As with most of the stories I write, this started as a dream that wouldn't leave me.

This is fiction, but is it really? Then again reality is stranger than fiction, is it not?

Sex is in your mind. I don't think sex is the major reason for cheating, though it is the one most people focus on. Emotional cheating generally leads to physical cheating. Emotional cheating is just as damaging to a marriage. Emotional cheating has many gray areas. Physical sex outside of marriage is a defining moment.

I want to mention that I am an emotional guy. I cry at movies and become depressed when I hear of troubles our friends go through. When the following situation first came up, I was in denial. As the truth came out I hardened myself for the eventual showdown. Although I knew what I had to do, My heart was not in it. Anger, and anger alone moved me forward.

"Alice, after dinner I want to sit down and talk to you about our household expenses."

"OK dear, is there a problem?"

"Nothing major, just an adjustment of what we spend and how we pay for it."

"Do we have a money problem?"

"They are easily solvable."

"I am glad dear. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes."

"OK, I'm watching the news till it is ready. Tell me when."

I prepared for this sit-down with Alice, for over a month. I wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any questions when I got through.

As I sat in front of the TV I watched Alice happily preparing dinner for us. I thought about the 21 years we'd been married. The children were out of the house. Both were in university, the youngest, one year behind the other. The house felt empty when I was alone in certain areas of the house. The screams, yelling and fighting that were so annoying at the time, were missing now. I know Alice felt the same.

On the last day our youngest left the house Alice and I huddled together to support each other. Alice cried. I tried to comfort her, but realistically, I inwardly cried along with her. Whereas Alice found it easy to let her emotions come out, I found it difficult. My heart, felt like exploding out of my chest in sadness before tears flowed. I found no comfort shedding tears, and almost envied Alice that she had an outlet for her emotions.

When our children were old enough to start school, Alice took part-time jobs so that she could be home when the children got back from school each day. As the children got older, Alice worked more hours each day. By the time our youngest started high school Alice was working full days, no overtime.

Alice and I insisted that our children do well in school. It meant that they had to study and get good grades. Any grade below a "B" cut short their free or play time. Both children managed to do well in high school and came home every day with finished homework. We questioned how they managed it, but their grades were good and the teachers had only good things to say about them.

OK, it looks as though Alice is almost ready. Nope, she always has some last-minute item to carry out.

We married when we were both 20. I was comfortable with the relationship we had at the time. We had been exclusive for almost a year and living together for the last six months. Then Alice began hinting at marriage as a way of taking responsibility and care of each other. From my point of view, I found someone I was comfortable with and thought she would be a great life partner. Alice tells me that she wanted to marry because she was afraid of losing me.

Notice I haven't talked about love. Many of our friends mentioned "love", but I never really understood the feeling. I was infatuated with Alice. I lusted after her, most of the time. When she wasn't with me, I felt an emptiness. I enjoyed supporting her as much as I appreciated her support of me. We talked about everything, and disagreed about few things. Our morals and expectations of each other were in sync. But did all these feelings mean I loved her? After I accepted that all these feelings together defined love, I began telling her that I loved her.

Our parents were not happy that we wanted to marry so young. Their arguments were sound and made sense. Through all the pressure placed on us, we still insisted on marrying. When we couldn't be convinced to delay our desire to wed, parents on both sides agreed, under specific conditions. One of those conditions was that we use birth control. It made sense that a pregnancy would negatively impact our futures. We were still not married when our 4 parents had a sit-down with us and were very specific about what to do and not do, to avoid pregnancy. It was embarrassing to talk with our parents about such intimate details. I always thought it was the girl's problem, but quickly found out that it was mine as well. The jarring fact was that a pregnancy would affect our parents as well. For us to live, be married, and attend school, we would need their support.

We lived in my parents house' basement for the first 2 years of university, and in the attic of her parents house the last 2 years, before graduating. Sex was exploratory at first. I was her first. I came with some experience. But sex with a woman you cared for was different. I was so much bigger than she. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to make her first time a bad experience. Surprisingly, it was both our mothers who sat down, first with me, and later with Alice, to explain the basic facts of foreplay, then placing my penis into her vagina. They explained that while my desire was obvious with an erection, her reaction was with lubrication. Our mental state could enhance our desires, or kill them. We were given several pamphlets and books to read, then tested on them. Later, alone, we laughed and supported each other with the humiliation we had gone through.

I think she is getting ready to call me now. Yup, dinner is ready!

I came to the kitchen to help bring the food to the dinning room table. It was our habit to have all the food on the table before we began to eat. Alice, and I agreed, it was not fun having to get up each time to bring another course or remove dished from the table. It was this way when the children were still in the house. Alice wanted as much table time as I. I always worked with her to clean up afterwards. Cooking was her domain. Although I could cook, I was not as talented as she.

Alice felt that the environment and furnishings of the house made it warm or cold. The same held true for the food, or the display of our meals. It always had to be just right. Since I was not fussy about those things, she made all the decisions.

After helping Alice to bring the food to the table, we sat down and looked at each other. One of our habits was to take a minute and look at what we had. If not saying a prayer, at least take the moment to appreciate all we had.

A little wine, or in my case a half glass of beer, and we were ready to compliment the food and then sample what looked good. Most everything looked good. Alice was a fine cook and frequently told me that she enjoyed seeing me eat what she prepared. It was also an excuse for her to not eat too much. She like most women was perpetually on a diet.

Halfway through the meal I looked at her and said, "You are beautiful. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Thank you dear. What brings this on?"

"Sometimes, I feel that I am losing you. I know we have our individual activities, but occasionally I feel that yours are taking you away from me."

"I would never leave you," she said. "We married for life. I could not imagine living without you."

"Do you really mean that? I asked.

She looked a bit nervous, but answered, "why would you think otherwise?"

"Like I said, I feel a growing distance between us, and it saddens me."

"Maybe you're reacting to the empty nest syndrome," dear.

"Yeah, maybe. You don't feel the same?"

"No dear. I have what I need, and I am happy with it."

"OK then, maybe it is all in my head."

We continued eating and talking about the general news and news about friends and family. When we finished the meal I turned the stereo to an "old time" radio station.

"It brings back memories," I said.

"Tonight has you feeling nostalgic," she said. "Any particular reason?"

"Yeah, in a way. That's what I want to talk to you about, later."

"OK dear, can you give me a hint about what you want to talk about?"

"Rather than have you make assumptions or come to the wrong conclusions, I would rather we site down and talk in an organized manner, OK?"

"OK then," she said while looking at me questioningly.

We continued cleaning up while listening to the background music. When everything was clean and put away, Alice asked "Are we talking over wine or coffee?"

"Coffee, I think is better."

"Give me 15 minutes for the coffee to be ready. Where do you want to sit?"

"Let's sit at the kitchen table."

I went to get my papers while Alice prepared the coffee. By the time I came back to the kitchen, Alice was sitting at the table with 2 cups of coffee.

I had a hard time developing my financial pre-divorce plan for Alice and myself. The lawyers' advice was to try and work it out so that we stay together. Barring that, a divorce would be very expensive for me. The unofficial advice I got from several sources said, stay married but control the money. As long as we were married and the courts were not involved, I could unilaterally decide where the money I earned went. Forcing us to separate our monies, was a good prelude to the divorce. I could always claim that we had already financially separated.

Sitting at the table I pulled out the first sheet of paper.

"These are our living expenses," I said. "Please look them over and tell me if I missed anything."

"OK," she said and took her time looking over the list I had prepared.

"It seems complete," she said. "What now?"

"This second sheet lists all the expenses of the first list by user. Put another way, it shows who uses what. The first column is our common costs. The second column is my personal costs, and the third column are your personal costs. Please look it over and tell me if you disagree with anything."

She studied it for a while then agreed that the list was mostly correct.

"This third list is of our incomes. It is obvious that I make more than you and justly I pay more than you into our joint accounts. I just want everything to be clear."

"OK. I know you are leading up to something. . . "

"Yes, what I am leading up to is that I want you to carry half the burden of our common costs and pay for all your personal costs."

She looked stunned. "I don't understand. We are married. Why should we start dividing the monies we make and spend? Besides, I don't make as much as you do. I barely make enough to cover just my costs alone. Why would you want me to do this?"

I could see that Alice was becoming emotional. She wasn't connecting the dots.

"I think it would be better for each of us to understand what we contribute to our marriage, and what we take away from it."

"I don't understand. What good would that do?"

"I think you are taking advantage of me. Maybe it is one reason I feel we are drifting apart."

"Does this have something to do with sex?"

"Yes, in a way. We are a married couple, yet we stopped having sex about 4 months ago."

"That's not true!"

"Oh? When was the last time we had sex?"

"Last month!"

"Yes, the beginning of last month, and it is now the end of this month. That's 2 months since!"

"I am sorry, I didn't realize it. I'll make it up to you this evening!"

"I don't want a pity fuck. I don't want sex with a woman who doesn't want to have sex with me. You can't claim to have forgotten because I have asked you numerous times, and have been knocked back constantly. When did you stop wanting to have sex with me?"

Looking flustered, she said, "I never stopped wanting to have sex with you!"

"I don't think that is true. Why did you stop wanting to have sex with me? Are you having sex someplace else?"

"Of course not!" she said with a worried look. "You are imagining things. You are my husband. There is no one else that I love. You are the only one."

"I am the only one you love? Is that true?"

"Of course it is!"

And you haven't told anyone else that you love them?"

"I tell the kids I love them all the time. I also tell my parents and yours."

"But you have never told another man that you love him?"

"No, never," she answered too quickly and with too much emotion.

"You are sure?"

"Totally," she answered, but with tell cracks in her face and body language.

"Well I have it on good authority that you have been seen with another man getting out of your car in a motel parking lot."

"There must be a mistake."

"You have also been seen at a bar downtown, the kind of bar no one we know would go to."

"That is totally wrong. I was never there."

"Interestingly you were spotted one on your "girls night out," and another time in the late afternoon when a business associate of mine recognized you from your picture on my desk at work."

"Maybe it is someone who looks like me. I would never do something like that!"

"The first time I heard about you, I knew it was a mistake. By the third and fourth time, I had to be sure. I hired a PI firm to follow you. It cost over three thousand dollars to get the proof I needed. Do you want to see the pictures or the video's."

Alice had gone from active denial to sweating in place, then trembling. When I mentioned the pictures, her face turned white as her mouth began gasping for air like a fish out of water. Tears followed, then a shortness of breath as she gasped for air.

"Do you want me to call Peter to come for you? Maybe he can take you to the hospital and later care for you at his home?

"No, don't call him. He is depressed enough. I'll be OK."

"You have been spending money I earn on this Peter fellow. You have been giving yourself to him, almost exclusively, since you cut me off. How do you think I feel? How does it feel to hurt the husband you profess to love?

When I first heard about your cheating, I was in denial. As tidbits of what you were doing reached me, my mind went crazy. How could my wife, my best friend, my lover, the mother of our children be a cheating slut? How could she disrespect me, our children, and both our parents on each side? At first, I thought he was paying for your bed-time. When I found out that you were paying him with my money, I was doubly incensed. Why do you care so much more for him than you do for me? I thought I was your future. Now you're looking at a future with him or someone else. Is this what makes you happy?

Alice's eyes began clouding over as I spoke. The more questions I asked, the more they penetrated her psyche. Tears formed in her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks as she began to tremble.

"I thought you would understand that I wasn't doing this for my personal enjoyment. I was doing it to ease his pain."

"So when he was pumping in and out of you, you didn't enjoy it? It wasn't pleasurable for you? If you thought I would understand the situation, why did you do everything to hide it?"

"I don't know," she sobbed. "I just didn't think! I was concentrating on relieving Peter's pain.

"And what about the pain you were inflicting on me?

"Are you going to divorce me?" she asked.

I remained quiet long enough for her to turn even whiter than before, and slump off her chair onto the floor. I watched as she lay on the floor wondering if I should show that I cared. Within a few seconds her eyes began to flutter, her mouth opened and her tongue licked her lips. She looked up from the floor at me.

"You don't care anymore. . .?"

"Not as much as I used to," I said. "You've lied to me. You've cheated on me. You have disrespected me. And, you are obviously a slut. If your special "friend" paid for the motel room you serviced him in, then you are also a whore. How could I trust a lying, cheating, slut wife? Why would I want to be married to a lying cheating slut of a wife?"

"You have to let me explain," she said.

"We have all weekend", I said. "This is why I waited till Friday evening. I thought you might want to leave me and go to your cheating lover. Before you start, I've already read all the standard excuses, i.e. It was only a fling, only sex, there was never any love, etc. you still want to explain?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave me now and go to your lover?"

"I am sure. I only want you. I love only you."

"But you told Peter that you loved him. Who do you really love? Are you lying to me or him?"

"This is so hard. . ."

"Like I said, we have the whole weekend. Start when you are ready."

"I met Peter about 6 months ago. I met him on a girls night out. I walked up to the bar to get some drinks and the guy sitting there was crying."

"That guy was Peter?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

"Anyway, when several of the other girls went to the bar they came back with the same story, that a man was sitting and crying at the bar. When the fourth girl in our group went to get drinks, she came back with the crying man. The four of us were sympathetic and wanted to hear his story. Siting at our table he began his tale of woe. It was heartbreaking. By the end of his story we were all crying."

"Just give me the gist of his story."

"In short, his wife died. That was after one after another of his three children died, each of a different cause. His finances went to hell shortly after he was laid off, because of his depression he was not performing on the job he had been at for more than 15 years."

"Sounds like a scam to me, maybe a pussie hound?"

"We thought so too. His story was too sad to be true. When he showed us pictures of him and his family we also got a close look at his address and identification. Over the next two weeks each one of us researched his story. It was true, so we wanted to do something to help him out. I was elected as the emissary."

"I called him and asked if I could come over to his place. I drove over to the address he gave me. I was a clean apartment building, but not in the best neighborhood. He answered the door in his bathrobe and let me in. It seemed as though he was still crying from the last time I saw him. I asked if he had any tea and if he would like me to prepare it for him. I prepared two cups then sat down on the chair across from the sofa he sat on. He sipped the tea between crying fits. I felt for this poor man, so I sat on the sofa next to him and hugged him."

"I held him as he held me. Slowly his crying stopped and morphed into kisses of thankfulness. At some point I started kissing him back. His tears got my blouse really wet. When I pulled away he looked at me and said something to the effect that I was beautiful. I wanted to show him that he was not alone, so I kissed him again. I misjudged his face and kissed him on the lips instead of the cheek. "

"One thing led to another, and before I knew what I was doing, I wanted to show him that he was not alone. Little by little he peeled my clothes off while I undressed him. With no other thought in mind except to show him that he was not alone, we made it to the bedroom. It smelled, but I was on a mission to show him that he was not alone. "

"Once in bed, I let him have me. I didn't intend to let him go all the way. It was only supposed to be a hug. Before I knew it, he was making love to me. He isn't bigger than you, or more skilled. But whatever it was, I lost my mind and could only think of him in me. By the time he entered me I would have done anything for him. My body was in total control of my mind. I had no mind. My only thoughts were about the pleasure he was bestowing on my body and what I was doing for him. For the next few hours, I was his."

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