Bombshell in the Berkshires - Sex Stories

Bombshell in the Berkshires

At first I thought the fallout would be insurmountable.

And for many weeks it seemed that way.

Opening the side door to our old New England farmhouse kitchen that late October Saturday, with sunset just around the corner, I was taken completely by surprise to see Barb standing by the window staring out into our backyard. She turned to face me when I entered, and the look she leveled at me said a galaxy of things. I was caught, the jig was up, and she was pissed.

I stopped and tried to collect my thoughts. I kept my voice low and even, but soft.

"I thought you wouldn't be back 'til later. I was just going to start up some dinner for us."

These were both true statements.

Barb's eyes were keen, on the verge of accusing, and they bored straight into me.

"I sent you a text, Clay. Rachel wasn't feeling well, and we called off our shopping early."

We looked at each other.

"But you were occupied." Meaning why I hadn't seen her text.

Her words and tone revealed that she knew a lot.

"I saw you. In the garage. In that Volkswagen van of yours."

She said "Volkswagen" like it was a hand grenade with the pin pulled.

"Roger's pants were off," she said in a flat voice. "You were between his legs. I couldn't see his penis, but your head was plastered to his crotch and moving around. I knew exactly what you were doing."

Her eyes got all strange and moist. She wiped the side of her left eye with the back of her hand.

"Clay. How could you? No wonder ...

... you two have been together so much."

She turned away, looked out the window again.

Barb is not typically an imposing woman. A couple inches shorter than me, and I'm not even that tall, she has never been lean, but forty years and a couple kids meant extra weight, and in our little rural town in the Berkshires she passed as sweet but unremarkable.

But she held herself well, and no one could doubt her essential kindness with a touch of backbone. Pointed chin, long narrow nose, a face normally graced with a wide big-toothed smile. Her shoulder length dark hair with a touch of silver was loose, not in its usual pony-tail, and she had even worn a long skirt to go into town.

I had gone and created a world of unhappiness for her.

I did not like that my hands were clenched shut. That my stomach felt awful. That the warm glow that had been coming from my penis not moments before, which Roger had pleased so nicely with his energetic wet tongue and lips, had evaporated.

Not for the first time in a crisis, my mind went numb. Words eluded me, but I knew they provided the only possible route to safety. Silence would have been the worst possible option.

"Barb. I'm sorry. Let me explain."

I stopped, while she still stood at the window, looking out. Her body was tense, unpleasantly rigid.

"Look, this is a bad move on my part. I still love you."

I meant this.

"I did not mean to hurt you. This is just one of those things that..."

"Betrayal!" She whirled and ...