MY Wife's Dark Secrets

Chapter 2

The following day I got up early and made breakfast for everyone. Jayden came out in a haste finishing up his tie, ready for work and was greeted with coffee and pancakes topped with bananas and almond butter.

"Aren't you going into the office today, babe?" Jayden asked, filling his mouth and glancing at me. I was wearing grey low-slung jeans, flip-flops and a white V-neck T. It was a casually seductive outfit I instantly realized. I liked Jayden feasting his eyes on me like a s****l object and not as a wife, mom and career woman.

"I have a conference call with Arusha that is too early. I will do it from home." I elucidated.

It wasn't a lie. We had a conference call with our new corporate ownership located in Tanzania. It was one of those calls where I only needed to hearken. And I excogitated to be all ears while inflaming Jayden's office desktop and salvaging his passwords.

I stowed the lunches, quickened everyone out the door, buckled Alycia into her seat and watched Jayden attentively back out of the ramp with our treasured cargo. Safe, reliable and worthy was my Jayden. Worthy of getting his mind blown because as soon I learned about his s****l fantasies this sexy hot momma was going to fulfill them one by one.

Alone I darted back into the house.

In truth I was anxious. What would I find out about my Jayden? Threesome was my prediction. All guys fantasize about having a threesome.

I could do that. I would if the other woman was attractive and clean. Maybe I could even persuade my old campus girlfriend Amelia to do it with us. She disliked my husband but I knew Jayden had the hots for her.

Maybe it entailed some sadism and masochism?

That would lead me to do some impressive shopping for leather attires and handcuffs.

I hoped his s****l obsession didn't entail anything too uncanny, like midgets. If he was into midgets then maybe I could stomach taking him out to Livingstone where a place like the Niko's had stuff like that on the menu. But I would have to wait in the car.

The speculation was killing me.

"Hello Lusaka, this is Arusha." A deep Germanic voice reverberated from my speakerphone.

The new head of our department was a man named Johannes. He had the kind of voice you would envision coming from a classic Grimm fairy tale giant. That deep voice was all we knew about him. There were no pictures on the company website or on LinkedIn. The girls in the office had done a thorough search.

"Let's do the roll call, yes?"

Johannes's management style was of the prisoner-of-war camp heterogeneity. I waited my turn to dutifully pronounce my name for him but my mind and my eyes were rooted on Jayden's computer monitor as his system rebooted.

The others on the conference call ticked off their names.

"Marie Bennett here, sir."

"Bree Melda present, sir."

"Steve Jackson here, sir."

Then the roll call came to a long pause.

"Lina Brooke are you here?" Johannes asked in his accent.

I was goggling at the monitor.

HotwifeLina was his password. His password had me in it? I was astonished, dumbstruck and I couldn't even hear Johannes call my name again, his baritone combining with the continuous murmuring sound in my brain.

Wow. On his computer that he mostly used for pornographic raison d'être, my husband password secured it with an aide-memoire to himself that I was his wife and that I am hot stuff. How extremely thoughtful and endearing.

But the username I couldn't understand. CornutoJayden. What did my husband convey by that?

"Mrs. Lina Brooke, are you here?"

Johannes sounded enraged.

"Here..." I stammered, "Lina Brooke, present, sir."

*

At two o'clock in the afternoon I eventually turn off Jayden's computer. Hours earlier I had emailed work that I was out unwell and now it felt true. My stomach was doing cartwheels.

I went direct to the gym. I needed to clear my head.

On the treadmill I tried to outrun my thoughts. With my headphones blasting I let my gasps and grunts fill the mostly empty cardio room. My ponytail thrashed and my sweat shinked.

Lucas, the top trainer at the gym, passed by and gave me a head nod. It was the first time the man ever acknowledged me though I'd seen him around more than a dozen times. I guess he gave props to anyone who was giving it their all like I was today.

Watching Lucas continue on his way to the weight room, I couldn't help but wonder, was his black c**k anything like the enormous black c***s I'd seen on my husband's computer? I clicked my rate of speed up a notch and concentrated on my stride.

Thankfully for my racing heart the samba class next door ended and who should come prancing out among the bevy of sweaty ladies but Amelia. She walked right up to my treadmill and waited, coquettishly.

She knew, of course, about my Mission Impossible plans. She was my college roommate. I tell her everything. Amelia being Amelia was all too curious about what I'd find.

You see Amelia has a theory that the nicest, most lenitively mannered guys are the ones who are the most perverted. Her theory meant that my Jayden was going to be, to borrow her phrasing, "a total sicko."

I hit the emergency stop button and took deep breaths while meeting her sparkling, pregnant green eyes. Amelia was a striking red head, with hair in tight kinky curls, alabaster white skin and nice cleavage that at the moment had a wet pyramid of sweat on her workout tank top.

"So? Was I right or was I right?"

I couldn't hold it in any longer and I just broke out into laughter.

***

Outside in the sunlight sitting on a bench with ice-cold smoothies in our hands, Amelia looked around to see if anyone we knew was within earshot.

"Describe. In detail. Now."

I took a breath and fathomed myself.

"Well, it's kind of like swinging but it isn't. At first, I thought he was into wife swapping websites but then after navigating deeper into it I became aware there was something odd taking place here. Have you ever heard of a hotwife?"

"Is that like a MILF?" Amelia was so perplexed.

"Good guess but no. A hotwife is a married female swinger. I mean, a wife who dates and has s*x with men other than her husband."

"So, a woman who cheats?"

"No, I didn't say that. It's with the husband's approval"

I felt like one of our university professors at Copperbelt leading a seminar. I had been so sunk in my husband's secret fetish all day that I had become utterly the expert. Still, I was striving to process what I had learned. There was quite a lot of visual data in my head to cycle through. Images of wives having s*x in the master bedroom while their husbands sat in a corner watching were a common refrain.

Many pictures had captions. There was a whole set of images of gorgeous women putting on lingerie with text indicating that they were preparing for a date with a lover right in front of their husbands. And of course, the interracial pictures, often artful, majestic pictures of black men towering over white women, their petite hands hoisting up massive phalluses.

"The girls, the women, in the vast majority of the pictures and in videos, stuff he bookmarked in his favorites, so many of those cheating wives looked like me. Petite, pretty, brunettes."

"Oh?" Then, as this sank in, she said it again but more suggestively. "Oh, I see. He wants you to cheat on him."

"That's what a cornuto is, apparently. A guy who knows his wife is cheating on him and yet he remains completely faithful."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I giggled. "Really."

"That is awesome!" Amelia put her hand up for a high five. I tentatively met her up high for a slap. "Sooo..." She uttered insinuatively.

"So... what?" Now it was my turn to be perplexed.

"Don't play dumb." Amelia said poking me. "You got into this whole thing so you could fulfill your husband's secret little pervy fantasy, whatever it might be. Those were your words, almost exactly."

"Amelia!" I looked around to see if anyone was listening and whispered back at her, "I can't cheat on Jayden!"

"Apparently, yes you can."

I just stared at her, my mouth gaping, like I couldn't believe she just said that.

"He is the father of my child, Amelia. My marriage may mean little to you but it's my entire life."

"Hey, this is his fantasy, not mine or yours. What kind of man gives his permission for that kind of stuff? Is he gay?"

"No. Jayden's not gay. I don't get it but I was reading up on it. There was a blog that was saying it was a natural yearning that many men have. Something about beta-males and alpha-males and the metamorphosis reasons for the botany of this desire..."

"Whatever." Amelia wasn't a deep thinker even with our gentry Copperbelt University education.

"Whatever yourself," I said feeling a bit catty. "All I know is this. Jayden is a good man. The sweetest guy in the world and I do not want to break his heart. So, the answer is no, I won't be shagging some stranger anytime soon."

Amelia kept quiet. For a person who wasn't a deep thinker, she appeared bemused. Whatever she had baking in that oven encephalon of hers was sure to be detrimental and tropical and dished out at once.

"Got an idea." She uttered. "Want to hear it?"