Gina at this point finally brought me back to reality. It goes without saying; level headedness left me the night she took her bikini bottom off in front of several young men during that card game. As I stood there staring at her waiting for her to drop a profound statement on me, she leaned back against the wall and simply began staring at the ceiling, when after a few seconds she calmly said, “Scott… This has been the wildest experience we have ever had, of that I’m sure. We’ll probably never behave this fucking insane ever again… But know… it’s done. It’s now over and I’m not doing it anymore.”
She paused for a second or two when she stared right into my eyes and said, “Scott, when we were experimenting and I was indiscriminately being fucked God knows how many times now, it really was exciting and I’ve actually enjoyed most of it, trying to fulfill every fantasy you ever had, and maybe one or two of my own, but if you’ll open your beautiful eyes for half a second, you might notice than Stan and I stopped fucking a while back. He’s now making love to me. My moral foundation is fucking unraveling every time I’m with him now.”
She continued, and by this time had my full attention, “Did you think I could continue being intimate with you and two other guys and human nature not eventually take over? Women aren’t like men when it comes to that. Yes, it was just nasty sex in the beginning, but you need to know that it has become more, and well, I don’t feel comfortable with how Stan is behaving, and I don’t feel comfortable with how I’m feeling about it. I feel myself becoming ok with it, and that’s not how married women are supposed to feel about another man. Somehow I think we’ve misplaced our marriage vows somewhere between here and Ohio, and I want them back.”
It’s amazing how sometimes the most obvious is so incredibly obscure when you are so driven by such a powerful experience. As every word left her lips I became stupefied that not only was she clearly speaking facts, I actually saw it, and yet didn’t see it.
She continued to sternly lay it out for me saying, “Listen to me, Scott. We can’t stay here another night whatsoever. Here I am a married woman and making love to another man. That’s not what I signed up for when we took our vows.”
She then gave an example that wrapped up perfectly her already perfect moral synopsis saying, “Try imagining us being in a room with two attractive twenty-one year old females, with you fucking them both time after time, after time. Once you get past the sex for a second, you might realize that it’s possible that you could begin to develop feelings for one of them, and married people don’t do that, Scott. I certainly don’t like the feelings I’ve had here recently.”
Feeling like a bionic jackass by now, I walked over and pulled her to me apologizing to the maximum. We hugged and held each other for at least five minutes. I began telling her how much I loved her and continued apologizing for pushing the situation and the fact that I purposely kept it going with no regard for her feelings whatsoever.
The reality of what she was saying was crystal clear. I’m sure it would have been different if we hadn’t kept it going. Several times I did notice them overtly caressing one another as they made love, passionately kissing, caressing, and holding onto one other. When this all started, they simply fucked and when it was over, it was over. But in hindsight, if I had snapped into reality for a second, I would have noticed that it truly did develop into more than sexual intercourse between her and Stan.
As she explained her position, it was like a light bulb went off in my mind. I think it was more of a situation where I basically ignored it, choosing to keep the experience going rather than face facts. But the writing was clearly on the wall, and she was right.
Gina then said she was going to take a much needed shower and off she went. Not more than a few minutes after emerging from the shower, she began packing our things and, within thirty minutes, we were in our car driving home. She was utterly exhausted as she curled up in the passenger seat and fell fast asleep. She slept for six hours straight barely moving at all. I too was flat smoked and barely able to keep my eyes open as I drove, but I continued, thinking that if I just got us back home, we would somehow be back to normal.
It took many hours getting back home, but after consuming what I’m sure equaled three gallons of coffee, we made it.
I thought it might be weeks before she and I made love again after how many times she had intimate intercourse with me and the young men we had met, but a few hours after arriving at our home, we both rubbed up against one another as we passed in the hallway, and instantly began violently grabbing and tearing at one another taking our clothes off. We just dropped right in the hallway and had the wildest animalistic sex we had ever had in our home.
I’m sure some have skydived, bungee jumped, driven a Lamborghini 200 mph, or even flown on the space shuttle, but they never experienced what Gina and I did during last year’s vacation.
I can’t tell you how many times we’ve discussed that vacation since. Funny thing is though; we’ve never got more than a few minutes into the conversation before we both wildly begin sexually attacking one another.
We discussed trying it again next vacation, but every time we get worked up we find ourselves fucking. Somehow we always come to our senses telling ourselves, “It was a one time experiment. It was a one in a trillion series of events that fell into place. Our marriage is still intact, and we’d like to keep it that way. Why on earth would we risk anything else?”
Yes, we always talk the good talk, but who am I kidding? The power of that experience will never leave our minds, and inevitably the tumblers will someday fall into place again… and I’m certain neither of us will be strong enough to fight it.