My wife and I still had all the formal agreements she had established that first year of our marriage. Others had periodically been added, but none were ever removed. Most of which I'd forgotten since I only needed to remember that we'd agreed to be monogamous and have sex as often as possible. Everything else took care of itself. I still enjoyed acts of contrition, giving, and receiving. I still enjoyed angry sex, which seemed to have become more often the norm. I felt the frustration that fueled her anger but couldn't help enjoying the act. I loved watching her at it – ferociously staring down at me, with her hair and sweat flying through the air.
There'd been opportunities that may have become temptations long before I'd become one of the wealthiest men in the world, especially while I'd still been traveling and selling Magick Hats. Some I assumed had been opportunities of a professional nature. The women hadn't dressed like they were traveling on business, or perhaps they were. I'd never allowed myself to engage in a conversation long enough to determine the nature of that business and whether it was flirtation or solicitation. I'd played defense against such temptations.
A friend had once asked if I could honestly say no to a naked woman in my hotel room. I'd answered, truthfully, that I doubted I could. But other than my wife, I'd never had naked women in my hotel room. Other than hotel staff, I didn't even invite clothed women into my room, and then I exited the room while they completed their tasks. And I was cautious about what conversations I had with women elsewhere. I hadn't wanted even to be tempted by a flirtatious conversation.
I'd encountered some of the same men at the hotels where I regularly stayed. Some took the same flights. We occasionally met for a drink or dinner in the evening, and they invited me to come along to explore the town - which meant the local strip clubs. These were invitations that I had declined, except when one of these men, who'd become closer than the others, pleaded with me to come along to celebrate his birthday. So, I spent the evening with beautiful naked young women gyrating on my lap, his treat. He admitted he was attempting to corrupt me. Of course, I'd admitted that a beautiful naked woman gyrating on my lap turned me on. I was a man. And as became apparent, I wasn't impotent.
I nearly came once, reinforcing my belief that going to such places was a bad idea. I didn't need the temptation of being away from my wife, with naked young women grinding on my erect penis. Even against club rules, I knew that some of these women would come to the hotel once they were off work, which my friend said he could arrange. Again, his treat. No, I was already well past the line of my defenses and needed to get back behind a locked door where I felt safe, alone.
My friend and several others believed that whatever they'd "agreed" at home stayed at home. Those rules didn't travel with him. My friend explained that he needed to let his bad self out to play so he could return home and be his good self, a good husband, and a dad. If his bad self didn't get to play, he couldn't do that. One of the better rationalizations I ever heard, to be sure. He insisted that blowjobs weren't cheating. I asked if his wife would agree. Of course not. What about her giving out blowjobs while he was out of town, being his bad self? That brought a moment of silence and what I believed was at least the private recognition of his hypocrisy - quickly dismissed by his bad self.
I felt that coming during a lap dance would have been cheating. I doubted that the lap dance hadn't been as well, even though I'd managed not to come. A blowjob was totally out of the question.
My wife agreed with all the above. However, she forgave me under the circumstances since I'd only gone to the club as a favor for a friend. I was honest with her about it afterward. A blowjob would have required another discussion and one I would not want to have. And forgiveness for just the lap dances, even though I'd been honest, and had managed not to come, would cost me multiple acts of contrition once I was home. In addition, my wife might need to go to a club with male strippers to even the score.
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The Words - An Autobiography
Science Fiction"What if God was one of us?" Credit to Eric Bazzilion, and thanks to Joan Osborne for singing his brain-rattling words. Much earlier, my mother promised that if I applied myself, I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up. Then, from somewhere, I r...
