The next morning I was up at 6:00. I was anxious to see if Ruth and Jeanne had responded to my email. Ruth and Jeanne were in the central time zone. I was in the Pacific zone. At home it was 8:00 AM. Ruth would just be getting to work.

The previous day, I'd sent my email at 4:00 PM Pacific time. By then Ruth had probably already gone home for the day. This morning she would most likely tend to the firm's business before she'd read my email. She was a good employee. Jeanne was also dedicated to the law firm that employed her. She would certainly take care of her employer's business before she took the time to address her personal concerns.

Realizing that it was unlikely that I'd hear from Ruth before noon, I took a shower, dressed and went out for breakfast. After breakfast I took a stroll through Lincoln Park.

By the time I got back to my motel room, it was 12:30. I turned on my computer. There was an email from Ruth. Barely able to contain my excitement I opened it.

Michael,

Jeanne called me few minutes ago. She just read your email. You made her very happy.

Michael, she wants to talk to you. I think you should let her. This is a complicated situation. It's too complicated for emails, especially emails that I'm passing along to each of you. Right now, you're trying to maintain some distance from Jeanne and I understand why, but if you talk to her this one time I believe that she'll respect your desire to be left alone and not badger you with additional telephone calls.

She's waiting to hear from me. If you refuse to talk to her she'll send me an email and I'll forward it to you. I hope you don't make her do that. I think you've both reached a point where you need to talk directly to each other.

Please let me know what you want to do.

Ruth

I sat back and considered Ruth's suggestion. I had to agree with her. Jeanne and I had reached a point where we needed to talk. Still, I was concerned. For my plan to work, Jeanne and I had to maintain some distance. I missed her and I was quite certain that she missed me. It would be easy to slip into a routine of talking to each other every night.

And then it came to me. It was really quite simple. I typed an email to Ruth.

Ruth

You're right, Jeanne and I do need to talk. I've thought of a way we can do it and still preserve the distance I feel we need at this time. She can call my motel room phone.

When you talk to Jeanne, suggest that she wait until she gets home to make the call. I suspect it will turn out to be a long call. She'll want to be comfortable and in a place where she won't be disturbed.

If Jeanne has plans after work today, tell her that we can always talk tomorrow or any evening when she's free. If that does turn out to be the case, let me know so I won't be waiting for her call.

Please remind her that it doesn't matter how late she calls. It's two hours earlier here.

Once again thank you for acting as our intermediary.

Michael

I then added the name of the motel where I was staying, my room number and the motel's telephone number.

After sending the email, I glanced at my wrist watch. It was just after 1:00. Needing to kill time, I went for another walk. It was 2:00 when I returned to my motel room. I immediately checked my email. There was a reply from Ruth. I anxiously opened it.

Michael,

Thank you; when I read your email to Jeanne she actually screamed with delight. I hope she didn't disturb her bosses. Those attorneys she works for pay her very well, but they're an uptight bunch.

Jeanne will call you as soon as she gets home today. She thought it would be around 6:00. That would make it 4:00 on the west coast.

Michael, I believe you're doing the right thing. Try to listen to Jeanne and understand. I urged her to do the same thing.

Ruth

Now nervous with anticipation, I stood up and began pacing around my motel room. It was going to happen. I was going to talk to Jeanne.

I had two hours to kill. The wait was going to be unbearable. I'd already taken two walks, I couldn't tolerate another one and I knew that a walk wouldn't be an adequate distraction. Reading and watching television wouldn't work either. I tried playing solitaire on my computer. I immediately lost interest in the game.

Finally, out of desperation I watched a Julia Ann movie on my computer. As I watched the movie, I imagined that it was Jeanne and her latest date. While it did help pass the time, it had an added benefit. I wanted Jeanne to know that I was trying hard to learn to accept and even enjoy her new lifestyle. Having a little sexual edge would help with that.

The movie featured Julia Ann and a man in his mid to late twenties. They were playing on a couch in a living room. As I watched Julia Ann suck her costar's cock I imagined sitting in our den watching a baseball game while Jeanne was in the living room with her date sucking his cock. I had to admit that the image excited me.

At five minutes to four I turned off the movie. I didn't want to be distracted while I talked with Jeanne. After shutting my computer down I sat next to the telephone and waited.

Four o'clock arrived. In the central time zone it was six o'clock. The telephone didn't ring. I continued to wait. The time dragged by.

Fifteen minutes later Jeanne still hadn't called. I assumed that she'd been delayed by traffic. I continued to wait.

At 6:30 I stood up and started pacing the room. I kept telling myself that Jeanne had most likely been delayed by traffic or her job. Occasionally at the end of a workday, one of the attorneys would need to have several documents prepared. When that happened, Jeanne had to stay until everything was finished. Still the icy fingers of doubt and fear began to insinuate their way into my thoughts. Was it possible that Jeanne's latest date had called at the last minute and invited her to stop for an after work cocktail?

As I was considering the likelihood of that occurrence, the telephone rang. It was 6:40. My fears and doubts vanished. Grinning, I answered the telephone.

"Hello."

"Michael?"

"Jeanne?"

"Yes, it's me."

"It's me, too."

Jeanne giggled. "I guess we've figured out that it's us."

I laughed. "Yeah, we'll be stars at the old people's home."

There was a moment of silence and then Jeanne said, "I hope we'll be there together."

"I do too, Jeanne."

"Do you, Michael? Even after all the stupid things I've done."

"Yes, Jeanne, I do. I'm glad you called."

"Thank you for allowing me to call. I'm sorry I'm late. Carl Boyer needed a contract typed. It had to be done today."

"I thought that was probably what happened. Don't worry, I understand."

"Thank you."

"Would you like to talk?"

"Yes, very much."

There was a brief pause and then Jeanne said. "Michael, I'm so sorry about the way I handled all of this. I really was stupid."

"Jeanne, during the course of our marriage we've both made mistakes."

"That's true, but you’ve never made a mistake of the magnitude of the one I just made."

"While I'll concede that, it's been done and there's nothing we can do about it. I'm choosing to forget that it happened and try to move on."

"Are you coming home?"

"No, Jeanne, I'm not."

"Why not? In your email it sounded like you were actually encouraging me to continue dating. You said that it was okay for me to entertain men in our house. You offered to give me money to turn Tricia's room into a play room."

"Yes, that was exactly what I said and I am trying to accept what you're doing. I'm even trying to get to a point where I enjoy what you're doing, but I'm not there yet. I need more time."

"I see." The disappointment in Jeanne's voice was evident.

"Jeanne, I'm going to ask you to do something for me."

"Yes, of course; anything, anything at all."

"If we're eventually going to be able to work this out, we have to be totally honest with each other. Can you do that?'

"Of course I can."

"You can't hold anything back."

"Michael, where are you going with this?" Suddenly there was a tone of wariness in Jeanne's voice.

"Promise me, Jeanne."

"Why, Michael? What are you going to ask me?"

"Anything and everything."

"Why? I thought you forgave me."

"I did. Now I'm trying to figure out a way for both of us to be happy."

"We can be happy, Michael. I'll stop dating. I've gotten it out of my system. I don't need to do it anymore. As soon as you come home, I'll show you how much I love you."

"It's not that easy, Jeanne. When you started this, you opened a box. Whether it's a Pandora’s box filled with pain and recrimination or a gift box filled with joy and excitement remains to be seen. What I do know is now that you've opened the box we have to confront it."

"No, Michael, it will be just like it used to be only better. I've learned to love sex. I promise I'll make you the happiest man in the world."

"I wish it was that easy, I really do, but it's not. Now it's a matter of trust. Every time you're late coming home from work, every time you go out with the girls, every time I have to go out of town for business, I'll worry that you're meeting a man for sex."

"No, Michael, you can trust me."

"Can I? Haven't you reveled in the freedom you've had during the past three months? You've dated a number of men and enjoyed them all. Won't that be hard to give up?"

"Michael, I..."

"No, Jeanne, you don't have to tell me the answers. These questions are for you. Think about it; can I really trust you? That Saturday I caught you with Derek Fischer in our bed, you told me that you weren't planning to have sex with him. You made the mistake of letting him kiss you and you melted."

Jeanne sighed.

I pressed. "Can you honestly promise me that it won't occur again? It might happen like this. You'll go out with the other secretaries in your building for a drink after work. You enjoy doing that. One of your old dates will be in the bar. It will be an accident. Neither of you knew the other one would be there. You liked him. You'll talk. You'll have an extra drink. You'll dance a couple of dances. After you're finished dancing you won't return to the table of secretaries, you'll go to a table of your own. After all, he was a friend. You'll want to talk."

Jeanne didn't attempt to refute what I was saying, she just listened.

"He'll lead you to a secluded booth in a dark corner of the bar. When you sit down, you'll sit on the same side of the booth. You'll cuddle up to him. You'll feel guilty, but he's a big man. His arms are so comfortable. You'll talk. You'll flirt. It will feel good to flirt again. He'll kiss you. You'll kiss him back. While you're kissing him, he'll cup your breast. You'll know that you should stop him, but you won't want to stop him. Instead you'll let your hand brush across his erect penis."

"Please, Micheal, don't."

"Jeanne I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to explain." I paused. After a moment I asked, "Can you promise me that a situation like that will never occur?"

Jeanne whispered, "You know I can't."

"So every time you go out without me, I'll have to worry."

"Michael, what are we going to do? I love you. I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you too, Jeanne."

"But you can't trust me."

"Trust is only an issue if I'm asking you to do things you can't do."

"I don't understand."

"Maybe we can find a way for us to be together that allows you to continue dating other men."

"Michael, you're confusing me. In your email you suggested that you were maybe willing to accept my dating, but then you started talking about trust... Michael, I'm so sorry I started all of this."

"I'm not."

"Michael, be serious."

"I mean it, I'm not sorry this happened. In fact, I think it had to happen. You were ready for it to happen. You needed it to happen. Yes, I do wish you had included me in the process that led you to this, but you didn't and now that's history."

"I really am sorry about that."

"Don't worry, I understand. It was something that happened gradually for you."

"It was. It started when the girls began telling me about they're dates when they were in college."

"They were sexually active."

"Very."

"And you envied them."

"Not at first. At first I was shocked. I tried to talk to them, but my attempts to talk quickly degenerated into lectures. I spouted the same puritanical nonsense that had been drilled into me when I was a young girl. The lectures quickly turned into arguments. Gradually the arguments turned into debates and I started to lose the debates. Eventually we just talked, and then the girls started to teach me."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"The girls asked me not to."

"Why? I'm their father."

"That's exactly why. It's difficult for girls to talk about sex with their father."

"If you'd told me, we might have been able to go through this together. We might not be where we are now. It's not good for a husband and wife to keep secrets from each other.

"I know."

"It's okay." I paused for a moment and then I said, "We keep getting sucked into talking about the past. We can't change the past. All we can do is try to influence what happens in the future."

"I need you to forgive me."

"You're already forgiven."

"You've forgiven me for being stupid, but you haven't forgiven me for being a prude."

"I don't understand."

"Michael, for twenty-seven years I was a cold fish in bed. The few times I gave you a blow job, I did it so grudgingly that it couldn't have been very much fun for you. I didn't enjoy sex. It had nothing to do with you. I've learned that you've always been a wonderful, caring lover. I was just too inhibited to enjoy what you were trying to do."

Jeanne paused. After a moment, she said, "And now I'm eagerly doing things for men I barely know that I refused to do for you. You're the man I love. Michael, I feel awful about that. And now you're gone, so I can't even try to make it up to you."

"It's okay, I think I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes, a woman gave me a pretty good explanation about why that happens."

"A woman? Do I know her?"

"No, I met her in a bar the night before that ill fated Saturday."

"You met her in a bar? Did you sleep with..." Jeanne stopped herself in mid sentence. "Listen to me. Isn't that the height of hypocrisy."

"It's okay, we're both getting used to a new life style and no I didn't sleep with her. Her name is Jennifer Rawlins. Would you like to hear what she told me?"

"Yes, please."

I told Jeanne the details of my conversation with Jennifer Rawlins.

When I was finished Jeanne said, "That's a pretty good explanation. It clarifies something for me."

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you, but you have to promise you won't get mad."

"We have to be totally honest with each other, Jeanne. That means that we also have to try to hear the truth without getting angry. I'll do my best."

"Okay, when I went out with Derek I was still too ashamed to reveal my new sexual desires to you, but with him it was easy. Until now I haven't been able to understand why. I didn't even really like Derek. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"You're telling me that he was a convenient practice partner."

"That's exactly what he was."

"It's hard to free ourselves from the cultural restraints that were ingrained in us while we were growing up, isn't it?"

"Yes, Michael, it really is."

"Right now I'm struggling with that same demon."

"You are? How?"

"In our culture real men don't share their wives with other men."

Jeanne was silent. After a moment she said, "I'm sorry, Michael. I never really thought about how this was affecting you. I assumed that your only problem was overcoming petty jealousy. There's a much bigger issue, isn't there."

"Yes, Jeanne, there is."

"In its own way, it's every bit as inhibiting as the prudish restraints that are pounded into women as they grow up. How are you doing with it?"

"It's a struggle, but I'm working at it. I'm making some progress. We're having this conversation."

"Yes, we are. You are making progress. I've always known that you're a very special man, but I'm just beginning to realize how special you really are."

There was more silence. Both of us realized that because this was a battle I was currently fighting, conversation about it would be tense and potentially volatile.

Artfully changing the subject, Jeanne said, "Tell me more about the cocktail lounge where you met this Rawlins woman."

"Jeanne, are you jealous?"

"Michael, I just..." Jeanne paused for a moment and then she said, "Yes, I suppose I am."

"As you mentioned earlier, that's a little hypocritical of you, isn't it."

"Yes, Michael, it is, but there's a difference for men and women."

"Go on."

"There aren't many men who would view me as marriage material."

"Why?"

"I'm too old for most younger men."

"What about all that MILF stuff?"

"Michael, MILF means mothers I'd like to fuck, not mothers I'd like to marry."

"Okay, what about older men?"

"Older men, especially older men with money are looking for younger women."

"Trophy wives."

"That's right."

"I don't believe all older men are looking for trophy wives. There have to be some older men who are just looking for a good mate."

"There are, but those men aren't interested in me, at least not as a wife."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a slut."

"That's a harsh label."

"Thank you, but I don't agree. In fact, I kind of like it. Define slut."

Understanding where Jeanne was going, I laughed and said, "It's a woman who freely enjoys sex with a variety of partners."

"Michael, I'm sorry if this upsets you, but at this point in my life that's exactly what I want to be."

"That's the first time you've actually admitted that to me."

There was a moment of silence and then Jeanne said, "That may be the first time I've actually admitted it to myself. I've been trying to convince myself that this is just a brief adventure, but I know it's not. I'm sorry, Michael, but I enjoy being a slut."

"I'm glad you're finally admitting it. Now we have to figure out a way for both of us to live with that reality. That's the heart of our problem."

"Yes it is. Michael, I'm so sorry. I wish..."

"Jeanne, you don't need to apologize. It's your life. You get to decide what you want to do with it. I love you. If this is what you want, then I'm going to encourage you to do it. When we're old I don't want you to feel like you missed something."

"But what about you, Michael? This affects you too."

"Yes it does, and I'll eventually have to make decisions about my own life. I do know that I would prefer to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether or not I can find a way to do that remains to be seen. Please believe me when I tell you that I intend to try very hard.

"Thank you, Michael; please believe me, I want that every bit as much as you do."

"Okay, back to the question we were discussing. You're a slut, why does that make you less appealing as a wife?" As soon as I said it I understood.

Jeanne said, "Because..."

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt you, but I think I just got it."

"You've always been a bright man. Tell me what you're thinking."

"They're confronted by the same problem that's vexing me."

"That's right, they know I won't be faithful to them. They don't want to take on the baggage of a philandering wife."

I started laughing.

Jeanne asked, "What's so funny?"

"You just shattered one of my two greatest fears."

"Explain."

"I was afraid that you might fall in love with one of your boyfriends and decide to marry him."

"But now you understand just how unlikely that is."

"Yes."

"Michael, I can't imagine ever developing an emotional attachment to another man that's stronger than the one I have with you, but if it ever does happen, please understand that it could only be a temporary infatuation."

"It would still hurt."

"You do understand that it's much more likely to occur with you."

"You're talking about women throwing themselves at me."

"Women who are looking for a husband. You are fabulous husband material."

"I'm married."

"You are, but I'm not making any effort to hide my new life style."

"You're telling me that people are going to talk."

"I'm sorry, Michael, I really am; but they already are."

"Yes, I'm sure the neighbors see the men coming to our house."

"Baby, I'm sorry. This is the life I want to lead and..."

"No, it's okay. This is why I have to stay away. This is part of my journey. I either have to learn to live with your new life style or I have to..."

"Michael, that's why women are going to be throwing themselves at you. They'll see you as vulnerable."

"Jeanne, if we do end up separating, I promise you that I'll never marry another woman."

"When I make that same promise to you, you don't believe me. Why should I believe you?"

"And this is why I have to be gone for an entire year. We need time to reestablish just how important we are to each other."

"But during that time, you could fall in love with another woman, divorce me and marry her."

"And while I'm gone, you could decide that I'm an unnecessary burden that keeps you from fully enjoying life as a free loving libertine."

"No, Michael, I need you. You'll never be a burden to me."

"And I'll never fall in love with another woman."

"Michael, what are we going to do?"

"We're going to start working on building our new relationship."

"How are we going to do that? You're gone."

"You have to start living the life you really want to live. If you want to be a slut, then you need to be a slut. You can't hold back."

"Won't that make things worse?"

"No, it won't. It's the only way this can work. Jeanne, I've thought about it. The only thing wrong with what you're doing is that it violates the accepted moral conventions of our culture. You've decided that those moral conventions aren't valid. Any compromises you make in the life you want to lead are compromises to beliefs that you've rejected. I fear those compromises could eventually cause you to feel dissatisfied. Even worse, if you view me as the cause of those compromises it might eventually lead you to feel resentment and even anger towards me.

Jeanne, I believe that it's absolutely essential that you fully embrace your new life style."

"Michael, I don't want to hurt you."

"You'll only hurt me if you stop loving me."

"I'll never do that."

"My job is to find a way to be confident of that. That means that I have to do what you did. I have to overcome the beliefs about sex and love that were instilled in me while I was growing up."

"Can you do that?"

"I'm going to try. It will help if you spend some time reassuring me that you still love me."

"How can I do that? You're gone. I don't get to see you. I don't get to talk to you. I don't even get to send you direct emails."

"We'll change that. I'll buy a second cell phone. That will also allow you to contact me if there's an emergency. I'll get a second email address too. It will be for just you and me."

"Thank you, not being able to talk to you has been so difficult."

"Jeanne, we're still going to have to limit our communication."

"Why?"

"We've been together for a long time. We take each other for granted. You need to experience life without me and I need to experience life without you. We have to find out if we really do need each other."

"But I do need you. I can't bear the thought of living without you."

"Jeanne, there are now going to be a number of other men in your life. I fear that you may eventually discover that you don't need me as much as you thought you did."

"No, Michael, I'll always need you."

"The only way we can be certain of that is if you experience life without me. Jeanne, when I come home, I want to be confident that there will always be a place for me in your life."

"Michael, there always will be a place for you in my life."

"How can you be sure of that, Jeanne?"

Jeanne was silent. After a moment she said, "Okay, you're telling me that you want me to live like I was a single woman."

"Yes, that would be one way to look at it."

"I guess I can do that."

"There's more."

"Okay, tell me."

"When you find a man you enjoy, I want you to try dating him on regular basis."

"Michael, are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No, Jeanne, I'm not. What I'm trying to do is use the time we're apart to address some of the problems that are likely to occur after I return. I suspect that eventually you will find men that you enjoy both sexually and socially and you're going to want to see them regularly. That's going to be hard for me. I'm going to need some opportunities to get used to it."

Jeanne sighed. "You're right, I've already met a guy I like. He's called me a couple of times. I haven't returned his phone calls. Out of concern for your feelings, I've been trying to limit my dates to one night stands."

"Remember what I said earlier. If this is going to work, you're going to have to fully embrace your life as a slut. You also told me that if you do fall for a guy it will only be a temporary infatuation and you assured me that the men you date aren't looking for a wife. If this is going to work I have to be confident that all of that is true."

"Okay, I'll call him."

"What's his name?"

"Why do you need to know that?"

"If this is going to work, we need total honesty. You can't hold anything back. We can't keep secrets from each other."

"I understand what you're saying, but won't this make it harder for you?"

"Maybe at first, but once I get used to it I think it will make it easier."

"All right, his name is Trent Peters. I met him at The Goldenrod Supper Club. I occasionally go there with some of the other secretaries in the building."

"I remember."

"He was there having a drink with a friend. I noticed him right away. He's very handsome." Jeanne paused for a moment and then she said, "I'm sorry Michael, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, Jeanne, I'm glad you told me that. I have to get used to the idea that you're dating good looking men."

"I caught him looking at me several times. I started smiling at him. I decided that I wanted to meet him. I told the other women what was happening. They know you're gone and they know that while you're gone I'm dating other men. I haven't explained why you're gone and they've been discreet enough not to ask. I'm certain they assume that we're having marital problems and for the time being I'm content to let them believe that."

"That makes sense to me."

"The women agreed that he was cute and encouraged me to go for it. I think they're all a little envious of me."

"I'm sure they are."

"I left to go to the ladies room. When I returned, I looked directly at him. When he noticed me looking at him I gave him a wink. He smiled and winked back, so I sat down at an empty table and gave him a little head nod. It was an invitation to join me. He said something to his friend and then he picked up his drink, walked over to my table and introduced himself. I invited him to sit down and we started flirting."

"You enjoy flirting, don't you."

"Yes, I really do."

"Did you tell him you were married?"

"I didn't have to, he already knew. I always wear my wedding ring, even when I go out looking for men. The men I'm seeking won't be discouraged by a wedding ring. In fact, if I'm sending the right signals it will encourage them."

"That makes sense."

"He did ask me about the ring. I confirmed that I was married but added that I occasionally enjoyed a little fun on the side. He told me that he was married too and also occasionally enjoyed a little extra fun." Concerned about how I was doing, Jeanne paused and asked, "Michael, are you all right?"

I reassured her. "I'm just fine, Jeanne."

"Do you want to hear more?"

"Yes, this is exactly what I need to hear."

"Are you mad?"

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine. If I start to get upset I'll warn you before it gets out of hand."

"Okay."

"He told you that he was married."

"Yes."

"What happened next?"

"I told him that you were out of town. He told me that his wife was at her book club meeting and wouldn't be home until at least 10:30. It was only 6:00 so I asked him if he'd like to come over to our house for a drink."

"Of course, he accepted."

"He did. I wrote our address and my cell phone number on a napkin and told him that he should park in the garage. He followed me home. When I pulled into my side of the garage he pulled into your side and I closed the garage door behind us."

"Why didn't you just have him park on the street? You said that you weren't trying to hide your new lifestyle."

"I was trying to be considerate of you. That night Derek picked me up at the house I was indiscreet. I embarrassed you. I don't want to do that again."

"But you say that you're not trying to hide your new life style. Isn't that a contradiction?"

"I guess so. Michael, this is all very confusing. I enjoy being a slut and I get a little thrill out of flaunting it in front of people, but I also don't want to embarrass you."

"Go ahead and flaunt it. Now that I've had a chance to think about all of this I'm not all that concerned about the opinion of our neighbors. Actually I have to admit that having a slut wife is kind of exciting."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Then get ready for a little excitement because your wife loves being a slut."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"Yes, I am."

"That's why I have to stay away for awhile. I want you to immerse yourself in this new life."

"I wish you were here. I'd like to share the excitement with you."

"Jeanne, I'm not yet ready for that. I think I can handle hearing about your adventures, but actually witnessing them would still be difficult for me."

"I understand."

"I would like to hear more about your evening with Trent Peters."

"Are you sure? It might be painful for you. You do understand why he came to the house."

"Yes, Jeanne, I understand why he came to the house."

"Of course you do. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm still a little nervous about talking to you about this."

"And that's exactly why we have to talk about it. If I'm going to be part of your new life we have to be able to talk about it. You have to be able to tell me about your dates and I have to be able to hear about them without getting upset. Eventually, I hope that I'll be able to enjoy hearing about them. Jeanne, you're excited about your new life. I want to be able to share that excitement with you."

"I want that too, Michael."

"If that's going to happen you have to start telling me about your dates, every detail."

"I understand and I'll do that, but first I need to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"I've learned that I enjoy talking dirty. Would you be offended if I use some coarse language?"

I laughed. "No, in fact I think it would be fun. It might also help dispel that image of a proper wife and mother that you worked so hard to maintain for all those years."

Jeanne giggled. "I think that image is about to be shattered."

"I'm ready."

"Okay, here goes. When we got into the house, I made two martinis. While I was doing that, Trent was all over me. He was kissing my neck, fondling my breasts with one hand and rubbing my ass with the other."

"You loved it, didn't you."

"I did." Jeanne paused and then she asked. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, it's okay. In fact it wouldn't be a very good story if you weren't enjoying it."

"You're right, it's just that... I don't know, this all feels so strange."

"And that's why we have to do it. We have to try to reach a point where it doesn't feel strange."

"Okay."

"Please continue. Trent was kissing your neck, fondling your tits and rubbing your ass."

"Yes he was, but I have to admit that while hearing you say that so casually is exciting, it's also a little unnerving."

"Now don't try to put me on that pedestal that you're working so hard to escape."

"Micheal, honey, we've shared that pedestal for twenty-seven years."

"Maybe in your mind. In my mind I’ve been a dirty little pervert for the whole time."

Jeanne laughed, but then she paused. After a moment she said, "Michael, I'm sorry I was such a prude."

"It's okay, now back to Trent. You were making martinis and he was rubbing your ass."

Giggling, Jeanne said, "That's right. As soon as I finished the martinis we moved into the living room and sat on the couch. We clinked our glasses, took a sip of our cocktails and set them on the coffee table. I smiled at Trent. He kissed me. Our martinis were immediately forgotten. We started making out. In a matter of minutes we were both naked and I was on my knees between Trent's legs sucking his cock."

Suddenly realizing how excited she sounded, Jeanne stopped. There was a long uncomfortable silence. Finally she said, "Michael, I'm so sorry that I've never done that with you."

There was more silence. Jeanne waited. I didn't respond. Her intuition had been correct. I was hurt.

"Michael, please say something."

"Jeanne, I don't know what to say. Do you want me to tell you how happy I am to hear your description of how you so eagerly sucked this guy's cock?"

"I'm sorry, Michael. I didn't intend to get so excited."

"But you did get excited. It was clear to me that you were more excited about this guy's cock than you've ever been about mine."

"Michael, that's not true. I love your cock. I've always loved your cock."

"Really? That's interesting. When was the last time you knelt between my legs while I was sitting on a couch and gave me a blowjob. Oh I remember, never!"

"Michael, please understand."

"Oh, that's right, that was before your awakening. Jeanne at this moment it seems to me that just about every man on the North American continent but me is benefiting from your awakening."

"Michael, you've been gone."

"I was there when Derek Fischer was getting the benefit. Hell I had the pleasure of watching you give it to him."

"Michael, please, you weren't supposed to come home for several hours."

"You're right, that was my mistake. In the future I'll remember to make an appointment when I want to see my wife."

"Michael, I fucked up. I fucked up royally. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say."

"Neither do I, so I guess there isn't any reason to continue this conversation. Good bye, Jeanne, it was nice to talk to you."

I hung up the telephone.

A minute later it started ringing. I ignored it. Eventually it stopped.

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened it. It was John the motel manager. "Mr. Nolan, a woman claiming to be your wife is trying to reach you. You're not answering your telephone. Is there a problem?"

"John, right now I'd prefer not to talk to my wife. Can we leave it at that?"

"Yes sir, of course we can."

John started to leave. I stopped him. "Just a minute." I peeled two twenty dollar bills from my money clip. As I handed them to him I said, "Unless I tell you otherwise, I'd prefer to be left alone for the remainder of my stay here."

John took the money and said, "Of course sir, if anyone calls I'll tell them that you're unavailable and I'll invite them to leave a message. Will that be adequate?"

"Yes, that will be just fine."

A soon as John was gone, I sat done in the room's big easy chair. Closing my eyes I sighed and shook my head. I knew that I'd just fucked up royally and I didn't know what to do about it.

I slept fitfully that night. The next morning I awoke feeling tired, depressed and alone. I didn't feel like doing anything. I wanted to call Jeanne, but I was too ashamed to even consider doing that. The previous evening I'd coaxed her into telling me the details of her date with Trent Peters. I assured her that it would be all right. I actually convinced her that it would be therapeutic for both of us. And then while she was doing exactly what I'd asked her to do I lost my temper. I was an idiot.

I forced myself to make a pot of coffee and tried to read. The coffee tasted bitter and I couldn't focus on the novel I was reading.

I took a shower and shaved. That made me feel a little better. Deciding that I was hungry, I walked to a cafe on Geary Street and had breakfast. As I was walking back to my motel I finally noticed that it was a beautiful day.

Realizing that the worst thing I could do was spend the day alone in my motel room wallowing in my misery, I hurried back to my room, got in my car and drove to the Lincoln Park golf course.

A threesome of men I'd played with previously were just teeing off. I joined them. The sunshine, the good company and the golf helped restore my spirits. By the end of the round I knew that I had to call Jeanne and try to make amends for my irrational behavior. As I drove back to the motel, I was composing my apology.

I got back to my motel room at about three o'clock. It was Thursday, a work day. At home it was five o'clock. Jeanne would just be leaving work. It was a bad time to call her. I decided to take a shower and call her in an hour.

While I was taking my shower, I realized that I was starving. I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I needed food. I dried off and dressed quickly. There was a sandwich shop six blocks away. I could grab a quick sandwich and still be back at my motel room in time to call Jeanne at 4:30. That would be 6:30 her time. The timing should be perfect.

I was tucking in my shirt when I was struck with a sudden fear. What if Jeanne had a date with Trent Peters. What if she met him for drinks and dinner after work. When they finished dinner they'd go back to our house. Jeanne would suck his cock and then he'd fuck her.

I sat down on my bed and buried my face in my hands. I couldn't do this. Sharing Jeanne with other men was difficult, but it wasn't an insurmountable problem. I was reasonably certain that given enough time I could learn to accept and maybe even enjoy her affairs. Hearing her talking about doing things for other men that she'd always refused to do for me was the real obstacle. It tore me apart. It was unbearable.

Still, I didn't want to lose Jeanne. She was the mother of my children and the love of my life. Living without her was unthinkable. I had to find the strength to get through this. I pulled myself together and stood up. I could do it, I had to do it and I knew how to do it. I had to begin by calling Jeanne. Communication was the answer, but we had to establish some ground rules. We needed to find a way to talk about what Jeanne was doing that wouldn't create unbearable heartache for me.

As I was picking up my wallet and car keys there was a knock on my motel room door.

Assuming that it was the manager, I walked over to the door and said, "John, what do you need?"

"Michael, it's me. Open the door." It was Jeanne.

"Jeanne what are you doing here?"

"I had to see you."

"But how did..."

"Michael, open the door and let me in."

I smiled. That was my Jeanne. She didn't tolerate foolishness. I opened the door.

Jeanne threw her arms around me and said, "Baby, please don't make me go away. I had to see you. I couldn't sleep at all last night. I love you so much and I hurt you when we talked yesterday. I'm sorry I did that. I understand why you got mad. I was telling you about doing things for other men that I've never done for you. Micheal, this has all gotten out of hand. I do want to play with other men, but not while you're being neglected."

I said, "Hi, Jeanne." And then I held her close and whispered, "I won't make you go away. I can't begin to describe how happy I am to see you right now. I couldn't sleep last night either. I love you too and I'm so sorry that I got mad while we were talking yesterday."

"It's okay, it's my fault. All of this is my fault. My stupidity put us in an untenable situation."

"You haven't done anything that's stupid. You're trying to live a lifestyle that's a little different. It's changing both of our lives. Sometimes change is difficult."

"Micheal, do you think we can work this out?"

"I do, but let's not try to get it all done in the next five minutes. You're here. I can't imagine anything that would have made me happier today than seeing you."

Jeanne stepped back and smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to buy a new dress and get my hair done. Getting here took up my entire day."

"It's okay, I'm just glad that you're here." I picked up Jeanne's travel bag, carried it into the room and set it by the bed. When I turned around Jeanne was unzipping her dress. She let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. After picking it up and tossing it on the bed she turned and faced me. She was wearing a black brassiere, a black garter belt, a pair of black nylon stockings, black lace panties and her black high heeled pumps.

I stared at her.

Grinning, Jeanne said, "Do you like what you see studman?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I like it a whole lot."

Jeanne reached behind her back and unclasped her brassiere. As she took it off and tossed it on the bed, she said, "Take off your pants."

"Jeanne, don't you want to get some dinner or have a drink first?"

She shook her head. "No, I need to do this right away. It's important."

Understanding, I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my trousers and let them fall to the floor. After stepping out of them I picked them up and tossed them onto the bed next to Jeanne's dress.

Jeanne was wearing her panties over her garter belt. She pushed them down to her ankles. I stared at her exposed pussy. It was shaved bare."

Seeing me staring, she said, "Do you like my shaved cunt?"

I nodded. "Very much."

"I wish you were the first man to see it, but I won't lie to you. You're not."

"It's okay, I assumed that was the case."

"Take off your boxers."

I pushed my undershorts down and stepped out of them. My penis was sticking straight out. As I picked up my underwear Jeanne said, "I see that you have a big problem. Sit down on the bed. I'll take care of it for you."

Grinning, I sat down on the bed. Jeanne knelt on the floor between my legs and wrapped the fingers of her right hand around my erection. While I'm not a big man, I'm not small either. Erect, my penis is about six inches. Jeanne could easily wrap the fingers of one hand around it, but not two.

As she began stroking me with her right hand, she gently cupped my balls with her other hand.

I closed my eyes. The sensations Jeanne was creating were wonderful. But then it got even better. She leaned forward and kissed the head of my cock.

I gasped.

Giggling, Jeanne looked up at me and asked, "Do you like that, big boy?"

I nodded.

"I think you'll like this even more." She parted her lips, sucked the head of my cock into her mouth and started licking it with her tongue.

I gasped again.

She did this for maybe a half a minute and then she stopped and took my cock out of her mouth. "Michael, I'm going to suck you now. I want you to relax and let yourself go. I want you to cum and when you cum I want you to cum in my mouth. I've never let another man do that and I never will. You're the only man who will ever get to cum in my mouth and I'll do it for you any time you ask me."

Jeanne slipped my cock back into her mouth and started sucking me again. At the same time she stroked me and fondled my balls. The sensations she was creating were glorious.

Slowly, she intensified her efforts. She sucked me more vigorously while she stroked me harder and faster. As Jeanne did that, my excitement grew. I felt the warm glow of pleasure building in my loins.

Jeanne kept sucking me. Suddenly I felt the first spurt semen erupt into her mouth. She kept sucking me. Another spurt followed and then another. Jeanne kept sucking me.

I felt the spurts of cum subside. Jeanne continued sucking me.

Finally my erection started to wilt in Jeanne's mouth. She let it slip from between her lips, looked up at me and smiled.

I smiled back.

She said, "Did you enjoy that?"

"Very much, thank you."

"I enjoyed it, too. Feeling you cumming in my mouth was exciting."

Reaching down, I helped Jeanne to her feet. She sat next to me on the bed. I started to kiss her.

She pulled her face away. "Michael, you just came in my mouth. Let me get a wash cloth so I can wipe off my lips."

Shaking my head, I said, "If my semen doesn't bother you, it certainly shouldn't bother me."

Smiling, Jeanne closed her eyes and kissed me. I kissed her back and then I held her tightly in my arms.