You Can't Handle the Truth
Copyright© 2026 by SummitMan
Chapter 2
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A man is betrayed by his wife which he discovers in a brutal fashion. He leaves her to rebuild his life without her. The story also tracks what happens to the wife.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Reluctant Fiction Cheating Slut Wife Humiliation
“It’s good to see you again, Claire and Jack,” Gerald said, gesturing us toward our respective armchairs.
I looked at the chairs with renewed interest, thinking that having armchairs rather than a couch for the couples in counselling removed any issues about sitting next to each other. I sat down with only a mild tremor of trepidation, thinking about Claire’s last comment before we drove in. Irrespective of what she revealed, at least I knew her true feelings for me.
After a few preliminary welcomes, Gerald got right to the point. “Claire, as you know we spent last week discussing Jack’s concerns, which revolved around the lack of physical intimacy between you two. He brought up several examples to illustrate his concerns, but I am most interested in going back to the beginning. Jack described how your sexual intimacy began to decline several months into your marriage and related that you basically said that you were not really interested in sex. Can you go back to the beginning and tell us your view of your sexual situation with Jack?”
Claire looked uncomfortable, then almost sheepish. “Well, I lied about my interest in sex. I actually like it quite a bit.”
I felt a jolt of unease. This was the first time I’d heard anything like that, and it confirmed my suspicion that she always controlled a conversation, never wavering from her story. This first statement alone contradicted twenty years of intimate conversations.
Claire assumed a pensive look. “Honestly, I simply don’t enjoy sex with Jack.” She looked at me, “You are not very good in bed. Love making consists of a couple of minutes of foreplay then you climb on top and push your cock into my barely lubricated vagina. And then when you are done after few minutes, you give me a hug, climb off, and fall asleep. Sex with you is unfulfilling.”
The world seemed to cave in. My heart hammered so hard it felt like the room should have heard it. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I couldn’t move.
Claire continued, “Unfortunately, you haven’t improved over the years. I would have thought that you would get better, that you would learn what I liked and didn’t like, but that hasn’t happened. You approach me after twenty years the same way you did when we first got married. And go to sleep.”
I sat there unable to speak and looked at Gerald for help. He, too, looked stunned. I supposed even he hadn’t been prepared for this much unvarnished truth.
Gerald recovered first. “Um. All right. I can see that you felt you weren’t getting much enjoyment out of sex, but why didn’t you discuss this with Jack? Surely if you wanted things to improve, you would have brought it up?”
Claire assumed a look of embarrassment. I could have sworn she even blushed. “Well. Umm. I probably would have discussed this with Jack, but fate intervened.” Both Gerald and I looked at her uncertainly, not sure what she was talking about.
“I took on a lover.” She said.
Nausea rose in my throat. It took me a few seconds to get control of myself, and when I did, I forced my face into a blank mask.
Gerald shot me a concerned look. “We can stop here if you’d like a moment.”
I shook my head hard. “No. Let’s continue.”
I looked at Claire. “Sorry to interrupt. Please go on.”
“It happened about three months after we got married. Jack had to go to Orlando for a week for one of his conferences. I didn’t mind; I knew I’d married a star. I had a good job and would do well enough, but Jack was going places. I loved him and wanted to go wherever his life took him.
“Anyway, Jack had to fly out midweek for ten days, so I had Friday free. I had to work that night, though—it was a university fundraiser, and I had to be there to schmooze potential donors. They seated me next to an assistant professor from the business faculty. His name was Jim Mitchell. He stood when I arrived, and, although I don’t usually notice these things, he was tall and very good-looking. Honestly, he looked ripped. I’d probably had a bit too much to drink by dinner, and he looked better and better as the evening went on. He paid close attention to me the whole time, and by dessert he was touching my arm when he spoke.”
“I don’t think anything would have happened if there hadn’t been dancing after dinner. I’ve always liked ballroom dancing, and he was wonderful at it. He was so strong. I felt like a doll in his hands. He made me feel small. Fragile. And then I brushed up against him during a turn, and I realized he was packing something huge in his trousers.”
As she spoke, lost in the memory, a flush spread over her face and throat, and I could see her nipples stiffen beneath her bra. Bitterness surged through me. I could rarely get her this heated up, and here she was, reacting to a memory of another man.
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