I did not sleep.

I was so worried about Eric kicking me out. My God, I cheated on my husband for twenty years. I fucked another man over a thousand times and gave him twice that number of blowjobs. Looking back, it is hard to believe what I have done. I never thought about how many times I had blown and fucked Larry until I was lying awake at 3:47 a.m. I counted sex acts rather than sheep trying to get to sleep. I was shocked by the number of times I counted that we had fucked, and I had blown him. As I lay there, I could recall almost every suck or fuck as if it were yesterday, like it was a newsreel in my head. My pussy was soaking wet, but I dared not touch it. I tossed and turned as I remembered what we had done. Over the years, Larry had given me thousands of incredible orgasms, and I drank gallons of Larry's cum. How could I rationalize those two things with my man? He could never forgive me for what I have done. 

At some point, I finally drifted off to sleep and awoke when I heard the garage door opening. Oh, thank God Eric was home, but now I would have to admit what I had done and take the consequences.

I threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt as I ran through the house to the garage. I opened the door, afraid of what Eric would be like. I stood on the steps as Eric stepped out of his truck and looked at me. Then he smiled, what, he smiled! Why did he smile? He should be flaming mad with me. I was so confused. I watched him walk towards me and stop. He wiped the tears from my cheeks and pulled me to him, kissing me hard and sliding his tongue through my closed lips.

What was happening? Eric was not acting like I expected. What was going on with him? Why was he not screaming at me or ignoring me? This didn't make sense; he should have hated me, yet he wasn't acting that way.

He took my hand, and we walked into the kitchen. Eric said he was hungry, so I leaped at the chance to do something for him. "I will make you anything you want," I chimed.

"Waffles and bacon would be good. Make that for us," Eric said. He kissed me again and left the room with his bag.

As I made the waffle mix, the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a couple of beats. Who could that be? What if it was a lawyer with the dreaded papers? No, it couldn't be.  

"I'll get it," Eric yelled. I heard him open the door but heard no words. The door closed, and Eric entered the kitchen with a small FedEx box and sat on a stool by the island.

Erik pulled the rip cord, opening the box. He pulled out two brown envelopes. I gasped, "Oh No!"

Eric looked at me. "No, it's not what you think, but it might be even worse!" He said. "Finish the waffles and bacon; then we will eat and discuss what is in the envelopes later." He pushed them to the side and put out the plates and silverware. He poured a glass of milk for him and OJ for me.

The first waffles finished cooking, and we sat and ate while the second ones cooked. There was not much conversation. We both wanted to know what was in the envelopes. I had a sinking feeling I knew and was not happy. They had to be the letters and maybe the pictures Larry took and kept. If that were what they were, I would surely die after Eric saw the pictures and read the letters.

We finished the waffles and bacon and cleaned up the plates and table. Eric made coffee and sat down at the table with the two envelopes. "Marci, sit down, please."

I sat down, nervous as a cat. I watched Eric open the thicker envelope and dump its contents on the table. Out spilled a lot of smaller envelopes and three thumb drives; I gasped, "Oh No!!"

Eric looked at me. His look had changed. Then he asked, "What's the matter, Marci? Don't you want to walk down memory lane with me? I am sure you would like to see you and Larry back a few years when you were younger and fucked like animals. You must have had a wonderful time fucking him."

Oh My God!!! Eric instantly became a cynical man, nasty and sarcastic. He was ready to lower the boom on me. I was so fucked.

Eric lined up the envelopes. It looked like there was one for every year. Larry had taken pictures of us in and out of bed together. He told me he had destroyed them, but he had not, and now they were ready to ruin my life if I had not already done that.  

What scared me most were the three thumb drives. I remember times over the past several years when Larry recorded our afternoons in bed. The last was last year, a wild day, and it would be very incriminating. It was the first time I gave Larry my ass. This wasn't good. I had always told Eric that my ass was his and his alone, but now he would see that I had lied and would know he was not the only man to take my ass; Larry had it too.

Without a word, Eric went to his office and brought back his laptop. Oh No… He was going to make us watch the videos together. I can't do that. I just can't!

"Eric, what are you going to do?" I begged with fear in my voice.

Eric said nothing. He opened the laptop and pushed the thumb drive into the port. He looked at me, "So, Marci, you have two options. One… You can watch these videos with me, we will look at the pictures, and we will read all the letters you wrote to each other. Two… You can leave the table now, begin packing your things, and move out pending our divorce."

If you choose option two, I would be sad and hate losing you. I still love you, even after you have cheated on me for over twenty years. You betrayed me, sucking and fucking another man thousands of times over our entire marriage, and probably have serviced him more than you serviced me, your loving husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was shocked. Oh God… there it was: divorce or undergoing massive humiliation and subjecting my loving husband to twenty years of my cheating words, pictures, and videos one-on-one. I would have to relive everything I had written to Larry and hear every word Larry had written to me as it was read aloud by my husband. Then even worse, I would have to sit beside my husband and watch Larry and me fucking and performing every kind of sex act. We did everything we wanted to experience, including things I had never done with Eric. All of this as I sat beside Eric as he saw, heard, and read it all.

Knowing that on one or more of the videos and written in some of the letters, I had indeed said the words 'I love you'! On video, it was in the heat of the moment, and I did not mean it. The way it sounded when being read from written words was more complicated to explain. Eric would know I had to have loved Larry at some level for the affair to have lasted as long as it did. Telling another man that you loved them was the ultimate betrayal by me to my husband. How could Eric ever tolerate what I had done and said?

I thought about what I should do. Tears began running down my cheeks. This was the most critical decision I had ever had to make in my life. It would decide my whole future for me, my family, and Eric. He had put this on me as he should. I was the one who had decided to cheat for twenty years. I never worried about the ramifications because I never expected to be discovered, so there would be none. I was so stupid and completely selfish; both Larry and I were. What do I do now?

Eric sat calmly, not moving, sipping his coffee and waiting for my answer. I was in a place I never thought I would be. I was about to commit marital suicide, or maybe I did that many years ago. My heart was broken by what I had done to my husband, the love of my life, though he probably doesn't think that is true now. Then there are my children. I cannot leave them or try to take them from Eric. I knew I did not deserve them and should let them go, leave them to have a happy life without me, but could that happen? They all needed me, and I needed them even more now.   

I swallowed hard and looked at Eric. I was not sure how to start. I opened my mouth, and words tumbled out.

"Eric, I do not know what to say. I do not want a divorce, but I do not want to relive my twenty-year-long affair either. I feel sure that once you view the videos and pictures and then we read the letters, you will want to divorce me anyway, so I am going to be kicked out either way. I will not put you through the agony you will experience when you see and hear the affair. I guess the best way I can be fair to you and the family is for me to leave now, taking the pictures, videos, and letters away with me so you will not ever be able to see my cheating in action.  

Eric, this is not what I want, but you have given me no choice. I will be going now to pack my things. Can you please call a hotel and make me a reservation?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked at Marcy, seeing pain on her face. It shocked me that she would not try to save our marriage. Her face contorted, and Marcy began to cry softly. She was totally defeated. I thought about Marcy's decision and realized she was not giving up. She felt she had no chance of surviving, and she did not want to humiliate me any further by reliving her affair. The two choices I had given her put Marcy in an unwinnable position.

My heart sank. I did not want to divorce Marcy, but I could not just let her go, relieving her of the responsibility for her actions over the past 20 years. Marcy had told me I needed not to worry about her cheating again. Her lover was dead, and she was now free from the hold Larry held over her. After I learned the whole story from Anne and Maryland of the tangled web that the entire family had been involved in with Larry, I felt sure Marci would never cheat on me again.

But what retribution could be bestowed on Marci that was strong enough to punish her for cheating on me over our whole marriage? I had no idea! Divorce was the only thing that seemed right. Yet, as I thought about it, what purpose would that serve? It would destroy our once-happy family, which had a chance to be happy again once we got through this mess.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know many of you reading this are screaming at me, 'Burn the Bitch! She cheated on you for over twenty years; she will do it again; she doesn't love you. She is just saying that now to try to save your marriage.'

It's easy for you all to sit out there reading my story. Your emotions are not all tangled up inside, and you don't have my kids to think of. I love that woman and have loved her every minute for the twenty years she cheated on me. As I have said before, there was never a time when she did or didn't do something that gave me any pause to think that she was cheating on me.

So yes, I am hurt and mad at her for being weak and stupid. And you all may be right, and I should dump her, take my kids, and build another life. But I do not want to do that. I want my family back with no cheating happening. Fucking Larry is dead!! So, the subject of her cheating is no longer a threat. He is a small pile of ashes in a cardboard box or an urn somewhere, never to be seen or heard from again: so good riddance, Larry, you dead asshole.

People, I appreciate your feelings, but it's my life, and I am happy to take her back and watch her like a hawk. She never lied to me about anything, though omission was a deceit. I will suffer through my humiliation over Marci's cheating and letting another man, not me put his cock into her body thousands of times. I will never let her forget what she has done, and she will owe me dearly for the rest of her life. That is going to be how it is. So, people, this is how it all ends…!!

Well... Not quite!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marci stood and moved toward the door. She was softly crying as she stepped into the hallway. I called out, "Marci, come back and sit down."

Marci turned and looked at me. "Why, Eric, you don't want me anymore? I am a cheater and not worthy to be your wife and the mother of your children. I should go pack and leave." She turned and continued down the hall. I let her go.

I sat thinking. I had no plans. I only wanted our beautiful life back. A sudden thought entered my head. I looked through the envelopes and found the last three letters Marci had mailed Larry, which he had never read.

I opened the one written almost four months ago. 

Dear Larry,

It has been several months since we last communicated or saw each other. I hope you are doing well.

As this time passed, I thought for many hours about what we had done together over the past twenty years. Wow, has it been that long?

Our relationship is very different. We do not love each other, but we have a definite connection. Our times together are kin to a men's golf outing several times a year, but we do not play golf. We fuck each other for two days, making holes in one many times. That is a strange analogy, but that is how I see it.

We have never really been lovers. At least, I have never seen us that way. We have always been fuck buddies satisfying a wanton need we each have. It was all started by you and your demands on my family. I tried to end it years ago but had to save my sister from you again, and twenty years later, here we are. I tried to stop this a few years ago, but you never responded to the letter ending us; you ignored me. I wanted to end this. The strain on me was too much, and I knew what we were doing was wrong and could destroy my life. You clearly didn't see it that way and ignored my desire to stop.

You contacted me a few months later like nothing had happened, and like a fool, I met with you again, and it continued until today. Well, as of today, Larry, it is over now. I will not meet with or contact you again, but as we agreed years ago, you must accept my request to end and respond to me, conforming to our agreement.  

Please be prompt; I am waiting for your response.

Marci

I reread the letter. Marci had made it clear she wanted to quit a few months ago, but Larry had already passed away, so he never saw this letter. I quickly opened the second letter, which Marci had written a few weeks later. As I read the letter, I could hear the desperation in Marci's words: she had not heard from Larry and needed his confirmation of their relationship's ending. They must talk again to work out several issues and never communicate or see each other again. There was a plea from her that he please respond immediately.

I opened the third letter. Marci was a little miffed with Larry, so it was two sentences.

Larry, I do not know why you are ignoring me, but we are finished, and whether you write back or not, I will never see you again. I wish you a happy life. Marci

I thought about these three letters. What did they tell me? After reading each of them several times, it was clear that their relationship was friendly fire, with a lot of lust fueling it, but no love, just sex. They liked fucking each other, and their sexual exploits were to Marci like an outing, not a passionate love affair. They were 'Sport Fucking,' with no emotions except the moans, gasps, and orgasms as they serviced each other to their delight.  

I am sure the other letters were probably juicier and may have been more romantic, but that did not matter to me now. I knew that after all the years, Marci had never denied me sex and loved me and the family unconditionally. She had her weekend flings three times a year, which never impacted our lives. The affair was over in Marci's mind when she wrote the letter three years ago, but she did not follow through until she finally ended it four months ago, not knowing Larry had died.

After finishing reading the three letters a couple of times, I knew Marci loved me and that I could not let her leave. We had a lot of work to do, but she must remain my wife.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I quickly went to our bedroom to stop Marc from packing and leaving. I could not let her give up on us, thinking I had given up because I could not imagine living without Marci. And the kids, what would they do?

As I reached the door, I heard Marci sobbing. I looked in the room; Marci was on the bed, all balled up, shaking, and crying loudly.

I stood watching her, knowing the guilt she felt was creating terrible emotional pain. She thought she had destroyed our family and that I did not love her anymore. I would throw her out, divorce her, and her life would be over.

Yes, she had done a horrible thing, living a double life our entire marriage. But not once in all those years has she ever let her affair affect any part of our lives, until now when she was found out. If the affair had ended as Marci wanted three years ago, I would have never been the wiser, and our life would have gone on like it had every day for twenty years.

So, allowing my ego and Marci's guilt to take over and destroy our life together, which had never been affected one bit, makes no sense.

Once aging, I can hear the gnashing of teeth as you tighten your fists and scream at the device you are reading this on. You probably want to reach into the screen and shake me… "What then hell are you doing… BURN THE BITCH!"

Well, I can't… SO LOVE WINS!!!

Epilog…

Marci and I made love all the rest of that day and the next. I was beginning my quest to catch up on the sucks and fucks Marci owed me from the last twenty years. I figured if we fucked once a day and she sucked me at least once a day, it would take a couple of years to break even. Being a little caddie, I made up a tick sheet hanging on the linen closet door to keep track of our progress. Each one hundred acts was rewarded by a love weekend away and some serious ass fucking for three days.

Marci and I went to couples and individual counseling. I let her pick up the therapist. It helped Marci more than me, as her guilt ate her up. My love carried me through, and I could get over the ego since Larry was no longer a threat. He was FUCKING DEAD!

Our kids never knew about this, nor did anyone know that Anna and Maryland were sworn to complete silence.

As far as the world knows, we were just a happy couple, Marci and Eric, with two great kids living the dream.

Yep, that was it, “just living the dream!” And it was a damn wonderful dream at that!

It's been eight months now, and life is good. We still go to counseling separately, and I don't talk about Marci and me much anymore. Things are almost perfect. I never think of Larry and the affair now. It was like it never existed, except when I entered a tick mark on the sheet with a smile.

I do keep Dr. Andrews up to date on our scorecard. We started calculating that Marci and blown Larry at least a thousand times and fucked him probably fifty percent more times, so Marci owed me one thousand blow jobs and at least fifteen hundred fucks, of which twenty-five percent were ass fuckings. We are on an excellent pace to satisfy the count in about another year. If we didn't have the kids around, we could probably knock it out in another six or seven months. Those little trolls get in the way!

So there you have it. Life moves on as happy as ever.

Copyright © 2024 MaxxNRachelWrenn

All rights reserved. No part of this story can be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without written permission from the author. All characters are fictitious, and any similarity to actual people, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental unless otherwise stated.

This story contains mature material, strong language, and sexual situations for mature readers.

All characters depicted in this story participating in any sex act are of legal age, over 18 years old.