The Letter

Dear Jen,

This is probably the most difficult thing I've ever had to write. I'm writing in desperation and because I love you so much.

I know that I was the one to suggest an open marriage. I had just had my ego stroked by the redheaded woman you saw me with at the club last night. She made me feel like I was still desirable when she flirted with me last week.

It was because of her I brought up the idea of an open marriage. I thought I'd have a fling with her and that would be that. The idea of an open marriage was one that I was supposed to take advantage of, not you.

After much discussion, and after you had agreed, I was over the moon. I thought that I would be able to cope. All my promises that our marriage was strong enough to survive this and that we would become closer as a couple were a monstrous lie.

Last night when you told me you were going out I was surprised. When I saw how you were dressed I was amazed. I didn't even know you owned a little black dress like that. I could tell you had stockings and suspenders on because your dress was so tight. I'd never seen you wear heels so high either. I wondered, fleetingly, why you didn't dress like that for me. Later I realised that I had started to take you for granted and probably didn't deserve it.

When I met up with redheaded Ally at the club she looked amazing. She made it very clear to me that she was willing and available. All I had to do was say the word. Then I saw you dancing with that blond haired man. You looked like you were having a great time, especially during the slow dances. Watching you grind your hips against him like you did made me feel things I'd never felt before. When you alternated between the blond and the dark haired guy I felt the first pangs of jealousy. They were receiving attention from you that I should have been getting.

When Ally suggested we go back to her place I just couldn't do it. I realised then how much I loved you and that the whole open marriage thing was utter crap. I wanted you and no one else. You, on the other hand, seemed to take to it like a duck to water. You had those two guys eating out of your hand.

I came home, leaving Amy high and dry. I tried to sleep but couldn't because my mind kept imagining what you were doing.

When you eventually staggered in in the early hours of this morning I was still awake. I asked you which of the two men you had left with. When you said both, my heart started to crack. Then you undressed, got into bed and proceeded to tell me exactly what you had been doing.

You went back to Jacob's (blondie) place with him and his friend Michael. Your description of them kissing and fondling you while they undressed you almost made me cry. You grabbed hold of my cock and taunted me. You had made me hard, as hard as I've ever been.

When you asked, do you wanna know how they fucked me, I was dumbstruck. No I didn't want to know anything of the sort but my cock was another matter. People say men think with their dicks? Absolutely true. And you taunted me with that fact as you told me of your night. Fucked by Jacob, you had to add that his cock was huge. Mine isn't small but you delighted in telling me how his put me to shame. Your vocal reaction, which you quite happily told me all about, was something I don't think I'll ever forget.

"Fuck me, Jacob," you said. "Your cock is incredible," you said. "So much better than my husband," you said. "Shoot your beautiful cum into me," you said. "I'm not on the pill," you said. And that's exactly what you told me he did. You also described your orgasm in minute detail. "It was more like an explosion than an orgasm," you said. "I've never cum that hard before," you said. "I've never felt that way with my husband," you said.

Then it was Michael's turn. More of the same, more of the, "I've never been fucked like this before." More of, "your cock is so much better than my husband's." More of, "Cum inside me, too." And you described your orgasm again too. "I've never been so horny," you said. "Oh, I've never squirted before. That was amazing. God you know how to fuck a girl."

You went on to describe how you sucked them both and they fucked you again. You described in detail how much of their sperm you drank down your throat and how much ended up in your pussy.

You know that you stroked me to orgasm while telling me of your exploits. "Did you enjoy my night like I did, Scott? Is that why you came so hard? Don't worry, they've invited me to a pool party tomorrow and have promised me that they will invite a whole gang of their friends for me to fuck too. I'll tell you all the juicy details when I get home. I'm going to bed. You can sleep in the spare room tonight."

That's when my heart broke.

When I woke up this morning I had resolved to write this letter to you. I'm not coping. I'll never cope with you going out fucking numerous guys. So I've decided to leave. I've left my phone here so don't bother ringing me. I won't be going to work this week so don't bother ringing there either.

If you would like to contact me for any reason, email me by Friday at 6pm. If I don't hear from you, I'll know that you have decided that you like your new lifestyle. If I do hear from you then we'll see what happens.

Your loving husband,

Scott.

What I didn't expect was an email so soon. It was waiting for me in my inbox by the time I checked my emails later that evening. This is what it said:

Scott, you prick,

How dare you leave? I have done nothing to deserve you leaving. You wanted an open marriage. Well, you've got it. You wanted to try new partners. Well, me too. How dare you be arrogant enough to think you can just slink off and make me feel guilty like this?

Fuck you. I've let my hair down for the first time in my life and you can't cope. Poor baby! This was all your idea.

You'd better come home tonight or I'll come looking for you. I'll find you too. And when I find you I'm gonna fuck you up real good.

Oh, by the way, I'm just back from my first gangbang at Jacob's pool party. There were eight guys there who fucked me in every hole. And it was good.

Your wife,

Jen

My reply was short and sweet.

Jen,

Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Take the week to decide which way you'll go. Let me know by Friday if we've still got a marriage. Shame to let 12 years go down the drain.

Scott

I checked my email every day but nothing. Friday morning, still nothing. 5pm nothing. 6pm deadline and no email. I did wonder how hard she looked for me because she didn't find me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Just as I was about to write an email to Jen to explain what I was about to do, I get mail.

Scott,

We need to talk. Come over at this time on Monday.

Jen.

I sent her a one-word reply

Okay

My sense of relief was palpable. I had just about accepted that it was all over and decided what my next option was. I loved my wife with all my heart and was too stupid to know it. I had opened a Pandora's box and didn't know if I could close it. At least with the meeting on Monday I had some sort of hope.

I was on tenterhooks as I walked up to our front door. I went to grab the door handle, then hesitated. Then I went to knock, and hesitated again. "God, is this what I've become? An indecisive, hesitant fool?"

While I was trying to decide what to do, the door opened. There was my beautiful wife, wearing a simple sundress and flat sandals.

"Come on in. We've got plenty to talk about," she said. "First things first, don't you ever forget that it was your idea. Also, I re-read your email and yes, you have been taking me for granted and yes, you didn't deserve the dress I wore last week. I bought it especially for that night, the stockings too. And the shoes. I wanted to dress like that so men would find me beautiful, and available. I'm telling you, when I got to the club I felt truly alive. Men's eyes out on stalks and tongues were drooling when I walked in. I felt fabulous. Then Jacob and Michael paid me the sort of attention you used to. They made me feel like I was the only woman on earth. That's why I went home with them, and that's why I went back the next day. I felt like you used to make me feel - the emphasis on used to."

"I know, Jen, I know. I fucked up. I thought that by coming tonight we'd be able to move forward together, but apparently not. Thanks for seeing me. Don't get up. I'll let myself out."

With that I rose to leave.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? This isn't over, not by a long shot. Sit down."

I sat.

"Just what part of what I just said did you hear?"

"That two other men made you feel alive and it made you feel fabulous. I don't think I can compete with that any more."

"You ass. I also said that it made me feel the way you used to make me feel. I had hoped that you might be able to feel like that again. That's why I told you all the sordid details, that's why I went back the next day - to provoke you into some sort of reaction."

"But I did react. I told you I loved you and let you go to do what you wanted."

She looked at me with what I thought was contempt. "Yeah, you reacted alright. You left. You didn't even put up a fight. Do you have any idea how it feels when the man you love gives up without a fight? I spent all last week seething, I was so angry with you. I read your email and I saw red. I rang all of your friends. I even threatened your best friend with a broken leg if he didn't tell me where you were. But he didn't budge. I kept on thinking, 'He's brought this on himself, the weak prick.' And I stewed, then seethed, then cried, then moped and felt sorry for myself. I was expecting you to crawl back to me. But you didn't. I even contemplated not emailing you at all, just to see what would happen. You know me, control freak. I need to be in control. I really thought that by not contacting you I was in control and you would eventually crawl back to me. Eventually I decided to contact you, but just outside the deadline you gave me to see what would happen."

"I left because I knew this was all my fault. I left because I didn't think I could convince you to stop without you telling me to go fuck myself. I left because I felt like nothing, like a piece of shit on the ground. I opened up a can of worms and you took of never to look back. Our marriage is over because of me. I don't blame you at all. I'm not surprised at what happened last week. You are a beautiful woman, and the way you were dressed it was simply a matter of time before you hooked up with someone, or in your case, two someones."

"Hey, hang on," she interrupted. "What do you mean our marriage is over?"

"Jen, you made it pretty obvious you had a great time last weekend, and probably this weekend too. Isn't that why you wanted to meet today and not Friday? Anyway, you loved it and I can't sit by and watch it happen. So I'll leave. The divorce will be simple. I won't contest anything, everything can be split fifty fifty and you can get on with your new life. I love you Jen but I can't live with you like this."

"This weekend, for your information, I could have had the chance to go out again, or get together with Jacob, or Michael, or both. But I didn't. Just after I sent the email saying we needed to talk I realised something. I was getting ready to go out again and all I could think about was that I wished I were going out with you. And I cried because I was afraid it would never happen again. And I realised something else. I love you, only you, and I'm determined to do whatever it takes to make you see that. I won't lie, last weekend was great, but it isn't you, and it's you I want."

"But I thought..."

"Whatever it was, you thought wrong. I don't want that kind of life. I want what we have."

"But my asking about an open marriage?"

"If you can forgive me last weekend's stupidity, I'm willing to forget about the whole 'open marriage' thing. I've tried it, and it's not for me."

"Jen, I'm speechless." I really was. I had no idea what top say.

"We've still got a long way to go. I know what I did to you, especially when I got home on Friday night, will take you a long time to get over, and I'm still angry that you didn't put up a fight for me. But I'm willing to try."

I sat in my chair with tears rolling down my face. My beautiful wife wanted me.