It's not really something anyone ever expects to hear. More so, it’s something that people dread to hear. The common response, aside from shock, a feeling of intimate betrayal and anger is, of course, disbelief. It’s always “Not my wife, she wouldn’t do something like that.” But more and more, the sad truth is, sometimes, she would.

Statistics support that, although women are far more closed-mouthed concerning “indiscretions,” most will go to the grave without ever having shown the slightest evidence of having committed infidelity. The reasons for such behavior are as varied as the people that succumb to the temptation, everyone has their reasons and they rationalize the behavior in their own minds to ease their conscience.

Should the episodes ever be discovered, many of them lead to violent confrontations, divorce, and complete separation from what is seen as the “normal self.” People behave both, predictably and unpredictably, often at the same time. Most people are quite certain of how they might react when confronted with such a circumstance, but there are endless examples of even “the bravest of the brave” abandoning their courage at a critical moment and fleeing to save their own skin.

On the other side of the argument, there are those people who are capable of the greatest most unpredictable acts of courage, selflessness, and sacrifice, completely out of character for what is their perceived “normal.” On occasion, some will display a degree of understanding never before exhibited within the relationship. Playing Walter Middy and living through something, are very different experiences. Daydreams aren’t real life.

Most people, when confronted with this kind of admission feel like they’ve been run over by a truck, certainly an understandable reaction. In reality, all the signs were there for you to see, like flashing signs on a dark highway. Chances are, you just weren’t paying attention. Long-term relationships are made up of infinite components, some of those elements are seemingly insignificant until one by one they vanish from the whole like leaves falling from a tree until all at once, that tree is barren, a skeleton of what it once was. The beauty is, that same tree can and will regenerate its foliage and be the vibrant living thing it once was, but it needs to be nurtured. You can’t ignore it thinking it’ll just take care of itself. That's how things die.

When a relationship begins, that very tree blooms, and each leaf, whether consciously recognized or not, is a vital part of the whole. That’s what we’re attracted to, that’s what we fall in love with, that tree, that notion, that reality and it is initially shared by both. That becomes our “idea”, our normal.

As the leaves begin to fall, these ostensibly insignificant elements create enormous voids.

Most of the time, we never know which of those falling leaves possesses extreme importance to our partners. What may seem like an insignificant gesture to us, a meaningless component in the big picture, for them is vital. These things are generally easily recognized if you’re paying attention.

Oftentimes, the person to whom these things are critically important may be oblivious to that fact. That’s what happens when we become complacent. We take things for granted. Some believe that complacency and contentment are the same things. That is a dangerous misconception.

Pay attention, that particular relationship is the foundation of all others, whether we realize it or not.

“We have to talk,” was the ominous beginning to this unpredictable chain of events. “Honey, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh Geez," I thought to myself. That could mean anything. Rarely has a great conversation begun with those very words. Those words are normally the precursor to trouble, as was the case here. Every Red Flag unfurled at once. The Nausea Blanket of Doom enveloped me.

“Alright, so what's the trouble?” I asked with tempered suspicion.

“Well,” she began with enormous apprehension in her voice.” I guess there’s no easy way to say this, but there's this guy at work.”

“Oh crap,” I replied sounding like the rug of my world had just been pulled out from underneath me, which, in fact, it had. I immediately jumped to conclusions and reacted impulsively, imagining the worst possible scenario.

“I’m not even going to ask who it is because right now that’s not the most important thing to me. What is important, is “why.” How and when did I manage to push you so far away? I mean, you and I, we...I just don’t understand.“ I stammered with my thoughts racing and fragmenting at the same time.

“You didn’t push me away in as much as maybe I drifted away,” she replied sounding very remorseful. “It wasn’t like I planned this.”

“It never really is, well, almost never. I know you’re not that kind of person, so in order for something like this to happen, there has to be something very very wrong," I said being more rational than anyone would have ever expected. “That's why I’m so interested in “why” this happened, we’ll get around to “what” actually has happened a bit later.”

“I have no idea," she responded searching for reasoning. “I keep asking myself that same question.”

“Obviously you felt the need to say something about it. I’m sure your conscience has been beating you up pretty well, but here’s the part I don’t understand. Am I not attentive enough? Am I not available enough? Do I not try hard enough? Am I not a good partner?”

“You’re all those things, you always have been, sometimes even too much.”

“I mean, I’m aware of what I do as well as aware of what I don’t. I’m honestly engaged in our relationship.

Whether you see it or not, I’m actively trying to better it. Even if you don’t agree with the methods, you have to acknowledge the effort being expended," I paused taking a deep breath and bracing myself. “So, tell me honestly,” I said readying myself to ask the question that one no in this situation wants to hear the answer to, but is compelled to ask. “Are you in love with this guy?”

She let out a sigh of exasperation and said, “No, I’m not. Love has nothing to do with it. Which adds to my confusion, This just isn’t like me.”I felt some small sense of relief and then you continued, “But there is a bit of an attraction, in a way that I can’t define…I…I can’t explain it. That’s what bothers me. ”

I guess I looked dejected, shocked, in disbelief, all the things one might expect. “What exactly has happened?”

“Honey,” she began very seriously and matter-of-fact. “Nothing has happened. Absolutely nothing. Well, hardly anything, I promise.”

“Well, if it was all so innocent and ‘hardly’ nothing at all happened, then why do you feel compelled to mention it?” I asked confused. “And what exactly does ‘hardly’ mean? I’m guessing I’m not going to be too damn crazy about ‘hardly’.”

“That’s why I’m confused about what happened,” she replied.

“Okay, you’re going to have to tell me just exactly what happened and clarify just what ‘hardly’ is?”

She looked at me with some apprehension before starting, I guess gathering her thoughts or courage or something of the sort.

“I told you how that guy who started working at the center a few weeks ago, right?” she began.

“Yeah, I remember. But you also said that you didn’t really see much of him and that he was there mostly for the after 6:00 pm clients.”

“Yes, that’s right, that’s how it is,” she paused before continuing. “Last week, he came into my room while I was straightening things up, wiping things down. He’d do that sometimes between clients or if someone canceled,” she paused again. “We were just talking, about normal stuff, work stuff. And then he started telling me about how he had gotten divorced, that he lived by himself and that the only time he got to talk with anyone was basically at work. He was telling more personal stuff about his marriage, but people open up to me for some reason and I just thought it was a simple case of just wanting to have someone to talk to, at least that’s how it started,”

She stopped and took a breath before continuing. “So, I picked up my things and turned to leave and he was kind of between me and the door. I don’t know if he was blocking the door intentionally or not, it didn’t seem like that at the time. When I approached the door, he grabbed my arms, just below my shoulders, and put my back against the wall and he kissed me.”

“And you stopped him?” I said, hoping for the right answer.

“I did,” she sighed, “but not right away. It only lasted a second or two but when I pushed him away, his hand was on my…well…you know.”

“Oh, that’s just great!” I protested. “So he had his hand down your pants?! On your, You Know!”

“No! No!” you shot back. “He had his hand…well, umm, right here,” she said, indicating your little mound.

“Oh for fuck sakes!” I said becoming more infuriated. “And why didn’t you tell me immediately?”

“Because I knew you’d charge over there and beat hell out of him, and then everyone would know what had happened and I would have been mortified.”

“Yep, there you go,” I confirmed, trying to catch my breath. “So this was a one-time thing and I’m just supposed to forget about it, right?”

“Well,” she paused and for far too long, “ It wasn’t a one-time thing. After it happened, I was really upset. I felt as though he had violated me, which, in fact, he had. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about why I hadn’t stopped him, why I didn’t slap him or something. I don’t understand why I did the ‘deer in the headlights, thing.”

“Well, why in the hell didn’t you?” I said, agitated.

“Because when it happened, I felt something, ”Again, she paused collecting her thoughts or summoning her courage, and continued, “I got kind of wet, maybe even a little bit tingly. I thought, maybe it was because the whole thing took me by surprise, I wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen, it was a complete shock. Maybe I didn’t have time to react, maybe I just wasn’t thinking. The whole thing just confused me and upset me. I just kept thinking about it. I knew I should tell you, but tell you what, exactly? I didn’t know what I’d say, how I’d say it or even where to begin. I figured it was just a stupid impulsive thing and that I’m a big girl, I could handle it myself.”

“So, the next day, just like he usually does, he came into my room while I was cleaning up. He said he felt guilty, that he was very sorry and that he didn’t know what had compelled him to do that and that he was very ashamed. He said that he hoped it wouldn’t affect our friendship. I didn’t say anything, I just listened and kept straightening up the room. I grabbed my jacket and purse and got ready to leave.

“Then he asked me if I had said anything to anyone, and I said, no. Suddenly, I got pretty pissed off and said, ’You had no right doing what you did. I didn’t ask for that and I don’t know what you were thinking I walked over to the door and he moved toward the door too like he was going to open it for me. Instead, he cornered me again and the same thing happened, he kissed me and rubbed his hand on the front of my pants for a couple of seconds,” she paused again before continuing. ”And he told me that he could feel the heat coming through my pants. He was right and, well, this time I could feel it...I got really wet again.”

“Oh Geez!” I exclaimed. “Ok, ok…” I stammered and very quickly thought of a reason to rationalize that in my head. “There could be a lot of reasons for that, for example…uh…you were just taken by surprise, caught off guard and just reacted…you know…involuntarily…or maybe you were just flattered, right? Just flattered. Plain and simple. I mean here’s a guy that’s just completely compelled and can’t help himself…a guy that really, really needs a punch or two in the face.”

“Honey,” she implored. “ I’m telling you this because I’m trying to be honest. I’m honestly confused and I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s easy,“ I offered. “I know exactly what to do.“

You looked up hopefully and met my eyes and I suggested a solution. “There are these things called guns…”

“Honey, I want to figure this out. I want us to figure this out.”

“What’s there to figure out?” I protested. “Some predator guy basically accosted you at work and I should hire a lawyer and sue everybody!”

“Yes, that’s partly true,” you agreed. “But…”

“How did I know there was a ‘But’ in there someplace…?”

“But…I felt something. That’s the problem, I felt something. Something I haven’t felt in a long time, at least not in that way. I don’t know how I feel about that or what to do about it.”

“Why do we have to do anything about it?” I said incredulously and then thought to myself. “What’s the alternative? To have my wife thinking about this other man perpetually, wondering ‘what if’ from now on?”

“We have to do something because I don’t know what’s going to happen if we don’t,” she confessed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sure I’m in some kind of shock or something right now and I probably am in no real state of mind to make any kind of decisions right now but I can’t just forget about it and revisit this later…I mean, what else am I going to think about? There has to be some kind of resolve, but I don’t know what that is. Am I supposed to say, ‘Gee Honey, why don’t you just go and have a boyfriend and let me know how that works out? I’ll hold down the fort here and just pretend that I have no idea of what’s going on. ‘ I’m just not seeing any good choices here.

I took a deep breath and tried to collect my thoughts, trying to separate what I know from what I think I know.

“Okay, what I’m hearing from you is that you’re infatuated to a degree that’s shocking to you and even a bit intolerable. I know what your curiosity is capable of. You’re wanting to figure out why you reacted to this guy's advances the way you did and up to this point, the biggest reason you haven’t acted on those feeling yet is that you have a huge emotional investment and feelings right here. Right now you’re feeling very conflicted. Does that sound accurate?”

“Mostly but you forgot one important thing,” she said very sincerely.

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“That I love you," you answered.

“I know you do,” I returned. Hearing those words from her brought me somewhat back to my senses. "I love you too and that’s why this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me either, Honey, but I just can’t stop thinking about it,” she said at a loss for words.

“You mean, thinking about him,” I said dejectedly.

“No, no, that’s not it. That’s why I’m so confused. It’s not him I'm thinking about. It’s how I felt, why I reacted or didn’t react. This guy touched me, basically violated me and I got excited. I would never have dreamed that I would react like that. That’s not me.”

“What’s this guy's name, anyway?”

“It’s Dean,” she replied somewhat resigned.

“Oh well of course it is.” I sighed, throwing my arms up in the air “That’s just perfect. I suppose he has a brother named Sam.”

“Not funny,” she retorted.

“Well, I know for certain that I can’t continue in our relationship knowing that you’re preoccupied and dwelling on a ’what if’. This is easily the biggest challenge we’ve ever faced as a couple. Something has to happen. I can’t handle thinking that every time you leave the house or go to work that you’re going to have this guy accosting you. You may just break and give into the temptation.”

“I know you can’t live like that and I wouldn’t ask you to do such a thing,” she answered with great understanding.

“I’d like to say that this is a trust issue, but it’s not,” I said, basically thinking out loud. “You came to me and told me about what’s going on before anything, well, almost anything happened, so you haven’t broken any trust boundaries. And I still have no idea how to resolve this,” I continued my train of conscious thinking out loud, “Okay, so far we have:

“Number One: a guy that can’t or won’t keep his hands to himself.

"Number Two: a beautiful, sexy woman that is conflicted regarding just how she feels about number one, and

"Number Three: another guy that has no idea what to tell number two.

Does that pretty much define what's going on here?” I said still thinking out loud.

“I guess so,” she replied, resigned.

“Well, I only see two options, both with essentially the same basic outcome,” I paused trying to suppress the level of nausea that had just skyrocketed. I cleared my throat and continued. “The most obvious option is to simply split up and go our separate ways, affecting dozens of situations as well as destroying a family. Or there’s the non-traditional option two.” I couldn’t even believe what I was about to suggest, “Or you just have to see this thing through.”

“What do you mean!?” she exclaimed very much aghast. “Through to what?”

“To wherever it goes, I guess,” I said, feeling the dejection myself.

“I don’t even know what that means,” she replied becoming frustrated until her head slowly turned to face mine with an expression of abject horror.

“Well, what else am I supposed to suggest? This is either the end of us as a couple, and it may very well be anyway, or you have to see it through. I don’t see any other choices. Neither is great and neither, in the long term, may not be any solution at all, but it’s all I can come up with.”

“So you’re saying I should just go and sleep with him?!” she stammered out in disbelief. “That’s just gross. It’s unthinkable. I’m not like that at all and you know it!”

“I do, I do, I do know that, ”I argued back. “But this isn’t my dilemma…well, I mean, it is now but…something is definitely going on or we wouldn’t be having this discussion. And I found out about it ten minutes ago.” I ran out of things to say that might even remotely make sense.

We just sat in silence for a few moments with our own thoughts trying to mentally regroup until I said…

“Look, I’m just trying to help work this out for the good of our relationship, plain and simple. As distasteful or objectionable as this is…it is for a lot of reasons. That fact remains that you have a strange, undefined attraction to this guy. And whether you like it or not, right now, that’s a fact. You’ve practically said it yourself, and I also know that now that you’re talking about it, you’re also pretty upset with yourself for feeling this way. But you just feel the way you feel.”

“Now that I’m talking to you about it, it seems way worse,” she said resignedly. “I thought we could figure out something together.”

“Like what? Isn’t that what we’re trying to do?” I implored. “Look let’s just back this up for a minute and just break things down again. As much as it pains me to say it, you have some kind of attraction to this guy, most probably just physical, right?”

“I’m not sure but maybe,” she admitted.

“Okay, I will reluctantly accept that. And you don’t really want this to be the end of our relationship but you want to work this out together, right?”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Well, I’ve always said, this relationship is it for me. I’m too old to go build something else, so, I have to work with what I’ve got here. And I think you feel the same way, right?”

“Yes, absolutely,” she replied with conviction.

“Okay, so, therefore, we take that option off the table. And now we’re left with finding some other kind of solution.”

“What if I just forget about it?” you offered suggested. “Just pretend it didn’t happen at all?”

“And are you just going to pretend it didn’t happen the next time it does?” I said. “I don’t think pretending or ignoring this will change anything. There has to be some kind of resolve,” I added still thinking out loud. “And this guy isn’t going to stop unless he’s given a reason to stop.”

We both sat thinking for a moment once again.

“Alright,” I began. “Now, from my position, I’m not willing to just let my wife go out on a “let’s see what happens” date with some guy. There’s no way I’m going to sit home waiting for you to come back to “see what happened”. That’s impossible. I can’t do that, I won’t do that. No one could live with that hanging over their head.”

“I wouldn’t ask or expect you to do that,” she agreed. “Then what is the alternative? What’s possibly left?”

“Only one thing I can think of and you have to remember that this is the bottom-of-the-barrel suggestion,” I replied. “But if all this really is, is just some blindsiding physical infatuation, then this may be a possibility.”

“Good grief, what is it?” she said anxiously.

“It’s not a very good suggestion,” I said, feeling my stomach turn.

“What is it?!” she said, impatiently pleading.

“Nah. Just forget it,” I rebuffed. “It’s just desperation talking.”

“Will you just tell me?” she said getting agitated.

“Well, I suppose we might try sharing you”, I suggested almost meekly.

“Sharing!?," she exclaimed, completely astonished. “That sounds gross and I’m not even sure what that is! “

“Well…in a physical sense, you are shared with someone else,” I offered, feeling my stomach roll even more.

“That’s just weird,” she declared. “And what? You get to decide to “share” me with someone else like I’m a chair or something?” she replied sounding a bit offended. "Hey, Buddy, why don't you just come over here and sit on my chair?"

“No, not like that,” I said having to agree with you. “I didn’t invent the term, so you can’t hold me responsible for that, but…given the alternatives, which all suck, I mean, splitting up over an undefined attraction, infidelity or hospitalization it starts sounding a little bit better,” I said sounding a bit defeated. “Does cheating sound better to you?”

“No, that sounds awful too,” she said sounding defeated as well. “Neither choice sounds very good.”

“And I’m not deciding anything…its not my decision to make. I’m also not knowingly going to put you into a position of being a cheater. That would be foolish and relationship suicide. That would be like setting you up to fail. It would breed suspicion and distrust and everything else. I’m just trying to help work something out and find an option in a situation where there are no options. If you have any better ideas that don’t involve someone going to the emergency room, please, just speak up.”

“That’s not funny,” she remarked.

“Look Sweetheart,” I said taking your hand. “None of this is funny. It’s a dilemma that you have been very open and honest about. Given that and the fact that we both want to find a solution, I don’t know what else to suggest. I said it was bottom-of-the-barrel.”

“Sharing,” she repeated almost to herself. “I’m not that kind of person, I don’t do that kind of stuff. I’m not a swinger type of woman.”

“Oh yeah, I know,” I agreed with her once more. “But again, what are the alternatives? You’re not a cheater either and you don’t want to find yourself in that situation, or at least, I don’t want you to find yourself in that situation, having to make a choice like that.”

“I couldn’t live with the guilt.”

“So, I guess, whatever it’s called, you have to think about it, because I don’t think our problem is going to go away by itself.”

The remainder of the evening felt forced and tense like we were pretending nothing out of the ordinary was going on, walking on eggshells. We had dinner, watched some TV, yelled at the animals, and all the normal activities, but the unresolved black cloud remained over our heads.

We got ready for bed and when we were both settled, you turned off the TV and while laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, you began speaking.

“We have to talk.” she began.

“Oh geez,” I responded, feeling that sinking feeling, thank goodness I was laying down. “Twice in one day? This doesn’t get any worse, does it? It couldn’t possibly get worse.”

“I was thinking about what we were talking about earlier,” she began. “Everything sounds crazy, I’m not sure I like the sound of being “shared” and I can’t believe you suggested it.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot too, how could I do otherwise,” I replied. “I’m not crazy about the idea either, I just know the practice exists. Like I said earlier, I’m out of suggestions. In a world of not-so-great choices, it’s the best I’ve got to offer. To just do nothing, would be like going out in a lightning storm holding a metal pole and hoping for the best. And I sure don’t want every evening just like this one, tense and full of wondering what the other one is thinking.”

“Well, I don’t know what ‘sharing” means and I’m not certain I want to be ‘shared’ with someone else,” she added.

“Okay Honey, I know you’re confused. I don’t blame you at all. Anyone that wouldn’t be confused by this just isn’t thinking clearly,” I said. “Here’s how it seems to me. You’re not sure what’s going on with this Dean guy, and you most certainly don’t want to be a cheater, you don’t want to end our relationship and you want to solve this together, right?”

“Right,” she agreed. “That all sounds like a lot.”

“It is a lot to take in,” I once again agreed. “But it is something we can try and solve together.”

I thought for a moment and continued. “I believe ‘sharing’ is whatever a couple decides it is.

There are no rules or laws regarding its definition. It's the couple's option to decide what the definition of sharing is for them. In my mind, ‘sharing’ is exactly that. As a couple, we would meet this Dean guy and see how it goes. If anything should develop, we’d do that as a couple too and you’d be the rule maker. Whatever happened or didn’t happen would be up to you,” I said having a hard time hearing the words come out of my mouth.

“And you’d be there too, you know if anything ever…happened?” she asked with a sort of disbelief.

“Well, like I said, in a situation with no good choices, it’s the best I can come up with, so, yeah, I’d be there. I don’t think I’d be in any way comfortable with just sending you off to meet some guy by yourself, not that this is a whole lot better. But if my choice was to be there or not, I’d be there,” I replied.

“That’s just weird,” she replied thinking about what had been said. “But, if anything like that were to ever happen, I probably would feel more comfortable if you were there. ”

We lay there quietly for a couple of minutes and then she asked, “What if he touched me?”

“Honestly, my first reaction would be to kill him…but…I supposed I’d have to make some mental adjustments, big mental adjustments…big, big, BIG…mental adjustments. I also think a big part of how I reacted would depend on you,” I replied thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?” she asked quizzically.

“Well, let's say things were escalating and you were devoting all your attention to him, well, then, yeah, I’d probably be upset and feel ignored. I mean, I’m just thinking out loud, I have no idea how something like that would work,” I said thoughtfully. “The whole thing is and probably would be complicated,” I added.

“It’s all too weird,” she repeated. “I could never do anything like that. Two of you? At the same time? That’s just gross. I’m not that kind of person,” she concluded.

“Well, we find ourselves in a situation that I can say neither of us ever considered, yet, here we are and we’ve decided to deal with it. I know you’re not that kind of person, you’ve always made that very clear but, what I don’t know is, what kind of person is that that would? People change, they re-prioritize and look at things differently. A few years ago, I would never, ever have given any thought to such a notion, but now, faced with bad choices, losing you seems like the worst possible outcome.”

“You’re right about that,” she said begrudgingly.

“So, it may be that we have to wrap our heads around an idea that we never thought we’d consider, and what happens is ultimately up to you,” I said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I’ve imagined sharing you with another man before.”

“You have!?” she said shocked. “Why would you do a thing like that? And why would you tell me that now!?!?”

“Well, honestly, if we’re emptying our closets of skeletons, then yes, I have to admit that I’ve thoughts about such a thing on a level that is purely sexual, but if you’re in love with someone else, then that’s something else entirely. I see how men look at you and I know you don’t see it this way, but you’re really, really hot. On some level, I can’t blame what’s-his-face for seeing in you the same way I do," I admitted. “And this is a lot of pressure for you and I thought it might make things easier for you. It’s nothing I ever seriously considered, but I have thought about it.”

“That just surprises the shit out of me,” she said a bit astonished. “I figured you were way too jealous for that.”

“Well, I thought about it as a person might think about winning the lottery or being a pop star, just daydream stuff. Reality is a long way from daydreams,” I concluded. “As far as being jealous…jealousy is how people feel when they don’t trust their partner or they feel threatened. I do trust you and I have to admit that I do feel a bit threatened on an emotional level, but you’ve been completely honest so I have to remember that I trust you implicitly.”

“Thanks, Honey,” she said sounding sleepy. She reached over and stroked my forehead with her fingers, “I’m glad you trust me that much.”

“I have no reason not to,” I replied. “ As awkward as this is, you came to me and told me. That’s really courageous and difficult to do. I do understand that conceptually sex is very different for men and women. Initially, men think with their dicks and sometimes regret their actions later, whereas, women are the opposite in most cases,” I answered getting sleepy myself. “You have a great deal to think about.”

“I sure do,” she replied. “I love you, Honey.”

“I know you do, Lady. I love you too, ”I answered. “You’re very brave. Get some sleep.”

**************************************************************************************************

It was, understandably, a restless night for both of us, given the unresolved situation. I felt that once a decision had been made one way or the other, things might settle down. It’s better to know what you’re facing than to have it remain up in the air. Non-specific monsters are far more frightening.

My dreams were a confused adaptation of everything that happened and everything we talked about the day before and what, at least, a part of me imagined what may be in store.

I kept seeing scenes of multiple hands roving all over your beautiful form as you reclined in the center of a large, pillow-covered bed.

Hands caressed, massaged, and explored, tantalizing every inch of your silky skin. I saw your blouse unbuttoned, exposing a black lace bra, that I, myself, unfastened.

Your lovely creamy white breasts were instantly cradled by some undefined set of hands and I saw your darling nipples wrinkle and become stiff.

I then saw you lying in the middle of this bed, with your shirt open and bra dangling to either side while hands gently careened over your torso.

A pair of hands unfastened the button on your pants and slowly moved the zipper down. My hands took hold of your waistband and slid your pants off revealing cute black lace panties.

The next image I could recall was that of you sprawled in the center of this bed. Your bra had vanished but your open shirt remained. An unaccounted-for pair of disembodied hands glided over your tummy coming to rest on your soft creamy inner thighs, slowly spreading them apart. I interpreted that as an open invitation.

I bent down to position myself between your open thighs, catching an unobstructed view of your puffy pink folds peeking around the edges of your panties.

I looked up to see your hand rhythmically stroking someone's growing manhood as you lifted your head to observe my next undertakings.

I lightly kissed your thighs, moving predictably toward your sweet sugar bowl. My thumb hooked the thin material and pulled it aside, exposing the irresistible, sugary petals, whose warmth I could feel even before my tongue settled onto their silken surface.

As my tongue initiated first contact with your spring-time pink blossom, I glanced up and was confronted with a sight that challenged all my sensibilities.

Your head was now turned to the side, magically supported by pillows, and what I assumed was the same cock you had been coaxing into arousal, was now enjoying the exquisite experience of your oral embrace.

The soft, spongy head disappeared between your pillow soft lips time and time again. With each repetition, more and more of the ridged shaft followed in its wake, enveloped in the warmth of your heavenly mouth. I heard you moan and I saw this disembodied cock swell as it began to pump a cream of its own into your warm oral embrace, dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

I startled back into consciousness, breathing heavily as if I’d been running. I also was adorned with an enormous, straining erection. I lay there very still for a few minutes, waiting for the recollection of my dream to fade, but the vivid details didn’t diminish. I could clearly see every instance of what felt like something I’d be a part of. It felt more like a memory than a dream.

Now, I found, you weren’t the only one conflicted. I assumed that even after a dream of that sort I would have been furious, jealous, or something, but I felt none of that. I rationalized that it was simply a dream, obviously manifested by the previous admission and subsequent conversation. I know that dreams or even fantasies are not comparable to actual life events, but the overriding, residual feeling I had was that of curiosity and fulfillment in seeing you experiencing such pleasure and your unbridled inhibition. My feelings struck me as very much out of character and to say the least, unforeseeable.

I lay there in the dark trying to sort things out, to make sense of my unpredictable reaction. In reality, I was always concerned with your well-being on a daily basis. It seemed as though most days you were plagued with one discomfort or another that oftentimes dictated your ability or inability to experience your life. I normally remained silent but watching it repeat itself over and over again breaks my heart, because I remembered something very different. Yet in this dream, you were free of all that. Free of discomfort, free of restraints, experiencing a forbidden fruit pleasure just because you could and because it was available. I was simply happy for you and your unleashed sexuality was intoxicating. It seemed like you were making up for lost time, stepping out of the box. It was very puzzling and you were undeniably hot.

I reached out and rubbed your shapely little bottom, trying to relax and go back to sleep, but sleep was elusive.

Those are the strange times. The times in the middle of the night when the monsters come out from under the bed. They crawl into your head and scare you, filling your imagination with dread, self-doubt and anxiety.

I kept asking myself why would I even suggest such a thing. We’d gone over the most obvious reasons earlier but I’m certain there were deeper issues than those we’d talked about. Was I feeling inadequate? Was I just so secure in our relationship that something like this was no longer a threat but some kind of non-traditional solution? I was certain that it had nothing to do with my feelings of love and attachment to you. I was also certain that my level of commitment wasn’t in question. Maybe it was just the opposite. Maybe I was so committed to ensuring your happiness that nothing was completely out of the question. I realized that three am was not really the time to create circular arguments for myself, I had all day to do that.

I was certain that I wasn’t the only person that had ever been confronted with these circumstances and these conflicting feelings. I, therefore, decided to do what I always do, I’d find out more about it. I’d see how other couples had handled this and how successful they’d been.

Everything seemed up in the air. You began tossing and turning, mumbling in your own restless dream state. The only one that was probably sleeping just fine was stupid ol’Dean, who could only benefit from a decision being made that he wasn’t even aware of.

*****************************************************************************************************

I must have finally dosed off because when I woke again, you were gone. I got up and went to the living room and found you, sitting on the couch.

“How did you sleep?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“Terrible,” she replied.

“Bad dreams?” I asked, again knowing the answer.

“Yep. Really vivid disturbing ones,” she answered predictably.

“Me too,” I agreed. “I suppose my subconscious is trying to work this out and basically, it’s adding to the confusion.”

“Exactly. Mine is too,” she confirmed. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Well, I’m not sorry you spoke up about what was going on. I'm sorry it happened at all but now we're in the middle of it,” I said honestly. “ I’m going to look into this deeper and see what I can find out. Maybe make better sense of it for myself.”

“What do you mean, ‘look deeper’?” she asked. “And how are you supposed to make sense of this for yourself?”

“I’m just having some strange reactions and unanticipated feelings around this whole thing,” I admitted. “Once I get over the initial shock, I may see things a bit differently.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she said sounding even more confused than before.

“Well, let me try and figure some stuff out and I’ll tell you all about what I discover,” I said shedding very little light on her question.

“I still don’t know what you think you’re going to figure out,” she repeated.

“We can’t possibly be the only couple to have ever found themselves in this situation. Maybe there’s something we’re missing,” I said. “I know that you probably have a hundred reasons that would physiologically explain this,” I said. “I’m interested in what other people have done in this circumstance.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” she replied apprehensively. “We’re not other couples.”

“Well, whatever I find out, I’ll tell you all about, good, bad or otherwise.”

“Great,” she answered with humorous sarcasm. “I can’t wait. I feel so much better”

“I just knew it would,” I answered with the same playful sarcasm. “I’ve got a bunch of work to do and I know you’re going out so I’ll find out what I can find out and we’ll talk,” I said putting that to rest for a while. “So, what did you dream about?”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she replied, starting to blush.

“Ah…evidently I dreamed about the same thing," I concluded. “I don’t even know how I would describe it. Actually, I do know exactly how I’d describe it, what surprised me was my reaction.”

“And just what was your reaction?” she asked quizzically.

“Not what I expected,” I began. “I saw you physically with someone else, I never saw a face or anything but there was definitely someone else there, well, besides me. And we were both, let’s say, gratifying you. While that’s crazy enough, the strangest part was that seeing you in such a state of contentment made me happy. When I woke up, I wasn’t jealous or angry or anything.”

“Okay, that is completely out of character for you,” she remarked. “That’s not like you at all.”

“Exactly,” I admitted. “And that’s why I want to know more. I mean, am I crazy? Is there some kind of explanation for why I’m reacting this way? Funny thing is, the more I think about this entire situation, the more I realize that it really is a ‘together’ issue. Sure, someone else was the catalyst, but it’s actually going to take both of us to go through this together to make any sense out of it.”

“Well, that’s a very rational, logical, weird way to look at this. I’m not sure I know what to think,” she said honestly,” By now, I thought you’d have burned someone’s house down.”

“These are strange times indeed.”