John paced slowly and thoughtfully in his living room just a few feet from where his wife, Ruth, sat reading a book. Ruth could sense the turmoil in his mind, both from the nervous pacing and heavy sighing. She was dreading the conversation she knew was coming and the impact it would have on their lives. She sat waiting, dreading, only pretending to read.
John turned to her finally with his own dread pounding in his head and said, "Ruth... ?" She looked up at him and held her breath, raising her eye brows in mute inquiry. "Ruth, I need to talk to you and I hope you can hear me out before you react to what I'm about to say".
"Oh God!" she thought. She had been anticipating this for over a month but just realized she was not really ready to hear it, not ready to have her life changed forever. She let out her breath heavily and simply said, "Ok, John". She put her book in her lap and held it tensely.
John sat slowly on the couch with her about a foot away turning as much as possible towards her, laid his big paw on top of her dainty hand and said, "I haven't been a very good husband to you lately. I have done things I am not proud of and I have dishonored you. I mean to change that as of now if you can let me."
Hope sprang into Ruth's consciousness, tinged with a bit of anger and sorrow. Emotions she had not allowed herself to feel over the past long, difficult month. "Are we talking about your affair with Gina Laslowe or something else?" she said with more bite in the tone than she wanted to show.
John blanched slightly, dropped his eyes and whispered, "Fuck. When... ? How... ? How long have you known?"
"Over a month." she said flatly. "For the past 21 years, you'd put on your police uniform and walk out that door and I'd wonder if this was the day you wouldn't come home because some drugged up shit-head killed you. For the past month, I wondered if this was the day you'd walk out that door and not return because you decided to move on with Gina. I don't know which is worse. I actually thought of killing you myself so I guess the second scenario was worse in my mind."
"Oh, Ruth how do I begin to even say how sorry I am? I have called it off ... as of yesterday. We were going to meet up this afternoon and I called her and said it was over and I wouldn't see her again and I meant it. I promise you I will never, ever, ever do anything like that again... ! Please, can you forgive me? ... and I know I have some real work to do to get you back completely and I am prepared to do whatever you want me to do. Even ... fuck, I don't even want to say it ... even if it means giving you up and not fighting your divorce terms. You decide. You're in the driver's seat. Tell me. Want me dead? Just say the word and I'll eat my revolver."
Ruth reflected for a bit and then said coolly, "I want you dead. But, please do it somewhere where I won't have to clean up the mess -- blood is soooo hard to get out of good carpeting."
John's eyes widened, "Are ... are you fuckin' kidding me?"
Ruth looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, "See. One should not be making ridiculous offers to a wronged woman. One might find oneself having to live up to promises one may not want to keep ... No, dumbass I don't want you killing yourself, but I am keeping the 'I might kill you myself option open'." Ruth extended her right hand and studied the back of it thoughtfully. "I do see diamonds in my near future; however."
A wry smile crossed John's face. "Damn, she is amazing. Even under the worst of situations she can find something to ease the tension and joke about it. I absolutely love this woman." As those thoughts ran through his head, his demeanor softened but the guilt of his betrayal resounded with a thundering vengeance. How could he have done this to her, his love, his partner?
Ruth suddenly got very serious and her voice was low and hard. "John, for the past few weeks I have cried over you, got depressed because of you, hated you, been sick about you, grieved for us and me and still ... I love you. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! How could you do this to me? To us ... to ME!!!?" She was crying, no, sobbing now and her small fists thumped on his chest. John pulled her close and held her as she sobbed.
His eyes filled with tears, his body shaking with the force of his own emotion. He rocked her gently and kept repeating, "I am so sorry ... so sorry..."
She continued to sob, and periodically hit him with her clenched fists saying, "you broke your promise ... broke your promise..."
The minutes ticked by as they sobbed together, clinging to each other tightly for mutual support for perhaps the first time in several months. But they were in it together. Together they would find a way through this and come out on the other side. They continued to rock and cling and sob for seeming hours, with the occasional jab to the ribs and chest from small, angry fists.
The road to THEM would prove to be long and rocky. Outbursts of rage, accusations and name calling were pretty common fare from Ruth. Sullen, guilt ridden apologies and being attentive to Ruth's every whim was the soup of John's daily existence. They never didn't share the same bed. Ruth reasoned that she had slept with him when she knew about his "whoring around" -- before his confession and she couldn't see why she wouldn't sleep with him now. "Plus, ", she told him, "It's easier to keep tabs on you if I can see you." She often wore her sexiest night gowns and even went as far as buying VERY sexy attire to wear to bed but made it clear that sleeping was all they would be doing in that bed until she decided differently. After showering she would stand in the bedroom with every light on drying off. Displaying her luscious nude form to full effect -- something she had never done before. She wore perfume and makeup to bed with the sole purpose of driving John mad with lust and desire. She would play sensuous music at various times of the day and do slow undulating stripteases before John's wide eyes and open mouth and then redress to resume whatever chore she had been involved in.
Damn, she could be very cruel. John seemed to walk around with a permanent erection during this horribly frustrating and seemingly endless "dry" spell. Ruth took to calling John at odd, unpredictable times during his work day to check on his whereabouts and would even call other police officers who worked the same shift and ask them to have John take the call at their desk to insure John really was where he said he would be. To say John was on a very short leash was an understatement but he took to the process with a resignation that this was his price of admission back into Ruth's heart. He even took the constant ribbing from his shift mates with stoic grace even chiding them on the fact that this could be them or worse if they ever strayed. He was learning his lesson.
One night about 2 ½ months after his "confession" John awakened slowly to find Ruth straddling his midsection rocking feverishly and panting heavily. He felt the exquisite sensation of his rock hard cock being massaged by the hot, soaking silkiness of Ruth's frantic pussy. Through his sleepy and confused state he wasn't sure how to react. Should he participate or would awareness that he was awake and enjoying this cause her to quit and trigger a continuation of his dry spell? He waited until he heard the sounds from her that always signaled the beginnings of her orgasm. He loved and so missed those sounds: heavy panting followed by little squeals and leading finally to her heavy gasp and a single groan always through clenched teeth. He almost cried for joy. Once the squeals started, John sat up abruptly, bear hugging her rib cage tightly and sucking madly on one and then the other hard and protruding nipple.
Ruth's responsed with "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!, Jesus, John! Yesssss, yesss ohhhh ... shit yesssssss" She started then to squeal sharply, gasped 3 times and screamed through clenched teeth. John held her through her release and then flipped her over on her back and began to plow into her quivering satiny wetness with all the force his 6 foot frame could generate. Ruth continued to balance on the knife edge of complete release for some time again and finally went over the top repeating her previous response to their fervent joining. John this time was not far behind firing his long pent up juices deep into her body's center.
The only thought John's stupified brain could muster was, "beautiful ... fuckin' beautiful".
After catching their breath and coming down from their frenzied sexual high, Ruth finally held his face in her hands tightly, She looked John square in the eye, her blazing green eyes even visible in the extreme low light of the darkened bedroom and said with a voice cracking with emotion, "You are mine, you fucking son of a bitch! All mine and don't you ever forget that again. If you ever, ever cheat on me again I will, I swear, nail your dick to my bedpost and send the rest of you packing. Is that clear you stupid bastard!!!" She hit both of his shoulders with her fists for punctuation.
John slid his rough hand across the side of her dampened face, kissed her lips very gently and whispered, "Yes, yes my love. I am yours ... always. I promise ... Thank you, thank you. Oh shit, what a fool I was ... never, never again. I swear, I swear, I swear." They settled into a soft embrace in quiet thought of where they had been, what they nearly lost and where their road would lead from here. John kissed the top of Ruth's head and stroked her back gently. This was heaven. He thanked all that he held sacred for this moment and what it foretold.
.... There is more of this story ...