When we got back, she moved to California with me. My job was about 30 miles from our apartment in one direction, hers was about 30 miles in the other direction. We saw each other in the evenings. I knew that our first couple of years would be like that while we got our feet underneath us.
But everything seemed to be going very well. We loved each other - at least I thought so. Maybe I was blind.
Our sex life was very good. At least I thought so. Of course I was inexperienced (relatively), having only been with "J". She told me that I was her first, and (at the time) I had no reason to doubt her. In later years, I came to believe that "J" was a whole lot more experienced than I was. At the time, it just seemed like she was much more sexually aggressive than I was. It seemed like she took the lead all the time with everything we did. Not that I minded... Not that I minded at all!
After several months, she started spending more time away from our apartment. Given the nature of her job, that wasn't completely unexpected. But it also seemed that she was distant even when she WAS home. Of course you know where this ends up, right?
I found it... She wrote him a letter in which she told him how good he made her feel. She told him how unsatisfying I was. She told him how she thought of him when she was in bed with me. All the things you would expect to see in a letter from a woman to the man she's cuckolding her husband with. Remember, this was decades before the Internet and eMail. Decades before Tumblr, Wordpress, or Blogspot. I hadn't even heard of the word "cuckolding" at that point in my life. All I knew was that she was having sex with another man. All I knew was that my beautiful, loving wife was willingly giving her body to another... And her she was, telling him how much better he was in bed and how much she wanted him to make love with her... Seeing the words written down... Thinking of her SAYING those things to him... I could almost hear her saying them to ME. Telling ME how much better HE was in bed...
What I remember most was the shot of adrenaline that flowed through my body at the time. I remember that for several days after I learned she was fucking a man and I confronted her that I couldn't sit still. I was jumpy. I was in incredible emotional turmoil. I strongly suspect... I'm almost certain... That on more than one occasion I got sloppy seconds... That I cleaned "J"'s pussy after she fucked her lover. Remember, I KNEW that I was smaller than other males. Remember, I was a very emotionally insecure person... Knowing that my wife was fucking a man reinforced all my inadequacies from growing up...
We separated almost immediately. I saw her a couple more times after that, and went over to her new apartment after she moved out. It was pretty obvious that she was getting along just fine without me. I didn't recognize it at the time when I saw her new apartment (a lot close to her work), but reflecting back on it now, it was obvious that her man was there regularly.
Emotionally, I was devastated for months. The legal paperwork came through and I signed it. The legal separation was as amicable as it could be I guess... I was going through life in a daze. I moved from our shared apartment back to the apartment I was in before, with the same roommate I had before "J" and I got married and tried to piece my life back together again.
It was slow.
As I think back on the whole thing now, decades later, my wife "J" cuckolded me with a man because I was incapable of fully satisfying her as a man. I guess that just reinforced my perception of myself...
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