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Church visitor finds truth in a nursing home.

I somehow persuaded Gerald that the guys would get the work finished over the weekend while we went to a nice hotel on the coast for a little getaway. Naturally without me to continually service, the work was done by Sunday lunchtime!

It should be obvious to you by now that I'm not the most faithful of housewives. The sad truth is that while I love Gerald, I love going behind his back as much. I'm not a nymphomaniac; I don't go around seeking sexual gratification where I can find it. It's the illicit thrill of what I'm doing that gets me. Gerald is a good man who works hard and deserves a good wife. That I, a wife who treats him well on the surface and who he adores, regularly betray him and cuckold him with impunity, that's what does it for me. Does that make me a bad person? I've reflected on this at length and come to the conclusion that it probably does, but aren't we all bad to a lesser or greater extent? I make Gerald happy, I'm a good mother and I donate money and time to worthy causes. I don't engineer opportunities to cheat on my husband, I just tend to find myself in them and often have trouble resisting when I feel that there will be no consequences. There are no black and white situations; there are only shades of grey. Is this all mere self-justification, the soothing of a guilty conscience? Perhaps, but it appears to be working. I don't spend my time racked with guilt. If a neutral observer were to judge me, this might be the most damning indictment. This is not meant to be a psychological study of the cheating wife, so enough about my dark inner-workings!

I had resigned myself to slogging away in this big lonely house for the summer when Gerald announced that he had found a solution. His sister, Anne, had mentioned that her son, William, would need something to occupy his time while off school for the summer. Gerald had suggested that William come to stay at ours for the summer and help with the redecorating, which Anne agreed was an ideal solution. Needless to say I was delighted, this would mean I had a full-time assistant instead of the part-time one I'd been hoping for, and also meant that I would have company for the summer while Gerald was away.

"Are you sure William doesn't mind coming here for the summer?" I asked Gerald that evening, as we lay in bed, "Wouldn't he prefer staying closer to home? He must have friends he'd like to spend time with."

"Apparently not, Anne says he's positively delighted with the idea and can't wait to come down. I'd imagine he's pretty happy with the prospect of being out of his mother's way for a couple of months. You know how fierce Anne can be!"

"Oh Gerald, your sister's not that bad, although I guess she does have a domineering streak to her!"

"You can say that again. Of course, I'm sure William is probably just as excited about the prospect of spending time with his beautiful young aunt! Young boys and all that," laughed Gerald, playfully squeezing my left breast.

"Gerald, the very idea, "I mock-scolded him, "William is only a boy, he probably thinks I'm an old woman!"

"Hah, "exclaimed Gerald, "William's not that young any more and I remember when I was his age I was horny as a goat and had the hots for more than one of my mothers friends."

"Horny as a goat, were you?" I reached over and slid my hand inside the front of Gerald's underwear. I wrapped my hand around him, felt him growing to his usual small erection and looked into his eyes. "It feels like the old goat has some life in him yet!"

The truth was that the turn the conversation had taken had stirred something in me.

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