Reluctant Cuckold (27 page)

“Not in the men I know,” I typed. “No guy or friend of mine would react that way.”

“Don’t be so sure, Dave. You would be surprised, believe me.”

“Well, I’ve talked to guys online who’ve had similar reactions, but it’s a skewed sample for sure.”

“Trust me, Dave, it’s a lot more common, and you’d be surprised what goes on behind closed doors. So, you masturbate thinking about your wife in the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Very common,” Mike replied, “and I want to get back to
that … but it seems to me you’re looking for reassurance. What would you like to hear from Ashley?”

“That it was an aberration. That she truly does love me, is happy with me, has no thoughts of leaving me.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“I did. She said she loves me, but I’m insecure.”

“OK, did you ask her why she did it?”

“Not directly. I asked if she got caught up in the moment and she cribbed that back to me, saying, ‘Yes, that’s what happened.’ ”

“How did the conversation end?”

“I couldn’t deal and I changed the subject.”

“Do you think she would have elaborated or wanted to explain more, had you not changed the subject?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you told her that while it hurt, part of it was a turn-on for you?”

“No, I could never tell her that.”

“Why not?”

“I think she’d lose all respect for me. Or whatever respect she still has.”

“She might have more respect for you for being honest and open about your feelings and emotions. Did you ever think of that?”

“I don’t buy that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she would think it was off the charts weird. She humiliated me that night, fucking this guy with me right outside, and I react by masturbating. I can’t tell her that.”

“You don’t have to tell her that. You can tell her that part of you was turned on by her sexuality.”

“No,” I typed, “I just couldn’t. There’s too much to lose.”

“I understand, and I realize you’re scared and overwhelmed. But can I give you an outsider’s perspective?”

“Sure,” I typed.

“You have every right to be upset with her over what she did. And her mimicking back your rationale—that she got caught up in the moment—is kind of weak. But, even if she wasn’t honest that first night, she did admit to it when you asked. I know you didn’t like hearing the guy had a bigger cock than you, but you pressed the question, and she was just being honest. And maybe she had more to say, but you changed the subject.”

“I was flustered,” I typed.

“I understand that, Dave, but maybe realize you both have played a role in sweeping this under the rug. Ashley did eventually come clean, but you haven’t come clean with her.”

“How do you mean?”

“Ashley doesn’t know that part of it turned you on, or how much you’re consumed with it now, because you’ve shared none of that with her. You’ve become a lot more closed about it than she has. Honesty and openness is a two-way street, and right now they seem to be coming only from her.”

“I can’t tell her that.”

“That elephant in the room is only going to get bigger. Every day you don’t talk to her, you’re simply feeding that elephant.”

“Are you married?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, “but I have friends who have gone through very similar stuff.”

“How did it work out for them?”

“The ones who are together and whose marriages are stronger,” he replied, “were open with their wives.”

“I want to be honest with her,” I typed, “but it’s a very embarrassing thing to admit.”

“What’s embarrassing?”

“That I was turned on.”

“Well, the rumor was embarrassing for her, yet she still told you.”

“I think the only reason she told me was that she assumed I’d already heard.”

“Maybe so, but she didn’t run from it.”

“Eventually, no.”

“Where are you guys from?”

“Manhattan UWS.”

“OK, I’m from Brooklyn myself. So telling Ashley it turned you on is not something you feel comfortable doing?”

“No.”

“OK, so you want to find out if it truly was an aberrant ‘caught up in the moment’ event, or if she’s still seeing or wants to see other guys. Is that it?”

“Yes,” I said, “that’s a lot of it.”

“And the other part is you want to know the details, but that’s really not the critical part, that would simply satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yeah,” I typed, “I guess I want to know why she did it.”

“OK, so, the questions are why did she do it and does she have inclinations to do something like it again.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I get it,” he replied, “so maybe you take what motivated her to do it first. That may well indicate if she’s inclined to do it again.”

“I don’t know what motivated her.”

“Dave, I’m just saying, in your next talk with her, you ask her questions that allow her to hint about her motivations. You don’t have to tackle the world the first time out. But you do need to start talking to her about this.”

“Yeah,” I said, “well, I think her friend had a lot to do with it. When she told the guy to whip it out, I’m suspecting Ashley was intrigued by his size.”

“Yeah, that may be, or maybe she was just being adventurous. Are you particularly small?”

“I’m like six.”

“OK, so you don’t have a big cock, but you’re in the normal range.”

“Yeah, but I told you about her ‘Just bigger OK’ comment.”

“Which got you hard, right?”

“Yeah, but it made me feel inadequate, too, and probably added to my premature issues.”

“Look, I do think the guy’s cock size probably had something to do it with it. If you truly want answers, you’re going to have to be prepared for that.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” he wrote, “he was stroking it right in front of her, so she saw he had a bigger cock than yours. And she was probably flattered and excited when she was picked—you said her friend is quite attractive, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when her friend asked which one he wanted to fuck your wife could have left, but instead she waited for his answer. And Ashley was probably excited to have been chosen. She was curious to know what his cock felt like. And she didn’t put conditions on it. She didn’t insist on condoms. She probably wanted to feel it in all its naturalness.”

“I know,” I said.

“I’m not trying to bring you down, but if her motivations are what you want, you’re going to have to be prepared for those answers.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But you’re going to need those answers. Because if Ashley’s curious about experimenting with another big cock, you don’t want her running around behind your back, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“OK,” he said, “so prepare yourself for what you might hear and then have a talk with her. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah, it does, actually, thank you. I appreciate you talking to me.”

“No thanks necessary, bro. You seem like a cool guy in a tough situation.”

“Yeah, kind of. I don’t have anyone in regular life to talk to about this.”

“What about the guys you’ve talked to online? Have you gotten helpful perspective?”

“Yeah, I talked to a few in a similar boat but got verbally bitch-slapped last night.”

“Bitch-slapped?”

“Just guys trying to rub it in, telling me how they would fuck my wife and stuff.”

“Did that turn you on?”

“I was drunk. I think I listened because it was how I imagined the guy who fucked my wife would talk to me. This morning I wanted to puke and felt like a fool.”

“Why did you feel like a fool?”

“I sent out some wedding and honeymoon photos of her and us, and some of these guys were local.”

“You didn’t give them your phone number, did you?”

“No. I got asked for that and my wife’s screen name and email, but thankfully, I wasn’t drunk enough to do that.”

“Well it’s a very good thing you didn’t,” he replied, “sounds like you were talking to a bunch of vultures—chat rooms like this are full of them. They are about exploiting any vulnerability. If you had given out your wife’s email, don’t think for a second that they wouldn’t be doing everything possible to try and seduce your wife.”

“Oh I inferred that for sure.”

“The photos of Ashley—was she nude?”

“No.”

“Good. Were there any you would be embarrassed about?”

“No but one guy jerked off on a photo of us posing at our wedding and sent back to me with his cum on her face. Which was a fuck-you to me.”

“Hmm, yeah, those type of guys can be like that.”

“I was drunk and wasn’t thinking.”

“Let me get a sense of how what you sent.”

“It was nothing she wouldn’t have on Facebook.”

“Well, I understand if you don’t want to send them. I’m just looking to help.”

“OK,” I typed, “I’ll forward them. One sec.”

“Well you do have a beautiful wife there,” he wrote. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to lose her. You’re an attractive couple.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “It’s also that she has a great, down-to-earth personality.”

“Yeah, she expresses that,” he replied. “Who’s the other blond girl in that beach photo?”

“The girl she was with at the party. That photo is from Florida.”

“I just sent you a picture of me,” Mike said, “just so you know who you’re talking to. And my full name is Mike Janson. You can easily find me on Facebook—there’s only one Mike Janson from Brooklyn, on Facebook at least.”

I opened up the photo and looked at the guy, a young-looking, clean-cut guy with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted you to put a face on who you’re talking to as well,” he said. “I don’t hide behind my computer like some other guys.

“Look,” he continued, “the most pressing goal here seems to be figuring out whether it was a fluke thing or whether she’s inclined to do something like this again, right?”

“Exactly.”

“OK, and secondly, if she does open up, you want to make sure you’re prepared. You don’t want to be flustered and suddenly changing the subject.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“So when you are ready to talk to her again,” he said, “don’t start at the front door, go through the back door.”

“Back door?”

“Well, she told you how embarrassed she was about people at work knowing, and how she might have to look for another job, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So ask her if it’s gotten any better there—has the rumor become yesterday’s news—so then you’re not talking about how it affected you, but you’re asking how it’s affecting her.”

“That’s a good point,” I replied.

“And you can baby-step this and just listen to what she has to say. You may be able to discern a bit of how that night came to happen from what she says, and even if you don’t, you’ve started a dialogue and can proceed further the next time.”

“I hear you, man.”

“You want to make this about her,” he went on, “it’s not about begrudging her for what she did, it’s about making her feel comfortable to talk about it. Your opening is, ‘Have things gotten better at work?’ ”

“That’s great advice, Mike, thank you.”

“You bet bro. You seem like an honest and thoughtful guy in a temporary sand trap. It happens. Think of me as a friend, because that’s how I think of you.”

“Thanks Mike, I really do appreciate it.”

“Anytime … Oh, and Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to run for now, but no more talking to guys who want to exploit you when you’re down. They don’t care about you or your marriage. They’re looking for any window to sabotage it.”

“Yeah, I know it was stupid.”

“Don’t sweat it, bro. We all get stupid sometimes, just something to learn from.”

Ashley and I met my parents for dinner Monday night.

They had just come from a cocktail reception at MOMA, and Ashley was connecting with my mom on some impressionist paintings she’d seen.

“So,” my dad asked me, “when are you meeting your brother out in Las Vegas?”

“Friday,” I said. “I have to be in San Francisco for business on Wednesday and I’m flying to Vegas from there.”