Summary: MILF returns to her son and they test the 24 hour limit.
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In the car, I pondered how to have the conversation I needed to have with my husband.
The past three days had been an escape from reality… as bizarre as that sounds.
Fucking my son over and over while my husband was oblivious to the entire thing was exhilarating and life-altering… but now I had to deal with the consequences of my reckless behavior. My actions of the past three days had awakened my sexual libido and made me realize I didn’t love my husband as a husband.
Yes, he was a great man.
Yes, I loved him as a man.
I just didn’t love him as a lover.
We drove in silence for fifteen minutes, as I tried to figure out what to say. Casual conversation was usually my strength, while Alex could drive for hours without saying a word other than singing a tune or asking me musical trivia. He loved asking me who sang the song that was playing. I almost never knew. He would then give me a brief history of the band. Sometimes I googled his answers and he was always right.
But casual conversation was far from what was needed here. It was obvious, at least to me, that the divide in our marriage was right here… within the open space between our seats.
To my astonishment, it was Alex who spoke up out of nowhere and broached the subject I’d had no idea he was even aware of: “So how long have you been fucking our son?”
I felt my face pale as it only took moments for me to absorb that he knew.
How long had he known?
“A week, a month, a year?” he listed as he drove. He didn’t look at me. Oddly, his tone didn’t include anger or shock, just interest.
“Just during this trip,” I admitted.
“Did you enjoy it?”
What a tough question! The answer was obviously yes. But admitting the truth could hurt him even more than I already had. Yet I couldn’t lie to him, he deserved the truth. “Yes, I did.”
“And is that why you don’t want to do everything we’ve been planning for the past eight months?” he continued.
“Yes, it is,” I again admitted.
“And now what?”
“The truth?”
He looked at me for the first time, with an ironic glint in his eye. “No, keep lying to me.”
There it finally was, in his tone and in his eyes… the hurt I had caused him.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” I said instead.
“For what?” he asked. “Fucking our son in the back seat or fucking our son in the bed right next to me?”
I hoped he only knew about those two times, somehow that made it not quite as bad as it could be. But even if he knew everything it wouldn’t change anything basic, it would just be toxic icing on a terminal cake.
Yet I tried to explain. “I have no idea how it happened. But once it did, it awakened a side of me I’ve always kept under wraps. And after that, I couldn’t control myself.”
He sighed.
The gap between us widened.
“Have you ever cheated on me before?” he asked after a long silence.
“No,” I answered. “I never even considered cheating; wasn’t ever tempted.”
Again silence.
Then he sighed.
More silence.
Then he surprised me by offering, “I’m sorry, too.”
“For what?” I asked, surprised by his apology. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I did. I’ve been cheating on you for a long time,” he confessed.
“What?” I asked, shocked.
“I’ve been lying to you and to myself for years,” he continued.
“With whom?” I asked, suddenly jealous even though I’d cheated too… with my own son, which was far worse than anything he could have done, unless he’d slept with our daughter Karen.
“With Gary,” he revealed.
“Gary,” I repeated, stunned, hearing the name, but not making a connection with who he meant. Gary, Gary, Gary…? Then as realization hit, I stammered, “D-d-do you mean your partner Gary?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, looking deadpan straight ahead at the open road.
“You’re gay?” I asked, my head spinning with incomprehension, unable to absorb where this was going even though the answer was obvious. The person he’d named was a male.
“Yes,” he admitted, falling into one-word answers.
“Wow!” I breathed, before adding, “We really don’t communicate very well.”
He laughed. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I couldn’t get up the courage. I also didn’t want to shatter our family.”
“Well, I may have beat you to that,” I replied.
“But with Karen overseas traveling and our son starting college, plus the fact that my wife is fucking him, I figured it was high time to tell you the truth,” he explained.
“We’ve both been living lies,” I summarized. “I’ve always wanted you to be more forceful and more dominant.”
He chuckled, “And I wanted the same thing from you. With Gary, I’m the bottom.”
“Of course, you are,” I smiled, that making complete sense once I looked back on our sexual history together.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted, offended for the first time during this surreal conversation about betrayals and noncommunication.
“I didn’t mean that rudely. I’m a die-hard submissive myself, which explains why we always struggled so hard to find any heat in the bedroom,” I explained.
“So you wanted me to fuck you so hard you saw stars, while I’d rather get fucked than do the fucking,” he pointed out bluntly, trying to slant it as a joke.
Hearing him talk so openly was more surreal than all that had transpired in the last three days. In over twenty years together we had never spoken so frankly with each other.
“Man, a conversation like this early on could have saved a lot of years for both of us,” I laughed, trying to imagine his taking it up the ass.
“It didn’t stop me,” he joked.
“Well, we do have one thing in common,” I smiled, shaking my head… even now, it was just sinking in that he’d been cheating on me for years. This would have offended me greatly a couple of weeks ago… but now it just released me from the guilt that had been curdling inside me for the last few days.
“What is that?”
“We each love a cock up our ass,” I said crudely with a wicked smile… sharing that dirty little secret with each other was helping us both to release some of our guilt, and adding in the fact that he wasn’t judging me for my incestuous transgressions was liberating me… was liberating us.