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This is a Valentine’s Day contest story. Please give me the support of your vote.

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What does roses, yellow roses, booze, lots of beer, incestuous sex, sex with mother-in-law and sister-in-law, and pigeons, toy pigeons and real pigeons, have in common? Husband confesses his sexual transgressions and finally apologizes to his wife in hoping for her forgiveness.

“Hi Sweets. Happy Valentine’s Day,” said John giving his wife a loving smile.

He looked at her waiting for her to say something. She always had plenty to say but today, not even giving him a happy hello, seemingly, she wasn’t talking. He had done plenty for her not to talk to him, for give him the cold shoulder, and the silent treatment. Yet, with today being Valentine’s Day and with him ready to tell her all that he did and apologize for his sexual transgressions, he was hoping she’d forgive him. It seemed strange for her to be so silently suppressed when she was always such a blabbermouth and opinionated.

“I brought you flowers,” he said looking at his solitary, yellow rose. “Actually, it’s just one flower, but it’s a yellow rose, your favorite. And knowing how fond you are of birds, especially parrots, I bought you a parrot. They’re not easy to find, the yellow roses not the parrot,” he said looking from his wife to look at the bird.

He paused to look at her with sadness.

“I would have bought you a dozen, yellow roses but the florist said that a guy bought his last dozen two minutes before me. Had I not stopped to buy the parrot, I would gotten there in time to buy you the dozen, yellow roses. Only, I didn’t want to leave the flowers in the car to buy the bird so I bought the bird first.”

Always looking to blame someone for his mistakes, even a bird, he looked at the bird as if blaming the bird for him not buying his wife a dozen, yellow roses.

“Everyone carries red roses on Valentine’s Day,” he said looking from the flowers and the stuffed, toy bird to look back at her again. “No one has yellow roses.”

As if he had been deceived, he looked at the stuffed bird with sudden disappointment.

“As you can see Fiona, um, it’s not a real parrot. You’ve always wanted a real parrot but parrots are so very expensive to buy and to maintain,” he said holding the stuffed bird up to her while examining it. “It’s just a toy parrot. Although, now that I look at it in the light of day, instead of in a crowded toy store, it’s not very colorful in the way that parrots typically are.

He looked from the toy bird to look at his wife before returning his attention to the toy.

“It doesn’t look very much like a parrot,” he said turning the stuffed toy in his hand to better examine it. “Actually, it doesn’t look anything like a parrot. It looks more like a pigeon,” he said laughing while looking at the toy bird again before looking at his beloved Fiona and hoping that she’d laugh with him.

He examined the toy and read the tags on the bottom of the bird while looking for proof that it was a parrot instead of a pigeon. There were two tags on the bird, one with the materials used to make the bird and the other with the country where the bird was made in China, along with the type of bird imprinted on one of the tags. It read pigeon. Pigeon?

Embarrassed, he looked at his wife with disappointment. What he thought was a stuffed parrot was indeed a stuffed pigeon. Clearly, had he taken the time to read the tag before, when in the store, he would have clearly seen that the tag read pigeon instead of parrot. Only, as always, hating shopping, he grabbed the first stuffed toy that resembled a bird.

“Sorry Fi. If I knew it was a pigeon, I wouldn’t have bought the stuffed bird. I mean, other than a magician who only buys doves, who buys a stuffed pigeon? Right? Maybe an old person who always went to the park to feed the pigeons but can no longer go to the park and sit on a bench would buy a toy pigeon,” he said.

Hoping to make her happy with his yellow rose and toy parrot that was a pigeon instead, he gave his wife a sad smile when she didn’t seem amused or appreciative of his trouble and good intentions on Valentine’s Day.

“To be honest, you know me with shopping, grabbing the first thing I can find and beating it the Hell out of there, I couldn’t find a parrot,” he said without apology. “I dunno, maybe if I stayed longer to look, I would have found a parrot instead of a pigeon but I didn’t stay long enough or looked hard enough to find a parrot,” he said with a shrug.

He looked at her with as much sadness as he looked at her with guilt.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t buy you a Valentine’s Day card. You know me and greeting cards. There’re all so sappy,” he said with a shrug. “There’s too many of them to read and I get a headache from reading them all. Usually, I just run in, grab the first one I see, and buy that,” he said.

He laughed while remembering the time he thought he bought her one greeting card but bought her another greeting card instead.

“I remember how mad you got the time I bought you a Happy Birthday Mother card instead of a Happy Birthday Wife Card,” he said with a laugh. “It wasn’t funny at the time but it’s funny now years later. Now we’ll be talking about how I bought you a stuff pigeon instead of a stuffed parrot,” he said laughing but stopped when she didn’t laugh.

Waiting for her to say something to break the ice and to make him feel more at ease, he looked at her. What he was about to say was hard for him to say without her having an attitude but he somehow found the courage to say what he needed to say anyway. It amazed him that he was uncomfortable talking to a woman that he’s known for nearly fifty years. Instead of beating around the bush about it and with this being Valentine’s Day anyway, the day of love, he prefaced what he wanted to say with sincerity and with aplomb.

“I love you Fiona. I’ve always loved you. And I will always love you, Fi. You were always the one for me,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day Sweets. These are for you,” he said putting the flowers and bird down to remove his handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

While thinking of all that he needed to say and all that he needed to tell her, he folded his handkerchief and returned it to his back pocket. Even though she didn’t show it, John knew he made his wife happy buying her a single, yellow rose, along with the stuffed, toy bird, even if it was a stupid pigeon and not a parrot. She loved birds and always had some sort of bird in a cage in the house, usually canaries or parakeets.

Even though she didn’t respond to his words with her words of undying love, he knew she loved him, always loved him, and will always love him. Since the time they first dated at 18-years-old, with her a virgin when he married her three years later, he’s been the only man in her life. Now married forty-seven years, he’ll be the only man in her life.

“Before I go off on another tangent, I, um, have some things to say to you that I’ve been wanting to get off my chest for forty years. Please don’t say anything Fiona. Please. Just listen and let me talk,” he said and wanting to add, let me talk for once, but he didn’t. “Otherwise, if you interrupt me, I’ll never say all that I need to say to you. Okay?”

Seemingly her silence was her answer that she was giving him his chance to speak uninterrupted. Thinking about all that he wanted to say and needed to tell her, he remained silent while looking down at his feet before looking up at her. Unaccustomed to talking when with his wife, she’s the one who always did all of the talking. Most of the time he just listened while nodding his head and acting as if he was paying attention to all that she was saying.

Yakety-yak, yak, yak, she was always talking to him and talking at him. Man that woman could talk. Even when he wasn’t there with her, he could still hear her voice in his head yapping at him. Even when he was sleeping she was still talking to him in his sleep. Even when he was drunk, he heard her voice in his head.

‘Don’t do this and don’t do that. Where you going? What time will you be home?’ As if he was a child, she was always telling him what to do and what not to do. Then, when he finally came home, she’d interrogate him as if he had committed a crime. He always hated that kind of inquisition from his little woman when he was the man of the house.

“This is really hard for me to come clean after all of these years, Fi. First of all, something I’m very proud of and something I never thought I’d achieve, I’m five years sober, actually, five years, two months, three days, and 8 hours,” he said looking at his watch before looking up at her with a proud smile. “With me drinking for 54-years of my life, since the time I was 14-years-old, less the 5 years that I’ve been sober, I’ve had a buzz on or been drunk for 49 years,” he said with a sad laugh. “Better late than never to turn my life around,” he said with pride and with a laugh.

He looked at her to see how she reacted to his good news but when she didn’t say anything, he thought about all that he needed to tell her, if only she’d continue to give him the chance to talk. With his drinking a sore point with her for so long, he understood her silence. He understood her not being happy for him when he’s fallen off the wagon so very many times before and with her being with him every step of his drunken way to pick him out of the gutter again and again.

Actually, now that he thought about it, this is the first time that she’s allowing him to speak uninterrupted. Always interrupting him before, it’s hard enough for him to keep a thought in his head and to remember what it was he wanted to say with her talking to him and talking at him. Maybe today is the day that he’ll finally tell her all that he needs to tell her.

“I bet you’d never thought you’d hear me say that I haven’t had one drop of booze in more than five years. Trust me, it hasn’t been easy but I did it. You know me never wanting to go to church, but once I removed the God thing from the twelve step program, something finally just clicked,” he said nodding his head as if he was talking more to himself than to her.

In a sense he blamed God as his reason for failing the Alcoholic Anonymous twelve step program in the past. With him once an altar boy and sexually abused by a priest, instead of seeking therapy, drinking was his way of forgetting all that happened to him. Instead of confronting what happened head-on, drinking was his way to ease his pain. Drinking numbed him from feeling the horrors of his childhood that haunted him like boogiemen in the night.

“Day by day and one step at a time finally worked for me after falling off the wagon more than I care to count. Along with having a good sponsor and faithfully attending the AA meetings, I finally got the hang of the being sober. It helps that my drinking buddies are all dead from alcohol related illnesses, my wakeup call,” he said with sadness while remembering his drinking buddies.

He removed his hat, bowed his head, closed his eyes, and fell silent in a moment of silence in honor of men that he spent more time with at the bar than he did with his wife and children. With him always working and drinking at the bar when not working, he never went anywhere with his wife. He never went anywhere but to work, to the bar, and then home to do it all over again the next day. Once, in all the years, he took her to the bar to introduce her to his drunken friends and she never went again.

He invited her lots of times but she didn’t like his friends, his drinking buddies really, in the way that he was always so close to them. Not wanting him drinking and not wanting to encourage him to drink, she wished he’d just come home. Only and obviously, he’d rather be at the bar with his drinking buddies than being at home with her and his three children. If he was going to drink, she’d rather him drink at home than to drink at some bar and drive home drunk.

He lifted his chin, opened his eyes, and put his hat back on his head. Then, he reached in his back pocket to retrieve his handkerchief again. He wiped the tears from his eyes before blowing his nose again. He folded his handkerchief and returned it to his back pocket.

As if he was standing on hallowed ground or at a baseball game just before they were about to start the National Anthem and sing God Bless America, he removed his baseball cap again. Unsure how to begin, he looked at her and scratched his head before donning his baseball cap again and before continuing to speak. He only hoped she’d understand. He only hoped she’d forgive him. He only hoped she didn’t ask him to leave and never return again.

He’d be brokenhearted if she stopped talking to him, even if only in his head. In the way of having a second conscience, he’d be brokenhearted if he never heard her sweet voice ever again. Her sweet voice is the reason why he nicknamed her Sweets. She had a beautiful singing voice too and should have been a singer instead of spending her life as a housewife and mother.

Perhaps if he had emotionally supported her by encouraging her to sing, she would have sung as much as her canaries and parakeets sung. Perhaps if he had physically supported by being there to help care for the children instead of drinking at the bar, she would have found the time to pursue her dream of singing. As much as his life would have been better without the booze, assuredly her life and the lives of his children would have been better too. Yet, to his credit, something he did that most drunks don’t do, the only support he gave her and their children, he did support his family financially.

“We’ve been together a long time Fi. Almost five decades, I’ve known you all of my life, since we were 18-year-old kids. I realized I wasn’t there for you and the kids. I know that. I used work as an excuse and going out drinking with my friends to relax after work as another sorry excuse not to be at home with you and the kids,” he said looking at her while waiting for her reaction to his sudden confession.

When she remained silent and didn’t say anything to him, with her still not interrupting him as she always did, he continued talking.

“I wasn’t the best husband or the best father, an understatement. I know that. I wasn’t even a good husband or a good father never mind being the best husband or father. I was a pitiful excuse for a husband and a father. I know that, I admit that, and I’m sorry for that now. Truly, I am sorry that I was never there for you and the kids,” he said with recent reality and with newfound sincerity, now that he’s sober and not drinking.

A big deal for him to admit his faults, John looked down at his feet with shame, remorse, and humility while hoping for her forgiveness. One of the things that he needed to do in his Alcoholic Anonymous program, he needed to apologize to and make amends with all the people that he’s hurt due to his drinking. At the top of the list was his beautiful wife, Fiona and his three children, Jimmy, Joan, and Maureen. Before apologizing to his children, he needed to apologize to his beautiful wife first. With her the love of his life, if it wasn’t for her pulling him out of the gutter and cleaning him up to make him look presentable, he would have been dead years ago. He’s still alive today because of her.

“Yet, somehow, unlike so many of my friends who were drunks like me and couldn’t hold down a job, always able to keep a good job and earn good money, I always put food on the table and kept a roof over your head. Unlike other women, you didn’t have to go out and work,” he said proud that he supported his family with at least money if not all of the other things that go with the support of a marriage and with being a father. “And other than the few dollars that I kept to buy my beer, something none of my sorry friends did, I turned over my whole paycheck to you every week.”

He justified him not being there physically and emotionally seemingly okay because he gave her money. Without even looking at her, he could feel her staring at him. With her always there in his thoughts, whether sleeping or awake, she was the biggest part of him. He knew she was upset with him always disappearing on her and abandoning her for days and weeks at a time. Knowing he had hurt her deeply, without her even saying anything, he knew what she was thinking. He knew she was angry with him for not helping her around the house and/or helping her to raise their three children.

Her whole life was her family and his whole life was drinking when he wasn’t working. She raised three beautiful children alone and he has nothing to show for his life but a bad liver, a bum heart, and a bad back from sitting for hours on a barstool. Before he died, suddenly, just keeled over in his house, on the street, or in his car, he needed to come clean while he still could and apologize to his beloved wife, the love of his life.

“I made some mistakes. I know that,” he said. “I made some pretty bad mistakes, what politicians call lapses in judgment. Well, being that I didn’t have any judgment to lapse, I was just a drunk. I was always drunk. I’m not proud of some of the things I did. I did some horrible things. I did plenty of things that were bad and some pretty bad things that I never wanted you to know I did,” he said looking up at her before continuing.

Not sure how to say everything he wanted to say, he was just glad that she was finally giving him a chance to speak, to clear his conscience, and to lighten his load. He was glad that she wasn’t interrupting him and interrogating him in the way she always did. Something he was never allowed to do before, to talk to her in the way that he was talking to her now, with him enjoying his newfound freedom to clear his mind, he continued talking.

“The odd thing is that I never felt guilty about the things that I did when I was doing them. Even after I did them, I never had that guilty conscience in the way that I do now and feel horrible about all the things that I did,” he said with tears in his eyes.

He took a moment to calm himself and to collect his thoughts.

“This is hard, Fiona, really hard for me to bear my soul before you. There’s no easy way for me to say any of this, so I may as well just say it. I may as just finally tell you. Okay? Just give me a minute,” he said reaching for his handkerchief again to blow his nose and dry his eyes.

As if he was in church, he removed his hat again to clutch it in his hands. As if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, nervous with all that he was about to tell his wife, he put his hat back on his head and his hands in his pockets. He looked up at her and stared right at her before staring right through her. Not saying anything, he didn’t say a word. Even though he was ashamed and embarrassed, he had to tell her. This was it. Now or never, if he didn’t tell her everything now, he never would. Now that he was sober and needed to make amends, she needed to know all of the despicably, dastardly deeds he did for her to forgive him.

He couldn’t keep all that he did as a secret from her anymore. He needed her to know the disgraceful man he is for her to forgive him and for him to get on with his life. Even though all that he did was beyond her forgiveness, he hoped that she’d forgive him. If not forgiving him, he hoped that she’d at least understand why he did the things he did. Ready to accept the blame but even though much of it was his fault, not all of it was his fault.

Even though he accepted the blame for all that he did, even after all he’s done and after all the years that have passed, he didn’t think any of it was totally all his fault and his responsibility to accept all of the blame. Being that he had been drinking when he was doing these things, as far as he was concerned it still takes two. He wouldn’t have done some of the despicable things he did, if he didn’t have an accomplice.

Besides, not in his nature to accept total responsibility for his actions before, he wasn’t about to shoulder all of the blame now. Even though he was sorry and remorseful, he wasn’t about to shoulder all of the guilt for all of the bad things he’s done in his life. Why should he assume all of the blame when there were others who were just as guilty, just as bad, and just as responsible too? He took a big breath and blurted out what he had to say.

* * * * *

“Fiona,” he said standing tall, lifting his chin, and taking a big breath as if standing at yet another Alcohol Anonymous meeting. “I slept with your mother, Mary Rose. There, I said it. Now you know,” he said.

He looked at her for her reaction and when she didn’t react to his confession, he continued.

“Knowing you, with me having no secrets from you, you probably knew that already. Knowing you, you probably understood why I needed to sleep with your mother. Knowing you as well as I do, you’ve probably already forgiven me and moved on with your life,” he said.

Someone who always had something to say about everything and everyone, he couldn’t believe she had nothing to say now. Again he looked at her for her reaction and when she didn’t react to his confession, he goaded her to say something.

“Right? Am I right? At least tell me if I’m right,” he said waiting for her to tell him that he was right and continuing talking when she didn’t.

Never referring to her mother as his mother-in-law, calling her by name as if they weren’t related, he always referred to his mother-in-law by name, Mary Rose. Before continuing with his confession, he looked at his beloved wife as if waiting for her to speak. He looked at his beloved wife as if waiting for her to say something, anything at all to tell him the horrible man that he is, the terrible life he lived, and how he ruined her life and the lives of their three children. He looked at his beloved wife expecting her to be angry, really angry for sleeping with her mother. Hoping she had room in her heart to forgive him, he continued speaking when she didn’t say anything.

“It happened years ago, with your first pregnancy. In the way that your dear mother took it to her grave, I was hoping to take that to my grave too. I was hoping you’d never find out but part of the process of my recovery is for me to apologize to all those people that I hurt. For sure, if Mary Rose was alive today, I’d be apologizing to her too for taking sexual advantage of her but it takes two and she sexually wanted me as much as I sexually wanted her,” he said.

He fell silent while staring at his wife. Not talking to him today, when everyday she always had plenty to say, she must really be mad at him. How can he expect her to forgive him when he’s done so very many unforgivable things? How would she ever forgive him when she won’t even talk to him?

“With you always so very close to your mother, I suspect your mother told you that we had sex. Just as I suspect your mother came clean, I suspect you forgave your Mom by blaming all that happened between us on me,” he said. “Right? Am I right?”

He looked at her while waiting for her to tell him that not only did her mother confess but also that she forgave her mother. Only, she still wasn’t talking to him.

“Trust me, your Mom shouldered enough guilt about having sex with me for the both of us and more guilt and responsibility than I ever had,” he said looking up at her as if her mother was there with her looking at him.

Even if she blamed him for all of it, ready to accept the responsibility for having sex with his mother-in-law and for deeply, irrevocably hurting his wife, he paced back and forth with what he needed to say. He just needed for her to forgive him.

“Blame me and not your mother because Mary Rose was a good woman, albeit a horny woman,” he said under his breath. “I always wished you were as sexually promiscuous and adventurous as was your mother, one hot Mama, damn, that woman could fuck and suck. When referring to receiving a great blowjob, whoever said that a woman could suck chrome from a bumper was talking about Mary Rose,” he said. “Sorry, I’m digressing and stop me if I’m saying too much,” he said with a dirty laugh.

Then, suddenly he became sad. As if he was about to cry and was trying to stop himself from crying, he looked all around before focusing his stare on her and before continuing with all that he needed to say.

“Your mom was there with me while you were in labor. It took you 14 hours for you to birth Jimmy. When you finally had the baby, we went back to the house to get some sleep. It was after we both slept some and showered that it happened with one thing leading to another after having a couple of drinks to celebrate the birth of our first born and her first grandchild,” he said with an unapologetic shrug.

He paced back and forth again, this time with his head down, his shoulders tight, and his hands threatening to burst through his pockets.

“Even though I accept full responsibility for what happened, it wasn’t all my fault,” he said raising his voice while pointing his finger at her as if she was somehow to blame for him having sex with her mother. “I’m just human, you know,” he said with a shrug while giving her a look of pained anguish. “I’m a man and back then, ironic that I can no longer get it up now, I had needs,” he said. “And as my wife, you weren’t taking care of those needs, which is why I looked to your mother for emotional comfort and sexual satisfaction.”

He stopped talking to look off as if remembering his wife’s mother.

“With your mother’s long, lush, red hair, her beautiful, blue eyes, and her big breasts reminding me of Maureen O’Hara, my favorite movie star back then, I’ve always been sexually attracted to her. When she kissed me on the lips at our wedding, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and slip her my tongue. Even then, I turned her innocent kiss into something sexual instead of something beautiful.”

He remained quiet while looking at her and while waiting for her to respond. He continued talking when she remained silent. In the way that she remained silent, he figured she was mad at him. With her not communicating to him and with her being so unresponsive, unable to tell what she was thinking and/or even her mood, he had no way of knowing. She always got quiet when she was pissed. For sure, if she wasn’t mad at him she’d be yakking at him and telling him how angry she was and how disappointed she was in him for having sex with her mother.

“Like you and with you growing more beautiful as you grew older, with both of you definite MILFs, your mother never looked her age. Whenever she stayed overnight to help you during your last two weeks of your pregnancy and two more weeks after the baby was born, as if sexually teasing me, Mary Rose always paraded around me in her short, sheer nighties she wears with nothing underneath,” he said.

He stopped talking to stare off as if remembering Mary Rose walking around him in her short, sheer nightie with nothing underneath.

“With us not having sex and with me always drinking, I was so horny,” he said as if blaming his wife for him having sex with her mother. “With Mary Rose showing me everything she owned, it was obvious that she sexually wanted me as much as I sexually wanted her,” he said as if pointing the finger of blame on Mary Rose instead of on him.

Seemingly he felt that with him not all to blame, there was plenty of blame to go around. He fell silent as if remembering his sexy and pretty Mother-in-law parading around him in her skimpy, sheer nightgown.

“Hard for me to resist your mother with you being pregnant and not able to have sex, I was horny. With Mary Rose looking so very much like you, albeit an older version of you, I had needs. I had sexual needs. Stop me if you’d rather not hear all the dirty details of me having sex with your mother,” he said pausing before continuing.

He waited in silence for her to voice her disgust, her displeasure, her disappointment, and for her to tell him that she didn’t want to hear the dirty details. Yet, for some strange reason, she wasn’t talking today. When she didn’t say one way or the other whether she wanted to hear the sexual details or not, figuring that she not only needed to know but also wanted to know the sexy tidbits, he continued speaking.

“I remember I had just made coffee and she was standing at the kitchen sink in the way you always did. In the way that the light from the kitchen window lit her up as if she was an angel sent there to take care of me, she looked so beautiful. With me always coming up behind you to feel your ass and feel your tits to let you know that I was horny and wanted sex, I suddenly missed doing that,” he said. “Well, once I saw your mother standing there like that and in the same way that I used to do with you, I did the same thing with your mother. Not even trying to stop it, with my horniness overwhelming me by the sexy sight of the backside of your mother in her sheer nightie, it just happened.”

He looked past his wife as if he was remembering his mother-in-law again.

“From where I was sitting at the kitchen table while waiting for the coffee to brew, in the way that the kitchen light passed through her nightgown, I suspected that she was naked underneath it. Then, with her leaning a little bit forward to wash the dishes and with me bending lower to peer up her nightgown, um, I mean, to tie my shoe, her ass cheeks were exposed. Your mother wasn’t wearing any panties. In the way that you always wore panties to bed, I couldn’t believe your mother wasn’t wearing panties.”

As if he was getting sexually aroused by talking about Mary Rose, he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“It was then when I saw the evidence of her red pussy that I knew for sure that she was naked beneath her nightgown. With her parading around me so immodestly immoral and as if she was tempting me by teasing me, it wasn’t all my fault. With me always wanting her sexually before, it was then that I knew that I had to have her sexually now. Back then, it didn’t take much for me to be ready for sex. Back then, before excessive alcohol took its toll on the stiffness of my cock, I was just as horny as I was hard,” he said.

Expecting her to tell him to stop talking about her mother, when she didn’t, he continued.

“Oh my God, seeing her ass cheeks made me so horny. With me already so horny and with me already having an erection and with your mother flashing me her naked ass and part of her pussy, I couldn’t control myself,” he said.

As if he was horny again for Mary Rose now, he looked at his wife with his face flushed with sexual excitement.

“I was wearing my tee shirt and pajama bottoms with no underwear. I had a raging erection after she gave a couple of down nightgown views of her cleavage and up nightgowns peeks of her naked pussy and ass,” he said pausing as if remembering all that happened.

Waiting for Fiona to say something, he remained silent as if remembering Mary Rose.

“After lusting over your mother for years and with the two of us now alone, this was my chance. Thinking that I may never have another chance like this again, I needed to know if she wanted me as much as I wanted her and if she did, I had to have her.”

Afraid to tell her the rest, he fell silent for a few seconds that seemed much longer. Embarrassed now when he should have been embarrassed forty years ago, hoping she’d stop him, he really didn’t want to tell her all of the intimate, sexual details. With her in the hospital waiting to come home with their first child, he was in bed with her mother having sex. He felt like such a cad for taking advantage of his wife, her mother, and of the situation. Instead of turning the birth of his first child into a celebration and something so beautiful, he turned it into a sexual nightmare and something so ugly.

“Unable to help myself, I came up behind her and planted my hard cock against her ass crack through my pajamas and through her nightie. Rubbing myself against her, had Mary Rose pushed me away or moved away, I would have stopped right then but she didn’t,” he said as if him having sex with Mary Rose was her mother’s fault. “Then, when she wiggled her round, shapely, firm ass and pushed her backside against my cock, I knew she was enjoying the sexual attention. I knew she sexually wanted me as much as I sexually wanted her,” he said.

He looked at his wife waiting for her reaction to his confession. With his confession too late and now falling on deaf ears, no doubt, she heard all of this before from her mother. Still, instead of stopping, he persevered. He needed to tell her everything so that she’d forgive him.

“I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck before kissing her ear. When she swooned, I knew I had her,” he said. “I reached up my hands and cupped her big breasts through her nightgown while fingering her big nipples. Sticking my horny hand inside of her nightie, I felt and fondled her naked breasts while fingering her nipples,” he said.

As if ready to pay his wife a compliment, he looked at Fiona.

“Your Mom has big nipples like you. Her big breasts felt just like your big breasts, just not as firm. Still, I loved feeling and fondling your mother’s big tits while fingering her erect nipples. She was just as hot for me as I was for her,” he said.

Obviously aroused by his confession of having sex with his mother-in-law, as if thinking what to say next, he started pacing again before stopping in front of her.

“Stop me if you don’t want to hear anymore and I’ll shut the Hell up but this is something that I need to tell you. This is something that’s been nagging at me for forty years. This is something that I need your forgiveness,” he said.

He waited for her to say something, anything, and when she didn’t protest and didn’t even respond, he continued with his confession.

“I, um, lifted the back of her nightgown to her waist and felt her ass. Then, sliding one hand between her legs, I fingered her pussy while I continued fingering her nipples with my other hand. Just as I was already hard, she was already wet. Not about to force myself on your mother, had she stopped me, I would have stopped too,” he said looking to his wife while waiting for her to stop him.

When Fiona didn’t stop him from telling her all the disgusting details of having sex with her mother, he continued.

“I leaned her forward, pushed her over the sink, and eased my cock inside of her. Sliding inside of her deeper, I humped while fondling her big tits and fingering her erect nipples. As soon as she had an orgasm from me fucking her and playing with her nipples, with her no longer able to get pregnant, I shot my load inside of her. She was dripping with my cum and seemed so happy and sexually satisfied that we had sexual intercourse.”

Expecting his wife to say something, expecting her to voice her anger, and expecting her to ask him to leave, he was surprised that she had nothing to say. Her silence baffled him. Yet, with her not interrupting his sexual confession, her silence encouraged him to continue to tell her more details.

“As if breaking the ice, after that first time we had sex, we had sex every day, sometimes twice a day. Sometimes, three times a day, when she’d give me a blowjob before I left for work. Unlike you, instead of only allowing me to cum on her tits on in your pussy whenever you wanted a baby, she allowed me to cum in her mouth and she swallowed too,” he said with an accusatory tone.

He looked at her as if she’s the one who should feel guilty for not allowing him to cum in her mouth. He looked at her as if she’s the one who should apologize to him for driving him to have sex with her mother when she wasn’t having sex with him.

“Sometimes she’d be waiting for me at the door when I came home from work and would blow me before I could even remove my jacket,” he said. “Just as I was hot and horny for her, she was hot and horny for me.”

More than accusing her that having sex with her mother was as much her fault as it was his fault, he remained silent while thinking of what to say next. For sure, he confessed that having sex with her mother was better than having sex with her. Still baffled by her silence, he couldn’t believe she hasn’t interrupted and/or stopped him from telling her more about him having sex with her mother.

“With your mother there sucking me and fucking me whenever I wanted, I didn’t go to the bar once in the entire month your mother was there. Maybe if you had given me more sex, I wouldn’t feel the need to go to the bar and spend my time drinking with my drinking buddies. Maybe if you had been as much of a salacious whore as your mother was, I would have become more of a lover than a drunk,” he said pointing the finger of blame at her again.

He remained silent while waiting for her response but when none was given, he continued.

“While you were sleeping in bed or in the hospital with little Jimmy, who at 6’5″ is now big Jimmy, I was doing your mother and your mother was doing me,” he said. “I unloaded more cum in Mary Rose’s mouth in the four weeks that she stayed with us than I did on your tits in all of the years I was with you,” he said with anger.

He looked as if he was pondering something that he never pondered before.

“With me only 5’9″ and you only 5’4″ tall, where Jimmy got his height from, I have no idea. Now that I think about it, with me having brown hair and you having red hair, why our children are all blonde is another mystery to me. Maybe they’re throwbacks to our grandparents or great grandparents but I don’t remember anyone in my family being tall and blonde,” he said removing his baseball cap to scratch his head.

He looked at her baffled.

“Don’t get me wrong, Joan and Maureen are beautiful blonde women and at 5’10” tall, both my daughters are taller than me. It’s just that no one in my family had blonde hair and were as tall,” he said with a shrug. “Just as it’s always been a mystery to me why my children are all so tall, it’s always been a mystery to me why they’re all blonde.”

He stopped talking while wondering if his wife had been cheating on him and if his kids weren’t his children but someone else’s. Nah, Fiona was a one man woman. A virgin when he married her, she was a good Catholic, parochial school girl. She’d never cheat on him in the way that he cheated on her. As if thinking what he was going to say next, he fell silent again.

“I’m sorry. Truly I am. Was it worth having sex with your mother? Was it worth me cheating on you with your own, dear, sweet mother, God rest her soul,” he said removing his hat before replacing it on his head.

He paused as if thinking whether it was worth having sex with his mother-in-law.

“It was definitely worth it at the time to have sex with your mother, Mary Rose. With her so hungry for my cock, she was such a hot lover. I never had any regrets about having sex with your mother until now,” said John. “With her begging for it night and day, in her day, she was a wild, sexy woman. After your father died, with her almost too much woman for me, I don’t know why a woman like that didn’t have a man in her life.”

Something that he’d no doubt never understand or forgive if the shoe was on the other foot and if she had sex with his father, he looked at her as if trying to make her understand why he had sex with her mother. Only, how could he possibly make her understand why he had sex with her mother when he didn’t understand why he had to have sex with her mother? Other than the physical, sexual attraction that he had to his mother-in-law, he didn’t know why he was so intent on having sex with her.

He looked at his wife while wishing she was as sexual as her mother. As it turns out, her mother was one of the best sexual partners he’s ever had. If he had known what a wonderful lover Mary Rose was before he married Fiona, he would have married mother instead of daughter. Only, back then, with Fiona’s father still alive, Mary Rose was seemingly happily married and no doubt sexually satisfied.

“Back then, your mother was hot. One lusty MILF of a woman, she was sexy,” he said. “With both of you having big breasts and with you looking more like a thinner and younger version of Maureen O’Hara, you were both very beautiful women. She was as beautiful as she was horny. Back then, your mother sexually wanted me as much as I sexually wanted her. She was just as horny, just as sexual, and just as sexually attracted to me as I was to her,” he said pausing to ponder the continued silence of his wife.

He looked off and fell quiet while remembering Mary Rose.

“Back then with her forty-something and me twenty-something, I never thought I’d be attracted to an older woman, but I was. Maybe I was sexually attracted to your Mom because with your red hair and blue eyes, you looked so much like her. Having sex with Mary Rose was like having sex with an older version of you but without all of the bullshit of you not in the mood, having your period, or having a headache. Ready and willing all the time and every time, Mary Rose wanted me to give her hot sex morning, day, and night.”

* * * * *

John stopped talking to see what reaction his sexual confession of him having sex with her mother had on his wife. When Fiona didn’t say anything, not one word, he figured that either she was mad or she already knew about their affair. Only, unlike her not to remain silent for so long, especially with all of the sexual revelations he confessed about her mother, he’s never known her to be quiet for this long.

The only reason why he was bearing his soul and telling her his sins, part of his Alcoholic Anonymous Twelve Step Program, he hoped to God that she had room in her heart to forgive him. Maybe it was because of his AA program that she allowed him to have his say without interrupting him. Only and unfortunately, this wasn’t the only confession that he had to make to her. He had another sexual confession to tell her too.

“I, um, had sex with your sister too,” he said. “Just as it happened with your Mom, it happened with your sister, Kathleen. With us spending so much time together at the hospital waiting for you to deliver our second baby, Joan, by the time we got home, we were both exhausted. With her too tired to drive home, she spent the night. Actually, after having a couple of drinks to celebrate baby Joan, we fell asleep on the bed fully dressed.”

As if he was nervous telling his wife that not only did he have sex with her mother but also that he had sex with her sister, he started pacing again.

“Then, early the next morning, with Kathleen looking like a younger version of you and looking ever sexier than your mother, for a minute, I was confused. For a minute, I forgot you were at the hospital. Not much of an excuse but I really thought I was in bed with you. My brain may have been confused but my cock wasn’t,” he said with a nervous, little laugh while hoping to break the tension.

Waiting for her to say something, anything about him having sex with first her mother and now her sister, he stopped talking to pace back and forth again before stopping in front of her to stare at her. Giving her ample time to say something and/or to voice her protest that she didn’t want to hear any more, when she didn’t interrupt him, he continued confessing the sexual affair that he had with her sister, Kathleen.

“As if I was dreaming or having a sexual fantasy, when I realized I was in bed next to my sleeping, sexy sister-in-law, and with me always waking up horny, I started touching her and feeling her through her clothes in her sleep. Wanting to see how far I could go and how far she’d allow me to get with her, I removed my erection from my pajama bottoms. I lifted up the back of her short skirt and started rubbing my cock against her panty clad ass,” he said looking off in the distance as if he was remembering it.

Waiting for her to comment, he looked at his wife. She had nothing to say. For her not to voice her anger that he had sex with her mother and her sister, she really must be pissed. Then, when Fiona continued to remain silent, he continued.

“When she still didn’t awaken to stop me from touching her and feeling her, and with her still sleeping, I continued touching her and feeling her. I felt her ass through her short skirt, her pussy through her exposed panties, and her big breasts through her blouse while fingering her nipples through her bra,” he said.

Waiting for her to go berserk on him, he stopped talking to look at his wife and to allow her to tell him how she felt about him having sex not only with her mother but also with her sister too. Only, just as she didn’t say anything about him having sex with her mother before, she didn’t say anything about him having sex with her sister now. Seemingly, she didn’t care that he had sex with her mother and with her sister. Seemingly, she didn’t care what he did. Maybe if he gave her more of the dirty details of having sex with her sister, she’d finally react to his confession.

“As if I was already fucking her, I stuck my cock between her legs and rubbed it against her panty clad pussy. Unless she was pretending that she was sleeping, which I always suspected she was, I couldn’t believe she allowed me to continue touching her and feeling her through her clothes in that sexual way,” he said looking as if he was thinking of his sexy sister-in-law in the way that he was just thinking about his MILF of a mother-in-law.

Giving Fiona a chance to voice her outrage, when she didn’t, needing to finish telling her everything for her hoped for forgiveness, he continued telling her about his sexual affair with her sister.

“Then, when I pushed her panty aside to feel her pussy with my finger, just as I was already hard, she was already wet. After penetrating your sister with my finger, I penetrated your sister with the head of my cock. Slowly I humped her while trying to fuck her deeper.”

He paused to listen to hear if his wife had anything to say about him having sex with her sister and/or her mother. Just as she didn’t comment when he told her that he had sex with her mother, she didn’t comment after he told her that he had sex with her sister. Definitely she was pissed, the reason why she was so quiet, the reason why she wasn’t interrupting him, and the reason why she wasn’t talking.

By now, with her yelling and screaming at him, his head would normally be filled with her angry voice. Yet, glad that she wasn’t voicing all the things that she’d normally say and that he expected her to say, he hoped she’d allow him to finish before telling him what she thought of him and before hopefully forgiving him. Waiting for her to scream at him and ask her to leave, he only hoped that he could get out all that he had to say before she went crazy on him. He continued his confession.

“With Kathleen younger than you, in the way that I always wanted to have sex with your mother, I always want to touch her, feel her, and have sex with her your sexy sister too. Sometimes when the three of us were together, I used to stare at Kathleen’s lips while wondering what it would be like to kiss her, really kiss her, French kiss her. Sometimes, I’d imagine making out with her while feeling her through her clothes. Sometimes I’d wonder what it would feel like for her to suck my cock. Sometimes I’d wonder if she’d allow me to cum in her mouth in the way that you never did. Sometimes I’d wonder if ever she blew me, if she’d swallow my cum,” he said.

Still, as if she lost her ability to speak, Fiona remained silent. Her persevered in confessing his sexual transgressions while pacing.

“For the longest time, for years, just as I wondered what it would be like to have sex with your mother, I wondered what it would be like to have sex with your sister,” he said staring at her as if daring her to say something. “A younger version of you, your sister was so pretty and so sexy. Now no longer a dream and/or a sexual fantasy, no longer having to wonder what it would be like to make out with your mother and/or your sister, I had sex with both my MILF of a mother-in-law and my sexy sister-in-law,” he said as if bragging.

He stopped pacing and stopped talking to look at his wife. Ready to be hit with a barrage of anger, he wished she’d say something. Her silence was worse than her screaming at him. He wasn’t used to her not interrupting him. Even though she was obviously angry with him, he took her silence as her wanting to know more.

Maybe she’s suppressing her anger until he’s done talking and telling her everything he did. Maybe wanting him to complete his twelve step AA program, she’s allowing him to talk and to confess all of his transgressions for the sake of that. No doubt, once he’s finished telling her everything is when she’ll have a lot to say.

“After she awakened, even then, when she didn’t stop me from touching her ass through her short skirt, from lifting her skirt, from fingering her pussy through her panty, and from feeling her tits through her blouse, and fingering her nipples through her bra, I kissed her. I French kissed her and she returned my kiss with her kiss. I French kissed your sister, Fiona. What do you think of that? Not only did I have my tongue and cock in Kathleen’s mouth but also I had my fingers, my tongue, and my cock in her pussy too,” he said taunting her to say something.

He stopped talking to give his wife a chance to respond and when she still remained silent, even though he was stunned by her silence, he continued with his confession.

“Then, with her returning my kisses and us making out like horny teenagers, we stripped off our clothes and made love,” said John. “I had sex with Kathleen. After having sex with your mother, I had sex with your younger sister. I practically had sex with your entire family,” he said with a deranged, little laugh. “We had sex day and night for a week. I fucked your sister and, in the way that your mother did, she sucked my cock like the whores they both were,” he said with anger and as if having sex with her mother and sister was Mary Rose’s and Kathleen’s fault and not his fault.

Yet, if he was to blame another for his sexual transgressions, he was ready to put the full burden of blame on Fiona. Again he fell silent to give his wife a chance to speak. A first for her, apparently, she wasn’t talking today.

“In the way that your mother and sister where horny sluts for my cock, I always wished you were a horny slut for my cock too. Unfortunately, unless you needed me to give you a baby, you never were hot for my cock. It always amazed me how just having sex with you the one time got you pregnant. Normally couples must have sex more than once to get pregnant. Either you’re very fertile or I have supercharged cum because after only having sex that one time, you were pregnant with child,” he said looking to her as if wanting an explanation.

When no explanation was given from her how she could be so fertile, he continued speaking.

“You never enjoyed having sex with me in the way that your mother and sister loved having sex with me,” he said. “I can’t even count how many times I fucked your mother and sister and how many times they blew me. They both loved sucking and fucking my big cock. They both allowed me to cum in their mouths instead of only on their tits. They both swallowed my cum in the way you never would,” he said.

He paused again to wait for his wife’s reaction to her mother and sister sucking his cock and allowing him to cum in their mouths. Again, when she remained mute, he continued with his true confession.

“Instead of giving me their distain and their contempt in the way you always did when I’d come home after drinking, seemingly, they both acted as if they loved me,” he said with sadness. “I should have married your mother or your sister instead of marrying you,” he said as if he never pondered that thought before.

He fell silent again while waiting for Fiona to say something, anything, about him not only having sex with her mother but also with her sister. He waited for her to say something about him telling her that he should have married her mother or her sister instead of marrying her. When she didn’t say anything, he continued speaking. Only, this next secret was a real bombshell.

“With him looking just like me, I, um, suspect that Kathleen’s son, our nephew, Michael, may be my son. Sorry,” he said.

Not saying anything, he just stood there and stared at his wife. In the way she always did to put him in his place, he expected a ration of shit from Fiona for having sex with her mother and her sister, and for impregnating her sister, but she still remained silent. Obviously done with his lying, drunken, cheating ass, maybe his wife didn’t care what he did in the past just as she no longer cared what he did in the present and/or in the future.

Shocked by her lack of reaction to all that he confessed, maybe his wife knew everything he’s done to hurt her already. Maybe she’s already forgiven him. Maybe she’s gone beyond all of his sexual transgressions and is in a different place somewhere without him. Maybe she just doesn’t love him anymore. With his hands still pocketed, he continued pacing back and forth while looking down at his feet and while waiting for her to respond. Not done, unbelievably, he still had one more confession to make.

* * * * *

Seemingly, with no woman safe from his wily ways, John saved his best and most recent, sexual confession for his last.

“Well, having gone this far, I may as well tell you the rest. I may as well tell you everything,” he said pausing to look at her before continuing. “I, um, had sex with our neighbor, your best friend, Robin, when you were still in the hospital after delivering our third child, Maureen. With your mother and sister watching the kids at your mother’s house, I was alone with Robin. I’ve always been sexually attracted to her,” he said without apology.

In the way that he paused his confession to give her a chance to respond to him having sex with her mother and her sister, he gave her a chance to say something now about him having sex with her best friend. When she still remained silent, he continued speaking again.

“After visiting you in the hospital and coming home from the hospital with Robin, we had a couple of drinks. Then, with one thing leading to another, the next thing I knew she was blowing me while I was fondling her big breasts and fingering her erect nipples. Something you never did in all the years we’ve been together, even she allowed me to cum in her mouth and she swallowed my cum,” he said.

Always hating how she’d drone on and on while lambasting him before, he wished she’d say something now that he did something really terrible instead of just coming home drunk. He filled her silence with his continued confession.

“We had sex every day until you came home with Maureen. I fucked Robin in the way that I fucked Mary Rose and Kathleen. Those three woman sucked my cock in the way that you, my wife, should have sucked my cock but never did,” he said with anger.

While waiting to hear any reaction about him having sex with her mother, he sister, and now her best friend, he fell silent again while thinking of what else to say and while waiting for her to respond. When she didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Things started long ago with Robin. With our bathroom windows facing one another, whenever you weren’t home, always when you weren’t home, and when she knew I was home alone, she’d be in her bathroom naked with the light on and the blinds open. Oh, my God, that was so hot to see her naked for the first time. After that, with her constantly flashing me, teasing me, and tempting me, I can’t count how many times I saw Robin in her bra and panty, topless, and/or naked,” he said.

Pausing again, he waited to hear Fiona’s reaction to him ogling and peeping on Robin and on Robin exposing herself to him. Still nothing from the silent one so he continued.

“Then, whenever you weren’t home, always when you weren’t home, and when I knew she was home alone, I started flashing her my cock. A sexy game we enjoyed playing, I’d shave naked in the bathroom with the light on and with the blinds open while knowing that she could see me naked in the way that I always saw her naked,” he said looking at her for her reaction to the sexy games he played with her best friend.

Waiting for a sign from her to tell him if she was angry, maybe she already knew that he had sex with her mother, with her sister, and now with her best friend too. Maybe she no longer cared what he did in the past and was done with him. When she didn’t respond to his sexual confession, he continued again.

“With one thing leading to another and with our bedroom windows facing one another, whenever you weren’t home, always when you weren’t home, and when she knew I was home alone, she’d undress and dress with her light on and with her blinds open. Oh, my God, that was so sexy. She continued flashing me for months before we did anything. After having sex with your mother and with your sister and now after seeing your best friend naked, if I wasn’t masturbating over your mother and/or sister, I was masturbating over Robin while imagining having sex with all three of them,” he said.

He looked at her stunned that she had nothing to say.

“Long before I had sex with the three of them and even after having sex with the three of them, I was always masturbating while fantasizing having sex with them again and again. With us seldom having sex and every time we did, you became pregnant, I was always so very horny. With you always so busy with the kids and so tired at night, too tired to have sex, you always had an excuse why we couldn’t have sex,” he said. “Seemingly the only time you wanted me to give you sex was when you wanted another baby.”

Seemingly he was looking to blame his infidelity on anyone and anything, including her mother, her sister, her best friend, and now the Catholic Church.

“With us Catholic and you unwilling to use birth control, you’re birth control was abstention and my birth control was having sex with other, willing women. The least you could have done is blow me. The least you could have done is to allow me to cum in your mouth, even if you didn’t swallow but spit it in a tissue but you wouldn’t even do that for me,” he said with sadness mixed with anger. “Our sex life was all about you and limited to you getting pregnant.”

Seemingly he blamed his cheating ways on his wife because she was too tired from caring for three kids after cleaning the house and cooking. Yet, even he couldn’t find justification enough for him to excuse his bad ways by blaming his sexual escapades on birth control.

“With us flashing one another for a couple of years, we never had sex or spoke about seeing one another naked. Then, one day, when you weren’t home, always when you weren’t home, and when Robin was in her bedroom naked with the blinds open and the light on, I opened my bedroom blind and turned on the light. I stripped myself naked and started masturbating myself over the sexy, naked sight of her,” he said looking at Fiona.

Was she mad at him for having sex with her mother, her sister, and her best friend? He didn’t know. As if she’s his second conscience with her always talking to him and talking at him, she certainly wasn’t talking now.

No longer able to hear her chastising voice in his head, it was as if her sweet voice had died. He didn’t like not hearing her sweet voice talking to him in the way he always did. Not knowing what he’d do without her, for nearly fifty years, she’s been telling him what to do, how to do it, what not to do, and how not to do that too.

Now, no doubt really angry with him, instead of yelling at him, she’s giving him the silent treatment. For sure, he’d rather hear what she has to say about all that he’s done rather than for her not to say anything. For sure, he’d rather hear how angry she is at him than for her to remain in silence. Her not talking was much worse than her screaming at him.

“A perversely perverted thing to do, I know, but I wanted her to see my erection. I wanted her to watch me cum. The next day, when you weren’t home, always when you weren’t home, and when she knew I was home alone, she did the same thing too,” he said.

He paused to see if Fiona had any reaction to exposing his erection to her best friend while masturbating himself but just as she had no reaction to all that he said before, she had no reaction to all that he said now. Now, just wanting to get through his confession so that she’d hopefully forgive him for his sexual transgressions, he continued.

“This time, after she flashed me her naked body, she masturbated herself too with her blinds up and her bedroom light on while staring over at me masturbating myself. Then, after that, whenever you’d go out with your mother and/or sister or go over their houses, we’d masturbate ourselves together, a couple of times a week while we watched one another masturbate. With the timing right and the opportunity presenting itself, we didn’t have sex until you were in the hospital having our third child,” he said.

Pacing back and forth in front of her, he stopped to stare at her while waiting for her reaction to all that he confessed. With her not saying anything, thinking that perhaps she had forgiven him already, he was ready to ask for her forgiveness.

“I’m sorry Fiona. Really, I am. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”

* * * * *

John watched a pickup truck pull up in the distance. A tall man with blonde hair emerged from the truck. He recognized the man getting out of the truck as Jim, his best friend from years ago. He hasn’t seen him in years, not since he abandoned Fiona and his kids for the bottle.

Fancy that, such an odd coincidence, Jim was carrying yellow roses too. Only, instead of just carrying one, yellow rose, he had a whole dozen, an entire bouquet. John wondered where Jim found yellow roses. Maybe he was seeing someone at the cemetery too. Only, as Jim neared and continued walking closer, John was more than a little uncomfortable that Jim was there when he wanted to be alone with his wife. With Fiona not talking, she still hadn’t forgiven him yet.

“Hi John,” said Jim offering him his hand. “It’s been a long time.”

John looked at Jim while watching him place his flowers by Fiona’s tombstone.

“What are you doing here?”

Jim looked from the flowers that he leaned by Fiona’s headstone to look down at John. He smiled uncomfortably at him before standing tall, as tall as his son Jimmy stood.

“Being that you were never around for her, I should ask you the same question,” said Jim. “Being that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day of love, I thought I’d pay my respects to Fiona.”

As if ready to do battle, with both of them falling silent, the two men looked at one another without saying anything until John broke their silence.

“That’s nice of you but, I don’t understand,” said John. “What does love have to do with you visiting my deceased wife on Valentine’s Day?”

Jim looked at him in the same way that John looked at Fiona before blurting out his confession.

“There’s been something I’ve been wanting to tell you but after you disappeared for years, I never had the chance,” said Jim.

John shot him a look of anger but Jim stood his ground and looked at him defiantly.

“What’s that?”

Unlike in the way that John suspected Fiona already knew all that he told his wife, he had no idea what Jim wanted to tell him.

“With you always working, seldom home, and drunk when you were home, I’ve been there for Fiona when you weren’t. After my Mary Kate died in that horrible car accident, Fiona was always there for me. For the past forty-five-years, I’ve always been in love with your wife and she’s been in love with me,” said Jim.

Jim looked at John looking to see his reaction to the information that his beloved wife had been sexually intimate with their neighbor.

“Is that so?”

John gave him an icy stare. No doubt, if he had a gun, he’d shoot his old friend dead. No doubt, had Fiona not already been dead, he’d shoot her dead too.

“With you never sober long enough to have an erection unless you were having sex with your mother-in-law, your sister-in-law, or your wife’s best friend, your three children are all mine,” he said.

John looked at Jim startled that he knew his secret of bedding his mother-in-law, his sister-in-law, and his wife’s best friend.

“Are you saying that Fiona knew that I had sex with her mother, her sister, and her best friend?”

Jim nodded at his old friend.

“Women can’t keep a secret,” said Jim with a shrug. “After a while, they all told her what you didn’t tell her and what you should have told her years ago. Your wife was a good woman,” said Jim. “Had she not been raised Catholic and believed divorce was a mortal sin, she would have divorced your drunken ass and married me.”

Wishing he had a drink right now but glad that he didn’t, John felt the anger welling up in him.

“I guess she didn’t feel the same way about infidelity,” said John. “Otherwise she would have kept her legs closed when around you. From what I see, you and my holier than thou wife broke two of the Ten Commandments, Commandment #6, Thou shall not commit adultery, Commandment #9, Thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife,” said John.

Jim gave his old friend a sardonic little grin.

“Kettle black,” said Jim. “Only that goes triple for you. I guess we’ll see one another in Hell but not Fiona. She’s destined to go straight to Heaven,” she Jim looking up to the sky as if he could see her suspended there in a cloud before he returned his focus to Fiona’s tombstone.

As if waiting for John to take a punch at him, the two men remained silent while staring at Fiona’s tombstone.

“You’re right about that. Fiona was a good woman, the best. Definitely, she’s in Heaven. And you’re right that I should have told Fiona about my cheating ways. I should have come clean with Fiona long ago,” said John.

John studied his old friend while thinking about taking him in his trust in the way he always did so very long ago.

“Only, a big part of me cheating is that Fiona seldom gave me sex. I’m embarrassed to confess that she never gave me oral sex to completion and on the rare occasion that she did, she never allowed me to cum in her mouth, not once, not ever. She only allowed me to cum on her tits,” said John.

Not knowing why he was now telling his old friend all of that, he felt that he had to share his hurt and rejection with someone. Being that Jim was intimate with his wife and knew all that went on behind his closed bedroom doors, why not share his sexual secrets with him? Moreover, with Fiona dead, what did it matter now?

“Really? Seriously? Are you kidding me?” Jim seemed happy instead of surprised. “Fiona never allowed you to cum in her mouth?”

Jim looked at John with disbelief.

“Not once. Never,” said John. “I guess she was too saintly for oral sex.”

Instead of giving him his compassion, Jim gave John a big smile.

“Wow,” said Jim. “How about that?”

John gave his old friend a questioning look.

“You seem happy to know that Fiona didn’t blow me,” said John now suspecting that she blew Jim.

Jim looked at his friend with a slick smile.

“That’s odd because Fiona was always blowing me. She couldn’t get enough of sucking my big cock. I can’t even count how many times she not only allowed me to cum in her mouth but how many times she swallowed. While you were drinking barrels of beer, I must have unloaded a barrel full of cum in your wife’s mouth over the years,” said Jim.

Suddenly rage erased the guilty conscience that John should have felt but never did have when he was having sex with Fiona’s mother, her sister, and her best friend. Now instead of feeling guilt, he felt anger that Fiona sucked Jim’s cock and allowed him to cum in her mouth when she never allowed him to cum in her mouth.

“I wasn’t positive at the time but with your children looking so very much like me, suspecting that they were all mine, I had the DNA testing done years ago,” said Jim. “My DNA was a positive match and I raised them as my own after you abandoned them and disappeared for years in a drunken stupor in some flophouse somewhere. I have no idea how you still managed to keep your job and go to work every day,” said Jim. “At least you did the right thing by giving them money and continuing to support them. I’ll give you credit for that.”

John looked up at Jim. A big man, as tall as his 6’5″ son, Jim,” it was then that John saw the resemblance of his children in Jim. Leaving naming the children to his wife, it was then that he realized that Fiona had named her son after Jim instead of after him. Why not, with Jim the father, why should she have named her son after him?

Something else he should have noticed years before, he didn’t see until now. He was too drunk to see anything but to look for his next drink. No doubt, a good part of the reason for him drinking is he knew, deep down, that Fiona didn’t love him and never loved him in the way that she obviously loved Jim.

“There’s not much else to say other than thank you for stepping in for me,” said John. “But the bottom line is whatever extramarital thing you had with my wife or think you had with Fiona, she didn’t love you,” boasted John to his friend if only to save face. “She never loved you. Until the day she died, she always loved me,” he said.

Jim gave his old friend a sad look.

“Yeah, okay John. If you say that enough times to yourself, even you’ll believe it,” said Jim with a laugh.

How drunk could he have been not to notice Fiona carrying on with his best friend for years? Now instead of wanting his wife’s forgiveness, John became enraged. He was hurt that Fiona wanted his best friend instead of him. He felt rejected that Fiona refused to give him the sex that he needed to stop drinking.

“Even though she can no longer speak for herself, other than in my head, she gives me subtle signs,” said John pointing his finger at Jim. “I know she loved me. I know she still loves me. I know, even in death, she’ll always love me and she’ll never love you and will never love you in the way she’ll always love me,” said John walking away from his ex-friend.

With it raining for the past two days, it had been cloudy and threatening to rain all day again today when, suddenly, the sun parted the overcast sky and there was a big, bright beautiful rainbow behind Jim. A sunbeam shone down upon Jim’s blonde head. When John stopped to look at Jim, his old friend looked as if he was wearing a halo. The rainbow position behind him illuminated his back to make him appear as if he had wings. As if he was an Angel personally chosen by God or by Fiona, being that he was still standing by her tombstone, Jim looked so blessed. He looked do holy. He looked so religious.

In watching his best friend standing there before his wife’s tombstone, he suddenly felt so sad. Including the love of Fiona and the births of his children as their father, he had given up an awful lot for booze. Watching him from a distance, John stood there to watch Jim talking to Fiona. With Jim smiling and nodding his head as if Fiona was talking to him in the way she used to always talk to him, in the way that Fiona didn’t answer him, he wondered if she had saved all of her words for Jim. With Jim talking and talking to her, he appeared to be having the conversation with his wife that he wanted to have but didn’t have. Envious of his connection with Fiona, it was then that he was sad with everything that had transpired over the past fifty years.

As John walked back to his car, he felt bad that his beloved Fiona had abandoned him in the way that he had cheated on and abandoned her. He felt sad that she was intimate with another man, his best friend, Jim, of all men, when he thought that he was the one and only man in her life. He felt bad that the children he thought were his, were Jim’s children. For the first time since he’s known Fiona, always sensing it before, he now knew that she didn’t love him. It was obvious that she loved Jim instead. Only, with her being Catholic and not believing in divorce, his dear, departed wife stayed with his drunken ass when she should have divorced him.

Perhaps had she divorced him, he would have taken up with her mother, her sister, or her best friend. Perhaps had he taken up with any of those three women, he wouldn’t feel the need to drink and to get drunk. Perhaps, he would have been a better man without Fiona in his life. Still blaming everything on her, John still didn’t accept the responsibility for his drinking and for his deplorable, sexual behavior.

Before getting in his car, now feeling so sad, so deceived, and so very rejected, he turned again to look at Jim. Resplendent with a halo and wings, Jim looked as if he was basking in a ray of sunshine that lit him up as if he was a religious apparition. Indeed, he looked as if he was a holy ghost. In the way he does whenever talking to Fiona, John looked up to the sky to see if his wife was there looking down at him just as a bird, a pigeon, shit on his head.

THE END

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