How well do you ever really know those closest to you? Is there always something new for us to learn?
When I was twenty-one years old I never thought of being married for twenty-five years. It wasn’t that I expected Maggie and I not to be together. I just couldn’t imagine that far in advance. Neither of us had intended to marry young, but we fell in love, and if I wanted to live with Maggie, we had to be married. She was from that sort of a family. Middle class, conservative and traditional. She was intelligent fun, funny and I fell for her completely.
When we got to our mid-forties whilst we had to accept the middle-aged label, we still felt the same as we had when we married and retirement felt a long way away. I still had my hair, with just a little grey. Maggie was still a brunette with shoulder length wavy hair and stood a couple of inches shorter than me at five foot six. She was still very slim, with small A cup breasts and a pretty face with small mouth and open smiling eye. Dressed in the right way, we both could get away with pretending to be ten years younger than we were, and could surprise people when we told them that we had two grown up children.
We were Paul and Maggie, the couple who stayed together. Over the years we had seen many friends come together and separate. We had been referred to as the perfect family. Our daughter was still at university, and our older son was a graduate manager working in a large corporation. We had a nice house in a nice village around fifty miles south west of London. We had both been on the PTA and involved in various village activities at different times centred around schools, the parish council and the church.
We both had good careers, I had my own consultancy and Maggie was a teacher at a local primary school. We had a small circle of good friends around our age, mostly fellow parents who had had children at school with our two. Simon and Linda were two of the closest. They lived nearby and their two girls had been at school with our two children. We didn’t share all the same interests, but did share a sense of humour and got on well, often meeting at social events in the village or inviting each other around to our homes for the occasional meal.
I always found Linda attractive. She kept fit and I had seen her out running in the morning and I couldn’t help but notice her tight body. I found it strange, but in a way comforting, that as I became older, I found older women around my age, attractive. Simon had been a keen rugby player and was still tall, broad shouldered and a big man with a soft heart. Also very close to us were Debbie and Dave They were a fun couple, their three children were a little older and they were the life and soul of any party. Maggie was close to Debbie whilst Dave and I could find enough in common. We regularly shared an evening and supper with either couple, sometimes both.
Maggie and I rarely argued, we enjoyed similar music, shared liberal political views and still enjoyed each other’s company. We knew each other so well that I sometimes wondered if we both had started to inhibit each other. Had we got stuck in a rut? Were there new things that we might enjoy, but we would never try because they were outside our comfort zone?
There was only one aspect of our relationship that I could really fault. I felt bad about it because it’s a cliché. I had hoped there would be more sex. I still found Maggie very desirable; in fact, there was no-one I desired more. On the occasions we had sex, Maggie seemed to enjoy it, but the occasions were rare. Very rare. Once a month was frequent for us, and it was normally not even that. Almost always I was the one that initiated it, and often Maggie just didn’t feel right and ever so gently rejected my advances. I believe that husbands don’t have any right to have sex when they want; I just hoped that it would happen more. So I turned to porn, and other things, such as the occasional encounter with a “masseuse” when away on business, to find temporary fulfilment.
At the start of the year of our twenty-fifth anniversary we had the house to ourselves most of the time. The twenty-fifth anniversary parties we had been to when we were younger were for middle aged couples preparing for retirement. So we decided not to advertise our big anniversary, but rather go away for a series of romantic weekends together over the summer. I hoped it might kindle a new passion between us, but whilst our weekends away were fun and confirmed that we were still soulmates, there was little sex. I really tried to accept that there was so much good in our lives that the lack of physical intimacy between us was something that I just had to accept. As the summer moved to autumn, we had completed our last planned special weekend break.
Friday night is pub night
September came and our little circle of friends was shaken up when Linda left Simon for another man. Earlier in the year, she had joined an amateur drama group in the next village, and we had seen her in a couple of shows. One Friday in early September when we popped in to drop off her birthday card, we found Simon alone and in pieces trying to come to terms with the fact that she had left him and run off with another amateur actor. Both had left their partners and gone off to live together. We had no idea that there was anything wrong between Simon and Linda, which just shows you that you can’t judge any relationship from the outside. Simon was shattered. We loved them both, but we hadn’t heard from Linda. We didn’t want to take sides, but Simon needed support and he was there with us. His daughters had been home to help earlier in the week but he was now facing time alone.
We invited him out for a drink in the local pub. He wasn’t in the mood but we insisted. Staying home alone wasn’t going to help. We called Debbie and Dave and they immediately agreed to come along. We took Simon with us, so that he didn’t have to go into the pub on his own, and we were just glad he had come out. When Debbie and Dave joined us we were determined to make sure that Simon didn’t feel like the odd one out and so were acted like five friends enjoying a night out. We missed Linda, since she was always good company, but the evening went well, and we all agreed to meet the following Friday.
This started a new tradition. Friday night drinks at the pubs with friends. Maggie, me, Dave, Debbie and Simon were the core group but others often joined us. We never discussed Linda or how they came to split up. On Facebook she posted a new profile picture of her smiling in her new lover’s arms. Simon took time to regain some a little of his sense of fun again and we always tried to avoid letting him feel like the only single man amongst happy couples. If one of us couldn’t make a particular Friday, the others still went. Once or twice Simon couldn’t make it as he restarted dating, and we were always pleased when he seemed to be moving on, although he didn’t have a regular date.
Maggie and I both enjoyed some company at the end of the week and we could drink and walk home together afterwards. She usually had two or three glasses or red wine, and drinking more alcohol seemed to loosen her up a little. A couple of times we came home from the pub she came to bed wearing her underwear rather than her normal pyjamas, a sure signal that some intimacy was possible. Only a couple of times, but that was more than usual so something positive for me had come from our friend’s marriage ending.
One Friday, I was away working up north and had been delayed coming home. I knew the traffic would be bad and so I called Maggie and we agreed that I would meet her at the pub. Debbie and Dave were going to be away and we didn’t want to leave Simon alone. Although he seemed to be regaining his confidence, we knew it was still fragile. I expected to be home around 9.30pm. However, an accident on the motorway left me stuck in traffic and I messaged Maggie at the pub to say that it might be 10.30 or later. She called me back from outside the pub, telling me not to rush, to drive safely and get home when I could. We agreed that she should make sure that Simon didn’t feel that she was just there out of duty and she should make sure he left the pub smiling. She said that she would be the ‘perfect partner’. I enjoyed her teasing tone. I knew Maggie was far too much a loyal wife and mother to do anything wrong, but for a while as I made the long journey south I imagined her flirting with Simon. I found myself getting quite excited at the thought, but I tried to put it to the back of my mind so that I could concentrate on the road. It wouldn’t go away completely.
I didn’t get home until after 11pm. I was tired and so I decided to miss the pub, go straight home and wait for Maggie. I sent her a text to let her know that I’d see her when she got home. I opened a bottle of beer and I hoped that Maggie might not be too tired to enjoy a late night glass of wine with me when she got home to celebrate the end of the week together. I was a little surprised that when midnight came Maggie still hadn’t arrived home. The pub would stay open later for regulars, and so it wasn’t unusual for us to be this late, but I thought that since Maggie knew I was at home she would have come home by now.
I went upstairs to start to get ready for bed, and happened to glance down the street from an upstairs window. I saw Maggie and Simon walking towards the house. They both seemed a little unsteady on their feet. I could hear laughing as Maggie stumbled and Simon caught her and they continued arm in arm. As they came to our front drive, there was no street light, and I thought I saw them kiss in the darkness before they uncoupled their arms and then held hands up the path. My heart was in my stomach. I’d never seen Maggie act like this with another man; she rarely showed affection to me in public because she was so shy.
I heard the front door open and as they came into the house, I heard another stumble and a fit of giggles as they went into the living room. I came downstairs in my dressing gown to find them still hand in hand looking guilty like two naughty schoolchildren with big smiles on their faces. Simon seemed to tower over Maggie, who looked coyly at me at his side. I couldn’t help but smile back. I offered to go and make some coffee. Simon was a good friend and although I felt a strong stab of jealousy, I knew that Maggie was just being supportive, and perhaps had had a little more to drink than normal. I thought I might be in for a treat in bed later if she was that relaxed and flirty.
While I was making coffee, Maggie came into the kitchen and kissed me and told me that she was pleased I was home safely. I smelt spirits on her breath. I couldn’t remember her drinking any alcohol other than wine since the children were born. She told me that when she didn’t want any more wine, she had drunk some shots. She said she would tell me more about it later, and that she was sorry I couldn’t have been there. I reassured her as far as I was concerned, if she wanted to drink shots, she could, although it didn’t sound like the sort of thing she would do, and she certainly had never done it with me. I was a little miffed that she had new experiences without me, but I knew I was being churlish.
As I continued to make the coffee, Maggie said that Simon fancied a malt whisky with his hot drink as a nightcap, and so she went to get the whisky while I brought the coffee in. I suggested that she should make sure that he didn’t feel awkward with us. She gave me a kiss and whispered that she was looking forward to being alone with me shortly. It was out of character for Maggie, and I immediately felt a strong erection as I thought that maybe I should encourage her to go out with others more. Maybe I should have persuaded her to try new drinks and perhaps we should go out to new venues and try new experiences together.
When I came back in to the living room, I was taken aback again when I found that Maggie was sitting next to Simon on the settee very close together. Her arm was around him, and both of them had a glass of whisky in their other hands and were staring into each others eyes, their lips almost touch as they spoke to each other quietly. They seemed in no hurry to separate as I came into the room. Maggie then turned to me and said that she didn’t want Simon to be drinking alone so she had a whisky as well. I didn’t even know that she liked whisky. I was determined not to show my jealousy, since I had been so keen for Maggie to make Simon feel involved, although I was starting to think that he seemed to be getting too involved!
I poured the coffee and sat down opposite them. I was feeling very tired from my long journey and was starting to nod off. I knew I wasn’t being good at conversation, and I now felt like the spare part. The excited giggles had stopped and the conversation was stilted. I didn’t want to ruin what had clearly been a good evening. I said that I was tired and was going to bed. I came towards Maggie intending to kiss her good night, but she untangled herself from Simon and got up and went upstairs with me to our bedroom. Once inside, she asked me if I was upset. I lied, and said that I was fine, and that I didn’t want her to feel that she had to send Simon home until he had finished his drinks. I said that he was a good friend and she should make sure he was okay before he left.
She looked at me with a cheeky grin. I don’t know why but on impulse said, “you both looked so happy together tonight tonight, and it’s great to see Simon so on form. As long as you’re not having doubts about us, I want you to make sure his evening ends well and at the right time.”
Maggie looked serious for a moment.
“You know I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you. Are you sure you don’t mind if I spend a little while longer keeping him company? Nothing will ever happen between us. I like Simon but I love you. You are my husband and partner. You do understand don’t you?”
I saw the love in her eyes and a passion and energy that I couldn’t remember seeing for years. I loved seeing her happy and seeing something different in her.
“I know we’re good.” I replied, “It’s great to see you come out of yourself. Come to bed when you’re ready and not before.”
With that we kissed a gentle loving kiss. I smelt the unfamiliar smell of whisky on her breath, and I loved the newness of it. I got into bed and Maggie went downstairs. I heard a fit of giggles as tiredness took over and I dosed off.
I get the benefits of Maggie’s evening without me.
I wasn’t sure how long it was before I felt Maggie get into bed and cuddle up next to me. I felt the familiar warmth of her body in pyjamas, and also smelled the unfamiliar smell of spirits and another man’s aftershave. I put my arm around her and she snuggled up close. I my arm went around her shoulder and touched the edge of her breast through her top. Often if I did this she would move my hand away and shiver, since she was normally too sensitive. This time I felt her sigh, and then slightly turn her body so that my hand was touching more of her breast. This was a rare moment when she was inviting me to do more. My tiredness seemed to be pushed away by my excitement.
I stroked her breast, working towards her nipple. She put a leg over me so that she could rub herself against me. My hand went further and found a hard erect nipple, which she let me gently pinch through her thin top. As I did so, she let out a moan, a louder moan than I can remember for a long time. I was now fully awake and fully erect. These moments of passion and yearning from Maggie were rare and I wanted to take full advantage, without rushing. With one hand still on her breast, I moved her onto her back with the other hand and then moved it to between her legs and immediately she shuddered and I knew that I would have to be careful if I was not going to get bring her to a climax too soon. I couldn’t remember a time when Maggie had been able to climax more than once during lovemaking. Although there was still a pair of panties and pyjama bottoms between my hand and her pussy, I needed to change my approach, and so I withdrew my hand from between her legs and brought it to her head to bring our lips together to kiss her deeply. She tasted different, and it was exciting.
We kissed for a few minutes as I gently massaged her breast, ensuring I did not get her too excited too quickly. I enjoyed the different tastes and smells, and once I was ready, I pulled up her top and she readily lifted her arms so that I could remove it. I then pulled down her pyjama pants, leaving her just in her panties. The room was warm and I also pulled down the duvet so I could see her in the dim light, her slim body looking pretty much that same as when we first me, with any changes from two children and twenty five years masked by the darkness. I still found her entirely desirable, both physically and emotionally. My hand went to stroke her neck, then moved slowly down her body, touching her breasts and stomach as it head south. Her body writhed under my touch as she seemed on fire with an intensity that was new to me.
My hand carried on and moved under her panties and over her soft pubic hair. She gave another loud moan as I touched her clit, and then as my finger separated the lips of her pussy, I felt the wetness. She was soaking her panties. I could never remember her being so wet. I realised she was on edge, and that she was more than ready to receive me inside her. She lifted her bottom as I pulled down her panties with one hand and I opened the bedside cabinet draw with the other to reach in and get a condom. She pulled me to her as I unwrapped the condom and rushed to put it over my cock. She was dug her fingers into my back and opened her legs as I entered her with my covered cock. She came almost immediately I was fully inside her, and a couple of thrusts later I came as well.
We collapsed together, both breathing hard. She became sensitive again and as my hand touched her breast she pulled back. This was more normal. I carefully withdrew my softening cock and took off the condom. We came back together for a cuddle and a gentle kiss, and started to doze back to sleep. A short while later, I felt Maggie move away and put her pyjamas back on since she didn’t like sleeping nude. This always made me feel that I needed to put my pyjamas on, and after a bit of a struggle in the dark, I was clothed again.
As I lay awake in the dark, listening to Maggie’s regular breathing, I thought about what had happened that evening. She initiated sex with me, which was very rare. Her whole body had yearned for my physical touch. Her pussy was dripping with arousal. This was not my wife’s normal state. She had been on fire. This is how she had come to bed having spent time with Simon. As I thought this through, I became wide awake. I tried to analyse what I knew and what it meant. Was this desire for me, or was I just the recipient of something that Simon had unlocked in my wife?
I didn’t sleep much after that as demons worked inside me. Would Maggie want Simon to replace me? Would the sex tonight I experienced come at a dreadful cost? What did this mean for our marriage and us? Would our twenty-fifth year herald a major change in our relationship or even the beginning of the end? I started to dread facing Maggie in the morning, yet she was sleeping peacefully next to me.
I woke up and went downstairs early the next morning while Maggie was still asleep. I found the used coffee cups, two empty glasses and an empty whisky bottle on the coffee table. The settee cushions were pushed out of shape, and it appeared that the settee has seen quite a bit of action. I was in turmoil. But all I could do was tidy up the evidence, and make some coffee.
I brought up two cups of coffee and Maggie stirred as I entered the room. She struggled to open her eyes and was clearly feeling a little hung over. I went to the bathroom and found her a couple of painkillers and she was grateful for them and the coffee as she gingerly sat up in bed. I sat on the bed next to her and we drank our coffee in silence for a while until I asked her how she had slept.
“Very well, although my head feels like it weighs a ton. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk so much since I was at Uni.”
“What time did you come to bed?”
Maggie’s face went red as she recalled what had happened. She spoke quietly.
“Late.”
“Did you have a good evening?”
Maggie became tearful and buried her head in a pillow as she started to cry. “I’m sorry.”
My heart ached for Maggie, since I knew that she was naturally friendly and open and I hated seeing her upset.
“It’s okay, everything’s fine,” I lied, “I’m not cross, and I loved our time in bed last night. As long as we are open with each other and tell each other everything, we’re fine. I just want to hear what happened, but I’m not going to be upset, and I’m pleased to see Simon happy again.” (Author’s note: I know you’re thinking: I wouldn’t have told Maggie about the massages I had received when away on business; you’re right, I lied, I felt bad but I needed to get Maggie to tell me more.)
We never normally spoke of what we did in bed but I did want her to know how happy I was about what happened when she came to bed. Maggie thought about what I said and then started to describe her evening.
They were in the pub and none of our regular Friday night couples were around. It got noisy when a large group from out of town came into the pub to watch a duo who had come to sing and play guitar. This meant they found themselves crushed together on a bench and they had to speak close up to each other’s ear to hear above the noise. A young couple, who they didn’t know, sat opposite them and assumed Maggie and Simon were a couple. They had been together for a couple of years, and asked Maggie and Simon on tips for staying together. Simon pretended that he and Maggie had only met recently and had had a string of relationships and were still getting to know each other. He invented a whole backstory for them as they talked with the young couple. For the first time since he had split with Linda, he had been back to his old quick witted happy self.
The other couple had bought them shots and so Maggie had felt it would be rude to refuse to join in. Then Simon bought another round of shots, and she had ended up getting pretty merry. When they left at the end of the evening she had stumbled on leaving the pub, and Simon had put his arm around her to support her and they had walked home laughing at the how she was acting a drunk teenager. When she had stumbled again on arriving at our house and Simon had held her up, she kissed him on impulse as a thank you for being such a gentleman. She was so pleased that he was so happy and it seemed a natural thing to do.
She felt bad when she had seen me, but when I left the room they continued to flirt as if they were on a date. When I went to bed and after a couple more whiskies, Maggie had drank much more than she was used to and she was feeling uninhibited. She couldn’t remember who had initiated it, but she found herself in a passionate embrace, kissing Simon deeply. And that had continued for sometime.
I struggled to come to terms with what she had just told me, but I also needed to know more details. I tried not to sound too irritated as I cross questioned her.
“How can you not know who started it?”
“I really can’t remember. One minute were were talking and laughing and the next minute we were kissing. It just happened.”
“Kissing with tongues?”
“You know that’s what I meant.”
“When you were kissing, where were his hands?”
“They were moving all over my body,” replied Maggie looking away from me again.
“Did he touch your breasts?”
“Please, don’t make me feel worse than I do, don’t do this to me.”
That should have told me enough, but despite feeling almost physically sick with jealousy, I had developed a raging erection. I needed to know more, but I also needed to reassure my wife. I took a couple of deep breaths before continuing.
“Please just tell me everything. I accept that you didn’t mean this to happen, and it’s great that you had the chance to make Simon happy. As long as you don’t hide anything from me it will all be alright.”
I waited for her to continue, feeling aroused and conflicted inside.
“He touched me everywhere, but we were dressed.”
“Everywhere?”
“Pretty much everywhere.”
“Did his hands go under your clothes?”
Maggie struggled to answer, embarrassed but accepting my reassurance that I was not upset. If I wasn’t so involved, I might have stopped to admire how well I was acting, putting on a great show of pretending not to mind.
“His hand did go up under my top, and touched me over my bra, but he never touched my skin under my bra.”
“But he did touch your breasts.”
“I told you, over my bra.”
“And between your legs?”
“Yes, but he didn’t try to get inside my jeans.”
“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
After another long and embarrassed pause, “Yes.”
“What were your hands doing?”
“I held him and touched him too.”
“Did you touch him everywhere?”
“Not in the same way, he took the initiative, he was pressed against me, and so I couldn’t help touch him. But only over his clothes.”
I struggled to find the right words to ask the question I needed to ask. We never talked about such things even between ourselves and after twenty-five years as husband and wife.
“Did you feel his penis?”
“Yes.”
“Was he hard?”
“Paul, please, don’t do this to me. He was hard, we were excited, you know all you needed to know.”
“Did he feel much bigger than me?”
Maggie’s eyes filled with tears and she got up and ran to the bathroom. I heard her crying. I realised that I had pushed her too hard but my male competitive brain had been driving me. I wanted to know how he compared with me. And I was making the situation worse. I was angry with myself and with Maggie, but I knew that how I approached Maggie and what I did next was crucial. I couldn’t continue to torture her.
I knocked gently on the bathroom door and told Maggie that I was sorry that I had been so pushy. I said again that I wasn’t upset with her. I told her that what she told me had excited me, which is why I wanted to know more. It was only partly true.
Maggie seemed to calm down a little and asked me to give her a moment to get herself together before she would come out.
As we spoke through the closed door, the phone rang. I went and picked up the phone by the bed, and it was Simon. I told him that Maggie was in the bathroom. He said that in that case, he wanted to speak with me.
He asked me if I knew what happened. I said that Maggie had told me pretty much everything and that I knew that they had made out together after I went to bed. There as a pause before Simon spoke again.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry to both of you for last night. I realise that I’ve ruined my relationship with you and Maggie. I can understand if you both don’t want to see me again.”
I was taken aback. Automatically I found myself wanting to reassure him.
“It’s okay, Simon. Maggie and I have discussed it. I understand what happened. No one planned it, a lot of alcohol was involved and it was great that you and Maggie had a good time. I understand that it went a bit further than you intended, and that it was out of character for both of you. I’m not upset. Maggie and I want you to know that we’re both pleased that you seemed to have enjoyed yourself last night, and whilst it might not be something we would want to happen again, we’re fine with it. I’ll ask Maggie to call you back in a moment, and we’ll see you next Friday as usual.”
Maggie gathered herself together and came out of the bathroom shortly after feeling a bit better. I told her about my conversation with Simon and she called him a little later. She made sure that I heard her reassure Simon and confirm that we’ll be in the pub next Friday, but that she wasn’t about to start drinking shots again any time soon.
