm married."

"So bring him along or better still invite me over so we can meet."

"NO to that, but I guess lunch for old time sake will not hurt. Friday 11:00 a.m. at County-Line by the University."

Fred or Rick, as he liked to be called, was part of my past. It had been an exciting past and one I would love to continue but not at the cost of what I had. I was an adult with adult responsibilities. I had a husband and soon with God's help children to care for. I had a good career and a chance to be a published novelist. I was living the dream and had no wish to descend into a nightmare.

County-Line is an unusually shaped place. A long virtual windowless box that ends in a wall of glass at the far end which then opens to an elaborate outside serving deck. Sit at the street end and you are hidden from view while in plain sight. You are highly unlikely to be seen because everyone looks the other way but if you were spotted you would not seem to have been hiding.

I had chosen the place when that idiot Fred first called knowing that sooner or later I would have to meet him. My concern at the moment was not to complicate the difficult situation that had developed with Matt. I always went grocery shopping on Friday. Matt made the list, and I did the week's shopping. I would just take a little longer that day.

Matt continued in his funk Wednesday. We had no sex Tuesday, but that was not unusual. My good girl image and my problem required that I keep my interest in sex to a minimum. I let him initiate it and usually turned him down every other time. I could not go too far with my husband without risking my self-control.

I needed him to need me and desire me but I had to hold back for fear of where too much sex might lead. I know that seems self-centered, but my therapist had advised me how difficult my addiction could be. I had been seeing her almost from the day I married Matt. He knew about her, but not that it was the fear of losing him that had driven me to seek help.

On the one hand, I felt sure and confident in my marriage but something inside kept telling me that unless I was careful I would not keep my husband. My therapist urged me to come clean with my spouse, but I could not bring myself to that point. After all, Matt would never know. I would never show him that wild side of my sexuality, and by keeping it in check I avoided losing control.

My immediate problem was the possible infidelity of my husband. I was at my wits end. I had convinced myself that it was a single one-time thing. It had to be. The alternative was both unthinkable and unacceptable. Moreover, whatever he had done, I had to know. By Thursday, I decided that I would confront him with it Friday evening.

I would take my husband out to dinner at his favorite restaurant and get him loose on wine. Poor Matt didn't hold his wine well. Later in bed, I would corner him and make him think I knew more than I did. Hopefully, he would confess some minor indiscretion that we could easily put behind us.

Thursday we spent looking at houses. Matt had a list of prospects, and I had several additions that I thought we should see. Eventually, we worked the list down to the one Matt liked. It was a beautiful little starter home, but as I walked through the door, I was greeted by this little blond tramp.

The realtor was the kind of woman that I had striven so hard not to be. They say it takes one to know one. Well, I knew her type at first sight. But there was a big surprise coming. When she saw Matt she blushed. For his part, he could not bring himself to look at her. Even worse he became nervous, and you might almost say cool toward me.

As we toured the house, I could see it was perfect for us. All my husband said was how bad the furnace was and how much of a problem that would be. I knew that he did not really believe this and had already priced a replacement. He was deliberately being misleading to lower the price. We had agreed on this strategy, but all I could think of was - Is he lying to me as well?

The more we toured the house, the angrier I got. I defy any woman not to be upset and jealous in that situation. There was obviously something between my husband and the little blond tramp. My mind went to the obvious place. Was I being unfair? Yes, very definitely so. It was something that I would later regret and see as absurdly foolish. But as my mother often warned it is harder for a pretty woman to avoid vanity and jealousy than a plain one.

My mind went to a place I should have known my husband would never go. By the end of the house tour the tramp was saying how flexible the asking price was, but I was no longer listening. For his part, Matt was now giving me a confused look.

Too late, I thought as I stormed to our Toyota, a very bland car for a boring couple who until a few minutes ago held the promise of a lifetime of love between them. I didn't know in my heart whether I could forgive him. It wasn't just the infidelity. I was living my life on the edge, one day at a time. I was in a constant battle to maintain that fidelity that seemed to be built into most women.

It wasn't that I loved sex. It was a physical craving that was near irresistible. I knew my husband, like every man, wanted sex. To a certain extent he needed sex, but it was only ordinary desire in his case. He could easily resist. Yet, he had been with that real estate bimbo, and I was sure as I drove us homeward that he did not resist for a heartbeat.

Fortunately, it was a day when the Interstate traffic was plagued by a minor accident that the New York State Police turned into a traffic jam. It seemed that the State Police's primary function was causing traffic chaos and hazards.

The traffic jam worked in my favor allowing me time to regain some control. When I pulled into the driveway of the condo, I had cooled down considerably. Matt was hunched against the passenger door looking blankly out the window. We had not spoken since the drive home began.

"Ok, I have calmed down. You want to tell be about what happened between you and the real estate agent," I said.

Of all the reactions I expected, the fury that he turned on me was never a consideration.

"Nothing, BUT the same can't be said for your boyfriend."

"Are you out of your mind? What boyfriend?"

"Rick, Fred or whatever you are calling him," Matt said storming from the car toward the house.

"OH MY GOD," I'm not sure whether I said it out loud as I watched my husband walk away.

It was one of those moments when you see your life slipping away like the tide going out on a steep beach. Things had seemed to be going so well and then you see it is all racing away from you. The black eyed jack had fallen. I could see it as clearly as a bright summer's day.

Put Fred in a room with the little blond tart and only one result was possible. If Matt was there he would have seen it, but what was Fred doing there. It came to me with a rush, looking for a house just as we were. Fred meets Matt, and something was said. But what the fuck did Fred say?

I framed my apology. The words were sincere and utterly contrite. They should be. I had accused an innocent man. His only sin was hiding from me what he now knew I had hidden from him. I never got the chance to deliver that apology. He had gone out the back door of our condo.

Just beyond the developed strip of the condo the New York Central tracks ran and beyond them the river. It was not an easy walk, but the view across the river was worth it. I knew he would be back, so I settled in to wait. I tried calling that idiot Fredrick but to no avail.

I was desperate to know how much my former lover had said and therefore, what I would need to explain. I waited and waited. It turned dark. I opened a bottle of wine as my fears increased. At some point, I must have fallen asleep. I awoke to a dark house. Someone had turned off the lights.

In our bedroom, I found Matt asleep. I feared to wake him, so I set myself up on the couch. I was up early and dressed before Matt got up. I grabbed the grocery list that was only part complete and headed out. I intended to get the shopping done early and then confront Fred.

I arrived at the restaurant that I had selected a few days earlier. Fred was already there waiting at the bar. I walked right passed him waving toward the near dead space at the bar's street end. He followed as I chose the least visible of the tables.

He went to hug me as I was taking my seat but I pushed him away. He gave me a hurt look.

'Gee Jess, I thought we were at least friends,"

"Friends don't rat friends out," I hissed.

"Huh!"

"What shit have you been telling my husband."

"Are you losing it? I've never seen or spoken to your husband."

"No. Well, how about a little blond tramp of a real estate agent."

"Oh."

"Coming back is it?'

"Your husband, he's kind of a big nerdy guy?"

"Name of Matt, does it ring a bell?"

"Shit...Well, how was I to know?"

"And for the next question, WHAT THE FUCK, did you tell him?" I demanded.

"Oh—Oh, let me think. We had lunch. He talked about his wife, and I said..." He had this look that said it was bad.

"Maybe I said you were..." he stopped mid-sentence.

"How BAD. None of your usual bullshit," I had a sick feeling rising in my stomach.

"I may have—you know mentioned threesomes and that three-day weekend. You know when you had that contest."

It was fortunate that I had not eaten anything that day because it would not have stayed down. It had been at the very end of our relationship. We campus sluts had a challenge going to see who could do the most guys in a weekend. It was the kind of dangerous, sick thing that only a reckless young woman with no self-restraint would do. Starting Friday night and ending Monday evening I had taken on all comers with only some breaks for eating, sleeping and the human necessities.

I can't remember the final score. I was well out of it by the end, but it was generally agreed that I beat the other two hoes by a long ten yards. It was the end of Rick and me. For my part I woke up to just how far down I had let myself go. Let me be honest here. I was sore, tired, and more than a little used up. However, I loved it, and I knew that if I let myself I would do it again.

My big weekend finished Rick and me. I had lost all respect for him. I could tell what I had done had humiliated him. People were laughing and looking down on him, but he had been too weak to keep me from starting or to stop me once it had begun. He actually repeated his request that I marry him.

I could still recall laughing and asking him what would he do if we were married. Would he permit me to have a long sex filled weekend, fucking other men? I remember his answer.

"Whatever you want baby. You know it turns me on." Fred was embarrassed even as he said this, but it was the stone cold truth.

I guess he must have thought we were perfectly suited. He was a stud who enjoyed watching his woman fuck other men, and I was a sex crazed slut. We were two totally depraved individuals who belonged together. Only, I wanted out, and I was willing to go cold turkey if necessary.

My life, after I left Fred, was one long struggle for chastity. Until I married Matt, I lived a moral life. I knew if I fell off the wagon that I would go straight down again. Marriage didn't help, in some ways total abstinence was better. Sex with Matt was loving and different, but I was always risking that loss of control. I also was involved in hiding my profligate past. That meant no wild sex bouts with Matt. I knew he wanted more, but I dared not risk the slut winning back control.

"I'm sorry, Jess. I swear I had no idea who he was," Rick pleaded bringing me back to my current problem.

"Ok, should I assume he knows everything?" I said.

When he didn't answer, I started to get up just as the waitress appeared. County-Line was renowned for its slow service. Just as well since the last thing I needed was food or drink.

"Please don't go," he begged as the waitress looked on.

"Sorry, but I need to see if there is anything left of my marriage. Please don't call me again."

Margret had been my therapist, counselor, and confidant since my marriage to Matt. If anyone could help me, I thought she could. A frantic call got me an appointment. I knew she was shifting things to get me in, but I needed her.

"So, he knows," she began.

"Yes, what do I do now?"

"Well, remember that this is your biggest problem, one we have long discussed. There was the idea that you sit down with your husband and tell him the whole unvarnished truth," she said.

She did not say I told you sooner or later you would have to, but I knew what her opinion was. Still, she was right. The time had come for the truth.

"I just don't know what to say."

"Just what you have told me. Tell him what happened and how it happened. That it started and you could not stop until you hit bottom. When you did, you put yourself back on the right path.

"You know your story is one of courage and fortitude. I admire you for facing the problem and taking control. From all our time together, I know you love your husband, and he loves you," as she said this she took both of my hands in hers, "Trust in that love being stronger than the mistakes you made in the past, but remember the absolute truth."

"I don't know that I can do that," I said.

"Yes, you can. Tell him the whole truth. He will have questions. Hold nothing back and he will believe you. He's a good man, and he loves you. He has a good wife who made mistakes but took her life back. He does not want to lose what you two have."

Margret could always pump me up. I wished I had taken her advice sooner.

When I arrived home, Matt was waiting for me. I could tell he had been crying, but his tears were dry now. He was waiting for me in a somber mood. I went straight to the kitchen when I arrived. I busied myself putting the groceries away.

"You were gone a long time," he said entering the kitchen.

"Yes, I had people to see," I replied.

"Oh, Who?"

"Fredrick for one. To tell him I have never been unfaithful to my husband and with God's help never will," I said as I turned to look Matt firmly in the eyes.

"I'm to believe that when you lied to me so completely?" he asked.

This was an encouraging sign. I could hear in his voice that he wanted to believe me.

"Go sit down in the living room. I'm going to make each of us a stiff gin and tonic. I have a story to tell you that is not pleasant," I said.

Matt hesitated and then nodded as he turned and went to sit down on the couch. My heart leapt, he was going to hear me out. I fixed the drinks and brought them into our living room. I sat down and handed him his drink.

"I want to propose a toast to our love," I said.

"Ok, I'll drink to the love we had."

We drank. I could see that he drank deeply. I had made the drinks strong and hoped it would help as I started my story.

I talked a long time, and I refilled our drinks without objection. He listened without saying a word.

_______________________________________

Matt

Jess told her story as she sat next to me on the couch. I remembered when we purchased that piece of furniture. We looked for a month. Jess had to have just the right piece. We christened it with sex the first evening. I remembered that as she told me of her pre-marriage sexual experiences.

If I had been shocked by Rick's description of my wife's college days, I was appalled by what she now was saying. She held nothing back. She gave things no spin, and she was anything but kind to herself. I sat on our beloved couch like a spectator at a car accident. I was appalled but unable to look away.

"So, you must have questions," she concluded.

I sat in stunned silence.

"Please talk to me," she said.

"So Rick led you into this?"

"No he opened the door a crack, but it was me who kicked it all the way open and charged in. It is unfair to blame him for the things, I did."

"Why then did you leave him? He asked you to marry him."

"Fair question but I know it is more why you and not Fred. Well, I don't love or respect Fredrick. I love and want you. And let me be clear, I have never cheated on you. Never."

"But you want to. Isn't that the truth?" I said.

"I won't lie, every day is a struggle, but with your help, your love, I can stay faithful."

I was silent. I was desperately trying to take it all in. Did I believe her? Yes, because no one seeking to deceive would have been so open about their past. But what should I do?

She must have seen my hesitation, "Baby, I know I'm asking a lot. I want you to place your trust in a person who is a very bad risk. But, please love me enough to take the risk," as she spoke the tears began to stain her cheeks.

Maybe I'm a fool, but there is no way I could not take her in my arms and whisper, "It will be alright, you will see."

That night we went to bed cuddled together. Was I worried about the future? Of course, I was, but as Leo Buscaglia said,

"The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing. He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love. Chained by his certitude, he is a slave; he has forfeited his freedom. Only the person who risks is truly free."

I had never before realized the truth of that statement. I had played the high-risk game of day trading, but with an edge. I used my math skills and my ability to research in a dogged pursuit of the slightest advantage. I had risked only money and very little of that. If I lost, there was always tomorrow and always another trade.

Now I risked my heart. Everything I am and all that I hope to be, all my dreams. The only thing I knew for sure was that my Jess was worth it. If any woman was worth the risk, she was.

______________________________

Jess

We made each other commitments that night. My husband stretched out his arms and enfolded me. If I had known love before it was a pale shadow of what enveloped me that night. There was no sex. I was getting my monthly friend. Not that it mattered to me. I'm one of those women who only becomes more aroused during her monthly flow. But that night was a time to hold each other and make promises.

I swore never to hold anything back again, and my husband promised to love me no matter what. We mutually agreed on the house that the little blond realtor was showing and decided not to wait for the closing to work on starting a family.

So it was that six weeks later, I looked down at the second of the test sticks. This like the last had a little blue plus sign. I was going to be a mommy. My wild days were truly over or so I hoped.