Bombshell in the Berkshires - Sex Stories

Bombshell in the Berkshires

... college, but still. Didn't feel like our urges, our wantings for sex, were matching up very well."

We shared a long look.

"Things were a bit quiet at home. When an opportunity opened up with Roger, I went all in." I spread my hands.

She looked hard at me.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't think it was cheating." I looked straight into her face. "Didn't regard it that way."

Here her eyes got big, and she was about to say something angry.

Before she could, I made an addition. "It was with a guy. No romantic involvement, just sexual release. Not technically adultery or anything."

Now her words exploded into the room.

"Not 'adultery' you say! What, since he wasn't a wife? Couldn't get pregnant? Since no penetration was involved?" She looked puzzled for a second. "Or was there?"

"Nope. Just penis play, nothing more than mouths and hands."

"But you didn't do this openly, Clay, that's the big part. This was a secret little behind-the-back thing."

"Roger and I had our reasons."

She snorted. "Right. Neither of you would've gotten the 'go-ahead' if you'd mentioned anything about it. Especially from Carrie. If Roger had said anything, she would have thrown him clear into Vermont. And I wouldn't have blamed her."

The stare she leveled at me made me want to look away.

"What hurts the most is the not telling. I can believe that you wanted to enjoy some 'penis play' with a pal, some sex without any strings attached like you might have with a fussy ...

... wife or something."

It looked as if my phrase "penis play" had taken on a life of its own, and I regretted having used those words.

Barb looked at me hard, and I struggled to gauge her thoughts. I apologized in every way I could think of. Our discussion did not get much further that day.

We talked sporadically over the next few weeks, and I was made quite aware how much Barb had been hurt. Our talks were usually brief and revolved around the same themes. But mostly we didn't talk much at all, and the house felt like a prison.

Roger and I only communicated a couple times, by text. I don't think either of us wanted to show our wives any sign of friendship or desire to get together. The VW sat alone in the garage much of the time, but I texted Roger once when I'd taken it out on a drive.

'u okay?'

'yeah. carrie's barely talking to me.'

'same here too. I miss your u know what'

'me too. I mean yours'

'think it will blow over?'

'not sure. not easily. hey clay, gotta go. hang in there'

'u too. best'

I tried to stay busy around the house or outside doing chores. I went on long walks. But it is the time of year when you tend not to want to be outdoors much, especially when the cold November rain was coming down. Barb and I more or less orbited each other inside the house, keeping our distance, except for dinner and sometimes breakfast, never in the same room for too long.

I made it a point to take care of trouble areas that tended to be flash ...