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Be careful what you wish for ... you might just get it. The problem I have now is that I wished for what I got so hard, that I now question my sanity. I committed the ultimate evil ... well okay, I helped; but I did it for something that in the cold light of day, turned out to be worthless.

Temporary insanity is probably what ruined my life. It was supercharged by a healthy dose of genuine, old-fashioned lust.

My only excuse is that we're all human. We all make mistakes. When you add to that the fact that ... shit, how do I say this. Okay, I've always been a princess. My Daddy treated me like a princess. Every man I ever dated did, and my husband did too. I was used to getting what I wanted when I wanted it.

My life has always been perfect. The house, I'm in right now was designed and built for me. It's not the biggest house, but it's very special. It's in a beautiful neighborhood in the most exclusive suburb in our state.

My husband busted his ass getting me this house, and I took it for granted. We got married five years ago when we were twenty five. We'd been together for three years. I met him at his graduation from college. I was there to watch a friend graduate, and we ran into each other. It was love at first sight.

I had never met a man who looked at me the way Terry did. I could see my future in his eyes. Terry was totally devoted to me. He wasn't the most handsome man I've ever met nor the biggest, but he worked so damned hard to impress me that I was bowled over.

Terry had a great career as an engineer, but he was the black sheep in his family. All of the men in his family are cops or firefighters.

Everything in our life was perfect until three months ago. Once again, it was a celebration and an unplanned meeting that destroyed everything. I was at an event at Terry's job where he was receiving an award for some modification he had made to some sort of car part. While, Terry stood up to receive his award and make a speech. I got up to see him more clearly and to get an unobstructed view of the stage, so I could take pictures of him.

I was so busy looking at my husband through the lens of the camera, that I wasn't watching where I was going. I backed into a mountain of a man. My camera flew, and I crashed to the floor.

I looked up and began muttering apologies only to stop in mid sentence. Leaning over me was the biggest, most beautiful man I had ever seen.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked as his voice was more a rumble than actual words. It sounded as if a mountain was talking. The timber and pitch of his voice reminded me of Barry White. He sounded more like boulders rolling down the side of a mountain than words.

He reached out a huge appendage that was more like a paw than a hand. Without even trying, he lifted me off the ground and back to my feet. I stood there watching him, too shocked even to speak.

"So are ya okay?" he rumbled. I did manage to nod several times. I was awash in waves of lust so powerful that they wiped out my ability to reason. I've heard of that happening, but I never believed it.

Someone handed me my broken and forgotten camera, while I stood there staring at him. "Uh sorry, for uhm bumping into you," I muttered.

"No harm done," he said. "Do you work here?"

"Uhm, I'm here with my ... uh husband," I blurted out. "Uhm ... him." I pointed at the stage nervously.

"Ohh!" he said. "Terry Stevens. The wonder boy himself. No wonder he's so driven. My brother talks about him all the time. But now that I've seen what he gets to come home to, I know why my brother has never had a chance."

His flattery got to me, and I'm sure I turned several shades of red. His physique seemed to be too primal to be contained in a suit. He looked as if he would burst the seams of the flimsy garment at any second.

"Do you work here?" I asked.

"I wish," he said. "I'm not nearly smart enough for something like that. I'm Fred Lee; I work at the health club downtown." He fished in his pocket and handed me a card. "Your first session is free," he said.

I locked the card inside of my sweaty palm as if it was solid gold.

"It was nice meeting you," he said. And then he walked away. I'm sure that if he had asked me to leave with him, I would have. My husband and the presentation and the speech he was delivering at that moment was forgotten.

Two days later, I had both, a membership in the club, and a place on his burgeoning client list. I later came to find that Fred's client list contained only wealthy women. Most of them were married and the majority of them were over forty. I was the youngest woman on his list at twenty-nine years old.

I wish I could say that he had to bust his ass to get me, but I'd be lying. Before I met Fred, I was so in love with Terry that I would never have considered having sex with another man; any other man. But from our first session, it was clear that we both knew that the two of us would end up in bed.

Our workout sessions, were merely foreplay and were abandoned as soon as Fred got into my pussy. Sex with Fred could hardly he called that. It was as if you needed a new word to describe it.

His dick was huge. It had to be almost as big as my forearm. And it hurt really badly the first few times, but I was quickly addicted to him.

Within a week, I was Fred's whore. I found myself dreaming of sucking his dick although I never did it. Fred wasn't really a foreplay guy. He always wanted to get inside of me as quickly as he could, and I couldn't say no to him.

Terry of course loved me, so it didn't take him very long to figure out that something was going on. He was also smart enough to pin down the fact that I had begun acting "weird," at about the same time that I joined the gym.

I was too blinded by lust to notice that Terry had, in fact, pinned it down. So when he walked into the gym and saw me kissing Fred, I was afraid to go home. Terry immediately went to the manager's office and canceled my membership.

He explained to the owner of the club why he was doing it. Once the owner of the club found out what was going on, he fired Fred. Fred had a huge client list, but Terry's company, through their health plan gave the club almost half of their business.

When Terry got home that evening, he didn't even speak to me. He changed clothes and immediately left again. I was in shock. I had prepared a story to explain what he had seen. But as I watched the blacked out tail lights of his 2014 Mustang rocket out of our driveway, I knew that I was in trouble.

Terry got back long after I had gone to bed. I had tried to stay up to wait for him, but I succumbed to stress, tension, and fear. I was up early the next morning and caught him coming out of the shower. He had slept in our guest room, which told me a lot.

For the next couple of days, Terry avoided me. He left before I awoke each morning and never actually settled in until after I was asleep. I finally cornered him about three days after it had happened. I had rehearsed what I was gong to say, but I never got the chance.

"Terry, what you saw..." I began.

"Britney, I think it would be better if you stayed with your parents for a few days," he said.

"But how are we going to work things out if we don't..." I began again. He held his hand up, which indicated that I should be quiet.

"Britney, before WE can begin to discuss HOW we can work things out; I have to decide IF we can work things out," he said. I was shocked. "To do that..." he continued. "I have to calm down and let my anger fade so I can make a rational decision instead of one that's based on an emotional reaction."

"But Terry, I..." I began.

"Don't Britney," he said. "You lost your right to say things like that. I'll call your parents and tell them to expect you. You can take your car."

I was floored. There had never been a time in my life when anyone didn't want me around them.

As he left he turned to me one last time. "I'm expecting a delivery this morning. I told the guy that there probably won't be anyone here. Not that it matters anymore, but I'll move it when I get home," he said.

My shock became fear. I had no idea what was going on with Terry. This wasn't like him at all. Terry didn't do or buy anything without discussing it with me. But I realized then that a lot of things weren't 't the way they were supposed to be.

As Terry drove off, the fact that he neither said nor kissed me good-bye wasn't lost on me. I considered ignoring what he'd told me to do. After all, it was my house too. Terry was my husband not my owner.

However, I realized that antagonizing him was not in my best interest. I had started to pack a few things when my cell phone rang.

"Hey Babe, can you talk?" asked Fred.

"Yes," I said.

"Old Terry, doesn't play, does he?" he asked. "Just so you know; we'll have to meet somewhere else from now on. My boss fired me."

I didn't know what to say. He started talking to me about his other opportunities and how easy it would be for him to switch to another club. I was amazed at the thought that I would still want to be with him. I was even more amazed when less than an hour later, we were having sex in my bed.

Fred looked around the house like a kid in a candy store. It was obvious that he was impressed with the house and the well maintained though modest yard.

As we were talking about what came next, a tow truck pulled through the gate and into my yard. As we watched from the window two men unloaded some kind of car. Fred started to kiss me, which I knew was only the beginning of him wanting more sex. I was distracted. I wanted to look under that car cover to see what Terry had bought.

For some reason, that car scared the shit out of me. I was still in shock that Terry had made a major purchase without checking with me. Terry and I did everything together. We made all of our decisions jointly. All of a sudden, he was doing things without even telling me, let alone conferring with me.

After the delivery guys left, I told Fred that I needed to leave too. It was a three-hour drive to my parent's house, and I hadn't packed anything yet. I also needed to clean up the room to make sure that Terry had no idea of what we'd done.

Fred promised to call me that night and left.

When I arrived at my parents' house, they didn't understand what was going on. My parents loved Terry, and me coming home had them worried. I told them that Terry was just working on a project and needed some space.

It worked for the first few days, but on Saturday morning, I awoke to find only my mother in the house.

"Where's dad?" I asked her over coffee.

"He drove down to the city to talk to Terry," she said. "Honey we know something is going on with you guys. You've been here for three days, and he hasn't called you once. You look like hell and that man worships the ground you walk on. Now this may be just as you said, but it may be something else too. Your dad just wants to help."

Dad got home at around eight o'clock that evening. He was all smiles. As he spoke to mom. "My God, the man has a 67!" he said.

"He has 67 what?" asked my Mom.

"Our son in law has managed to acquire himself a 1967 Mustang Fastback," said my dad excitedly.

"Doesn't he have a brand-new Mustang?" asked my mom. "Why does he want another one, especially one that's like 47 years old?"

I heard my dad telling her the next part in a lower voice. It was as if he didn't want me to hear him.

"I think he's trying to get over something. You know Terry. When something bothers him, he immerses himself in a new project. It's nothing to worry about," he said. My mom nodded and went into the kitchen to make him something to eat.

My dad came over to me then. "You need to go home tomorrow," he said. "I don't know what stupid thing you've done. But you need to fix it."

I was stunned. My dad had never spoken to me like that before. His face softened then.

"Britney, I love you, Baby, but Terry does too. In all of the time, the two of you have been together, I've never seen him like this. He always talks about what the two of you are going to do, and how much he loves you. You know that he, and I have a deal. Your first son is going to be named after me. However, today he was so different. He didn't talk about the future at all. He also didn't talk about you. It was almost as if you weren't going to be a part of his life in the future," he said.

I felt as if a cold hand had just grabbed my throat. It was too late to start the long drive then, but I packed my things and kissed my parents good-bye. I left very early the next morning. I didn't need to set an alarm because I didn't sleep a wink that night. I watched the clock. Before it was light, I was on the road.

Even with a stop to eat when the sun came up, I made good time. I did encounter some heavier traffic that slowed me down. By the time that I got to the house, it was just after 8 a.m.

The stop for breakfast had delayed me more than I'd thought. I had intended to arrive home before Terry left for work. The confusing thing for me was that Terry started work at 9. It only took him a half-hour to drive to work. He should have still been there.

At least, my key still worked. I walked into the house to a huge surprise. Our house normally looked ready for a magazine spread. Terry and I were both very neat people. We also had a cleaning lady who came in twice a week to handle the heavy cleaning. But when I walked in that morning, the place was a mess.

It looked like a drunken race car driver was living there. I had to thread my way through liquor bottles, car parts, car magazines, and pages of notes. And that was only the living room. The office was the same story. The kitchen looked as if someone had let their child loose in there. Well ... an alcoholic child. There were half eaten bowls of cereal, pizza boxes, and more liquor bottles.

I walked into our bedroom and had to take a serious look around. I didn't see a single thing out of place. It looked as if no one had been in the room since I left it. The drawer I had gotten some of my clothes out of was still half open, the way I had left it.

I went down the hall and saw that Terry had been sleeping in one of the other bedrooms. For some reason, that hurt me more than anything else had. I could have understood it if Terry had known that I'd had sex in our room with Fred. But since he didn't, it meant that as my Dad had warned, Terry was clearly ejecting me from his life and his heart. I needed to tread very carefully.

There was also the fact that I had no idea what I wanted to do. My head was constantly spinning. When I was around Fred, I couldn't think. It was as if my brain just shut off, and my pussy took over running things. When Fred wasn't around and my brain functioned, I knew that I was messing up.

I spent most of the day working to clean the house. Since I hadn't heard from Fred, I got a chance to think clearly. I realized that I was in trouble. But I didn't think it was anything that I couldn't get through. Terry and I had several couples in our circle where one of the partners had slipped and had a fling. The majority of them had been able to work through it. From what I understood, it wasn't an easy process, but they'd done it. I was sure that we could too.

I started making dinner as soon as I finished with the house. I made Terry's favorite meal, my pot roast with stewed vegetables. I also made myself as pretty as I had ever been. I did my makeup as if we were going out on the town. But I kept my clothing low key. I wore an older pair of shorts that Terry loved to see me in. And I wore one of his Mustang T-shirts on top. My whole look said that I was ready for my man.

I may as well have been wearing a burlap bag and a gorilla mask. I got nervous as I heard the sound of Terry's Mustang pulling into the driveway. He came in, looked right through me, dropped his briefcase off in the office, and headed up the stairs. I was floored. I began to think that maybe he hadn't seen me. Maybe he didn't realize that I was back.

A few moments later, he came bounding back down the stairs. He looked around and found his iPod, clipped it to his running shorts and left the house. I couldn't figure it out. Terry usually spent some time with me before he went out to run. This was the time when we sat down and talked about our day and what we'd done while we'd been apart.

If we were going out, he did come home and do his run just to get it out of the way. But I had no idea where we were going that he needed to run this early. At any rate, it was a good thing. With his run out of the way, we could sit down and talk.

However, when he came back it was like something out of a movie. He walked right past me, ignoring my greeting. I felt like one of those characters in a movie where a person is dead and doesn't know it. They try to communicate with the people around them only to find out that no one can see them or hear them.

He went into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and ordered a pizza. Then he went upstairs and took a shower. Almost as if he'd done it so many times that he had the timing down he bounced back down the stairs in an old T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, just as the pizza guy rang the door bell.

He carried the pizza and a soda he grabbed from the refrigerator straight out to the garage. I was floored. He was singing a song as he passed me.

"Never know if you're a victim or the fool, I only know I can't stop thinking about you,

Love was good and you take it on the run, but I fell too hard I guess I ain't the one."

Terry did that. He picked out songs that reflected the way he felt to listen to while he ran or while he worked. I wish I knew what God damned song he was listening to so it could tell me a lot about his mood and how he was feeling. That would let me know whether it was going to be hard for me to fix things, or if it was just going to take time.

I waited for a while and then opened the door to the garage just a crack. I saw Terry sitting there on his stool. He had a wrench in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. Our usually immaculate garage had all kinds of parts strewn all over it.

I was expecting him to be working on his new project, but he seemed to be taking it apart. I had no idea why he would buy a car just to take it apart. I was sure that it had something to do with blocking me out of his mind, though.

I just needed to wait him out. That was what he'd told me in the first place. When he was ready, we'd talk. We would probably talk that night. How long could he stay out there in the garage?

A long ass time, it seemed. He totally immersed himself in his music and his project. By the time I could no longer keep my eyes open, he was still out there, mumbling along to the music from his iPod and taking that car apart.

When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone. I had to admit that what was going on wasn't what I had imagined. I had expected for there to be a lot of yelling and talking and some hand wringing before we decided that we were both to blame. It was mostly me but in some ways Terry was also to blame. We would rededicate ourselves to our marriage and each other, and things would slowly go back to normal.

Sometime in the future, Terry would do the same thing, and I would forgive him. Our marriage would be stronger for it. But apparently, Terry had no idea of how a normal marriage worked. I sat down at my kitchen table with no idea of what would happen next.

The ringing of my phone at least gave me something to take my mind off of what was going on.

"Hey Babe, sorry I've been out of touch for the past couple of days. But your little husband really did a number on me," said Fred. Just hearing his voice excited me. I knew that I should hang up on him, but I was a woman who needed and deserved a lot of attention. Besides just listening to him couldn't do any harm. I also wanted to know what the hell he was talking about.

"I can't find a job anywhere," he said. "No health club or gym in town will hire me. My personal training clients are dropping me like a hot rock because I'm not allowed to train them anywhere. Not only will most of the clubs not put me on staff; they won't allow me to work out of them. They're all worried about being sued if I put the moves on the wrong old lady. I ought to kick your husband's ass."

I had to admit that I was surprised. Terry was a handsome and charming man. That was why I married him. But I never would have expected him to handle Fred so effortlessly. I guess I had imagined any conflict between them as being a physical one and that Fred would easily mop up the floor with my husband.

That had also given me the idea in the back of my mind that Fred deserved me more, being the better man. But Terry ruined Fred without even working up a sweat. It was all I could do not to laugh.

"Is he home?" asked Fred. I was sure that I detected a bit of fear in his tone.

"Nope, he's at work," I said.

"Good, I'll be there in ten," he said.

Ten minutes later, he showed up at the door. The results were predictable. The problem was that Fred was like a drug. The first few times had been powerful and overwhelming. However, this time, it was different. By this time I'd seen his entire bag of tricks, and although he filled my pussy more than any man I had ever known, I had noticed something about it. There was something lacking. It wasn't a physical thing, but there was just something missing.

It began to feel ... the same. It was as if we'd done it enough times for me not to be surprised or swept up in it. Maybe it was the fact that the man I thought was practically invulnerable, was showing his vulnerability. The man who had dominated me and seemed like a force of nature had been defeated, demoralized, and dominated himself, by Terry.

Meanwhile, I had begun to notice exactly how sexy the man I married is. The real problem was that he no longer wanted anything to do with me.

I couldn't believe it, but as that huge mountain of a man pounded away at me, I began to imagine Terry in his place.

"So how are things going with the husband?" he asked when we were finished.

"He's so angry that he doesn't even speak to me," I said. "It's as if I was a ghost."

"He's trying to burn you out of his heart," he smirked. "Interesting. I wonder if he'll make it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"Some of the men in his situation discover some sort of backbone," he said. "They try different things. I've had a couple of guys try to fight me. A couple of smarter ones paid me to leave their wives alone. There was one guy who hired a hit man to take me out. That was bad. I ended up having to move back here. But your little hubby. He's smart as a fuckin' tack. And he has balls. Big giant king-sized balls."

"Whah?" I asked.

"Don't you see it?" he asked. "The guy walked into that club, took one look at me, sized me up, and went to war. He realized that the two of us brawling wouldn't be a good thing for him, so he fought me on a different level.

"I took something from him, so he took more back from me. I took one woman from him, or at least, that was the way I looked at it. He took or tried to take all of my women away from me. That motherfucker is scary. In less than five minutes, he seems to have fucked up my world and my livelihood. Every club in town ... every club in the state said not only no, but hell no, to me. I even offered to work for free in some of them if I can train my clients in them.

"And now you're telling me something that I should have expected," he said.

"What's that?" I asked. I was mildly amused at the unease in his voice.

"Besides a backbone, he seems to have a lot of self-respect," he said.

"Of course he does," I said. "I wouldn't have married a man who didn't respect himself."

He just laughed. "You have no idea what's going on, do you?" he asked. "He loves you, or loved you. You were his biggest weakness, but he feels like you betrayed him. Some men would struggle with that. The love would battle with that self-respect. Apparently in his case, the self-respect seems to have won. He's burning you out of his heart. He's simply not the forgiving type."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I think he's done with you," he smirked. He saw my reaction and laughed. "Face it, Honey. You've used all of your moves. You dolled yourself up and made yourself all sexy, and he didn't give a damn. Your charm has worn off for him."

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Shit, why are you asking me?" he asked. "How the hell should I know? I've never been in love in my whole life."

"But you..." I began. "You... ?"

"What? You can say it. I fucked you. I never once told you that I was in love with you or any of that shit. If you're looking for love, ya ain't gonna get it from me."

"You ruined my life, " I screamed.

"If you were so God damned happy, you should have kept your legs closed," he said. "Besides, ignoring you, what else has he done?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"This could go at least two ways," he told me. "He could just be giving you the silent treatment as the first part of your punishment. If that's it, he could be planning some really unpleasant things for you before he forgives you. That would be the best-case scenario. Has he locked you out of the bank accounts or anything like that?"

"No, all of my cards still work," I told him.

"Good, give me some money," he said.

"Why should I give you a dime?" I asked.

"Because I'm the one advising you and helping you through this," he said. "Face it lady, I'm all you've got right now."

I had to admit that the advice he gave me made sense. Over the next few days, Fred became like my best girlfriend. Well ... like a girlfriend who fucked me. Okay a girlfriend who fucked me and kept taking money from me.

We came up with all kinds of things I could do to get Terry to forgive me. The problem was that none of them worked. Then came the day that the shit really hit the fan. I was waiting for Fred to come over and dreading having sex with him when the car pulled up.

A woman got out of the car. She was a few years younger than I am. She looked like a college student. As she got closer, I could tell she was chewing gum. I remembered chewing a lot of gum when I was in school.

"Hey, are you Britney Stevens?" she asked. I just nodded.

"I don't believe you," she said. "You look like you, there's no way you're thirty."

"I am," I said smiling. "Do you want to see my license?"

"Yeah!" She said and cracked her gum a couple of times really loudly. "Your husband sent me to deliver something to you and you don't look old enough to be thirty years old."

The flattery, combined with the fact that she'd said Terry was sending me something sent me reeling. It was just like Terry. He was always sending me flowers or invitations to come to lunch or dinner with him. The fact that he was actually communicating with me gave me hope that I could see light at the end of the tunnel. I got my wallet and showed her my driver's license.

"Wow, great picture," she said. "You are Britney Stevens; you are thirty years old, and you are SERVED," she said handing me a folder full of papers. She cracked her gum loudly and walked off. By the time I got my head out of my ass long enough to feel stupid about the way that she played me, she was back in her car and pulling away.

For a long time, I just stood there, clutching the folder. Tears sprang unbidden from my eyes. The heat of the tears surprised me. It had been a long time since I had cried. In fact, my entire marriage to Terry had been one long period of happiness. I couldn't believe that he wanted to end it.

It was only sex. This was no reason for us to divorce. This was only a misunderstanding. We just saw things differently. In our pre-marriage counseling they had warned us against letting our differences separate us.

If I caught Terry fucking that red-headed secretary of his, I wouldn't have divorced him. I'd have made him fire her, but I wouldn't have divorced him. Terry's secretary was so obviously in love with him that it was funny. Terry like most men was oblivious to it. She was; I had to admit a really pretty woman, and she was younger than I am. But Terry was so in love with me that she could have shown up for work without panties and wearing a "Fuck Me," T-shirt, and he wouldn't have noticed.

The main reason that I kept her around was because she was my cat. With her around none of the mice could get close to Terry. She watched him like a hawk to make sure that none of those smart, sexy female engineers or those young nubile interns could get near him. And now Terry wanted a divorce. How would I face my family and friends?