Just come clean

That evening when Carolyn comes home, it's impossible not to see her in a new light. Thoughts of her and those men, and of her and Zoe creep into your mind at every opportunity.

You give her the excuse. "I'm not feeling that well today." But you can tell she's suspicious. After all, what are the chances that you're so reserved and tense on the very day that her slut video is up?

And you realize that you can't keep up the charade for long. You have to tell her.

But at the very least you need a day to process what you've seen. You need a day to understand it all. Probably more than a day, but you're giving yourself a day. You'll tell her tomorrow.

___

But you don't get to tomorrow. You're awoken in the middle of the night by a curious sound. A sort of shuffling, breathing, panting, rubbing.... you look next to you in bed and see Carolyn, her hand down between her legs, masturbating furiously.

"Carolyn." you whisper loudly, "Carolyn! What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." She responds, turning over. So you go back to sleep.

Until you're awakened again by the same thing. Not even sure how much time has passed, you sit up and flick on a light. "What the fuck is going on!!?"

Carolyn stops, and looks at you, her face melting into an amalgam of guilt and desire. "I can't let it go." She says. "I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about it."

You grimace. "Your video."

"Yes" She responds.

How amazing. You expected to be the one issuing the mea culpa. But now this. You decide to react with kind gentleness. This is your wife, after all. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"I can't." Carolyn answers. "I can't without telling you what happened in the video. And I really sh..."

"Oh, I've seen it. I already know what happened in your video." You interrupt. Carolyn's jaw drops and her eyes open wide, at least as wide as they can get in the middle of the night.

"You... you promised you wouldn't watch it." she says, a tone if disappointment in her voice.

But you're not going to let this become the conversation. "And you said you'd just do it and move on. I think we both thought we could keep our promises at the time. But we were wrong." You reach out and wrap your arm around Carolyn. This is a good moment. A good moment of marital reconciliation. "Now tell me what part you can't stop thinking of and we'll figure out how to move past it."

"Well..." You can tell Carolyn is hesitant to say. "You've seen it, so you probably could guess." You don't respond. You're not sure you could guess. Not with total accuracy at least. So you'll have to let Carolyn tell you. "I mean... her bedroom is right over there. Suddenly it's like I'm a crazy person. All I can think of is eating her out. Is that terrible of me?"

You wonder. Is this exactly what the President was trying to get at by requiring these slut videos? Was he trying to make the women of America into the most perverted versions of themselves? Was it working? How many other households were dealing with this right now? You wonder.

The idea of Carolyn turning into her most perverted self may be a turn-on. But life isn't a porno. And you respond in a sensible way. "We can find a therapist perhaps..."

Carolyn shakes her head furiously. "No."

"Maybe we take a vacation, just you and me, get away from it..." You try again.

Again, she's not hearing it. "No."

"Then what? What is it you want to do? How do you want to fix this?" You ask, trying to suppress your frustration.

"Frank.... the, um, guy who did my video, said something to me. And I can't forget it." Carolyn says. You shake your head. He really got his claws sunk in her.

"What's that?" You ask, still presenting a caring, considerate facade.

"He said... the only way to get rid of an itch... is to scratch it." Her lip quivers. Her eyes moisten. It seems to you that she's turned a corner... one there may not be any coming back from.