19-04-2019, 10:46 PM
part18
Over the next few weeks we gradually returned to regular sex. It wasn't that great, to tell the truth. We were still both very serious, careful, as self-conscious as two people doing a love-making instructional video. We gave each other pleasure, we had orgasms, we enjoyed it—but we didn't come close to finding the uninhibited joy we had once taken in each other.
Partly there must have been images of Carrie in Marianne's mind, but most of all I think Marianne and I were both afraid of the same thing: my anger. It was in bed that my rage about her affair was most acute; and though I never acted on those feelings they were often present. If she took my cock in her mouth, I heard her saying to Eddie "God, it's so big, and so hard, and so beautiful! Let me suck on it", and my fists clenched.
If I was going down on her, enjoying her groans and her hip motions as she urged me onward, I heard her saying "Oh, Eddie, nobody does me like you do!"
If I slid into her, in the missionary position or from behind, my favorite, I could hear her eagerly say to him "I want your beautiful dick inside me." And I had to endure it, I had to carry on. Because the alternative was to yank my own dick out of her and stalk out of the room.
One night after we had made love I was lying on my back, propped up against the pillows, staring out at nothing. Marianne looked at me and said, "Tom. I am so very sorry for the things you heard me say to Eddie. I can apologize for the rest of my life, and I know it will never be enough. But YOU are the best lover I have ever had. It's YOUR arms I want around me, your body I want next to mine, and your beautiful penis I want inside me. I am just so, so sorry...."
She stopped talking, and snuggled up against me. I held her, stroking her back. Some things just can't be dealt with in words.
**********
In mid-October Marianne and I took our weeklong trip, to St. Thomas in the Caribbean. She had bought a lot of new clothes. I hoped that the new things included some new lingerie, because I loved the sight of her in slinky or transparent or just too-short nightwear; but she kept her new purchases safely hidden until we got to the island
Over the next few weeks we gradually returned to regular sex. It wasn't that great, to tell the truth. We were still both very serious, careful, as self-conscious as two people doing a love-making instructional video. We gave each other pleasure, we had orgasms, we enjoyed it—but we didn't come close to finding the uninhibited joy we had once taken in each other.
Partly there must have been images of Carrie in Marianne's mind, but most of all I think Marianne and I were both afraid of the same thing: my anger. It was in bed that my rage about her affair was most acute; and though I never acted on those feelings they were often present. If she took my cock in her mouth, I heard her saying to Eddie "God, it's so big, and so hard, and so beautiful! Let me suck on it", and my fists clenched.
If I was going down on her, enjoying her groans and her hip motions as she urged me onward, I heard her saying "Oh, Eddie, nobody does me like you do!"
If I slid into her, in the missionary position or from behind, my favorite, I could hear her eagerly say to him "I want your beautiful dick inside me." And I had to endure it, I had to carry on. Because the alternative was to yank my own dick out of her and stalk out of the room.
One night after we had made love I was lying on my back, propped up against the pillows, staring out at nothing. Marianne looked at me and said, "Tom. I am so very sorry for the things you heard me say to Eddie. I can apologize for the rest of my life, and I know it will never be enough. But YOU are the best lover I have ever had. It's YOUR arms I want around me, your body I want next to mine, and your beautiful penis I want inside me. I am just so, so sorry...."
She stopped talking, and snuggled up against me. I held her, stroking her back. Some things just can't be dealt with in words.
**********
In mid-October Marianne and I took our weeklong trip, to St. Thomas in the Caribbean. She had bought a lot of new clothes. I hoped that the new things included some new lingerie, because I loved the sight of her in slinky or transparent or just too-short nightwear; but she kept her new purchases safely hidden until we got to the island
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