The Mistake

The Mistake

It was done and he had gone. I sat on the edge of the bed with just a satin bedsheet wrapped around my naked body. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My world was going to collapse around me and there was nothing I could do to avoid the oncoming disaster. How had I managed to do something so utterly stupid?

To feel desire for another man was one thing but to act on that desire was something else altogether. How could I have done this—taking another man into my bed. We were discovered and by my own children no less.

I had known him for years, and he had always been a good friend—never anything more. When had it changed? When he kissed me everything around me vanished except the feel of his hands as they caressed my body. Before today I’d only had one lover and naturally wondered what it might be like with someone else. Now I knew.

It had all started out so innocently—he had dropped by to return some tools he had borrowed from my husband. I asked him to help me move a couple of heavy boxes I wanted to store on the upper shelves of my closet. One box, while not really all that heavy was large and awkward, and required both of us to lift it.

It should have been no more than a casual contact between friends. When his chest brushed up against my back as we lifted the box up to the shelf the contact was like a jolt of lightning through my body. As soon as the box was in place I turned to face him. I met his gaze and knew that he had felt it too. He studied me for a moment and then his hand came up, his fingers grazing my neck as he gently rubbed his thumb across my lips.

I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t make myself pull away. It was like we were under some sort of spell as everything disappeared but the two of us. He leaned down to kiss me and my lips parted to receive his kiss. My arms came up to encircle his neck.

I heard him groan when my breasts brushed up against his chest and his arms encircled my waist—drawing me closer so that I was nearly crushed against him. The kiss took on a life of its own and we were lost in its madness. His mouth left mine and he trailed kisses down my neck causing shivers of pleasure throughout my body.

As he continued to nuzzle my neck, I reached for the buttons on his shirt, the need to feel the bare skin beneath the fabric overwhelming me. He stopped kissing my neck and his hand came up to my face again—tilting my chin upwards so he could see into my eyes. I saw raw, unfettered passion in his gaze as he gave me a chance to end the encounter. “Are you sure?” he asked.

My eyes never left his and my only response was to once again reach for the buttons on his shirt. I could think of no reason to stop. He continued to stare at me—standing motionless as I slowly unbuttoned the shirt and then slid my hands inside to stroke the finely corded muscles of his chest. With another groan he brought his mouth down to mine again, this time his tongue probing beyond my lips, inviting my tongue to dance with his.

Somehow I managed to slide the shirt off his shoulders without breaking the kiss. He broke contact only long enough to shrug his arms the rest of the way out of the shirt and then he wasted no time in drawing the T-shirt I was wearing up over my head and off. Then his mouth sought mine again, insistent and devouring. The passion was mutual and somehow we ended up beside the bed.

“Strip for me” he demanded, his voice hoarse and husky. I slowly removed the rest of my clothes, seldom taking my eyes from his face. The expression he was wearing reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning, getting the present he wanted most and least expected to find. Soon I stood naked in front of him and I reached for his belt. He stayed my hand, “No, I’ll do it. Get into bed.”

I got into bed while he shed the rest of his clothes and then he joined me on the bed. Our mouths came together again, teasing and tasting each other, his hands moving up and down my body in a tender, sweet caress. We were lost in each other.

Then a door slammed downstairs and the sound of running footsteps and laughter snapped me out of the passion-induced fog that I was lost in. How could I have forgotten that school was dismissing early today? I tried to move quickly but it was too late. Before I could even get out of the bed, my children stood before me; just inside the door of my bedroom. Shock and confusion was written on their faces. Dear God what had I just done? Moments before we hadn’t been able to thing of any reason to stop and now all I could think of was all the reasons it never should have happened.

The mistake I’d just made gave me a real education. Before this, my husband had been my only lover. I had wondered what it might be like with someone else and now I knew. I also knew that it would never be worth the price I was going to have to pay. Was one stupid act of misguided passion going to destroy two whole families? Could any moment of passion ever be worth the betrayal of a lifetime of love and trust? My children had seen us together; there was no way to keep my husband from finding out.

After all the time and effort I’d put into teaching my children honesty would I ever dare to ask them to lie to their father. Should I just tell him myself and pray that he forgives me? Telling him before he heard it somewhere else seemed to be the only answer.

Even though I hadn’t fully betrayed my husband, I had intended to and if not for the interruption I would have. And how could we convince anyone of anything different when we were found naked together on my bed.

I scooted back into the middle of the bed and buried my face in the pillow. I wanted to hide here forever. My tears of guilt and grief flowed freely—soaking into the smooth, red-satin pillowcase. I would never make this mistake again.