We desperately wanted to repair our marriage. After several sessions with a therapist, we were talking with each other for the first time in many years. When I say talking, I mean communicating, which actually means listening. We also found that this began to improve many aspects of our life, including our sex life. Rather than assuming we knew how to please each other, we were both openly sharing our needs.
One of the things our therapist stressed was that our relationship was not static, but fluid, changing constantly. I don't think we are any different from most couples. When we first married, our relationship was in the discovery mode. I remember us spending all night talking and sharing our deepest feelings.
Then, after the years passed, we had heard all the stories and jokes… many times over. I knew his reactions to most things before he would give them. I even started finishing his sentences. Whatever mystery we held for each other had long faded away. I'm not saying life had become boring, just a bit… familiar.
Also, when we were first married, the whole concept of love and sex were virtually inseparable; but after our mutual indiscretions, the lines seemed a bit blurred. We started to honestly talk about our past, and what our future might look like. One of the relational exercises in our therapy was to talk openly about our mutual affairs without being defensive. It was difficult to hear Chuck say he had sex with his secretary because he wasn't fulfilled. Likewise, I revealed that my night with five marines was incredible and I loved it.
The therapist discussed options for us to explore, and one was an ‘open marriage.’ She stressed this was not just about an open sex life as much as it was about openness and trust. She also said it is not a mainstream lifestyle and was frowned upon in most circles. She explained many open couples have not ever shared themselves outside the marriage. It was just an agreement of freedom to do so.
After a few months of therapy, I saw changes in our attitudes. Perception is everything. My self-confidence seemed to be growing daily and I was constantly discovering new things about myself. I started to welcome compliments I used to shy away from. Chuck said he noticed I dressed more provocatively, but the truth is, I was wearing the same clothes I always did. It was more my confidence and stature, like the way I walked.
As our communication improved, I was shocked to find we actually shared many of the same hidden fantasies and we began to role-play in the bedroom. The idea of me becoming a hot wife became a regular topic of discussion with us during pillow talk. Just the thought of it led to increased passion during our lovemaking, though we had no plans to actually bring it to reality.
I was coddled and protected for most of my life, first by my parents and then by my husband. My sexuality was limited and always guarded by others. My folks sent me to a Catholic all-girl school and I had not even dated or kissed another guy before I met Chuck.
Then, I got pregnant on our honeymoon. It was like my whole life was being mapped out for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a poor little rich girl regretting my life. I'm just saying, I didn't experience the same interaction and experimentation most have in their youth. I guess that is a big reason I am embracing these new concepts with such a sense of adventure. The whole idea seems intriguing, especially since Chuck is exploring the possibilities with me.
-oOo-
Looking back at our history together, our destinies seemed to have been shaped more by random, unplanned events than by the carefully crafted ones. I remember, right after we got back together and my son got married, something happened that would change our lives forever. I will paraphrase FDR’s line and say it was, “A day to last in infamy.”
Chuck had grown our business to the point he was considering going public. To say the business was profitable is an understatement. We were getting write-ups in all the trade journals constantly. Clients were flocking in. Even with all the improvements of a larger plant; more employees, and new computerized equipment, we couldn't keep up with all the orders. We had become victims of our own success.
Then, one day without warning, three men came to his office representing a large east coast manufacturing conglomerate. They made an offer to buy our business. Chuck said no, without hesitation. Then, they countered by doubling their offer. I remember receiving a phone call about noon on that day.
“Hun, you'd better sit down,” Chuck cautioned.
“Why? What is wrong?” I replied, thinking the worst.
“Nothing is wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite. A group of men showed up this morning with an offer to buy our business.”
“The business is just now starting to yield the profits you always dreamed of. What did you say? No, I hope.”
“Initially, I did, but they made an offer I couldn't refuse. Pending our attorney’s evaluation of this contract, we are now officially retired. Well… right after you quit your job, we are.”
“That is crazy. Quit my job in the middle of the school year? I’m a teacher, and can't do that to my students,” I replied, firmly.
"I'm going to text you the figures. You won't believe me over the phone.”
A few moments later I received his text. I opened it and exclaimed, “Oh, my God! Is this for real? Those are a lot of zeros.”
“Yup, and I'm taking you on that cruise I promised. How about it? Still wanna teach?”
I stared at the numbers on the screen and chuckled, “Well… come to think of it, those little munchkins will do just fine without me.”
-oOo-
It was quite a change of pace for us to go from insanely busy schedules to days of leisure; from making money to spending it. At first, I felt guilty being free to do what I wanted, so I volunteered to join every civic committee I could find. I was marching for women's rights, picketing for global warming, saving the whales, and stopping the use of fracking. It wasn't as difficult for Chuck to adapt, as he instantly immersed himself into the surfing culture. Our house on the beach became the surfers favorite hang-out.
I have to be honest and admit it wasn't all that hard to adjust to having a bunch of hard-bodied, half-naked, young surfers hanging around. I also noticed that Chuck was not in the least bothered about his friends constantly hitting on me. One guy, in particular, seemed to become a regular fixture around our house. His name was Jerry.
Jerry was just a few years older than my son, but it was obvious he had a major crush on me, which really didn’t hurt my ego. He’d show up around breakfast time and I would usually give him a roll and coffee. This basically broke the rule my mom taught me about strays.
She would say, “Don't feed them or they will keep coming back.”
Chuck knew about Jerry's infatuation with me but said he was harmless. Besides, Jerry always brought his board and was ready to go surfing with Chuck at a moment’s notice.
One time, while I was cooking breakfast and Chuck was sleeping in, I asked him, “Jerry, don't you think you should get a job?”
“I do have a job, Mrs. G. I work evenings at the Red Lobster.”
“Then you need to find a girlfriend.”
"Where am I going to find a girlfriend as hot as you, who will fix me breakfast every morning?” He grinned and winked at me.
“That's sweet, but I can tell you for sure that you’re not going to find her in my kitchen.”
“Can I ask you something personal?” he asked, looking at me intently.
“Well, that depends on how personal. What do you want to know?” I replied, stirring the scrambled eggs.
“How much older is Chuck than you?”
“You know already that Chuck is older than me. Why are you asking?”
“A hot woman like you shouldn't be tied to an older guy like him. Come on, I know you must think about what a young guy could do for you.”
I was taken back by his boldness. He was supposed to be Chuck's friend. Friends don't hit on their friends' wives.
I glared at him and replied, “What do I think? I think it is none of your fucking business, and just what do you believe a young man could do for me that Chuck couldn't, anyway?”
"The list is long, but I would rather show you,” he said, squeezing his dick through his board shorts.
Without hesitation, I slapped him in the cheek with a loud smack and said, “You say Chuck is your friend, and you proposition me? I think it is about time you should leave. Now!” I pointed towards the door.
“Calm down, Mrs. G. I was just asking. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to say I think you're hot.”
“You should be embarrassed. I'm almost old enough to be your mother.”
"Yeah, I know,” he grinned.
His penetrating gaze made me feel naked. Men have an uncanny way of undressing you with their eyes, no matter what you are wearing. The fact I was wearing my bikini didn't make it very difficult for him.
“I think you'd better leave now, Jerry. This conversation is making me feel very uncomfortable.”
I held the door open for him to leave, but he surprised me by pulling me to him and kissing me deeply while slipping his hands in my bikini bottoms and squeezing my butt cheeks. I felt powerless to pull away as his muscled body pressed me to the door frame.
He whispered in my ear, “I'm gonna fuck you. You know it and I know it!”
I stood there speechless and watched him walk away. He half-turned and grinned back at me. I was caught between shock and disbelief by what transpired. I was angry and insulted by his unsolicited advances, but I also felt a bit flattered.
I dwelt on this the whole day. I should have immediately told Chuck. I don't know why I didn't. Later that night in bed, my guilt got the best of me and I told Chuck in detail what happened with Jerry. I thought about keeping it to myself but decided that I would break the agreement of honesty.
Chuck listened intently to my story and then asked me, “How did Jerry kissing you and feeling you up make you feel?”
“I just told you your friend propositioned me and groped me, and you ask me how it made me feel?”
"Yeah, how do you feel about a young guy hitting on you? Does it make you mad or does it make you feel… maybe a little excited?” he asked, caressing my breast through my nightgown.
“Are you fucking nuts? Just what are you saying? How was I supposed to feel, and why aren't you pissed that your friend kissed me and told me he was going to fuck me?”
Chuck continued to rub me and answered, “Hun, we talked about your sexual freedom when we got back together. We discussed in detail with the therapist about having an open marriage. I told you I'm good with you… say, spreading your wings.”
“Spreading my wings? Don't you really mean spreading my legs? Wait a minute! Why are you not angry? Did the two of you plan this whole thing?” I glared at him, pulling away. “You did! You planned it! You can be such an ass-hole.”
“Well… I kind of knew he might ask you. Sweetheart, I thought maybe this would give us a jump start on the whole open marriage thing. Don't be so angry.”
“Don’t be angry? I can't believe you two set me up, and that you had the audacity to share our intimate private conversations with him. I'm not some play-toy to be passed around at your whim. I'm going to sleep in the guest room and I want an apology. No... I demand one! You can be such an idiot at times!” I said as I bounded out of bed.
“I’m sorry, Carol. I made a mistake. Don't leave, Hun.”
I turned back and said, “No, this is not a mistake. A mistake is mixing up a cookie recipe. What you did is a betrayal. Have you learned nothing? Think about it, buster. I'm going to bed… Alone!”
-oOo-
The next day, I was moping around, my thoughts dominated by the events of the previous day. Around noon, I received a call from the hospital. Chuck had been in a surfing accident. They gave me the information where he was, but nothing more. In a panic, I drove to the hospital at break-neck speed. When I got there, Chuck was being x-rayed. Jerry was there, along with a couple more of his surfing buddies, Casey and Don. They explained that Chuck got hit by another surfer and couldn't feel his legs.
"What happened?” I asked, in a panic.
“He was snaked by a poser and wiped out bad. I think he was hit by a board on his back. I pulled him to shore and someone called 911. He took in a lot of water, but we did CPR,” Casey replied, with a tense look.
Suddenly, I realized I was standing in the hospital waiting room in my teenie-weenie thong bikini. I had left in such a hurry, I forgot to get dressed. One of the nurses was kind enough to hand me a hospital gown to cover myself, but not before I had been gawked at by everyone in sight.
After talking with the guys about what happened, an older man with white hair, dressed in hospital scrubs, approached me with a clipboard. He had a very serious look about him and I expected the worst.
“Are you Mrs. Gray?”
“Yes, I am,” I answered him, with apprehension.
"Charles is receiving an MRI as we speak. We will know more after that is completed. It appears he is suffering from an acute impact to his lumbar spine and has disk trauma, exasperated by some natural stenosis.”
Not having a clue what he was saying, I asked, “He’s going to be alright, isn't he?”
“There is numbness to his lower extremities. However, I think the paralysis is temporary, caused by swelling.”
“What are you going to do? What is the treatment?”
“There are still more tests, but I'm guessing he will probably have to be in traction for several weeks or longer. As soon as the results come back, we will know more. Right now, he is stable, conscious, and communicating.