My husband didn't know that I knew. I suspected he had a girlfriend which wouldn't have been so surprising after 15 years of marriage. I told my sister who suggested a private detective. At first I didn't want to but the girlfriend idea nagged at me. My sister, who'd never liked Adam, found one. He wasn't long in reporting back which he did in person in my kitchen while Adam was at work. There was no girlfriend. Adam was meeting a man. I didn't twig. A man? I said. They're what are called wank buddies, the detective explained. He had photographs to prove it but I didn't want to see them. I felt sick. Adam masturbating with another man, the two of them rolling around naked together. The detective on the other hand didn't look as if he found his discovery unusual. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe he had a wank buddy himself. He told me the man's name and gave me his address and left the photos in an envelope. Of course I opened it when he left. The photos showed Adam and his friend naked and masturbating each other and sucking each other's cocks. I said nothing to Adam and did nothing for more than a month during which time we had sex together as usual which is two or three times a week. Whatever he was doing outside didn't affect Adam's performance with me. I knew they met on Thursday evenings when Adam “worked late”. I finally went to the address one Thursday to have it out. I was early and saw Adam arrive and enter a ground floor apartment. Twenty minutes later I rang the bell. The man in the photos opened the door wearing a robe – I could see he was nude underneath - and looked at me quizzically. I pushed past him without a word. Maybe he guessed who I must be because he didn't protest. Adam was lying naked with cum on his belly on a rug in the living room happily fondling a big erection which he dropped when he saw me. What happened next wasn't what I'd envisaged although I'm not sure what it was that I had envisaged. He sat up, put his hands over his face and began to cry. The man had followed me into the room. We both stood there watching Adam cry like a big nude baby, the tears trickling through his fingers. I'm completely unused to men's tears. Adam had never cried in front of me before and nor had any of the men in my family. I had the most unexpected reaction. I found his crying and his humiliation intensely erotic. I loved his total, childlike vulnerability. I'd thought I would be angry. Instead, I wanted to mother him, to gather him in my arms, cradle his head between my breasts and stroke his hair which is what in fact I did. Eventually he calmed down and he and Brett – the man – got into their clothes. Brett poured us whiskies and we sat down to talk. I found myself apologising for my intrusion while Adam apologised if he'd hurt me which he swore he'd never meant to do. Brett, who'd remained calm throughout, assured me they weren't “gay lovers”; it was just guy stuff for animal pleasure, as he put it. I wasn't completely naïve. I knew Adam masturbated privately and I knew that men sometimes wanked together for fun. I just hadn't expected it to happen to me. I realised I could put up with it or not – my choice. I chose to put up with it. When my sister asked me what the private detective found out, I invented something anodyne that fobbed her off. I'm not jealous of Brett who's still on the Thursday scene but officially so now and I've found that Adam, with nothing to hide, is even better in bed with me.