Upstairs Downstairs Ch. 01

"What? I thought we decided we weren't going to lose all that money, to then have to pay off the rest while renting somewhere else and ending up with nothing. Why are you asking about this now? Is it because I've started seeing someone?" Marianne asked with a worried tone in her voice.

"No, I'm okay with that. It's just, how are either of us ever going to move on while we're still living together? Beverly broke up with me because I'm still living with you, what's going to happen with you and Shawn? We agreed that no-one else would move in here, so are you just going to keep seeing him a few nights a week? What happens when either of you want more than that? Having me here can't be helpful."

"It's not like that between me and Shawn, we just have a casual relationship, that's the best way to describe it." She responded.

"Really? Just casual as in sex? Is that all he means to you? Are you saying you don't have strong feelings for him?" I asked, I was curious about her answer.

"Don't get me wrong, Dave. I like him, but it's nothing like that. We agreed at the beginning on what we both wanted out of this. We agreed that it wouldn't be serious, it'd just be some fun for the both of us."

"But what if your feelings for him do grow stronger? You can't be having sex with a guy a few times a week and not build a stronger emotional tie over time." I prodded further.

Marianne had a look of growing frustration written across her face, she looked away from me for a few moments before looking back to answer me.

"God, you can be so frustrating sometimes. I never wanted any of this to start with, you know." Marianne responded.

"Mazzy, I'm not forcing you to sleep with him, but I told you this was bound to happen once we separated. You can't blame me for whatever you have going on with this guy." I responded, more than a little defensively.

"His name is Shawn, Dave. But that doesn't matter, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm saying I never wanted to be separated from you to begin with, but that it's what you wanted. You couldn't get past your own sense of guilt for believing that it was all on you for putting us in a bad financial position. No matter what I said or when I tried to tell you that we'd be alright, you wouldn't listen. Too wrapped up in your own self-pity and lashing out at me whenever I tried to make you feel better. I thought agreeing to give you some space would help, that you'd eventually come around, because I still loved you, and I thought that you still loved me too." Marianne said, like she was releasing long pent-up angst.

"But what did you do? You started bringing home random women to sleep with. Forcing me to have to listen to you with them night after night when all I ever wanted was my husband back. A year I waited, a fucking year, before I decided enough was enough. If you were going to keep sleeping with other women, then I was going to find someone to sleep with as well. I'm sorry if that bugs you, but right now it's what you deserve, it's what I need as well." Marianne added, finally getting off her chest what she's obviously been wanting to say for a while no doubt.

I stood there a little stunned, lost for words. She was right, in my own self-loathing depression I automatically assumed she didn't want me, that we were better off apart. Here I was wondering whether she'd want to leave me because she might be falling in love with Shawn, and the whole time she's now saying that she's been waiting for me to come to my senses, for us to be husband and wife again.

"So, are you saying you still love me? Or has your relationship with Shawn changed that?" I finally asked her.

"Of course, I still love you, I always have. What me and Shawn have is just something that suits us both at the moment." Marianne answered.

I put my hands up and rubbed my face a little, wondering how I'd gotten this all wrong for so long.

"Why didn't you tell me all of this earlier? That you never wanted to be separated from me in the first place." I asked.

"What was I going to say? Do you have any idea how much I was hurting when you told me you wanted us to separate. That you assumed I wanted it as much as you did. That for the previous six months, whenever I even went near you, whenever I tried to talk with you, all you wanted to do was argue with me. Even my patience had a limit, I needed some space from you too by then, to not be arguing with you every single day. That's why I agreed to it. I was hoping that with some time and space, you'd get past your depression eventually and then we could be us again." Marianne replied.

I shook my head; we should've talked about this long before now. Then again, it's only been in the last six months that I believe that I've overcome the depression I was in. And by then, I was already sleeping with other women. In fact, I think it was sleeping with those other women that helped me to get over my depression and regain some confidence in myself in the first place.

"So, what now?" I asked.

"What do you mean, 'what now'? You just asked me if I want to sell the house so we can separate for good. I never wanted to be separated from you, it's up to you what happens now. It always has been." Marianne answered.

"What about Shawn?" I asked.

"The real question is what about you? Do you still love me? Do you still want to be with me, for us to be married and together again?" Marianne responded.

I stood there for a moment, like a dear caught in the headlights trying to figure out what to say. Eventually I responded after giving the question some thought.

"Yes, I do still have love for you, Mazzy. It's just that, this is so unexpected. Here I was thinking that you were falling in love with Shawn and may want to live with him, and instead you're asking me if I want us to be together again as husband and wife. Do I want it? For us to be together again? I think so. I just didn't even know if that was an option for us." I replied.

"Well, you do now. So, where do we go from here? Are you ready to try again, Dave?" Marianne asked.

"I just need a bit of time to wrap my head around this, Mazzy. You've thrown a real curve ball at me here. Besides, I don't want to mess you around anymore than I already have. I just, just give me some time, okay? I don't want to fuck this up again." I replied.

"So, now I'll ask you, what about Shawn? I need to know your intentions so I can tell him I don't want to see him anymore." My wife asked me.

"Look, until I really figure out what I want, can we just keep things as they are for the time being? We've been getting along so much better lately and there's no reason you can't keep seeing him for now. After what I've put you through, I at least owe you that." I replied.

"But Dave, what are we talking about here? Days, weeks, months? When are you going to be able to give me an answer? To at least give me some sort of idea if you want to try being my husband again."

"Just a few weeks or so, I hope."

"Alright, I can do that. But promise me that you'll tell me as soon as you know what you want. Do you swear?"

"I will, I promise." I responded.

After work, we both headed home where I quickly showered and made my way to the bar to begin my night shift. Today has been a bit strange to say the least, from the conversation I had with Marianne this morning, to Rachel then cheekily asking me during our lunch together if I like to watch my wife with Shawn. I've been getting along extremely well with Rachel; we both have a similar cheeky sense of humor. What she said was meant to tease me and I took it as that, but the underlying jibe was still there with my co-workers, that I was okay with my wife dating a handsome black guy, and that maybe I enjoy watching my wife with him too.

I wouldn't dare ever tell Rachel or my other co-workers for that matter, that I've jacked off many times listening to my wife and Shawn having sex, my pride couldn't take the fallout from that. Just the condescending looks they'd probably give me, knowing that their suspicions were correct. No, fuck that. I also didn't mention that Marianne and I could be getting back together again soon either, until it happens, I didn't want to say anything.

To add to the strange day I've had, of course my night shift at the bar meant working closely with Beverly once more, now knowing that she's just moved in with another guy after breaking up with me not that long ago. Then to end this weird day, and quite surprisingly, there was the return to the bar of the little firecracker, Tasha. The woman I enjoyed fucking for a few months late last year. All this while I'm trying to figure out if I still want to be with my wife, Marianne. Not just living together, but back being husband and wife.

When Tasha let me know that she was available for me later in the night, I had to stop and think for a moment, what the hell do I really want? Do I want my wife back? What about her and Shawn? How do I really feel about all this? I hadn't really had the time yet today to stop and think about any of this stuff, I mean really think about it. I decided it was best not to tempt fate, so I declined Tasha for the first time, I gave her a lame excuse about being too tired.

I drove home by myself on Friday after work in the office, Marianne was going to a bar downtown with some of our co-workers for a few drinks and possibly dancing later if they all got drunk enough. For me, I raced home to get showered and changed before heading to the bar to start my shift. Of course, later that night Tasha again appeared, and again made it clear she wanted to spend some time with me after work.

I wasn't sure what to do, I clearly hadn't made my mind up yet about Marianne and me, but it has also been some time since I got laid. All I know is that right now, Tasha is exactly what I need.

It was a little awkward sitting in the kitchen late on Saturday morning when Marianne joined me while making herself some lunch. Where she would usually greet me in a chirpy tone, there was no such greeting this morning. In fact, she didn't say much of anything to me at all. Maybe she's angry or at least frustrated that I brought Tasha home with me in the early hours of this morning, that we spent the next hour fucking each other's brains out before she showered and left. But we did agree for us to carry on as normal for now, and this was normal for me, I guess.

Or maybe she's just worried that last night might be an indicator as to whether I want us to be together again, I don't know. But it was never meant to be that; I just needed some sexual relief just like my wife does with Shawn, we both have needs that we're not yet ready to provide for each other.

On Saturday night I was thankful that Tasha didn't show up again at the bar, I don't think I had the energy tonight for a repeat performance. On Sunday I did some yard work around the house, before getting ready to head over to Gary's place for a beer in the afternoon. As I was leaving the house, Shawn was pulling into our driveway. I greeted him as I left, it felt a little strange shaking the hand of the guy who's about to bang my wife, I can't imagine Marianne doing the same with Tasha.

I enjoyed Sunday evening, having quite a few beers with Gary and Sonia. By 10pm, Sonia made it clear that she wanted me to go home so she could have some sexy time with her husband. As I trudged the two blocks home, I wondered if Shawn would still be there, if he'd still be fucking Marianne once again. All the beers I'd had meant that I was a little drunk tonight, something I usually couldn't afford to do.

As I entered the house, I checked the main living room and kitchen for them, getting a quick glass of water while I was there. No, they were definitely upstairs in the bedroom, I could now clearly hear the sounds of lovemaking coming from upstairs. As I approached the stairs, their lovemaking grew louder, my wife has left her bedroom door open once again. I could also see light streaming down the hallway at the top of the few stairs, clearly coming from her bedroom.

As I took a few steps down towards my part of the house I stopped, I don't know if it was because I was a bit drunk or a bit horny, but instead I made my way up the stairs to glance around the corner and down the hallway towards my wife's bedroom. I couldn't see any action from here, but her door was wide open with her bedroom light on. The hallway itself was dark, and I tentatively took a few more steps towards my wife's bedroom.

With each step I took, a little more of my wife's bedroom came into view, the side of her bed, then a little more. With another step, I could now see one side of their bodies, my wife laying under him, her arm and leg wrapped around him while he's fucking her.

I took another step, I'm just a few feet from the door now. What came into view is something I'll always remember, it was Shawn's powerful back, legs and buttocks ramming into my wife, his large balls swinging below with what looked like an incredibly thick black cock plowing in and out of Marianne beneath him.

I can see now that my wife looks like she's clinging on for dear life, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body as if she's afraid of falling even though she's laying on her back on the bed. The sounds escaping her are that of shear passion, there's no other way to describe it. And now my wife is cumming, and cumming hard.

I'll admit to feeling both extremely turned on and extremely insecure in this one moment. It's such an erotic sight to behold, to see my sexy wife in the throes of passion like that, but also a visualization of my worst fears. How would I ever be able to compete with him? His muscular body and the energetic way that he fucks my wife like I never have, not to mention that he seems to have a big cock, well, bigger than my own anyway.

Why would Marianne ever want me sexually after having him? Would she always be thinking about him whenever we fuck in the future? Would she secretly be comparing my sexual prowess with his, and find me lacking in more ways than one?

All these thoughts flooded into my head along with one other, that I need to jack off to the extremely erotic scene playing out in front of me. I pulled my raging hard dick from my pants, slowly masturbating myself hoping to not explode too quickly. I watched on as Shawn then moved off of my wife, to lay on his back beside her.

Marianne then moved on top of him in a 69 position, grasping his cock in her hand.

This is when I can actually see what Shawn is packing as my wife tries in vain to wrap her hand around the girthy base of his cock. Shawn isn't just a bit bigger than me; he's a lot bigger. His cock belongs in porn movies, and Marianne looks like a porn star right now trying to feed the monster into her mouth. This just further plays into the insecurities I'm already feeling, yet it makes the whole scene just so much more fucking erotic.

Shortly after, Shawn again changes positions, getting back on top of my wife in a missionary position and begins to really pump into Marianne this time. As their intensity ramps up, so do I as I begin to jack off more urgently as well. Within a few minutes I can feel myself about to burst, I quickly check my pocket for a handkerchief before I make a mess of the hallway carpet. Handkerchief in hand, I ejaculate hard with my wife once again as she screams in beautiful agony as yet another climax sweeps over her body.

My eyes are closed as I begin to recover from my own hard ejaculation, this is where my feelings of guilt and shame usually start to kick in. As I take a few deep breaths and slowly re-open my eyes, I'm still looking into my wife's room, only now I realize that Marianne is looking directly back at me, at first looking into my eyes, then down towards my waist with my hard dick still in hand. The amount of guilt and shame that I'd normally feel right now just escalated tenfold. I can't explain the levels of embarrassment that I'm feeling in this moment.

There seems to be no real expression on Marianne's face, no smile or scowl, just her eyes staring into mine once more. I think that maybe she's just as surprised to see me as I am to be seen by her. I quickly buttoned up my pants and retreated back downstairs to my bathroom, trying to wash away my feeling of abject shame in the shower.

What the fuck have I done?

To be continued.