Chapter 2

I tried to open my eyes but they were so caked with dried tears it was difficult to do. I rubbed away some of the crusty residue from my lids and blinked several times trying wash the dried film from my vision. I was still dressed but my body felt cold and clammy; I could feel the damp pillow case under my cheek as I tried to get my bearings. I looked at the clock beside the bed and saw it was four in the morning; I lay there, trying to remember what day it was, it ... it was Saturday; that's when everything came flooding back to me and my eyes filled once again with the moisture of despair.

After several minutes I stumbled toward the washroom to rinse my face. As the cold water slowly brought me back to the living I started to recall more of the events from the day before. It was a little after five o'clock in the afternoon when hit the mattress; shit, I thought, I just slept for eleven hours; I must have been completely drained emotionally and didn't even realize it.

I wondered if Jean made it home after being released from jail. She had nowhere else to go at that hour unless she stayed in a motel but I thought I'd made it clear that she should come home; after all, we had the terms of the divorce to discuss, no sense putting it off; if we can act like two civilized people through the weekend and get things hashed out then I can see my attorney on Monday.

I took a quick shower and threw on some casual clothes. I checked the spare bedroom to see if she was in there but it hadn't been disturbed. I got a little worried but not like I normally would; she was a free agent now, or at least would be soon, it was not my job to worry about her anymore.

I walked down stairs to start a pot of coffee. As soon as I hit the last stair and turned the corner I saw her lying on the couch. I walked up and looked down on her; I'd never seen her look so bad. Not just her eyes but her entire face was red and puffy; her make-up was badly streaked and had dried in such a way it gave her the look of a very sad clown; her normally soft, auburn hair seemed darker and was matted from tears she shed while laying down, probably in her cell.

My God how I wanted to put my arms around her, smother her with kisses and tell her everything would be okay; instead I steeled in my resolve and continued to the kitchen to make the coffee.

I sat at the head of the table where I could look through the doorway and see her. I think she was having bad dreams because every once in a while her arm would jerk violently or she'd let out with a small yell.

I was on my third cup and still hadn't had a coherent thought. I needed a distraction; I looked out the window and saw the earliest hint of dawn peaking in. There was a park with a pretty little lake only a few blocks away; I had been there many times but never at sunrise; I grabbed a camera and headed that way on foot, I just needed time to think.

It turned out to be an extremely productive morning. By the time the sun first crested I had already picked out the locations from which to shoot and got several scenic shots of the early morning sun dancing along the water and through the trees.

About the time I was getting ready to go back home I saw two soccer teams suiting up at the other end of the park. I spent the next hours getting some great actions shots. I gave my card to both coaches and told them if they contacted me I would send them a proof sheet of what I had; between the coaches wanting shots for the team and the individual players wanting shots for themselves, I had no doubt I would make several hundred dollars from the morning's effort.

I was headed out of the park when I saw Judy Anderson, she lived a couple streets away from us; I had heard she was pregnant but hadn't seen her to congratulate her. I guess my information was correct because she was walking behind a baby buggy.

"Judy," I called as I approached, "Congratulations on your gift from God," I said looking into the buggy.

"Hi Dalton, thank you so much," she said proudly.

"Is it a he or a she?"

"It's a he, Stephen Gregory," she answered, "he'll be three weeks tomorrow."

"He's absolutely beautiful," I said; of course seeing her with her newborn son only reminded me of what I had lost. Even before we were married I dreamed of Jean and I being proud parents, now it didn't look as if that was ever going to happen.

"Judy, the sun is still pretty low, great for portraits, would you like a couple shots of you and Stephen; on the house, no charge?"

"Oh, Dalton, would you?" she asked getting excited.

"Absolutely, why don't we go over to that tree, you sit at the base of it with him in your arms; is that okay?"

"Anything you say, you're the photographer," she said with even more enthusiasm.

I picked a nice grassy spot where the sun would shine on her back, highlighting her blond hair and the outer edges of her body. I added just enough flash to even out any harsh shadows and took one of the nicest shots I'd taken in a long time. I got off only two exposures though before little Stephen started to fidget.

"He's probably hungry," his mother said. "I guess we'll have to go home, I'd be too embarrassed to feed him here," she said with a smile.

"Huh, why would you be embarrassed?" I asked not thinking.

"Well I breast feed," she said a little shyly.

"Oh hell, Judy, there's no one around except for those guys," I motioned at the soccer players, "and they're too far away to see anything; just throw a diaper over you, that's all; I'll take off and give you some privacy," I told her.

"Ah, before you go ... I ... ah, well..."

It was very obvious she was wanted to say something but was either too shy or scared to say it. "Yes," I said drawing out the word and trying to joke a little.

"Well, you know what I've always liked?" I shook my head no, "Those pictures of mothers nursing their babies," she finally said.

"You want a shot nursing little Stephen?" I asked trying not to show my own embarrassment. Judy was younger than Jean and I; maybe twenty-three or twenty-four. She and her husband were practically newlyweds when bought their house a couple years ago. She was stone-cold gorgeous and I was trying to keep from getting a hard-on from just thinking about getting a look at her breasts.

She looked up at me bashfully, "Would you mind?"

"No, not at all; I'll turn my back until you get ready." I heard her moving around a little.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said.

I tuned around to find Stephen in his mother's arms sucking away. The problem was she had on a big, heavy white nursing bra that killed the mood of the shot. I took a couple of exposures but knew it wasn't what she really wanted.

I just came out and said it, "Judy, your bra is ruining the shot. I know the kind of picture you're looking for, and to be honest, that nursing bra isn't working.

She looked down at it, "Yeah, I see what you mean," she suddenly looked up at me with a shocked face. "You want me to take it off?" she asked sounding surprised.

I just gave a little shrug with my shoulders, "I'm not trying to be a pervert but if you want a natural looking shot the bra has to go," I told her.

She hesitated but only for a few seconds, "Here," she said offering the baby to me, "Could you hold Stephen while I take it off?"

I'll tell you what; if someone would have told me when I left the house, that I'd be holding a baby while his good-looking mother was taking her bra off for me, I would have laughed in their face, but there I was, holding this precious little person in my arms while silently praying I would have one of my own someday.

When she was ready I gave the child back to his mother; she pulled him to her breast where the little tyke vigorously started to feed; in the meantime, a warm, yellow glow from the morning sun shown like a halo on the angelic couple. The light penetrating the thin material of her blouse was just enough to accentuate the focal point of the shot ... namely, the newborn baby nursing on the soft, round breast containing his mother's milk.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonderment as I looked through the view finder at nature's most amazing gift ... the gift of life. As I told Judy after the shots, I'd been a professional photographer for twenty years; I'd taken thousands of photographs, but never had I taken one as beautiful as that.

I asked if she thought her husband would mind if I gave them a framed sixteen-twenty that they could hang; she had tears of joy in her eyes as she thanked me graciously and told me she and her husband would be honored with such a gift.

On the way back to my house I was absorbed with what I had just witnessed; will I ever be blessed like that, I wondered; will I ever feel the elation of holding my own child? A cold chill came over me as feared to answer.

When I got back to the house I saw Jean through the patio doors, she turned when she heard me walk in; I could see she had showered but had on no make-up; her face was still a trifle puffy but she looked a little more like my wife than she did earlier. "Hello, Dalton," she said almost breaking down already as she spoke. "I ... I drank the rest of the coffee, I'll have more for you in just a couple minutes. Have you had breakfast?" she asked with a voice that was barely audible.

"No, why don't you make us some eggs, then we have to talk," I said walking through the kitchen on the way to my office. I took a few minutes to look through all the shots I'd just taken and arranged them for editing later. Jean was just setting the table when I returned; her whole body was literally trembling.

Except for a few sobs from Jean, breakfast was a pretty quiet affair. When we were done I put the dishes in the washer, poured us more coffee and sat back down.

"Dalton," she started just scarcely being able to talk, "I know..." she started to cry, "oh my God, I'm so very sorry," she blubbered looking down and not being able to look me in the eye, "I'm so, so sorry; please ... please tell me, honey, I beg your forgiveness, please; I don't want to lose you; it was stupid, I'm so sorry," she said just before completely breaking down.

As badly as my heart had been broken, there was still a piece of it that beat just for her; I got up and brought her a box of tissues then stood beside her for a moment; the loving husband in me wanted to hold her, comfort her; but the wounded husband in me, the one bearing so much pain just wouldn't let me; without saying a word I walked back to me seat and watched while she tried to gain some control.

She knew from my reaction to her plea; she was drying her eyes, "It's not going to happen, is it, there's no chance for us is there?" she asked still looking down.

"I'm afraid not, Jean; I'm sorry; when I first saw you and Irv together I thought I was going to die; I had never been so devastated by anything in my life; I won't say I don't still love you because I do, but it's a crippled love, it can no longer function; I could never make love to the person who has hurt me as deeply as you have."

Still wiping her tears she just nodded her head accepting what she'd already known; the man she loved so entirely wanted out of her life and her out of his.

"I knew when you had us arrested that you were telling me then already that it was over; I was so scared, I didn't even understand what we were being arrested for at first, but when that police woman informed me of my rights and told me what the charges were I knew I had lost the man I love," she whimpered.

I was having a pretty hard time of my own. I had to ask the question but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer. "Why, Jean; damn it we've been so fucking happy together, we were so right for each other, why would you do this to us; what did I do to deserve this?" I said unsuccessfully fighting back tears again.

"Oh God, Dalton, you didn't do anything to deserve this, absolutely nothing, darling; this was stupidity on my part, it's as simple as that," she said emphatically." You saw me in that motel room; he had me tied up; it was all about the bondage thing, I was curious, that's all, curious and to damn embarrassed to talk to you about it."

"I don't get it; you were too embarrassed to talk to me but not Irv Peterson; damn it, why would you feel more comfortable talking to him over your own husband, it doesn't make sense? Did he talk you into it?" I'm sure by this time Jean could see the anger building in my face.

"No, he didn't talk me into it ... not exactly, but he was already into that kind of thing," she said then changed her mind, "well ... not into it exactly, but he fantasized about it; I..." she seemed frustrated by not being able to explain herself, she was fidgeting with a tissue, "Do you remember when Irv and I went to that lighting convention down town?"

"Geez, that was almost a year ago, you guys have doing this since then?" I asked clinching my fist.

She was shaking her head, "No, no ... not really..."

I jumped up from the table in anger, "What do you mean, 'not really, ' Jean, c'mon, either it did or it didn't?"

She flinched from my outburst, "We had a conversation, that's all, we talked about it but we didn't do anything for several months," she quickly inserted.

"Irv left me by myself in our booth on the convention floor for a while; I wasn't sure where he was and I had left my phone in the room that he rented as a home base. I was talking to a guy who I thought was a potential client, a big one, but he was asking questions I couldn't answer. I finally asked if he had a couple minutes to wait so I could go up the room and see if Irv was there. When I got into the room Irv was nowhere to be found but his laptop was on the table, so I figured I could get the answers to the guy's questions myself." I finally sat back down in my chair and tried to get ahold of myself as I listened.

"The laptop was in stand-by mode and when I opened it this bondage website popped up. I was stunned at first but when I looked at all the pictures of those women tied up ... but then, I don't know, something happened; I'm ashamed to admit it but I got so horny I couldn't believe it; I started clicking on the thumbnails to make the pictures bigger; some of the girls were fully dressed but others were completely naked; they were tied up in all kinds of different poses, a few had pictures of the rope going between the girl's legs, literally right through her pussy, I was just seconds away from starting to rub myself when Irv walked in; his face turned bright red when he realized what I was looking at; I would guess my face was probably just as red." She stopped again when she felt herself losing it; she wiped some new tears away and continued.

"Anyway, I tried to lighten the mood a little; I jokingly asked him if that's what he and Marge did when the kids were asleep? After stammering all over the place he said it was just one of his fantasies but Marge knew nothing about it. I guess I looked a little surprised cause then he said, 'I might as well tell you, I'm just a pervert at heart, ' then he chuckled. I let it drop and told him about the guy waiting in our booth. When I came home that night I wanted so bad to talk to you about maybe trying a little bondage but I was so embarrassed I couldn't bring myself to do it. I remembered what Irv said about being a pervert and I didn't want you to think badly of me, so I just tried to forget about it for a while." Her hand was shaking as she took another sip of coffee.

"The problem was, my interest was piqued; I started looking at some bondage sites myself and every time I did my panties would get soaked. I tried to figure out ways I could drop little hints for you, I even thought about leaving my computer like Irv did his, but you would have no reason to look at my computer unless I asked you to and then it would be too obvious; I must have tried to bring up the subject a dozen times but chickened out every time." Jean took another tissue and blew her nose; she was still having a tough time of it.

"Then one day we were in Irv's office working on some purchase orders and I asked him if he'd ever done any bondage; he told me once, when he was in college; he had gone with a girl for a couple of months who was into it. He said he loved it, but then she dumped him for another guy and he met Marge who was pretty straight laced so he just kept it as a fantasy all these years but that was it. He asked me if you and I did anything like that and I told him no; I said I'd never even thought about any kind of bondage until I saw it on his computer. We talked a little more and he got me to admit I wouldn't mind trying it, just once. He asked me if I discussed it with you; I said no, I was just too embarrassed. He said he had the same problem, 'hell, if I told Marge that I wanted to tie her up she'd probably hit me over the head with a frying pan, ' he said with a laugh." She took another sip of coffee and seemed to be calming down a little as she went on.

"That's when Irv came up with his brilliant idea; he said since we were both interested in experimenting, and we were both too shy to talk about it with our spouses, why not try it together. At first I said absolutely not, that would be cheating but he assured me we'd both keep out clothes on. It'd be fun, he said, he'd simply tie me up, at the worst maybe he'd feel my breasts through my blouse just to give me that helpless feeling while giving him the feeling of power at the same time. I again told him no way but he kept after me; finally, after a few weeks of saying no, I gave in and told him okay, but only if we both kept our clothes on." Jean stood up to get another cup of coffee; she held up the pot asking me if I wanted more with a silent gesture. She poured me a cup then went back to telling her story.

"For a long time that's all we did; I kept my clothes on and Irv would tie me up in different positions; sometimes he'd feel my leg or my breast, maybe my ass but we didn't do anything more than that. Then he said he couldn't really tie me the way he wanted with all my clothes and asked me to strip down to my panties and bra. I was so nervous, I knew it was wrong but I got so damned hot whenever he tied me up I thought it would be even hotter if I was half naked. We did it like that for a couple months but Irv was getting a little more aggressive each time. About a month ago he had me hog tied on the bed. He had me blindfolded, and for the first time, had me gagged too. I was completely helpless. That's when Irv reached around and unhooked my bra; he pulled down my arms and completely exposed my breasts; I tried screaming at him to stop but he kept going. Next he pulled my panties down and started fingering me. I was livid, but God help me, at the same time I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life."

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered wiping her eyes again, "I knew right then we had gone too far and I should stop it but I just couldn't; I made him promise never to force himself inside of me, but even then I wondered what it would be like to be tied up and raped. Last week, when we were done, we talked about a compromise; he would tie me up and force me to give him a blow job; yesterday, he was just telling me to open my mouth when you guys came in; his cock never even touched my lips."

She looked me in the eye for the first time all morning, "I don't suppose that means anything?" she asked, "The fact that he never did penetrate me; we never fucked, Dalton, never," she said hopefully.

I wished I could give her the answer she was looking for, but unfortunately there was no way. I had to look away as I cleared the escaping tear from my cheek; it was hard to talk, hard to get the words out.

"But from what you've told me, Jean, it would have happened. I mean you started out fully clothed, and what, within four or five months you had progressed to giving him a blow job. You said he'd force you but you know that's a lie; you were play acting, you were going to blow him willingly, fucking him would have been next, Jean; it was just a matter of time, you know it and I know it."

She opened her mouth to say something; I assume she was about to assure me that wouldn't have happened but I wasn't buying it. I shook my head and held up my hand simultaneously, "Jean, it doesn't make any difference anyway; I can't forgive what you've done. I know you didn't mean for me to find out, but I did, and the truth is, I've never been so hurt in my entire life. Every time I tried to hold you in my arms or kiss you it would bring back the pain; I'm sorry, babe, but there is just no future left for us."

Once again she broke down and started sobbing; it was tearing my heart out; I had to get out of there. I went upstairs and lay down on the bed; I stared at the ceiling while a few tears trickled down the sides of my face. Imagining my future without Jean was something I never thought I would have to do and it wasn't much fun. I guess I must have lay there fifteen or twenty minute before Jean walked in.

"I'll pack some things and go stay with my folks," she said despondently. "I'm so sorry for what I've, Dalton; I love you with all my heart, please believe that."

I didn't respond at first; in my mind I asked myself how could that be; how could someone hurt the person they love so badly? I took a deep sigh, "I still don't see how you could talk to someone like Irv about sex and not me, your own husband; how can you love me with all your heart as you claim and betray me like that, it just doesn't make sense to me Jean; I'm supposed to be your sex partner, not him."

"It ... it was just something I wanted to try; I wasn't even sure I would like it and I just couldn't take the chance ... not until I was sure anyway. I thought I'd try it just a little bit and if I liked it, then I'd tell you and see if you'd be open to trying it. The problem was I did like it, but I still couldn't bring myself to talk to you; we had never talked about doing anything like that and I was just so afraid you would think badly of me; it was easier to just keep doing it with Irv; there was no risk that way ... at least I didn't think there was. I kept thinking, one of these days I'd muster the courage to tell you about my fantasy, then I would cut it off with Irv..." She started crying again. "Oh my darling, I'm so sorry."