As a rule, I didn’t mess with married women. Well, the ones wearing their rings, that is, the ones that were obviously married and didn’t even try to hide it. If a woman is in a hotel bar with her ring on, one of four things is probably going on: she wants to have a drink in peace; she’s waiting for her husband, either to go somewhere else or as part of some weird sex game I don’t want to be involved in; she’s too dumb to hide her ring, and therefore there’s a chance her husband is going to show up with a shotgun while I’m on top of her; or she’s looking to attract the kind of guy that’s actively looking to fuck married women, i.e., not me.

I say “rule,“ but it was more of a guideline. It used to be a hard and fast moral imperative: I wouldn’t fuck married women because it’s Not Right. Even before I was married, I wouldn’t have, and certainly not when I was still with Anya. But afterwards… Well, then, it was more a method of self-preservation than anything even vaguely noble. 

So, while I preferred to spend the evenings with single women when I was on the road, the woman who had the presence of mind to at least attempt to hide her infidelity was still fair game, because she probably wasn't going to get me in trouble. And married pussy is as good as any other kind; better sometimes.

Maybe even “guideline” is going too far. What’s below that? “General inclination?” Whatever, because when Marlene Sanders approached me in the bar of my hotel on a Tuesday night, wedding ring fully on display, I was given only the slightest pause. 

As she entered the bar with that diamond warning beacon on her finger, I’ll admit I was disappointed. Marlene was an absolute knockout: slim, great tits, an ass I wanted to bury my face in, long legs and long blonde hair, and absolutely breathtaking sky-blue eyes. She was wearing a black minidress and pumps, along with tastefully minimalistic makeup. I pegged her in her early thirties, about my age.

I was tempted to ignore my misgivings as she leaned on the bar and ordered her drink. The pickings were slim, too, increasing the pressure I felt to take my shot, general inclination or not. But I still held fast, at least until she came over and sat down next to me, glass full of something dark in one hand.

“Marlene.”

“Jack. What are you drinking?”

She smiled. “Coke. I didn’t come here to get drunk.”

The next question to ask, ‘What did you come here for,’ was too obvious, so I skipped ahead. “Conversation and company?”

Marlene chuckled. Even her chuckle was sexy, a low, throaty thing that made me wonder what other kinds of noises she made when she was having a particularly good time. “Something like that. Is that what you’re here for?”

“Something like that. Seems I’m in luck; I can scarcely imagine more pleasant company.”

She smiled and took the next step in the dance. “Are you here on business?”

With a nod, I answered, “Sales. You?”

“No, no. Just a bit of a diversion for me.” She took a sip. “How long are you in town?”

“I’ll be gone tomorrow, I’m afraid.”

“Pity.” Her hand, I’m sure quite unintentionally, came to rest on my knee. “I would have liked to show you the sights.”

I snorted slightly. I didn’t mean to, but her advances were just so blatant. “Well, there’s still tonight. Anything fun to do here in the evenings?”

My amusement seemed infectious; Marlene grinned like the cat that got the cream. “I’m sure I could think of a few things.”

We were upstairs within minutes, her nibbling on my ear and breathing absolutely filthy inducements into it, and me fumbling with the key to my room while fighting off the urge to take her right there on the hallway carpet. I’m pretty sure she’d have let me, too, by the suggestions she was making.

The door finally–finally!–opened, and we fell into the room together, Marlene pushing me against a wall, and frantically tugging on my belt while I pawed at her delightfully firm ass. We lost clothes left and right: a belt to one side, high heels kicked in another direction, my shirt on the floor, her dress–and my god, what a view beneath it–tossed over her head and onto a lamp. 

Then her bra came off, and the tits I had thought merely great when she was fully dressed were upgraded in my estimation to magnificent, with long, hard dark pink nipples that I had to immediately latch my mouth to. Hers was a body that deserved to be worshiped; I might not be the first to prostrate myself at that altar, but I sure as hell would endeavor to be the most zealous. My supplication was rewarded with a chorus of moans and gasps from her.

My hands found that incredible ass again, and I picked her up; a giggle slipped in amongst the other sounds coming from Marlene’s blood-red lips. She held tight to me, legs wrapped around my waist, one hand tangled in my hair and the other gripping onto my shoulders, as I carried her from the entryway, through the suite, and to the bed. She didn’t release her grip as I laid her down on it, nor did my mouth leave her lovely breasts. 

At first, I tried not to be too rough; I wanted to fuck her, but I didn’t want to fuck her life by sending her home with marks. But then she growled, “More!” and gently raked her fingernails down my back, and I stopped worrying. By the time I was done with her, she’d need a truckload of concealer to hide the aftermath of our passion. My suckling turned first to light nips, and then to harder ones, and Marlene loudly moaned, “Harder! I want him to know I’ve been fucked by a real man! Fuck me like a whore!”.

I pulled away from her, a little sneer on my face. “Do you, now? Wanna be my little married whore tonight?” Her eyes danced with a wild desire as she surged upwards to pull me back down, kissing me fiercely, then moved her hands to unbutton my pants. There was a little excited squeal then as I took her hands and pinned them to the bed. “Say it.”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, split me open with your cock! I want you to make sure my husband knows I’ve had another man inside me!” 

Okay, it was still a weird sex game, but he wasn’t there, and she was. Even “general inclination” seemed to be well in the rearview now. 

I didn’t mean to, but I frowned. I didn’t used to be this person. Marlene saw the hesitancy there, briefly, but seemed reassured when my mouth latched onto her throat, biting and sucking at it. “Yesss. Fucking take what you want!”

I chuckled into her neck. “I don’t have to.” A querulous little noise escaped her lips. “You’re going to give it to me, aren’t you, slut?” 

Marlene giggled at that, wrapping her legs around me and rubbing her panty-clad snatch against the throbbing erection straining at my zipper. I pressed myself hard against her, and she whined, “I need it! Please? Don’t tease me anymore.”

Reluctantly, I disentangled myself from her. I’d blown through any moral qualms I had, at least temporarily, but common sense dictated that I still be careful. I absolutely planned to fuck her until she told me to stop–and possibly past that, depending on how she liked to play–but there was no way in hell I was going to do it without a rubber. 

She pouted as I stood up, but then grinned broadly with the realization this was merely a brief intermission for practicalities. One of Marlene’s hands squeezed her breasts and pinched their lovely, perfect nipples, while the other slid into her soaking panties to pleasure herself until I could better assist with that task. 

I smiled at her wantonness. “You’re so beautiful, Marlene.” Now, finally, and for the first time, she turned shy. It made her all the more lovely, that sudden and unexpected vulnerability. Marlene hesitated for just a moment; perhaps she was as nervous as me, and perhaps for similar reasons. Maybe this wasn’t who she used to be, either. 

“Don’t stop, gorgeous. I want the sight of you seared into my memory just like this.” The words sounded rehearsed as I said them, but they weren’t. They were just a heartfelt outpouring of affectionate lust for the lovely woman who would share my bed for the next little while. 

Her hands began to move again; the expression she bore was still a little abashed, but that lasted only as long as it took for me to begin unfastening my slacks. My gorgeous married whore bit her bottom lip as my dick came into view, and that little change in her expression made me feel like I was ten feet tall. The most primal parts of my brain screamed, “She’s here, and she’s yours! Pin her down, take her, and make her bear your child!” But the more sensible bits of gray matter made me reach into the dresser drawer and pull out a pack of condoms. Sorry, caveman, not tonight.

As I rolled the thin latex sleeve onto my cock, Marlene’s fingers moved to pull down her panties. My voice growled, “Don’t,” and she froze. I grinned evilly while grasping the last impediment to her ravishment, and she raised her hips eagerly, the twin of my smile on her face. The flimsy fabric came away with a ripping sound, and she laughed. 

“A trophy?” Her tone was something tantalizingly between challenge and submission. The caveman in me still screamed at me to claim her, but she and I both knew who had claimed who in that bar. Marlene was helpless to my strength now, but I had been equally helpless to hers when she sat down next to me with a drink and a come hither smile.

Her eyes flashed with mixed concern and desire as I pushed the damp cloth to her lips, between her teeth, into her mouth. “A trophy later, yes.” Marlene’s reply was a low, needful, wanton moan. “But for now, they belong here, don’t they?” A vigorous nod of her head. There was no hesitation on her part; she wanted–no, needed–to be debased. Degraded. Used. And I’d do that for her. For me, too, if I was honest. One of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen laid before me, naked, gagged with her own underwear, and pleading with her eyes for me to take her. How could I refuse?

As I knelt on the bed between her splayed, toned legs, she held them open, giving me access to her in any way I chose. I’m sure I could have taken her ass then, and she’d have been just as pleased. But for now, for this first time, I knew what my target was. Until she had entered this room, until she had been stripped, until she made herself vulnerable to my strength, she had been another man’s. And for just a moment longer, she would be. But only for a moment.

I slid the latex-clad head up and down her labia, pushing forward just the tiniest bit, pulling back a bit more when she tried to meet me. She made a little frustrated noise, and I chuckled. “Did you need something?” She whined around the cloth in her mouth, nodding again. “But you can’t tell me, can you? Tch. Such a shame.” Another whine, accompanied by a more frantic movement in her hips.

And then I impaled her, my cock taking Marlene from her husband, at least for now. But in truth, Marlene was giving herself to me, letting a stranger use her for his pleasure instead of the man she’d vowed her eternal fidelity to, and we both knew it. She was ready for me, and I slid easily into that hot, tight hole. The sensations around my dick were muted by the rubber, but others weren’t: the smell of her arousal, the frantic clawing at my back as I laid atop her, her legs squeezing me as I plunged inside, the loud gasp of a need fulfilled echoing in my ear.

“Did I find it, my beautiful married whore? Did I find what you needed?” That drove my new lover almost to the edge by itself, and my words were rewarded with her motion; Marlene’s beautiful, athletic body undulated under me, writhing with pleasure and shame as she climaxed. The gag didn’t prevent all sound from escaping her lips, and my married whore’s muffled moans and whines were as much an inducement as her whispered words had been earlier when she had so distracted me as I tried to open the door. More, even; her whispers were seductive, but her raw, greedy, animal sounds were primal.

We coupled passionately, my body pinning hers to the bed as I thrust into her with gusto. It had been a month since I’d last been with a woman, but I made up for that lost time. And I’d never been with one as wild with abandon nor as sexy as Marlene; I felt a pang of regret that this couldn’t be more, but we both knew what it was. And I knew I never wanted to be with another unfaithful wife, at least not one that was married to me.

Marlene screamed into her gag as she came the second time, and I honestly worried she might choke on it. But I wanted more of her ardor, and I grunted, “That’s right, you fucking married whore! Come on another man’s cock! Cheating fucking slut!” If I had thought her manic before, I learned then that I had no idea. Her nails drew blood from my shoulders, and the way she spasmed around my dick almost did me in right there. But I wanted something different.

I plucked the cloth from her mouth, and she gasped for air. “Oh god! Oh, oh god, Jack! It’s so fucking– oh god, more, please!”

“I’m close! I want– fuck, Marlene!”

“Anything!”

I took her at her word. My sweet blonde slut whimpered as I slid from her tight pussy, but when I clambered up the bed and knelt astride her belly, she laughed with glee. Her fingers pulled the condom free. Her hands grasped at my shaft, sliding up and down it. And her wild laughter, her pleas for my cum, the almost worshipful look in her eyes: these finished what her exquisite cunt had started.

“Fffuck Marlene!” I grunted as streams of pearlescent white splattered across her breasts, onto her neck, and up to her face. She squealed, delighted, as I marked her with my seed; the caveman in my brain might have been unhappy that I hadn't finished inside her, but the teenaged Jack, that had watched far too many hours of porn, was quite pleased with his handiwork.

It wasn’t just her body that was coated, but her fingers, too. Her rings. My jism dripped from the empty symbols of her fidelity, and I wondered, fleetingly, if Anya had done this with her paramour. I frowned again without meaning to, but if Marlene noticed, she didn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes stayed laser-focused on my cock as she kept stroking until I was fully emptied, til even the last, dribbling bits of my spend were gone from it.

Then she moaned, “Ooooh my god. That was… Mmmm.” Her cum-covered lips smiled up at me. “Do me a favor?”

Out of breath, I panted, “Anything. Who do I have to kill?”

She just laughed again. “Take a picture of me?” I raised an eyebrow. “You have your trophy. Now I want mine.” Leaning over her to the bedside table, I grabbed my phone. She posed for several photos: arching her back to show her painted tits; her left hand, wedding ring covered in my jizz next to her slightly parted lips, tongue extended; kneeling on the ground, looking up, mouth wide with my cock just about to enter.

Once I’d texted them to her, she stretched and yawned. “Got one more in you tonight, sexy?”

I pointed at my cock, already stiffening again. “What do you think?”

Such a sweetly coy expression could only come from a truly filthy mind. “A lady never wants to presume.”

“Is that what you are?” It was meant to be friendly and playful, not cruel, but I’d missed the mark.

A tiny grimace, quickly concealed. “Sometimes.” She rallied gamely, trying to hide the bruise I’d left on her ego. “But not with you!” There was a sudden pain in my heart at the idea that I’d hurt her, that I’d accidentally gone out of bounds of the game we’d been playing. 

I pulled her to me and kissed her softly and sweetly. “You’re still a lady, even when you’re being my whore.” My beautiful lover’s features softened, and I saw a glimpse of the real Marlene for the first time. Not the seductress that lured a stranger upstairs with hints of carnal delights, not the married whore that begged me to take her, not even the brief vulnerability when I told her she was beautiful as I undressed: the melancholy woman underneath who hadn’t always been like this. She kissed me, another sweet, lingering kiss, then rested her head against my chest.

After a time, she murmured, “We need to get cleaned up. Do you mind if I go first?”

“Not at all.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about what had happened. What we had done, of course, it had been a stellar sexual encounter, easily one of my top five. Top three, probably. But also how I’d shifted to be what she wanted, even as far back as the bar. About how much I had wanted to be that person, the kind of cad that would take an obviously married woman to bed as long as he felt no repercussions. 

Who had I become that I would so easily do that? To have gone, in only two years, from someone who detested adultery to an active, eager participant in the cuckolding of another man?

“Your turn.” Marlene’s voice startled me from my thoughts, and after another brief kiss, I went into the restroom and took care of my business. I could hear her voice in the bedroom as I finished. It sounded like half of a conversation. Talking on the phone to someone?

When the bathroom door opened, it became very clear that the person on the other end of the phone was exceedingly angry. His voice was almost as loud through the phone– not on speaker– as hers was where she sat on the bed only a few feet from me. She waited for him to stop shouting, then said, “I’ll be in room 218.” Not my room number, not even the same floor. “See you soon.” And then, to the sound of more enraged yelling, she hung up. With a wan smile, Marlene said, “We’ve got a few hours before he gets here. Still up for another go?”

If this was a weird sex game, it was none I’d ever heard of. There are cuckolds out there, ones who are humiliated and revel in it; there are others that are humiliated and hate it but are too ashamed or afraid to do anything about it; and there were husbands who enjoyed reclaiming their wives after they’d been allowed to be with another man. But Marlene’s husband didn’t sound like any of those. He sounded like he wanted to kill her.

“Marlene?”

She tried to put on a brave smile. “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before. He’s over a hundred miles away–” She held up her phone and showed the locator app on it. “– and this’ll give an alarm when he gets within twenty-five. Plenty of time for us.” That wicked grin was back, but it was clearly a mask this time, and one only barely held in place.

I sat on the bed and took her hands. “Marlene, what’s going on?”

A hesitant smile then, a real one, a hopeful one, quickly replaced by the mask once more. “Oh, Jack, that's not your concern. Come on. We’re here to have some fun together.” She leaned in to kiss me, and I let her, but I also pulled her into my arms and held her. I embraced her like a lover, not like a man she was just there to fuck, but as someone who was concerned for her and cared for her.

Yeah, I had brought her up here to fuck the hell out of a wayward wife looking for a good time. But I found myself genuinely liking Marlene. And there was something else there, behind her seductive bravado, a sadness that I couldn’t ignore. I knew that I was broken, and I’d suspected she was, too, but I ignored it because I was getting what I wanted. What I thought I wanted, anyways, but what I wanted now was… well, yes, I wanted to fuck her again. My body was leaving no doubt about that. 

But the same urge I’d had near the beginning had returned. It was the impulse that had me initially try to not mark her, to protect her from the consequences that would befall her outside this room due to what we’d done inside it. That protectiveness came back full force with the understanding that this was neither simply an unhappy wife cheating with an anonymous stranger nor a game between her and her husband. This felt like something with deadly consequences.

“Jack, please, I…” The tears started to fall. “Don’t- I can’t… You don’t know me. That was… that was the point of you, of picking you. Please, I–” I kissed her again, and she melted against me. As she broke away and pressed her head to my shoulder, hiding her face, shuddering sobs racked her slender frame.

I let her cry for as long as she needed. When she had calmed a little, I laid down and pulled her with me. Marlene curled up in my arms, sniffling. As soothingly as possible, I told her, “It’s okay, hon. I’m here. We can talk, or we can just be together like this for now.” She nodded, and we lay together in silence for a while longer. 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded small. Frail. She hugged me tightly to her body like I was the only solid thing in the world. Such a change from the confident woman of only a few minutes before.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” I asked again, “What’s going on?”

“It’s…” She chuckled. “It’s a long story.” Her fingers made their way to my cock and started to slowly stroke it. “You sure you’d rather hear that than–”

I kissed her head as I moved her hand away. “Yes. I would.”

Marlene sighed. “Okay.” Then a little laugh. “Why couldn’t you just be an asshole?”

“I saw you turn down two guys at the bar, Marlene, that were clearly assholes.”

She nuzzled into my side. “Point.” A little kiss on my chest. “I guess… I guess I wanted this. Or, not this, but… but something besides just being called a whore and fucked like one.” She looked up suddenly as I flinched. “Oh no! No, I wanted that, too! That was… Jesus, Jack. That was sooo damned great. You were incredible, and I hope we have the time for you to be incredible at least once more.” With a little happy noise, she nestled in again. “But this is nice, too. Better than nice, even.”

“But?”

She sighed. “But it’s got to end soon, and I wish it didn’t. I wish I’d waited until tomorrow to call my husband. But I didn’t want to worry him.”

“Why… Wait, what?” I didn’t even know how to ask all the questions I had.

“Why I don’t want to worry him? Because I love him.” Marlene said it so matter-of-factly even as she lay in the arms of the near stranger that had fucked her, the man that wasn’t her husband but had usurped his place. “I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true, Jack.” She sighed again. “I’ve loved him since we were in high school.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I do love him.” Marlene looked up at me and could tell this created more questions than it had answered, then laughed. “I know, I know.” Her head dropped down onto my chest, and she scooted closer, throwing one leg over mine. With a deep breath, she began to tell me her story.

“I’ve known Alan since we were children. He was my first everything: first kiss, first boyfriend, first… well, everything, like I said. Everyone knew we’d be together forever.” Another small sigh. “Maybe that’s why we ended up here.

“We got married just after college, and things were great. But then… I don’t know. Something changed. Lots of small problems. First, he couldn’t have kids; some accident with a dirtbike when we were teenagers. He didn’t want to adopt or do IVF or anything like that, and that was fine; or I thought it was, at least. I didn’t know… didn’t realize at the time what a hit that could be to a guy’s ego. I was a little disappointed, but I wanted to be with him, so I just sucked it up.

“And then his career tanked suddenly. It was through no fault of his own, but we ended up getting married in the middle of a downturn in his field, and he couldn’t find a job. So I had to be the breadwinner. He felt… emasculated, I guess. We’d both grown up in a small town, and his family was more conservative than mine, which was already pretty conservative. And… well, anyways. That was another wedge.

“And Alan… I love him. I do. But he’s a fairly ordinary-looking man, if I’m honest. In my eyes, he was so very handsome, but I knew, even then, that was through the filter of my love, and not how the rest of the world saw him. It didn’t bother me, but it made him insecure. Jealous. He started to wonder if I was cheating on him. Then he became obsessed with it. I wasn’t, of course. I would never have…” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Well, back then, I never would have.” I squeezed her, and she pressed her face against my side.

“The long and the short of it is that there was a rift, and I couldn’t find a way to close it. He got more paranoid, more jealous, more insecure. I loved him so much, but he interpreted it as guilt, like it was proof I was cheating on him. And then…” I heard her swallow. “And then he cheated on me.”

“What?” Who would be stupid enough to cheat on this gorgeous creature? But then, Anya had cheated on me. By all accounts, by everything my friends and family told me, hell, even by what Anya herself told me as she tearfully said goodbye in our last meeting, I was everything she should have needed. And it still hadn’t been enough to keep her from another man’s bed.

“Alan had found a job. It wasn’t in his field, but it was something he could do, at least. It bolstered his confidence, not enough to give up on his paranoia, but enough to make him wonder if he still ‘had it.’ He ended up banging one of the secretaries there. 

“I didn’t find out about it immediately, but when I did, I went ballistic. I finally managed to convince him that I hadn’t cheated. Alan realized he had been taking revenge on me for something I didn’t do, and he seemed so remorseful. We went to counseling, and I hoped that would be that. It wasn’t.” I shifted uncomfortably. “You too? Cheated on, I mean?”

My throat felt tight. “Anya. My wife. We weren’t like you and Alan, we just… We met after college. Hit it off. Fell in love. And then, five years into our marriage, it turned out she’d been fucking a friend of ours for six months. And when I asked her why…” 

I scoffed. “No real answer. She had no excuse for why, no actual complaint about me. ‘I wasn’t trying to hurt you. It was just sex. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It doesn’t mean anything.’ Buncha other bullshit. She wanted to stay together, but that wasn’t happening. If it had been… I dunno, if she was drunk and slipped up once, maybe. Maybe not. But, like, is it really remorse if you can’t even say why you did it? If you don’t know why you did it? I had loved her, but I just… No. It was over.”   

Marlene hugged me. “I get it. I’m so sorry; she was an idiot. Christ, even just giving up this sex makes her an idiot, and you’re cute, too. And kind, even after someone did that to you. What a fucking moron.” She leaned up on one arm and kissed me lovingly. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

“Not your fault.”

“Yeah, but it still sucks to get cheated on. And it shouldn't have happened to either of us.”

“So what happened next?”

She sighed, laying back down next to me. She felt so warm there. So right. “I loved him with all my heart. We were supposed to be together, you know? That’s what everybody said. It’s what I believed, really believed: that he was my one true love. I wanted to get past it and move on. 

“And we did, for a year. Then I learned he was cheating again. Something was… different in him, I guess after he cheated that first time. It gave him back the confidence that he had lost, and showed him that he could still be desirable to other women. Never mind that they were skanks and tramps. Never mind….” She shook her head and sighed. 

“I confronted him again. He apologized again. Said it would be the last time. But when the fallout wasn’t worse, when I didn’t leave him, I think that some switch flipped in his brain, and he decided he could do it and get away with it. And the next time he did, less than six months later, I showed him that he couldn’t.”

Marlene was quiet for a time. When she spoke again, her voice sounded haunted and regretful. “That was the first time I cheated. I was so nervous. It was… honestly, it was disastrous. I cried afterwards, and the guy kind of wandered off and left me there. The sex was fine, I guess; maybe if I had been more into it… well, it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t there for the sex, except as a means to an end. 

“I went home and told Alan straight away that I knew he was cheating. He wouldn’t believe me at first when I told him that I had as well, that there were consequences to his actions. Then I stripped for him and showed him where the other man had marked me. Then… then…” 

Her voice went quieter still. “... It was painful. He reclaimed me, and he didn’t care how much it hurt.” My fists clenched. Hell, my whole body tensed. I wanted to pound that son of a bitch until he stopped moving. How fucking dare he hurt– “No! No. Not like…he didn’t smack me around or anything. It was just… He had always been so gentle when we made love before, and he wasn’t then. It wasn’t about… It had always been about our connection, even when I was hurt by how he had cheated. But that time, it was about him showing me that I was his.

“He didn’t cheat again for a while. I think I’d shaken his confidence. He focused on us and on his career. But then, there was a little setback. Something at work, a promotion he didn’t get.” She chuckled darkly. “A ‘reason’ that wasn’t really a reason. I tried to be supportive, but it wasn’t enough. And he cheated again. Alan was more careful this time, but I still found out. 

“He’d been with at least two women that time, so I upped the ante and found three different men. And those times… those times, I enjoyed myself. Let myself go with them. Allowed myself to be the married whore that I’d told myself I was the first time, when I had cried afterwards.

“I embraced her wholeheartedly, both because she was fun and to shield myself from…” Marlene’s face pressed softly into my chest. “From something like this. From sharing myself too much.” She kissed me again, then whispered, “I’m glad I can share this with you. That you care.”

“I do, Marlene. I really do.” I sighed, “Why didn’t you just divorce him? Christ, you’re gorgeous and funny, and… God, you seem great. You could have any man you wanted!”

She laughed a little at this. “I did. Have any man I wanted, that is. Never married men; I wasn’t going to be the other woman. But what I wanted was for Alan to be faithful, and this… well, I couldn’t make him do it. But I could remind him of the consequences. And each time, he took a little longer to stray. It’d been almost two years before… before what led to this. To us being here together.

“And as to why I didn’t leave? I love him. I still do, even after everything. I cheat because I love him, because if I didn’t cheat, I’d have to hate him. If I let it go and showed that I was willing to live with the contempt of him running around on me… No. No, that wouldn’t work. This way, he’s reminded that I won’t.”

I sat with that for a long minute as she traced lazy patterns on my chest with her finger. This wasn’t right. What he did to her wasn’t right. “Christ, what an asshole. You deserve better, Marlene.”

That little wan smile again as she glanced up at me. “God preserve us from getting what we deserve.”

“I’m serious, Marlene. I don’t know how you could be that… patient. Or accepting, or whatever. I know you’re doing this because you’re not really accepting it, but…” A bitter memory pushed its way forward. “When Anya cheated, I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand to be around her, to be reminded of how I hadn’t… I guess how I hadn’t been enough for her. Somehow. In some way, she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me. And I just…” I looked away from her. “I’m not… I’m not the person I used to be. He wouldn’t like me very much, I don’t think. He wouldn’t have done this.”

“This?”

Marlene was looking up at me with sadness in her eyes when my gaze returned to her. “Yeah. The old me, before Anya cheated on me… he would never have gone anywhere near a married woman.” She pulled away, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t mean… This is lovely, Marlene. You’re lovely. But if you had approached me two years ago, I wouldn’t have even thought…” I chuckled, and she relaxed. 

“Okay, I would have thought about going with you, because- well, I mean, look at you.” Marlene smiled and even blushed slightly; it was heartbreaking, really, to think of how her husband had mistreated someone that seemed so wonderful. “I wouldn’t have, though. But once… I dunno; once it became clear that I had been the only one playing by the rules, actually giving a shit about my vows, I just couldn’t care.”

She moved back closer; her warmth felt invigorating and comforting at the same time. “No honor among thieves, hmm?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I didn’t… I still don’t approach married women. Obviously, married ones, that is, the ones wearing rings and showing they’re taken. But if they’ve taken them off and I don’t see anyone else available… The me from two years ago, even the one before I was married, would have steered clear. Now, I don’t. And I’ve realized, after being here with you, that I don’t like who I’ve become. And I don’t like that I let her… No, that I let myself become something because of what she did to me. That I was too weak to stick to my–”

Marlene silenced me with a kiss. “Hush.” I opened my mouth, but she interrupted. “You got hurt, Jack. Badly hurt. I know how painful it is. I… This was never where I saw my life going. I know what it’s like to change in ways you didn’t expect, to look at everything you’ve done and wonder how you got there. To not like that journey or the person at the end of it.

“But you’re a good guy, Jack, even if… well, even if you haven’t acted like one as much as you used to. You’re sweet and sexy and great in bed. You’re funny and kind, too. Unless there’s some kind of deep, dark secret you’re not telling me, there’s nothing so wrong with you that it would make sense for any woman to cheat on you.

“And it sounds like there wasn’t anything wrong with your marriage, either. Or at least nothing your ex could point to. Did you have any kind of warning, or was there anything afterwards that you could point to and say, ‘This led to it?’”

“No. I’ve thought long and hard about it. The closest thing was that I traveled for work, but even that was only a couple of times a month for a day or two. I’ve never been able to think of a single, solid reason why she’d want to go outside of our marriage.”

Another kiss, a longer one, loving and filled with promise neither of us could keep. Marlene put her chin on my chest and gazed at me with dazzling blue eyes. “People cheat for a lot of reasons, but it almost always comes down to one of three things: there’s something wrong with their marriage, with their spouse, or with them. And there’s nothing wrong with you, Jack. There was nothing wrong with your marriage, as far as you could tell, and she gave no indication otherwise. So that means she cheated because there was something wrong with her.”

I knew this. All of it. I’d had two years, almost three, with the time the divorce took after Anya got the judge to make us go to counseling. My friends had told me. My family had. Even Anya had. But it’s one thing to know it, and it’s another to have someone else, someone who’s nearly a stranger, look at your life and tell you, “You did nothing wrong.” There’s knowing something, and then there’s understanding it. Believing it. And now, finally, I did. 

It made me feel better to hear it. It also made me feel worse; Marlene could see it on my face.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. You got hurt, and you went a little crazy.” She chuckled. “Trust me, I know how that can happen. But… look, this time, since you’ve been divorced, it’s a blip. You haven’t acted like you thought you should. You can change that.” An evil little grin. “Well, after I’m done with you, that is.”

I laughed, but then I thought about what she said some more. “Marlene… Why don’t you just leave him?” 

Maybe I wasn’t the only person who needed to hear something they already knew. Her eyes went wide for just a moment; then she looked to the side. “It’s not the same, Jack. I love him. I do.”

Running my fingers through her hair, I softly said, “I understand that, Marlene. But do you think… do you really, honestly think that he loves you?” She looked at me again, nostrils flaring with anger. “No, wait. I’m not saying he never did. And I think… maybe he does, in his way. But this… God, Marlene, is this really love? Is this a love you want to live with for the rest of your life?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but I continued. “No one deserves what he’s done to you, Marlene. And you sure as hell don’t. You deserve a man who loves you as much as you love him. Who wouldn’t… who wouldn’t put you through all of this for his ego. Who wouldn’t make you…” 

I sighed. “You said that people cheat for one of three reasons. Well, he cheated because there was something wrong with him. But… God, Marlene, now you’re cheating because there’s something wrong with him. And I understand why; you desperately wanted to make it work, and this seemed to do it at first. And then you kept doing it because you had already started down the path and couldn’t see another way forward but through. 

“But now there’s something wrong with your marriage, too. Probably irreparably wrong, by the sound of it. And, if you don’t stop… I mean…” 

I didn’t want to say it, not with those beautiful sapphire eyes welling up with tears again. Not with the way her lip quivered and her face fell as the weight of reality came crashing down on her. For the first time, a stranger had put her problems into perspective, just like she’d done with his, and it crushed her.

If she didn’t stop, what was wrong with her husband and what was wrong with her marriage would become something wrong with her, too. Maybe it already had. Maybe it was like a cancer that had metastasized and taken not only the love two young people had once had for each other, but the love she had for herself as well.

I didn’t want to believe that; she was so… good. Not just beautiful, but funny and insightful and loyal and sweet. She had been driven mad, but so had I, both of us driven to be people we weren’t by the ones who had promised to love us forever. I was sure I could find my way back. I needed to believe she could, too. And, more importantly, she needed to believe it. And if she couldn’t do it on her own, I had to convince her.

I patted her as she cried, whispering to her and shushing her softly like one would comfort a child. “It’s going to be okay, Marlene. It’s going to be okay. You’ll get through it. I promise.”

And then, as she was finally reaching the point where she could talk again, when the fear of her new reality had finally started to become manageable, it happened: the proximity alarm on her phone went off. Her husband would be at the hotel soon. 

Marlene began to panic: frantically trying to dress, babbling about how she needed to get ready to greet him, how she was sure, absolutely sure, that this time would fix it. She was fracturing right in front of me.

“Marlene. Marlene!” She slowed but didn’t stop. “Wait. Wait, Marlene. You have half an hour. Wait and think. Please.” The tormented, fearful look in her eyes almost killed me, but she did finally stop and sit back on the bed.

“I... I have to go. He’s my husband.” There was a hollowness there, in both her words and her voice, like her spirit had been carved out. I recognized it, and while it hurt to see, it meant progress. That hollow feeling was the same way I’d felt years before, when I realized there was no way back with Anya.

And then, once again, I was sitting on the bed with her, holding her hands. She was still half naked, her dress barely on and completely out of kilter, but any thought of the passion we’d shared before was gone for the moment. “You do have to go, Marlene. But not to him.”

She laughed bitterly. “With you? We’re going to have a whirlwind romance, find our happily ever after together?”

My hands squeezed hers. “Maybe. Maybe not. Hell, probably not. You don’t know me from Adam, not really. But… look, Marlene, maybe there’s nothing more for you and me than tonight. But even if that’s the case…” I cupped her cheek with one hand, and she dipped her head towards it. “Even if it is the case, I know that there’s a future for me. And there’s got to be one for you, too.” Tears formed, and I said, “Ah ah, don’t start that again. We’re on a clock here, woman.” That made her laugh, an honest, deep laugh, and that laughter felt like a fever breaking.

“How… What do I do, Jack? My whole life is back there with him. I can’t just walk away from it.” Now we were down to logistics. This was good. This was yet more progress, and it was something else I recognized from my own experience.

“You don’t have to. I mean, maybe you’ll want to, but you don’t have to.” I stood up and started to move about the room, gathering my own clothes and quickly dressing. She followed suit as I spoke. “Tonight, I’m going to check out of this hotel. You’re going to send a text to Alan that you’re not coming home, and that you’re going to be seeing a lawyer tomorrow. And then you’re going to turn off your phone, and we’re going to drive to the other side of town, or to the next one, and we’re going to find a hotel to stay at.”

“Jack, I don’t–” 

I held my hands up, placating. “We’ll get two rooms. This isn’t about… Whatever happens from here, this is about you and you alone, Marlene. You’re young; you have a whole life ahead of you. Is this how you want to live it? Really?” 

She looked hesitant again, so I gently added, “I’ll be there for you if you need it. As your friend. As- as more if you want. If we want to try. But no matter what, I’ll be your friend, Marlene. I’ll stand with you through this, even if it means I have to travel back here every week.”

That was enough, at least for now. She had a new set to her features, a new and determined one. We didn’t really speak again for a while, as I quickly tried to shove all of my clothes back into my suitcase while she grabbed my toiletries out of the restroom and tossed them to me. When we left the room and headed to the elevator, there was an air of paranoia; her husband’s phone was getting closer and closer by the minute.

A quick stop in her room to grab her overnight bag. Four miles out. Into the hallway again, then to the torturously slow elevator and down to the ground floor. Three miles. My room card went onto the front desk, and I all but shouted as I ran past that I’d check out online. Two. Bags into the trunk, Marlene into the back seat, shutting off her phone and laying down. Me, clambering into the driver’s seat and cranking the ignition; a sputter, then a slow start.

A car fishtailed into the parking lot, taking the turn much, much faster than was safe. A man–a very large one–sat behind the steering wheel, head on a swivel as he looked around the parking lot. His eyes were filled with rage and grief as he glared at me and pulled into the spot next to mine. A nod to him, one man to another, as I tried to not piss myself. Then I broke eye contact, backed out of my space, and turned out onto the road.

And then we were away, heading down the road, to the next town, to a new hotel. To the beginning of a new life for each of us.

Marlene did stay with me that night; we both felt a little silly getting separate rooms after what we’d already done. But I just held her as we talked and as she mourned something that had been dead for far longer than she’d wanted to admit.

It dawned on me then, even if I already knew it intellectually: Marlene had never been with anyone else, not in any relationship but that one incredibly toxic marriage. She’d only ever been in love with him. She hadn’t known how it felt when you fell out of love with someone but still loved them. The way they still held a place in your heart, even as you had to find a way to move forward.

She’d never had that high school breakup, or the guy in college that was great but just not quite right for her. The relationship that broke up because of career goals, or the spark that seemed to catch but then slowly fizzled and died. All of these touchstones of modern romantic life had been denied to her, and with it, the experience of knowing how to deal with this greater anguish. That night, not to mention the following weeks, brought a series of new and painful lessons for her.

I stayed by her side through all of it. Marlene decided she did want to leave her old life behind after all: the parents and in-laws who did everything they could to keep her and Alan together and keep the peace between their two families, the friends who insisted that theirs was a true love even as they knew that he’d cheated on her and even as some cheated with him; the job that she was never really happy in, but which she took to provide for herself and her husband.

Marlene moved in with me for a little while until she could get on her feet. There was an easy rapport between us; we transitioned pretty easily from friends to friends with benefits, which wasn’t surprising, given where we’d started. She and I were good together sexually, and it turned out that, while we didn’t have a lot in common at first, we had enough for a friendship that went beyond that one shared night that had changed so much for us.

Once she had moved out, we mutually decided to cool things off. We each still made ourselves available to the other for some late-night fun if one or the other of us was in the middle of a dry spell, or, as sometimes happened, if one of us was going through a breakup. Our fondness for each other grew over time, but she needed to get out there and find out who she was outside of a relationship, and I needed to see if I could get back to who I’d been before Anya.

Marlene blossomed as a single, independent woman. I tried to not dislike the first boyfriend that she introduced me to, several months after her divorce. I failed, but I think I hid it pretty well. I did a little better at not disliking the second one. But the third one? That one was a great guy. Perfect for her. And she was exactly what he needed, too. They jumped into bed too early, probably, and they had kind of a weird history together, but that turned out to be a strength instead of a weakness.

Okay, yeah. It was me. Three years after that night in the hotel, we moved back in together, this time as an engaged couple. In our vows later that year, we both made sure to emphasize “and forsaking all others.” It’s turned out to be pretty easy, even a couple of decades later, even after kids and the empty nest phase and all the other ups and downs of life. Marlene made it easy to stay faithful, and I never gave her any reason to doubt me. She does still enjoy being my sweet little married whore from time to time when we’re alone together, though. Some habits are hard to break, and it’s not like I pushed really hard to get rid of that one.