It has been nearly a month since John packed a bag and stormed out of their house, furious at his wife’s infidelity. He had met his friend Tom on the golf course after returning from a business conference. “You will be glad to hear that I am medically cleared for normal activities. The stents are working, and my heart is strong again.” Tom told him.

“Great news,” John replied, shaking his hand.

“Yeah, I came by your house Thursday to celebrate with you, but when I recognized Jim’s car in your driveway, I decided it might not be a good time to visit.” John tried not to react strongly then, but his golf game was ruined again.

When he got home, he confronted Blanche. She admitted to cuckolding him again with Jim, thinking that their son had outed her. She insisted that it was unplanned and was the very last time.

Not wanting to stay alone in a hotel, he imposed on Tom, explaining the reason. Now, it was past time for John to take formal steps, get an apartment of his own, and start divorce action. But he seemed unable to launch.

Meanwhile, Blanche had sat down with their sons and given her side of the situation. She told them that it was a mistake and that she and Jim were over; that she loved their father and wanted him to come home.

They came to talk with John, to encourage him to sit down with her, but he refused. He would not badmouth their mother to them; he simply would not discuss the matter. After he had refused several of her calls, she gave up and texted him that, though she loved him very much, she would not resist if he insisted on a divorce.

Initially, the boys had called to invite him to come for dinner. He lied and said he was busy, knowing that they hoped to convince him to reconcile with their mom. Eventually, they stopped.

He snuck home a few times when he knew she would be out, to retrieve more clothes and papers that he needed. There were no signs of anyone but her having been there. Everything was neat and clean. He always left a note.

His friend Tom tried not to take sides, even though he cared for Blanche as much as he did for John. But he acknowledged that she seemed to have violated their marital compact. He couldn’t defend her, and he avoided seeing her.

When John told him that he was apartment hunting, he strongly urged that he stay with him longer, arguing that he enjoyed the company. Next, he suggested that they go out drinking at local pick-up bars. They were at one, drinking and watching the action with no real desire to meet women, when Jim appeared beside him at the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked in a friendly manner.

John nodded. “So, how is my wife?” he asked. “Are you still banging her?” He didn’t hold a grudge against the young man; his problem was with his soon-to-be ex-wife.

“I have not seen or heard from her in a long time. You must know that. She won’t speak to me, and I have moved on. There is no shortage of available women around here.” He seemed intentionally callous. The drinks came, Jim took his, and walked away. John’s mood was soured, and he went home.

Life had become colorless and gray; food was tasteless; one day followed the next without anything to distinguish them. John could not avoid thinking about Blanche, wondering what she was doing; Is she dating? Does she have enough money? Who is mowing the lawn? Has she moved his remaining stuff out of their closet? He was obsessed with her.

The next week he decided to try going out again, this time solo. An attractive woman sat at the next barstool and smiled at him. They chatted through a couple of drinks and danced. She invited him to go back to her place for a nightcap.

Once there, she practically attacked him. It was sudden and seemed so needy that he immediately begged off and went home, leaving a very angry woman cussing him out.

Finally, Tom couldn’t hold it in anymore, “When are you going to admit that you still love her and miss her?” he asked. They were watching TV for the nth night in a row.

“I admit I love her, but I can’t trust her. She started having sex with you behind my back; she has fucked Jim over my specific request, that she stop. She made it plain that I am a lousy lover, no comparison to her boyfriend” John’s ire began to rise along with bile in his stomach.

“But she didn’t lie about it, did she?”

“Not when caught red-handed, no.”

“Maybe she deserves another chance. I think she would jump at a chance to get back together on any terms you specify. And I miss seeing her too. I hate taking sides here.”

“I don’t see her knocking down my door to apologize and beg forgiveness. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She hasn’t even asked for money since I stopped depositing my paychecks in the household account.”

“Well, she has been talking to me. And she is concerned about you but is respecting your wish that she leave you alone. She is not happy either, you know. She is hurting and sad. Ask your sons.” John was adamant. His wife had trespassed too many times. Only a fool or a spineless wimp lets his wife treat him like dirt. He was not made like that.

Once again, the next Saturday night, I found him at the same bar when a familiar voice said, “Hi, handsome. Wanna dance?” He turned; it was Blanche!  His heart leaped, and then it sank. Fuck! She has put herself on the meat market.

“Hello, Blanche. What brings you here, as if I didn’t know?” He turned back to the bar.

“I’d like to dance with you. Won’t you please?” She put her hand lightly on his arm. It sent an unwelcome thrill through him. She didn’t let go of his arm as they walked to the dance floor. They danced without speaking, and gradually, she let her head rest on his shoulder.

The music stopped, but she didn’t separate from him. “To answer your question, the girls from work have been nagging me to come out with them, and I got tired of sitting home waiting for you to call. So, here I am. Won’t you sit with me for a while?”

“That’s not the way to find your next boyfriend.”

“I already have a boyfriend. He’s just not available right now. Come on, here’s an empty table. We should grab it before someone else does.” She tugged his hand toward a chair.

“Did Tom send you here tonight? He has been pleading your case like a Philadelphia lawyer lately.” John’s head was spinning; what in hell was I doing? This is not supposed to feel this good. I swear, she’s a witch casting her spell on me. I want her to take me home and make love to me all night.

“God bless him. He and the boys have been keeping me sane these last few weeks. I’ve been expecting to get the papers served any day. It’s like awaiting the guillotine to fall. But seeing you here now, I can’t believe we will separate.” Somehow, mysteriously, her hand was resting on his thigh. It felt warm and wonderful, and his cock was responding. He should leave.

John started to get up, but her hand stilled him, “John, I know that I have wronged you, but I also know that we belong together, and I will do whatever it takes to be a good wife again. We can fix this.” Her voice was calm, strong, and sincere, much as it had been over years of dealing with the many crises that occurred when raising a family.

“When you are ready, I will be waiting, and no other man will tempt me to stray. I love you; you are my soulmate. Please don’t make me wait too long; I’m getting older as we speak.” She leaned in and kissed him, then went and spoke briefly to her friends and left the bar.

John sat for a while finishing his drink, his mind in turmoil. The bar was too noisy for serious contemplation, so he left. He didn’t immediately start his engine; he just sat in the quiet dark. This mess was all his doing, all this sturm und drang, now involving their sons and his friend Tom.

How in hell had he expected her to act? First, he told her it was OK to fuck other guys, and then he got pissed because she enjoyed it.

Sure, she might have been more circumspect and not raved about her young stud; his ego didn’t need to be crushed. But the truth is the truth: he might not be the hottest lover out there. His phone beeped with a text: “I loved being with you tonight. Let’s do it again soon. Sleep well. I love you.”

He drove home and found Tom awake, reading a book. John made drinks and sat with him. “Tell me, as someone who cares about Blanche, how did it feel when she told you about fucking Jim?” Tom was quiet for several moments.

“John, not to complicate your life just now, but I have to tell you that I love your wife; you probably already know this, I suppose.” John didn’t speak. “Even before my wife died, I had feelings for her but never acted on them. Then, after Yvonne was gone, Blanche was so caring and concerned for my welfare, trying to get me through the mourning period.

“When you suggested that I try to seduce her, I jumped at the chance, and when she began to respond to my overtures, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I realized that initially, it was mercy sex, but it felt wonderful. Then, our threesomes were just what I needed because I did not want to cause you problems.

“Her pleasure at playing with a twenty-something stud gave me pleasure. It showed that she wanted to explore her sexuality separately from us, from you, and that she had a genuine sexual awakening. I felt privileged to get to share her at all, and her attention when I was recuperating was a bonus.

“Now I seem to be stuck in the middle of a conflict where I can’t choose sides. My fondest wish is for you two to be back together and to include me in your menage.” Tom seemed a bit intimidated after his confession, but of course, John knew of his affection for Blanche.

“So, you think I’m being unreasonable splitting up with her over her affair with Jim?”

“I think you two are meant for each other, and if she has an occasional dalliance but returns to you with love, you are still a lucky stiff. She’s a keeper, plain and simple; maybe not a saint, but a keeper.” John thanked Tom for his candor and went to his room to think. He lay in bed musing.

She had been well aware of his fascination with cuckold porn before Tom started hitting on her, and she owned up to their shenanigans openly and asked him to join.

Except for that last time with Jim, the so-called breakup sex, she had not tried to hide her actions. Even then, he believed that she would have told him eventually. The fact of their son catching her in-flagrante must have put the fear of God in her. Was it true she had been celibate since then?

But, if we are to get back together, what are the ground rules? Can I tolerate her fucking Jim? Or someone else? Is Tom to be part of our lives in the way that he would like? Would she be content with just me, or us?

Surely, she knows that Tom loves her. Does she love him in that same way? I know I love sharing her, but can I tamp down the jealousy part of my perversion and give her room to be herself?

His mind would not turn itself off, allowing him to sleep. One thing was certain: he wanted her back. Finally, in the wee hours, he texted her, “Alright, what do you want?” To his surprise, a response came in minutes.

“I want you to come home now. I’ll put the coffee pot on.” He wasted no time getting dressed and quietly leaving for home. He arrived, met by Blanche in a nightgown holding two hot cups of coffee. After a long, warm embrace and kiss, they sat together on the TV room sofa, drinking without talking.

When her coffee was gone, she laid her head in his lap and put her arm around his waist. Before long, she was snoring, just like the old days. He reached the comforter from the sofa back and covered her, then laid his head back and dozed off. He was home for good.