TITLE    : I Found Her
STORYID  : i-found-her-1
SUMMARY  : Now what do I do?
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2019-11-28
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |loving wife|


This is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance to any actual circumstance in anyone's life is also coincidental. 



Also, be advised that some of the information contained herein has been garnered from the internet and we all know how accurate that is; so with that in mind, feel free to find as much fault as you like and comment to your hearts content.



"The problem with quotes on the internet is that it is hard to verify their authenticity." Abraham Lincoln. You can look it up!



BTW, there is probably not enough sex for some of you and it is not a BTB story. Armed with that information proceed at your own peril.



*****



I was on my way back to my office from a visit to Post Headquarters. There they told me I was being transferred to Germany. I knew I was due for reassignment, but it was a bad time.



Madge was my wife. Just the previous week, her mother had been diagnosed with cancer. Knowing that, I had tried to delay my transfer, but was informed that it was not possible. 



Madge's parents lived on a ranch in Montana. They are originally from Louisiana, but the discovery of natural gas on their property changed their lives.



I went home to break the news to Madge. Six years of marriage and she had moved with me to Germany one other time. She had also moved with me to our current duty station in Pennsylvania, in addition to the year she spent alone while I was in Korea. It is impossible to describe what military spouses have to contend with so it is a miracle that any military marriage survives.



I went in the house. "You're home early." She said after my welcoming kiss.



"Yes." I paused. "Any word on your mother?"



"I just talked to Dad. She is depressed and frightened. They're flying to Houston next week to start treatment and I'm flying down to be with them."



"How long will you be gone?"



"At least seven weeks."



I looked at her then held up my orders. "We have to be in Germany in four."



She just stared at me and ignored the orders. "I'm not leaving my parents to go through this by themselves."



"I understand, but ..."



"Jerry, I'm not leaving my parents."



I took a deep breath. Both of my parents were gone; the result of an automobile accident so I understood her position and, grudgingly, agreed with it. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll go to Germany alone. When your mother's treatments are completed, you can come back here and arrange to ship our household goods and your car. Then you'll come over. I'll ship my car this week so it will be there when I get there. Will that work for you?"



"Of course, sweetie." We hugged.



"I'll miss you not being with me." I said.



"I know. I'll miss you too."



The day she left for Houston, I took her to the airport and kissed her goodbye not realizing that I would not see her again for almost four years.



I went to Germany and lived in the housing reserved for bachelor officers. Madge and I talked on the phone and did the 'facetime' thing. I tried to get a firm date when she would be joining me, but she would never commit; and she had yet to return to our home in Pennsylvania to ship her car and our household goods.



One month became two and still no Madge. The phone calls and facetime stopped. Whenever I called, it went right to voicemail. I tried calling her parents, but the same thing happened.



I called our neighbors in Pennsylvania. They had not seen Madge. They had, however, been picking up our mail and mowing our grass. I gave them my address and told them to send the mail to me. 



When I received the mail, I discovered that two credit cards were past due, as was the water, electricity, and insurance bills. Both of our cars were paid for as was our house. It had been a present from her parents shortly after the natural gas discovery changed their lives.



Two months became three. I called the hospital in Houston on the chance that her mother was still there. They would neither confirm nor deny that she was there or ever had been. I called the Houston Police Department to see if they could help me. No dice. Her parents' house was in Montana. A call there went unanswered. A call to the police there was no help, either. They did, however, make contact with her father who would only tell them that Madge was fine ... she just didn't want to talk to me.



We had been separated almost five months when I called her number for the untold thousandth time and a recording told me that number was no longer in service. I dialed her parents number only to be told the same thing.



Month six came and I had enough. I took a 30 day leave and flew home. The house was almost exactly as I left it except for the ungodly smell when I opened the refrigerator.



I had shipped my car to Germany, but had left hers in the garage. It was gone. I ran water in all of the sinks and flushed all of the toilets to ensure the plumbing was okay. Then I began a thorough search of the house. Some of her clothes were still there, but most of her favorite outfits were missing, as was all of her jewelry and several other things she particularly liked; paintings, sculpture, and some other items. I talked to the neighbors and they had no idea she had been there. The consensus was that she had shown up in the middle of the night and skulked away without telling anybody. 



After chatting a bit more, I returned to my house where I cleaned the refrigerator and kitchen before I managed to get my mower started to cut the grass. As I mowed, I tried to figure out when she could have come to get her stuff. If it had been recently, the battery in her car would most likely have been dead and I know that she would have no idea how to jump start it so she would have needed help, but she hadn't asked our neighbor ... so who helped her?



I was really getting pissed so I flew out to Montana, rented a car and drove to the ranch. I had been there before of course and knew there was a fence around the property. But this time there was something new. There was an electrically controlled gate across the driveway and No Trespassing signs every few yards along the fence. The house was too far off the road for me to see any comings and goings.



I went into town and talked to the local police. I identified myself and described my situation. I asked that since I was related to the owners of the ranch ... at least as far as I knew I was still related ... if I were bound by the locked gates and signs. They expressed their sympathy, but informed me that unless I had "explicit permission" to enter, I could be found guilty of Criminal Trespass. I implied that I might ignore the locks, fences, and signs and go in anyway. At that point, their sympathy disappeared and I was informed that they didn't take trespassing lightly; in fact, they provided scenarios whereby it was possible for the property owner to legally shoot me if I did. They counselled strongly against my breaking the law.



I left and drove back to sit in their driveway. On at least two occasions, I started to climb the fence, but thought better of it so I went back to the police department and talked to them again.



All they could offer was more sympathy. They did call the ranch and was, again, informed that she was fine. Her father answered and the officer who made the call told him that I was there and wanted to see her. The officer was told that she wasn't there and wouldn't say where she was. He told them that Madge was safe and chose not to have any communication with me.



The officer suggested that I engage a local attorney.



"Can't you make him tell me where she is?" I asked.



"No sir. She has every right to disappear if she wants to."



"What if she is being held against her will? What if she's sick? Or dead?"



"Until we have reason to believe that something has happened to her, our hands are tied."



I left before I exploded.



I took his advice and found an attorney. 



Throughout the time I was in Germany, I had maintained contact with our bank, credit card companies and our investment company. Madge hadn't used the credit cards or taken any money from the bank after the first few weeks. The safe in our house had been emptied of her stuff; but my things and the deed to the house remained.



I had left all of the accounts open and available in the hope that she would use them, thereby giving me at least an idea of where she might be.



I spent the day after I talked to the local police parked so that I blocked the gate to the ranch.



On the morning of my second day parked there, I was visited by a State Highway Patrol Officer. He told me that the owners of the property had called and said I was blocking their access. I tried to explain the situation to him, but got nowhere. He told me I couldn't block their access, so I moved down the road. He was back the next day and told me that there was now a restraining order against me because the owners felt they were being stalked and feared for their safety.



I stayed as close to the gate as I could legally and the days started to get cold. Still no sight of Madge or her parents.



Daily calls to my attorney were useless. "Nothing yet." I was always told.



This went on for another week. I felt I had done everything I could, so I told my attorney to keep trying but I had to return to Germany. I wanted to save some leave time in the event it was needed for an emergency.



I returned to Pennsylvania more confused than when I went to Montana. I floundered around until it was time to return to Germany. Before I left, I put our household goods in storage and engaged an attorney. This was going to cost a fortune.



I also engaged a real estate agent who would rent the Pennsylvania house for me.



The next two and a half years went by with no change. I made two additional trips back to the states trying to come up with any possibility, but had no luck. The two attorneys had come up with nothing. They had even tried to trace the title of Madge's car to see if it had been transferred, and if so, where, but could find no record of it.



I told them to 'stand down'. I had spent a lot of money on attorneys and investigators for nothing.



The people I worked with were aware of my situation and I received a lot of sympathy ... but no practical assistance. What I did receive was the commiseration of another Captain assigned to my unit.



She was a never married graduate of West Point and we became friends. Then good friends. Then very good friends. Then lovers. Roisin (Rose) MacMahon and I had an eight month relationship in Germany which we later continued back in the states.



Rose's parents had come from Ireland as a young married couple in their early twenties. Her father's first job was washing and cleaning cars. Her mother started as a janitor in a hospital. Thirty-five years later, they owned four carwashes and a very successful office cleaning service. They had two children; Rose and her sister Megan. I met both Megan and their parents during a visit they made to Germany.



Shortly before leaving Germany, I was promoted to the rank of Major. When I did leave, I went to Fort Hood, Texas, which is located near Killeen, Texas.



Throughout my tour in Germany, I had maintained contact with my bank, credit card companies and investment company. Madge had not taken any money or used the cards after the first few weeks. 



All that came as no surprise, however, because if her parents were hiding or protecting her, they would provide all the money she needed.



The real estate agent in Pennsylvania had kept renters in the house so that was a good thing.



I had talked to a couple of different attorneys about seeking a divorce, but was told that there was no advantage to it unless I wanted to re-marry.



"How have you filed your income tax?" One of them asked.



"Married filing separately." I told him.



Rose had returned from Germany shortly after I did and was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia. Occasionally we would arrange to spend a weekend together. "When you find your wife do you intend to try to get back with her?"



"Not in this lifetime."



"What if you discover that she had no choice?"



"I refuse to believe that she hasn't had a choice in all this time."



"Jerry, I'm perfectly happy to continue our relationship the way it is. I would like it if we were stationed closer together, however, and I agree with the attorneys that a divorce is no real advantage at this point. And by not filing for one, you will have demonstrated that you had no intention of leaving the marriage."



After all this time? How could any sane person think that I had, up to this point, any intention of leaving the marriage? In fact, it should be quite the opposite; why would any sane person stay in a marriage all that time after your spouse deserts you?



As a matter of fact; why did I? I asked myself that question many times. Why didn't I just go ahead and file for divorce? 



I no longer wanted her and now I don't know exactly when this happened; but I no longer had any feelings for her. None. I didn't even hate her. It was like my soul had a void where Madge had been. So why not get a divorce? Curiosity maybe? That must be it. I felt a need to know what happened to us, I suppose. We had no problems. No debts other than normal household stuff. We had no sexual problems ... that I was aware of, at least.



I had been at Fort Hood for about eight months. Rose had a longtime friend named Janice whose father had been diagnosed with cancer and was being treated in Houston. Rose had taken leave to be with her friend during the early stages of her fathers' treatment.



Christ. Was everybody getting cancer? He was the fourth person I knew of that was dealing, or had dealt, with it and three of the four received treatment in Houston. I suppose that was because the hospital there was considered to be one of the best in the world.



One weekend Rose was in Houston with Janice and her father, so I drove the three or so hours from Fort Hood to see her.



We were having lunch in the hospital cafeteria when we heard a crash beside us. We turned to see a couple of people assisting a third. It looked like one of the patients had dropped his food tray. Rose and I tried to resume eating, but three people who had just gotten their food sat at the table next to us. We couldn't help but overhear their conversation. I glanced at the table and saw they were all dressed in 'scrubs'. They were two men and one woman. One of the men was a giant. He wasn't fat; but he was huge. He turned to look around and saw me. He smiled and turned back to the others at his table, but not before I saw that he had a ring in his nose and two metal studs in his lower lip.



The woman began to speak. "That's that poor Mr. Sims. We can't get him to eat in his room. He insists on eating here."



"Good for him. Getting out and moving around is good for him." Said the other man.



"Yeah," said the woman, "but he always insists on trying to do everything himself and he ends up in trouble. Like just now. He has trouble carrying his own tray and he doesn't like anyone helping him."



The three of them laughed.



"That's why Madge hangs around him. She likes helping him." Said the giant.



Rose started talking and captured my attention ... especially since she was talking about the two of us going to my hotel room and having sex; which we did. That was Saturday. We went to my room, got naked, got laid, got dressed, got out of there, and got back to the hospital where we met up with Janice. I left them and returned to my hotel. Rose joined me later and we spent the night having more sex.



If you have never had sex with a redheaded Irish woman, you are missing out on one of the world's biggest treats; and if she likes to talk, or scream, or moan, during sex, and she does it in her sensual Irish brogue ... well ... all I can say is you are truly missing out on a world class experience.



The next day was Sunday, and, again, Rose and I had lunch at the hospital. This time we were joined by Janice. Her father was resting in his room.



We were finished and leaving the cafeteria. Janice had forgotten her purse and I volunteered to go back for it. I had just picked it up as the giant from the day before was paying the cashier for his food. 



I re-joined the two ladies. Janice went to her father's room while Rose and I went back to my hotel room for more sex before I dropped her off at the airport for her flight home.



The next day, I was sitting in my office when I remembered the giant from the hospital. His face popped into my mind and I heard him say, 'That's why Madge hangs around him. She likes helping him.'



Madge? That's what he said. Madge. Now, I knew that my wife was not the only Madge in the world, but what if? 



I googled the name Madge. It told me that there were about 18,000 women named Madge in the USA.



So why did I go through that exercise and what did it tell me? The answers were: I have no idea; and not a fucking thing. But I couldn't shake it so I went to the next step. I discovered that 10% (more or less) of the population of the USA lived in Texas; therefore 10% (more or less) of the potential 18,000 women named Madge, or 180O (more or less) of them lived there. Google further told me that the population of Houston proper (not the whole of the greater Houston area) comprised just a shade under 10% of the population of Texas; ergo approximately 180 women named Madge lived in Houston proper.



Did any of them work in the hospital Janice's father was a patient in? I wondered.



The next Friday afternoon after work, I drove to Houston. I figured that I would try to locate the giant with the nose ring and try to engage him in conversation. There was no real reason for me to believe that the Madge he mentioned the previous week was my wife, but what did I have to lose? A few hours sitting in a hospital cafeteria and nothing else ... if you discounted my sanity. Also, I had no way of knowing if he worked weekdays or weekends or a combination of the two. My only frame of reference was the fact that I had first encountered him on Saturday and saw him again the day after that.



I sat in the cafeteria until it became obvious that the bulk of people who ate dinner there had eaten. I returned early the next morning and sat there all day, but saw neither Madge nor the giant. 



The next weekend I did it all again, but that time I did it a bit differently. I took a week of leave. 



Early Monday morning I sat and watched as the breakfast crowd came and went. Then I went to the central information desk in the main lobby.



"May I help you?" The receptionist asked. Her nametag said Wanda and she was very pretty.



"Hello, Wanda. I saw one of your employees, a very large man, helping one of the patients and I was impressed so I wanted to meet him and give him a pat on the back. Would you have any idea who he might be?"



"I'm sorry, sir. We have several large men here."



"I understand. Would it help if I told you he has a ring in his nose?"



She laughed. "Now I know who you are talking about, but I have no idea what his name is. There's no way we can know everyone who works here."



"Of course."



"You can try the personnel office but I doubt they will tell you what you want to know. Giving personal information to unauthorized people is a big no-no."



"Good idea. Thank you." I started to leave. "Oh, would you happen to know the room number of a Mr. Sims? He's a patient who seems to like doing things his way."



She laughed again. "We have more than one patient named Sims, but I know exactly who you are talking about. He sometimes comes down in the middle of the night to play the piano." She pointed to a baby grand across the lobby. "Several times a week volunteers come in to play it to entertain the patients and visitors. When Mr. Sims can't sleep he comes down and plinks around for awhile. Are you a friend or family?"

<hr pg="2" />"Actually, I'm neither. I've only seen him once, but I've heard about his independence and courage and wanted to give him a pat on the back also."



She had been typing on her computer while I spoke but stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry. If you are neither, I'm afraid I can't give you his room number." Then she gave a start. "Oh, no."



"What?" I asked.



She took a deep breath. "It appears Mr. Sims passed last night."



"I'm sorry to hear that."



"Yeah. He was a nice man."



She hit a key on her computer effectively closing the book on the late Mr. Sims.



I walked back to the cafeteria to await the lunch crowd.



It was Thursday before I saw him. I caught a glimpse of him as the door of the elevator he had just gotten on closed. I was on the first floor and I watched as the sign above the elevator door flash as it stopped. Fourth floor, then seventh, and finally tenth before it started back down.



I took the first elevator I could to the fourth floor. There was a reception desk as soon as you got off the elevator. I asked if they had seen the giant. No luck. Seventh floor had no reception desk so I went up and down the halls looking for him. Again no luck. Same thing on the tenth floor, so back to the cafeteria I went.



I had to be back to work on Monday morning so I left Houston on Sunday evening after the cafeteria dinner crowd thinned out.



On my way back to Fort Hood, I tried to figure out exactly what I was doing. Why was I wasting my time looking for someone who obviously didn't want to be found? She had become someone I had lost all affection for, but I just wanted to know why! Shit!



I figured I was going crazy so I made up my mind to end my search. I'd just find out what I needed to do to get a divorce in Texas and do it. That would rid my life of her and I could start looking toward my future instead of chasing my past.



Two more weeks went by and I had my attorney start divorce action. When they were ready, the papers would be sent to her parents' ranch in Montana.



Rose was going to Houston for the last time. Janice's father was going home in another couple of weeks. We decided to meet there again.



I arrived in Houston, got my hotel room, then picked up Rose at the airport. We spent a few hours making up for lost sex before going to the hospital. She would visit Janice and her father while I waited in the lobby.



It was crowded when I got there and someone was playing the piano. She was very good. I looked for a place to sit, but every seat was taken and wheelchairs filled most of the spaces between chairs, benches, and sofas. Many people were standing.



I had decided to go down the hall where there might be more places to sit so I turned and took a step, and bumped into the giant.



"Oops, excuse me." He said.



I was taken aback, but regained my composure quickly. "Sorry, my fault."



He stepped around me as if to leave.



"Uh, do you have a second?" I asked him.



"Sure."



"Several weeks ago, I saw you in the cafeteria and I overheard you mention someone named Madge. I have an old friend with that name and I haven't seen her in years. It isn't a very common name, and I was wondering if it might be the same person. Would you know her last name?"



"Sure. It's Turnbull. She's a volunteer here."



"Okay. Thank you. Must not be the same one."



I turned to leave. "Hey," he stopped me, "you can always go to the volunteer office and look her up. She could have changed her name."



"I'll do that. Do you know where it is?" He told me and I thanked him again. I felt like a fool. I had never given any thought to the fact that they could have an office for volunteers. I guess I just assumed they showed up in their volunteer jackets and name tags and started working. I felt really stupid.



Ten minutes later, I walked into the volunteer office.



"Hi, May I help you?" Asked the man behind the counter.



"Uh ... I'm trying to find one of your volunteers. She spent some time with a friend of mine who was a patient here and I just want to thank her."



The man laughed. "We get that a lot. Our volunteers are special. What's her name?" He asked as he took a large book off the shelf behind him.



"Madge Turnbull." I answered.



"That makes sense. Everybody loves Madge." He said as he turned the pages in the book. "Is this her?" He asked as he turned the book so I could see her picture.



I took a deep breath and looked. It might have been Madge Turnbull, but it wasn't Madge Emerson; the Madge I was looking for. Oh, well, what were the odds anyway? "Yep, that's her." I lied. "When you see her, tell her a friend of Mr. Sims said thanks."



"Will do ... and thank you."



I turned to leave the office and stared directly at another picture of a different Madge. Only this one WAS Madge Emerson and above the picture it said 'Volunteer of the Month'. But the name under the picture said Juliet Simpson. I stared at the picture a long time. There was no mistake. This was a picture of my wife.



I turned back to the desk. "I know this person." I indicated the picture. "I haven't seen her in years and I had no idea she volunteered here. Is she here today?"



He looked through a notebook on the counter. "No, sir. It looks like she's taken some time off. Care to leave your name and number? I'll see that she gets it when she comes back."



"No, that's okay. I'll be back. Thank you."



I went back to the lobby. It was still crowded so I went out the main entrance and sat on a bench. People and vehicles were steadily coming and going, but my mind was stuck on the 'Volunteer of the Month'.



I had been there for a couple of hours without realizing it when my phone rang. It was Rose.



"Where are you?" She asked.



"Uh, outside. Are you ready to go?"



"Yes."



"I'll meet you in the lobby." I was walking as I was talking and she was standing there as soon as I stepped inside the building.



She just stared when she saw me. "What's wrong?"



"I just saw Madge."



"What? Where?" She took my arm and led me to a now empty sofa. The piano player and most of the crowd were gone. We sat.



"She volunteers here, but she's using a different name."



"How did you find out?"



I told her. When I was finished, we just sat there.



"What are you going to do?" She asked.



"I don't know."



We talked for the rest of the day and evening. It was the middle of the night before I was able to sleep. The next day my mind was a bit clearer and I had come up with a course of action. I took Rose to the airport then drove to Fort Hood.



On Monday morning, I went to see my attorney. I brought him up to date and we made plans.



The next month seemed to take forever. He had engaged a detective in Houston to find out more about Madge and her life.



We met in the attorney's office and the detective began the show. "As you have already discovered, Major Emerson, she is living under the name Juliet Simpson. She has been a volunteer at the hospital for almost three years" He had a picture of her that he had taken two weeks ago. She looked pretty much the same as she did when I last saw her. Time had treated her well. "We didn't look for her at the hospital the first few days, because you said she was taking some time off, but we did talk with some of the other volunteers. She seems competent with and caring of the patients, and dedicated to seeing they are taken care of. She rarely talks about herself or the Doctor she is living with." I looked up at this news. I hadn't given much thought to the fact that she might be living with someone and I realized that I didn't give a shit. "His name is Randolph Jenkins and he is a Radiation Oncologist. They live close to the hospital in a luxury high rise condominium which, apparently, is owned by Jenkins."



He continued. "We had our first contact with her the day she returned to work. The cafeteria was full, but there was an empty chair at her table so I made myself comfortable. She wasn't very talkative, but I learned that it was cold in Montana. Over the next few days, I managed, on purpose of course, to run into her several more times, but wasn't able to get very much information from her. One time I saw her and she was sitting with her doctor but I couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying. When they finished lunch, they kissed and went their separate ways."



He paused to take a drink of water. "I followed her one evening so I found out where they lived. They have two cars. One of them is a Jag, which he drives. The other is a Lexus, which she drives. His is registered to him and hers is registered in Montana to a Jesse Duplantis. They don't often drive to the hospital; they seem to prefer riding their bikes."



The car she had when we were together was a Lexus. "Duplantis is her father." I said. "Her parents have a ranch in Montana."



"Her father might, but her mother doesn't." He said. "Records indicate that she died years ago of cancer in the hospital where your wife volunteers. The only job she has is volunteering there."



I sat back to digest what I had been told so far. My wife, if she is still my wife, lives with another man. She is living under an assumed name. She has made no effort to contact me in over three years. 



There were other things, but those seemed to be the most important at the time.



We talked for another forty-five minutes trying to decide what our next step was going to be.



I hadn't talked to Rose in a couple of weeks so when I got to my quarters I called her. We talked for an hour or so and I told her my plan.



"Good luck." She said.



I took Monday and Tuesday off and on Sunday evening I drove to Houston. At 6:00 on Monday morning, I walked into the lobby of Madge's building. There were a couple of benches there so I sat. The detective told me that if they rode their bikes they would most likely exit the building through the lobby because there was a bike rack there. The morning and clear and a bit chilly, but I figured the day was a good bike riding day. I had been there just a short time before the doorman asked what I was doing. "I'm waiting for my wife."



"Your wife?"



"That's correct; she and her lover live here."



His look was unbelievable. "There isn't going to be any trouble is there?" He said as he backed toward the lobby desk and it's telephone."



"Not from me."



"Uh ... er ... is she expecting you?"



I chuckled. "Not bloody likely, Ralph." Ralph was the name on his nametag. "It's been awhile since we've seen each other."



"Oh. One of those deals. What's her name?"



"Now Ralph, if I told you that, you, being a good and loyal doorman, would try to warn her. Wouldn't you?"



It was his turn to chuckle. "Yes, sir. I would."



For the next hour, he jumped every time the elevator door opened. Ralph was a jumpy critter.



It was almost eight when the door opened and she stepped out, putting on her riding helmet. I stepped in front of her just as she said, "Good morning, Ral ..." and her eyes widened until they were as large as dinner plates. Okay, maybe not that big ... but they were big!



"Hi, Madge. How've you been?" I asked nonchalantly.



"Uh ...uh ... what are you doing here?"



"Oh, I was in the area so I thought I'd stop by and see how you and Randy were doing."



"Randy?"



"Yeah, Randy. Or do you call him Randolph? Or Dr. Jenkins?"



"Uh, look Jerry. I don't have time right now. Why don't we meet later?" she stammered as she tried to work her way around me and out the door. But I wouldn't let her. Then the elevator door opened and a man stepped out. She took that opportunity to duck back into the elevator and the door closed before I could get around the man and into the elevator with her.



I just looked at the elevator door. "So that's her?" I heard Ralph ask and I watched as the light for the 12th floor came on above the elevator.



"That's her." I said still looking at the number 12. I turned to Ralph. You wouldn't tell me their condo number and let me go up there, would you?"



He shook his head. "Not unless you have a job with good pay and benefits for me because if I did that, I would be looking for one."



I grinned. "I'll be back, I'm sure." I said as I walked out. I had just gotten in my car when the garage gate opened and a green Jaguar pulled out onto the street. The driver put his telephone to his ear just as he drove past my car. He hadn't gone 50 feet when he slammed on his brakes almost throwing him through the windshield. His backup lights came on and he reversed toward me. I stepped out of my car just as he got beside me and he slammed on his brakes ... again. I leaned back against my car and watched as he hurriedly got out of the Jag, but he had been in such a hurry that he apparently forgot to put his transmission in Park and the Jag started backwards down the street on its own.



He managed to get back in it and stop it before it had gone too far.



When it was safely in Park, he got out again and walked up to me. I waited there, casually leaning against my car, hands in my pockets with my left ankle crossed over my right trying to act nonchalant, but feeling quite the opposite inside.



He charged up to me. "Are you the asshole bothering my girl?"



"I don't know. Are you the asshole living with my wife?" 



"Your wife?"



"If you are Randolph Jenkins and you are living with Madge Emerson or Juliet Simpson then you are living with my wife."



"She's divorced."



"Not unless she got one without telling me."



"What's your name?"



"Jerry Emerson."



He thought for a moment. "Maybe we should go somewhere and talk."



"I'd rather talk to her."



Just then one of his two, or three, or four, phones rang. "Excuse me." He reached for one of them and looked at it before answering. "Yes." He paused while listening, then spoke. "That's not what he told me." Another pause. "Where is the decree?" Pause. "When did you lose it?" Pause. "Did he get a copy?" Pause. "Did you try to find him?" Just then another of his phones beeped. He looked at it. "It's the hospital. I have to go." He put the first phone away and answered the second one. He listened for only a couple of seconds then said. "Be there in ten minutes." He started for his car. "We'll finish this later." I assumed that last comment was directed at me.



So there I stood in the street and watched the Jag speed off. He was gone and she was in their Condo maybe looking out a window and down at me. I counted up 12 floors and scanned the windows of the building, not really expecting to see her and I didn't.



I got in my car and pondered my next move. I had certainly made my presence known regardless of what happens next. I gathered from his side of his telephone conversation that she repeated her position that we were divorced, but couldn't prove it.



I would like to be able to hear their next conversation I thought as I started my car.



Not too much later, I was in my hotel room and I called my attorney and brought him up to date. Later that day he called me and confirmed that court records revealed that no petition for divorce had been filed in the State of Texas by anyone named Madge Emerson against anyone named Jerry Emerson in at least five years. The same thing in Montana and Pennsylvania. He even checked Nevada as a last resort just in case she popped over there for one of their infamous 'quickie' divorces. Nothing there either.



At nine that evening, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number so I ignored the first couple of rings. Then I thought it might be either Madge or Jenkins. My number hadn't changed and she may have kept it. I decided to answer.



"Hello."



"How much will it cost?"



"What?"



"How much will it cost to make you go away and leave her alone?"



"Who is this and what are you talking about?"



"This is Jesse, Madge's father. She's happy now. How much to make you go away?"



"Well, Jesse, she seemed pretty happy when I last saw her; other than the fact that her mother was sick, and I would like to know what happened to change that. And as far as how much it would take to make me go away, there's not enough natural gas on your property in Louisiana to make that happen until I find out."



"Now don't be a jerk, Jerry."



"Jerk? You helped hide her from her husband all this time. Her husband who has no idea what, or even if, he did anything wrong; and you call me a jerk?"



"You didn't do anything wrong. She just went through a rough time when her mother passed, and didn't want to go back to the way things were. She was looking for a little peace."



"So she stayed in Houston to work at the same hospital where her mother died? And she found peace in hiding from me for years? No, Jesse, you'll have to do better than that." I could almost hear him thinking. "It wouldn't be that she fell in love with someone else now would it?"



I heard a dial tone and smiled.



I didn't want her back. I wouldn't have her back. And her father didn't have enough money for me to take her back.



I called Rose.



We had talked for a few minutes and she didn't seem to be the Rose I knew. Normally, she would be talkative, curious, and full of advice on how she would handle the situation; but she was .. cautious, even reticent. I asked her about it.



"Jerry, I've been seeing a guy for a couple of months."



"Okay. You're allowed."



"I like him."



"What are you saying?"



"I'm saying he's here and you're not and we've gotten pretty close."



"How close?"



"Close enough so that I only want to date him."



Well, this sucks I thought. Neither of us had ever declared our love for the other, and I had never given any thought to us being permanent, But I had never given any thought to her not being there, either. Shit. "Rose," I said after thinking for a bit, "you deserve the very best. Take your guy and run as fast as you can in the direction you both want to go. Don't look back and don't feel sorry for me."



"Thank you, Jerry. Goodbye."



"Bye Rose."



If I were a drinking man now would be a perfect time ... hey, wait! I am a drinking man but I knew from having been here that this hotel had neither a mini bar nor bar, so I went to bed and watched TV half expecting to get a call from Madge.



I didn't. Not that night anyway. It was the next day.



"Hello." I said.



"Okay, let's talk."



"Where and when?"



"The hospital cafeteria. Do you know where it is?"



"I do."



"As soon as you can get here."



"On my way." I waited a long time for this so I figured I could wait a bit longer, so I took my time getting there. I walked in, got myself a cup of coffee, paid for it, and looked around. It was too early for the lunch crowd so there were lots of empty seats. She was sitting at a table next to an exit door. In case she needed a fast escape, I thought.



I walked over and sat across from her. Even though she was expecting me, she still jumped when I sat. A full minute passed before she spoke. "I'm sorry." She said. I sipped my coffee and looked at her. She tried looking me in the eye, but it didn't work. "You didn't do anything wrong." I took another sip. More silence. Finally, she spoke again. "Aren't you going to talk?"



"I didn't do anything that needs talking about."



"You're right." She took a deep breath. "When Mom, Dad, and I first got here, we were in shock. We found out Mom was a lot worse than we thought. Mom was frightened, but she accepted it better than either Dad or I. I was the worst. I felt sorry for myself and walked around in a daze not knowing what to do, say, or even think.



"One of the hospital volunteers spent a lot of time with us. She took us to Mom's treatments and stayed with us. As time went on, I depended on her for almost everything. I was weak, Jerry. Not only could I not do anything for Mom, but I couldn't even do for myself. I started spending more time alone and less time with Mom and Dad ... and less time thinking about you.

<hr pg="3" />"Our volunteer, Kathy, and I were having coffee one day when one of the doctors who knew Kathy, sat with us. Over the next few weeks, the three of us talked a lot about cancer in general, then about living with it and dying of it. He explained how difficult it was to tell someone they had it. But it was much more difficult having to tell some of them they were going to die because of it. He was very strong, Jerry. Stronger than I could ever be.



"Then he and I started having coffee without Kathy. I wanted to tell you about him and how much I relied on him and his strength ... but I couldn't."



"Would his name happen to be Randolph Jenkins?"



She lowered her head. "Yes." Then she continued. "Mom finished all her treatments and it seemed she was getting better; but then we were told that her cancer was back. By this time, any time I wasn't with her, I was with him."



"Were you sleeping with him?"



"No. He knew I was married so he limited our time together to this hospital and a couple of restaurants, but we would find places to make out." She paused again. "Just before Mom died I was at my lowest and really wanted ... no, needed some emotional support. Dad was already grieving and I was a wreck. Randy and I went to the parking garage and made out like teenagers. I tried to rape him but he made me stop. I cried for half an hour feeling even sorrier for myself. 



"He and I talked every day, but he insisted I spend as much time as I could with Mom. When she died, he was in the room with Dad and me. I would have been totally lost without him."



I was more than a little pissed by now. "And what was I? Chopped liver? That's what spouses are for. That's why you fall in love and get married ... so you can give and get support when it's needed. I'm your husband so that was my job."



"But you weren't there."



"Because you didn't want me there. You stopped talking to me. You gave up on us because some 'strong' man bought you coffee and listened to you. You cut me out of your life, Madge. That's why I wasn't there. Then you hid from me. For years. And you changed your name. What was that all about?"



"I was afraid. I HAD cut you out of my life and I was afraid you would try to find me and I didn't want to face you. I was a coward. I wanted to start over with Randy so I went to Montana, stayed for awhile and came back. Dad helped me hide and legally change my name. Juliet Simpson was the name of an old college friend of his.



"I stayed in contact with Randy. After a few months, I lied and told him I had gotten a divorce. I also told him that I was afraid of you so I also changed my name."



"And he believed you?"



"Yes."



"Why didn't you get a divorce?"



"I'm not sure. I guess I thought you would come after me ... not to hurt me, but to try to talk me out of it ... and I didn't want that."



"So you lied to your new guy."



"Yes."



"And you're still lying to him because you haven't told him you're still married. He believes you about the divorce."



"Yes."



"Even after the other day?"



"Yes."



"God, what an idiot. You must be a better piece of ass for him then you were for me."



"It isn't about the sex with us, Jerry. He is my rock, my anchor, I can't do anything without him."



"Except lie."



She stood. "I have to go."



"Oh, no you don't. We're not finished."



"Yes we are. Go away and leave me alone."



"What are you going to do when I have divorce papers sent to your condo?"



She stopped. "Don't do that, Jerry. Give them to me here. Please?"



"You're out of your mind. How long do you think you can keep this up?"



"As long as it takes. Please, Jerry."



"Go to hell." I stood and walked out.



"Jerry. Jerry! Don't do it! I'm begging you."



I kept walking and walked to the central information desk in the main lobby. Wanda, the lady I talked to the last time I stopped by was there. "Hi, Wanda. Remember me?" I asked facetiously knowing she sees hundreds of different people every day.



She laughed. "You're cute, but not that cute. How may I help you?"



"I'm looking for Dr. Randolph Jenkins."



"She started typing on her computer. Then stopped and waited. She looked at the screen then spoke. "Room 1258. Take elevator C."



"Thank you."



I started down the hall toward elevator C when I heard. "Mr. Sims. You asked about Mr. Sims."



I turned and went back and stood in front of her desk. "That's right. Does that make me any cuter?"



She laughed. "I'm willing to discuss it."



We both laughed and once again, I headed for elevator C.



Room 1258 wasn't really an office. It was the reception desk for patients receiving radiation treatments.



"May I help you?" Asked the receptionist." Is Dr. Jenkins available?""



"Do you have an appointment?"



"No ma'am."



"We can make one for you."



"I'm not a patient. It's personal." 



"I'm sorry, but Dr. Jenkins is very busy and can't see ..."



I held up my hand to cut her off. "May I have some paper?" She gave it to me and I took a pen from the counter. Then I wrote. "She's lying about the divorce, but I'm not. She wants me to give the papers to her here so you won't see them. You can have her and good luck to you." I added my phone number, folded it and gave it to the receptionist. "See that Dr. Jenkins gets this, please."



"I was just getting off elevator C on the parking garage level when my phone rang. "Hello."



"This is Randolph Jenkins. Do you have a few minutes?"



I had become very familiar with the cafeteria. He was waiting for me and didn't offer to shake hands.



"I have patients who need me and no time to waste. Tell me why I should believe you." He started.



"If you trust her, there is no reason you should."



"I do trust her. She's never given me reason not to."



"I felt the same way ... until she disappeared."



He looked at his watch. "Tell me about that."



So I did. From the day I first received orders for Germany to that very moment. I even included my relationship with Rose. My story was interrupted twice by his phone beeping, but neither beep was urgent enough for him to stop me.



When I finished, he looked me right in the eye. "And your attorney can find no record of her filing for divorce?"



"That is correct."



"Are you going to file?"



"Absolutely, and like I just told you, when I told her I was going to have the papers sent to your condo, she begged me not to."



"Mr. Emerson, my gut believes you, but my heart is conflicted. Here's what I would like to do. I would like to give her time to produce a divorce decree. If she can, all will be well and she and I will go on with our lives. If she cant ... well, I don't know for sure what I'll do."



"Giving her time is good for you, but I've given her almost four years and have no intention of giving her any more. Before today is over she will be served. So you can either go home and wait with her so she can't deny getting them or you can stay here. Makes no difference to me either way."



With that I started to walk away. "Wait." He almost yelled. "Give me two hours to finish here and get home. Will you do that?"



I nodded and walked away; headed for the garage. Exactly two hours later Madge Emerson was served with divorce papers in the condo she shared with Dr. Randolph Jenkins. The gentleman who served her told me that she didn't want to touch the envelope when he handed it to her and that Jenkins took it and physically put it in her hands before walking out the door. The two men rode wordlessly down in the elevator together. Dr. Jenkins was grim faced as he strode out onto the street.



I enjoy a really, good steak. That night I had the best one in a long time.



The next morning I was back in the lobby of the hospital. There were three people in front of me as I stood on line at the central information desk. When it came my turn, she looked up.



"May I help you ... oh, it's mister Cutie. What can I do for you?"



"I couldn't remember if there was a ring on your finger so I came back to find out."



She smiled and held up her right hand. "There is. Disappointed?" As she wiggled her hand showing off a sapphire ring.



"I would be more disappointed if it were on the other hand.



"Oh. You mean this one." And she raised her ringless left hand.



"Yeah." I smiled. "That one."



"Well, fancy that. No ring."



"In that case, would you consider having coffee with me if these slave drivers ever give you a break?"



"My, goodness. What a silver tongued devil you are. How about the cafeteria in half an hour." I was getting real sick of that cafeteria and had hoped that she would suggest someplace away from the hospital; but I figured I would take anything.



We had been there about 15 minutes. She sat sipping and stirring her coffee while I sat watching her. She was witty and intelligent and I was thoroughly happy to be with her, but I figured I'd better be honest. "In the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you I'm married."



She frowned and started to rise. "I should have known." She said disappointedly.



"Whoa ... whoa ... let me explain." She sat and stared at me as she listened to my story. When I finished she took a sip of what used to be hot coffee.



She took her cellphone and punched in a number. "Hi Maggie. It's Wanda. Is Juliet Simpson working today?" Pause. She did? Did she say why?" Another pause. "I see. Okay. Thank you." She gently and slowly put her phone on the table, looked at me and smiled. "It seems your wife just resigned. She said she would be in around six to clean out her locker and say goodbye. Apparently she needs some time off so she's going to visit her father in Montana."



Just then my attorney called. "Your wife just called and said she was throwing the papers in the trash. She said they were sent to the wrong person so they're invalid."



"What?"



"We filed for divorce from Madge Emerson. Her legal name is Juliet Simpson."



"Well, kiss my ass."



"That's exactly what she said you could do to her. She sounded like a woman on a mission. If I were you, I'd watch my back until we can refile."



"Okay, hold on just a second." I thought for a few seconds before speaking back in the phone. "Can you get a new set of papers here before six?" His office was in Killeen near Fort Hood.



"Sure. I can have an associate do it. He can get them served."



"I understand she will be at the hospital volunteer office about then." I looked at Wanda and smiled. "That might be the best time to catch her because I understand she might be leaving for Montana." He agreed and assured me it would happen. 



"Anything I can do?" Wanda asked.



I shook my head and put my phone on the table. "It seems my wife is being a pain." And I told her what I had just heard. "So, if you'll excuse me, it seems I have some work to do.



"Of course." She picked up my phone and added me to her contact list. She pushed my phone in my direction as she stood. "Call me sometime." She touched my arm as she walked by me to leave.



At five that afternoon, I watched as two nondescript people took up positions near the volunteer office. At seven minutes after six, they converged on Madge/Juliet and served her with new papers. She looked around and I waved to her.



I called my attorney and brought him up to date. I thanked him for making a lot happen in a short period of time. We chatted for a few minutes before he brought up the subject of my finances.



"She hasn't touched a penny in years. Why would she do it now?"



"She wasn't pissed at you before; now she is. But I warn you. Don't take everything." 



He made perfect sense to me so I immediately got on the phone and started moving money. Two hours later, about 60% of everything we had was in different accounts. I took that much because we were happily married for about six years and she disappeared for almost four.



Later that evening, I called Wanda.



"How's it going?" She asked, so I told her about the day's events. She laughed. "I heard somebody got served at the volunteer office and figured it was her. Apparently she wasn't very happy about it and let her feelings, especially as they concerned you, be known."



"Screw her. I don't understand why she's upset. It's her fault for getting caught in a lie. Anyway, I have to go back to Fort Hood tomorrow and was wondering if you had time for a drink this evening?"



"Actually, I'm having dinner now."



"How about later?"



She hesitated. "I can't." 



"Oh." Pause. "I'll bet you're on a date."



"Uh ... yes."



"Oops. God, I'm sorry. Maybe some other time." I ended the call.



I was halfway to Fort Hood the next day when my phone rang. "Hello."



"Well, you were right." I recognized the voice of Dr. Randolph Jenkins. I had given some thought to him and concluded that I felt a little sorry for him. If Madge was to be believed at all, he tried to be honorable at the beginning of their relationship; she was the one who started lying.



"What happens now?" I asked.



"I don't know. I believe the old adage 'once a cheater, always a cheater' and as far as I'm concerned, the same goes for liars." He paused. "She was gone when I got home last night."



"Montana?"



"Probably."



"Are you going after her?"



"No."



"Good for you. Maybe some cowboy in Montana won't mind that she lies and cheats. Wait. I take that back. No hardworking, honest cowboy deserves to be shit on, either."



He chuckled. "You know, I see desperate people almost every day of my life. I see people who know they're dying and fight, desperately, for just another day of life ... then there's the other side; those who use and take advantage of situations and other people ... but for totally different reasons. It is becoming apparent to me that Juliet is one of those."



"She wasn't always like that." I felt compelled to say. "She was an honest, loving, and, I believe, devoted wife until her mother was diagnosed. She told me that she couldn't handle the stress and trauma of the disease and death and I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you love her, maybe you should give her another chance."



He chuckled again. "Maybe you should too."



"No, thank you." Too much time has passed and I have no more good feelings for her ... there are lots of bad ones though. Maybe if I had found her sooner, things would have been different; but not now."



"I understand. Well, good luck. I hope things work out for you."



"Thank you. Same to you."



It was a week later that I called Wanda. "I didn't know if you would call again." She said.



And so it began. I drove to Houston the following weekend and we had dinner on Friday evening, theatre and dinner on Saturday. It went that way for several weekends. One day she called me and invited herself to Fort Hood. I was more than happy to see her. 



I thought sex with Rose was hot, but that Texas gal rode me like she stole me. I have never been fucked so thoroughly in my life. It started when I opened the door. She launched herself at me and kicked the door closed with her foot. She locked her arms around my neck and smashed her lips to mine. We had kissed before, but never like this.



And something else was different. She wasn't wearing a bra. I knew because I could feel her nipples poking holes in my chest and I instantly had a hardon. She felt it and reached down to touch it which made it even harder. I took a deep breath. "Well, well, well," She whispered in my ear. "How long has it been Mr. Cutie?"



"Seems like years." I said.



"So it would be a shame to make you wait any longer, wouldn't it?"



"Uh huh." I managed to squeak out.



At that, she wasted no time getting us both naked. I was right. She wasn't wearing a bra. I didn't spend much time admiring her body, because, again, she launched herself at me; and when she did, we both fell to the floor where I was almost knocked out when my head smashed into the hardwood floor, bounced, and smashed onto the floor again.



It took a couple of minutes for my head to clear and for me to remember where I was and what I was doing ... or, rather, what was being done to me. She didn't miss a beat. All the time I was trying to clear my head, she was kissing me; down my body to my knees and back again. On her way back up, she stopped at my dick, and in one swift motion vacuumed it into her mouth and didn't stop until her lips were in my pubic hair. I had a fleeting thought of a sword swallower putting a long sword down their throat; not that my dick is anywhere near the length of a sword. The thought was fleeting because I began fucking her mouth.



My head was now clear; well, at least clear enough to enjoy the feeling of her head bouncing up and down so I started bouncing with her. As her head went down, my body went up. When she off of my dick, I lowered my ass to the floor so when her head started down again, my ass went up. That was the absolute best head I have ever had and when I shot ... which didn't take too long ... it blasted out of me like a bullet coming out of a gun barrel. I thought I was going to blow her brains out. Okay ... that's an exaggeration, but man, did it feel powerful.



She let me relax for a couple of minutes then helped me get to my feet. "Where is the bed?" She asked.



"Follow me." And I started to my bedroom on pretty shaky legs.



We were standing beside the bed and her hands went to my face, cupping it. "Ready for more?" She asked.



"Indeed, I am."



The rest of the weekend was fabulous. I was completely fucked out by Sunday afternoon; but so was Wanda. She left for home on wobbly legs.



My phone rang about mid-morning the next day. It was Wanda, "Didn't you get enough over the weekend?" I asked.



"Enough for the weekend, but today is another day. What's the matter? Too much for you?"



I laughed. "No ma'am. Just worried about you."



"Well, your worry is misplaced because you obviously don't know Texas women very well. I can fuck you fourteen ways to sundown and still have some left over."



"That works two ways, hot stuff." We both laughed.



Guess who's back in Houston?" She asked after our laughter died down.



"No idea. Who?"



"Juliet."



"Who?"



"Your wife."



"Oh, well. I don't care. She's free to go wherever she wants." There was a short pause. "How do you know?"



"Maggie, in the volunteer office, told me that one of their volunteers just returned from Montana. Not too many of our volunteers have either been to, or come from Montana, so I asked her who it was. She told me."



"Here's hoping she stays long enough for the divorce to go through. Did Maggie mention whether or not Madge was living with the good doctor again?"



"Never came up and I didn't ask." She said.



"He seems like a nice guy. I hope she doesn't fuck over him again."



"From what you've told me, he was a willing participant."



"He told me he thought she was divorced and she confirmed that to me and I think I believe her. After all, when she told me she had nothing to lose. Whatever trips his trigger, I suppose. Are you coming to see me this weekend?"



I grinned at the thought of the past weekend. "A herd of longhorns couldn't keep me away."



"Good ... See you Friday."



"Yes, you will."



The rest of the week was uneventful. On Friday afternoon, I was on my way to Wanda's when I decided to make a side trip. I parked my car in front and walked through the front door. The doorman met me. "Is Ralph here?"



"He left about two minutes ago."



"Will he be here tomorrow?"



"No, sir. He's off on weekends."



"Okay. Thank you." Just as I opened the door to leave, Ralph was coming in. "Hey, Ralph. Remember me?"



He looked at me. "No sir." He walked toward the other doorman and spoke to him. "Forgot my keys. They're in the desk." He said as he walked around the desk, opened the center drawer, took his keys and started out.



"Ralph, wait a minute, is my wife back?"



He stopped, turned and to me. "How in the world would I ...?" Then he recognized me. "Oh, shit. It's you."

<hr pg="4" />"Yep. It's me. Is she back?"



He turned to the other doorman, who wasn't wearing a nametag. "Don't tell this guy anything." He jerked his thumb in my direction. With that, he was out the door.



I watched him leave, then followed him out and headed for my car. He was waiting when I got outside. When he saw me, he motioned for me to follow him. The gate to the garage opened and I followed him in. Once inside, he turned and waited for me to approach him. "That other guy is an asshole and I didn't want him to hear us." He light a cigarette. He was the first person I had seen in a long time who smoked. He took a drag then exhaled in my direction without thinking. I moved to get away from the smoke. 



I asked him again. "Is my wife back?"



He took another drag on his cigarette. "Yes."



"Did she move back in?"



"I don't think so. She's been in and out, but her car hasn't been here overnight." He took another drag and exhaled. "I like the Doc. He's lived here for seven years and is a good guy. If your wife is fucking over him and playing mind games then she's the villain; not the Doc."



From what little I knew of Dr. Randolph Jenkins, he was a nice guy, and the fact that Madge lied to him all those years did, indeed, make her the villain. 



I gave him my number and asked him to call me when or if she moves back in.



Wanda and I had dinner that evening at a nice restaurant. We chose to have dessert at her apartment. Needless to say our dessert was sex. 



The next morning we were awakened by her phone ringing. They needed her to work because someone didn't show up. It was time and a half so she went in. I agreed to meet her at the hospital for lunch.



We were having lunch when she poked me in my ribs. I looked at her and she used her fork to indicate the line you go through to pay for your food; Madge and Jenkins were just paying; or, rather, HE was paying. We watched as they tried to find an empty table. They were walking around the large dining area and someone who, apparently, knew one or both of them stopped them. They were just leaving so Madge and Jenkins took their table.



Wanda and I sat and slowly finished our meal while keeping a curious eye on Madge and Jenkins. In just a few minutes, we saw Madge jump to her feet and storm out of the cafeteria. It appeared that all might not be well in their world. Jenkins stayed, had a couple more bites of food, then stood and left.



We watched him leave and Wanda jumped up, took her apartment key off her keyring, tossed it on the table, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, and said. "Wait for me at my place. Call you later."



I finished my lunch and went to her apartment to wait. Two hours later my phone rang.



"Hello."



"You won't believe what happened." Wanda managed to get out while laughing.



"I give up."



"Apparently Juliet, Madge or whoever the hell she is, stormed into the volunteer office and announced that she was going back to Montana for good this time. Then she gathered whatever stuff she had and left. She started out the door and ran smack into someone who was coming in the door. She bounced off him, turned, took a step, and walked into the edge of the door, knocking herself out. Her head was bleeding and they took her away to look after her."



"That would have been fun to see." I said laughing. Maybe it knocked some sense into her."



"Maybe."



Wanda was home two hours later and we spent most of the rest of the weekend in bed. Sunday evening I drove back to Fort Hood.



My phone woke me early Monday morning. Caller ID told me who was calling. "Hello Rose. What's up?"



"Hello stranger. I was just wondering if you wanted a visitor next weekend."



I thought about it for a few seconds before answering. "I don't think that's a good idea, Rose. I have plans and as they say, three is a crowd."



"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. A short pause. "A woman?"



"Yes."



"Your wife?"



"Good God, no."



"What's happening on that front. Your wife, that is, not the woman."



"Just waiting for the divorce to be finalized. Another couple of months."



"Are you serious about the new woman?"



"She's a lot of fun."



"Yeah, but are you getting serious?"



"Too soon to tell, but I don't want to jeopardize it."



"I see. Well, I'll tell you the same thing you told me, 'you deserve the best'. But if it doesn't work out, give me a call and we'll compare notes. Okay?"



"Okay."



My life was almost normal for a whole week. 



"Hello." I said when my phone rang and I had a quick thought about how did we ever get along without cellphones?



"Okay, let's talk."



That's how she started our last telephone conversation. "Where and when?" That's how I started our last telephone conversation.



"The phone is fine. What I have to say will be short and sweet." She paused to take a breath. "Let's get this divorce over with. The court will give me half of everything so why don't we just go with that?"



"I don't think so. You walked out of my life without a word and would still be out of it had I not found you. You don't deserve half for that, and, regardless of what you say, I don't think any court in the land would give it to you. No, Madge. Not now ... not ever."



"Okay, Jerry, I'll take 25% just to speed things up."



"Uh, still don't think so. My life was a total shamble. You've been gone a long time and are living with a man who is not your husband; and, I might add, the courts in Texas take a dim view of adultery."



"First of all, thanks to you, I'm not living with him anymore."



"Good for him. I knew there was something about him I liked."



"Fuck you Jerry."



The phone went dead and I grinned.



Less than five minutes later, it rang again. It was Madge so I let it ring until it went to voicemail. Another five minutes and it rang again. Another voice mail.



"Goddamn it, Jerry. I know you're there. Answer the phone."



I let her call three more times before I answered. She was pissed and I didn't care.



"All right, you bastard." She started. What do you think would be fair?"



"Sign the papers and send them back. You get nothing. Nada. Nil. Zip. Zero; except, of course you get to keep your doctor; if he'll have you. Oh, and you get to keep your car and the other stuff you took from the house. Where is your car by the way?"



"Are you insane?"



"Actually, I'm deadly serious." Up until just a few minutes ago, I had no problem with her getting half; but for some reason on the spur of the moment, I decided to play hardball. Maybe part of it was the fact that she told me that she wasn't living with her doctor anymore and out of a sense of malice, I decided to 'pile on' to her misery. Schadenfreude, it's called. Getting pleasure from someone else's misfortune.



"Got to hell, Jerry."



That pretty much ended the call. So the courts would give her half ... no big deal. The largest asset we had was the house in Pennsylvania her parents had given us, so half of what we had actually belonged to her anyway.



My life went on for a couple of months. I kept expecting to hear from my attorney that we had a date to appear in court, but I never did. Military duties kept me at Fort Hood and I had neither seen nor heard from Wanda in a while. I finally had a break in my schedule and called her about my coming to visit her over the weekend.



"I'm sorry, Jerry. I'm busy."



"Oh. How about next weekend?"



"Uh, Jerry, it's been a long time and I ... uh, well, he's here and you're there ..."



"I understand. Maybe I'll see you sometime." First Rose, now Wanda. And if I remember correctly, Madge may even have said something like that. 'He's here and you're there.' Maybe I should take a closer look at myself.



Fortunately, my army duties over the next several weeks forced my attention away from my personal life because I was alerted for movement to a very hot, arid country half way around the world. I informed my attorney that I might be gone as long as a year and told him that he could send me anything he needed to ... especially my divorce decree. Then I informed the real estate agent in Pennsylvania of what was happening and that Madge might become the sole owner of the property, but until it happened officially, all rent checks should continue to go into my account.



Part of the pre-deployment paperwork to the area my unit was going, was the making out of a Will. Since, I have no close relatives or significant other, I left what I had to a distant cousin in Tennessee I had only met a couple of times. Her life might be improved somewhat in the event I didn't make it home.



Two months into my deployment, I received a letter from my attorney informing me that my divorce was final. He included a copy of the decree. The big surprise, however, was the fact that Madge didn't challenge it; in fact, she didn't even show up. That being the case, I got everything including the house. Maybe my little talk with her helped; or maybe the fact that her father has more money than god was the larger influence. Anyway, I was clear of her and several hundred thousand dollars richer than I thought I would be.



The rest of my year in the sand dunes was relatively uneventful. I stayed in one piece and left with an almost all over tan.



My reassignment orders said that I was assigned to MDW (Military District of Washington) for further assignment as may be directed. That meant that I was going to the Washington, DC area but nobody had any idea where . That decision would be made after I got there.



One interesting thing about the orders was the signature at the bottom. The signature itself was difficult to read, but the typed name below the signature was Major Roisin MacMahon.



Roisin MacMahon? Rose? There couldn't be very many people in the Army with that name so it must be her.



As soon as I was back in the States and off the plane, I took out my phone and called her, not knowing if her number was still good. When she answered, I smiled at the lilt in her voice.



"Well, hello, soldier. When did you get home?" She still had my number listed as one of her contacts.



"I just stepped off the plane."



"Welcome back. Where are you?"



"Charlotte. I have thirty days leave so I'm going to Fort Hood to pick up my car and arrange to have my household goods shipped to DC." I had put everything in storage prior to going overseas.



"When will you be in DC?"



"A couple of weeks. I don't need much of a leave, Nowhere to go and no one to see.



"No wife or girlfriend?"



"No."



"Then this could work out pretty well for you. There's a job in The Pentagon which needs to be filled in the next couple of weeks. Interested?"



"All depends. What is it?"



"Action Officer for your specialty. Working for the Chief of Staff. It's high visibility and a pretty cool job."



"Okay, I'll take it." I paused. "The last I knew you were in Georgia. How is it that you signed my orders?"



She chuckled. "Do you remember the guy I thought might be 'the one?"



"Yeah."



"Well, it turns out he wasn't. But he worked for a guy, who knew a guy, whose third cousin knew somebody important ... get where I'm coming from?"



"Not really."



"That's okay. The bottom line is that he had a connection with my assignment branch manager and had me transferred to get rid of me. The transfer was to the personnel office here. When I got here, I looked you up and have followed you for the past few months. When I saw that you were due to come home, I took a chance and got you sent to DC. I hope you don't mind."



"Of course not."



"Good. So maybe you'll call me when you get here and we can have coffee."



"Absolutely. Talk to you in a few days."



"Sooner if you feel like it."



I smiled. I would probably feel like it. Just before ending the call, I added. "By the way. Congratulations on the promotion to Major."



"Thank you. It just happened a couple of months ago. I haven't even had time to celebrate."



I smiled again. I had no pussy in over a year so I'd love to help her celebrate; preferably with lots of alcohol and very few, if any, clothes.



I arrived back in Killeen in time for dinner that evening at the Officer's Club. I spent the next three days shipping my household goods and making sure my car was ready for the trip.



I decided to go through Houston on my way to DC. It may have been a bit out of the way, but what the hell.



I could see that Wanda was sitting at the information desk so I took my place in line. When it came my turn she looked up and spoke. "May I help ... It's you!!" She stood, came around the desk and hugged me. "How have you been? Where have you been?"



I spent the next half hour bringing her up to date. It took that long because we kept getting interrupted by people needing assistance.



"But as they say, enough about me ... let's talk about you. How have you been?" I said, finally.



"Pretty much same shit different day. Not much excitement and even less romance."



"Oh? Didn't it work out with the guy you were seeing?"



"It worked out okay. We got married." She lifted her left hand to show, me her rings. "Hence the end of the romance." We both laughed but there seemed to be a touch of sadness in her laughter. 



I hadn't consciously considered asking her about Madge and Jenkins, but somehow the question popped out. "Any update on my ex-wife and her doctor?"



"Oh, my God, yes." She laughed. "You know that she left for a while, but came back and tried to get him to take her back. Do you remember the incident when she knocked herself out when she hit the door?"



"I certainly do."



"My friend Maggie told me that for a few days after that she hung around the hospital, trying to get him to forgive her. He absolutely refused and apparently told her that not only was she a liar, but also a cheater. She told him she never cheated, but he reminded her that she had lived with him while still knowingly married to you and that made her an adulterer. Anyway, she stopped coming around and nobody has seen her in months."



"Good for him."



"Somebody said her family had tons of money. Is that true?"



"Yep. So her father will take care of her."



There was a long pause before she spoke. "Well, I guess I better get back behind the desk. It was good seeing you again."



"Same here." We hugged and kissed, only this time the hug lasted longer ... long enough to make my dick hard. The kiss didn't help. It was a nice, long kiss which, along with remembering how great a fuck she was, made me even harder. She obviously felt it because she rubbed closer to me. And laughed. 



"Been a long time, has it?"



"Over a year."



"I'm sorry. I shouldn't try to make it worse for you; and if I weren't married we could take care of that, but even if it isn't the best marriage in the world ..."



I stopped her. "I understand and I wouldn't ask you to anyway. Weren't we just talking about someone like that?"



She chuckled. "Yeah ... we were. Goodbye, Jerry."



"Goodbye, Wanda." And with that she returned to her desk. 



It took me a bit over two days to get to Washington. I had called Rose to let her know I was coming so she met me in the lobby of the guesthouse at Fort Myer. We hugged and kissed and I couldn't avoid getting another hardon. She had to have noticed it, but said nothing.



We ate dinner and talked. I learned that her current 'beau' was a civilian who worked for a popular politician. We ended the evening with her offer to help me find a place to live. I took her up on her offer.



The next morning, I called my realtor in Pennsylvania and told her to sell my house. Then I made arrangements to meet a local realtor and start looking for a house for me. I looked at a couple of houses the first day but found nothing interesting. Rose joined me the second day and we saw three more houses; none of which impressed me. The third day was different. We went to Vienna, Virginia. The only house we saw that day was 'the one'. I knew it as soon as we turned in the driveway. Neither Rose, the realtor, nor I said anything after he opened the door. He was pretty smart and knew the house would sell itself. We just walked through it and around the outside. We were in the car before anyone spoke. "How much?" I asked. I didn't hesitate when he told me. "I like the house, but that seems a bit high. Make an offer $5000 below asking price."



"They'll never agree." He said. "It's a great house in a 'hot' market. The house will sell above the asking price."



"Make the offer, anyway." I said.



Turned out he was right. I ended up with the house, but only after winning a bidding war. The only reason I could afford it was because Madge hadn't fought the divorce and I got the house her parents had given us. I made a very nice down payment, and figured the sale of the house in Pennsylvania would cover most, if not all, of the rest of it.



Life was moving along very nicely. I started the job Rose had recommended and really enjoyed it. The Pennsylvania house sold quickly. As a matter of fact, the family who had been renting it ended up buying it. What they paid coupled with my down payment enabled me to almost pay off my new house.



The only thing not going well was my sex life ... or lack of it. I had hoped to help Rose celebrate her promotion, but that didn't work out. When she did find time to celebrate, it was with her civilian boyfriend.



I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would ever go over a year without getting laid, but it happened. Working around women and being around Rose with their perfumes and tight clothes was driving me crazy. I was tired of jacking off and I wanted to see some tits. I wanted to put my hands on them and suck them. I wanted some pussy. I wanted to taste it and fuck it.



I had not met a single woman other than Wanda and Rose who piqued my interest or made my dick hard; which was strange because I was so horny that almost any female should be able to do that.



I was sitting at my desk feeling sorry for myself and daydreaming about being surrounded by tits, ass, and pussy when she walked in. Actually, walked isn't exactly the right description of how she entered. Stormed was more like it. "Are you Major Emerson?"



She was wearing civilian clothes and carrying some papers, which became all crumpled when she crossed her arms across her chest and stood there impatiently. She made no attempt to hide her bad attitude. I slowly reached over to the front of my desk, picked up the name plate that was there, looked at it, then looked down at the name tag on my shirt and returned the name plate to its' position at the front of my desk. "Well I'll be jiggered. It appears I am."



"Don't get smart with me, Major. You've caused me to have a very bad day."



She was wearing a nametag which identified her as Captain Bryant; so I outranked her. "Well, Captain Bryant, I don't particularly give a rats ass what kind of day you've had so you can take your ass out of my office and come back when you can be a bit more civil." When I finished, I shifted my attention to the document I had been working on before I started feeling sorry for myself.



She stood in front of my desk for a couple of minutes before I sensed that she moved to a chair next to my desk and sat. I ignored her for another couple of minutes before I looked at her and spoke. "Why are you still here?"



She held the crumpled papers up. "I have to talk to you about this."



I stuck my hand out and she reached close enough to put them in my hand. My dick came to attention when I got my first whiff of her very subtle perfume. So far only Wanda and Rose had been able to do that. The papers were visibly shaking as I put them on my desk and took some time to glance through them. "Okay. Talk." I said.



"The recommendations are all wrong." She went on to tell me all the mistakes which had been made. At least I assume that's what she was talking about. I was too busy watching her breasts move. I realized at some point that she had stopped talking, and when I looked up, she was glaring at me. "Would you please get your mind out of the gutter and your eyes off my tits long enough to at least pretend to listen to me?"

<hr pg="5" />I pulled my eyes away from her tits and looked at her. "Where do you work, and how long have you been here in the Pentagon?"



"I'm Captain Louise Bryant," she said, pointing at her nametag. "I work for SecDef (Secretary of Defense) and I have been here almost a month. Why?"



I had only been there a couple of weeks longer; but, it appeared, I knew more about how staffing worked. "Has anyone ever told you how things work around here?"



"Of course."



"Then you know that I don't control what information goes in this or any other staffing paper."



"What do you mean? Your name is on it."



"So are the names of a dozen other people. I'm just the guy who gets the action and farms it out to the experts on the Army Staff who have the knowledge and ability to address whatever the action addresses. I don't know how or why SecDef's office got involved because you weren't on the initial staffing distribution."



"We received it through DCSOPS (Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations and Plans) as an additional action office."



"Okay. You're on the distribution, and are expected to contribute something. I don't contribute anything except my ability to organize and monitor That's it. When everyone who has input has provided that input, I assemble and organize the complete package and deliver it to the Chief of Staff for review and comment. If he has any questions, I organize a meeting between him and the people who provided the information; then at the meeting I sit back, listen, and take notes. Then I ensure that whatever action the Chief of Staff desires gets done. Then I assemble and organize the package ... again ...and we do it all over until The Chief is happy. So, Captain Bryant, you can take your shitty attitude and stick it up your ass. Put any comments you have in writing and I will be happy to add them to the overall package and they can be discussed at the next meeting." I looked at my watch. "That is, if you can have them back here today because it goes to The Chief tomorrow morning." I tossed the papers at her and they landed on the floor.



When she leaned over to pick them up, I got just a quick glance down her blouse and smiled.



Captain Louise Bryant retrieved the papers, stood and headed for my office door.



Several hours later, she was back. This time with the comments of the SecDef's office incorporated into the package the way they were supposed to be.



"Thank you." I said.



"You're welcome." And she was gone.



Two days later, I was in a meeting with some of the Pentagon's heavyweights. While the principals sat around the big oval table, my seat was a chair against the wall as far from the table as a chair could get and still be in the room. Majors don't rank very high in most meetings in the Pentagon. Captains rate even lower, so when Captain Louise Bryant entered with her Three Star General boss, he went to his seat at the table and she sat next to me; not because she wanted to, but it was the only empty seat in the room. She was, again, in civilian clothes, because if you worked for the SecDef, that's what you wore. Her boss was also in civilian clothes, but I knew from his pictures that he had three stars.



She sat and said nothing. There was a low murmur in the room as we waited for the Chief.



The meeting lasted about 15 minutes after he arrived. He listened then gave very specific guidance and took no questions. I took notes.



The Chief, Captain Bryant's boss, and one other general stayed around to chat when the meeting was over. Bryant and I just stood ignoring each other.



I saw her at one other meeting a couple of weeks later. We ignored each other then as well.



It was less than a week after I last saw Captain Bryant that Rose called.



"Hello, Rose. What's up?"



"Hi, soldier. My sweetie just got promoted and is throwing a party and you're invited."



"Me? I've never even met the guy."



"We know, but you're an exception." I hesitated. "Come on, Jerry. You'll like him and you'll have fun."



"Okay. Where and when?"



"Good." She said and gave me the address. "He just has an apartment, so he's having the party at his parents place. By the way, don't bring anything. There will be more than enough food and drink."



There were about 40 people there when I arrived. The party was outside and I found the bar, got me a drink, and started to mingle. I recognized a couple of the people there from seeing them on television. I was out of place in this crowd and had made up my mind to leave when someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned and Rose hugged me.



"I'm glad you came. Come with me I want you to meet Roy." Roy was her 'beau'. He turned out to be a really nice guy; but most politicians give the impression of being nice guys or gals even while they are picking your pocket. Roy was no exception. His boss was a very popular member of Congress and Roy had just become his executive assistant or some such. He saw us coming and detached himself from the two people he was with and came to meet us. He didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that Rose was holding my hand as we walked.



"Roy, this is Jerry Emerson. Jerry, this is Roy Fitzgerald."



He and I shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. He was, as I have already mentioned, a really nice guy and I liked him. In fact, He, rose, and I, spent most of the next half hour together interrupted only by other attendees wishing him well in his new job. One of the well-wishers was his boss, whom I had recognized immediately because of seeing him on television. 



The party was winding down when Rose looked over my shoulder; grinned and said. "Don't go away. There's someone I want you to meet." She left and I turned to see where she was going. A late comer had just arrived and I saw Rose hug her. Then I saw who she was. Kiss my ass, I thought as Rose led her over to me. "Jerry, I want you to meet one of my friends from the Academy, Louise Bryant. Louise, this is a very special friend of mine and a fellow soldier, Jerry Emerson."



We just looked at each other for a long time, neither of us extending a hand for the other to shake. Likewise neither of us spoke.



Rose was somewhat taken aback by our lack of enthusiasm and looked from Bryant to me. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke. "Well, ah, Louise, I think I've mentioned Jerry, before. We served in Germany together and dated for a long time." No response from either of us so she continued. Uh, Jerry, Louise and I met at West Point. She graduated a year after me." Still nothing from either of us so she continued. "Louise works for SecDef and is on the Major's list.



Finally, I spoke. Captain Bryant and I have met. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be leaving." I turned to leave, but Rose grabbed my arm.



"Oh no you don't buster! You stay right here and tell me why you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios." Then she looked at Captain Bryant. "And you. What about Jerry has you acting like you'd rather be anywhere but here?" We just looked off into space until Rose spoke again. "Goddam it, Jerry, I mean it. What's going on?"



So I started. "Captain Bryant stormed into my office like her shit didn't stink and I didn't care for her attitude. We've seen each other a couple of times since then and her attitude hasn't improved."



"That's bullshit." Said Bryant. You're the one with the attitude problem. I simply wanted to talk about an action and you picked up that name plate on your desk and looked at it then talked to me like I was a three year old."



"That's because you acted like a three year old."



"Hold it. Hold it." Said Rose. We apparently had the attention of some of the people around us so Rose took both of us by our arms and led us away from the party. When we were a sufficient distance from the rest, we stopped. "Now, listen, you two. This is a big day for Roy and we three are the only military types here. I will not have you acting like babies in front of these civilians. We have it tough enough the way it is, so goddam it, kiss and make up or I'll never speak to either of you again." Neither of us moved. "I mean it. Now shake hands and apologize." I looked at her then at Bryant and slowly stuck out my hand; Bryant, even slower, took it. We pumped twice and dropped hands as if we held hot pokers. "Well, it's a start." Said Rose. "Now, let's go mingle with these civilians and try to pretend you're enjoying yourselves."



The party had been on its last legs before Bryant arrived so it was no surprise when it broke up shortly after Rose had read us the riot act. I was sitting in my car waiting for the car behind me to leave so I could leave when I saw Bryant coming toward me. She had her keys in her hand as she passed me; then she stopped and used one of her keys to tap on my window. I lowered it. "Major Emerson, I really am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression of me that first time. The only excuse I can offer is that I have no excuse." With that she headed for her car. I sat there and realized that just like the last time I had smelled her perfume, I had a hardon. Then I tried to figure out why it hadn't affected me at the party and the conclusion I reached was ... uh ... fuck it, who cares. It was just another hardon and I was tired of hardons without pussy.



I saw Captain Bryant the following week in another meeting. We acknowledged each other but that was it. Things got a bit warmer a short time after that when I went to the center court of The Pentagon to get a hotdog for lunch and I saw her standing in line in front of me. She paid for her dog and was standing by the condiment cart when I went up to her. "Pardon me, would you mind sharing the mustard?"



She looked at me and it took a couple of seconds but she smiled. This time is wasn't her perfume that made me hard. Her smile radiated all over the center court area.



That hotdog lunch lasted a very long time according to the clock, but in my mind, it was the most fleeting of moments.



We had lunch twice that week and dinner on Friday.



The next three weeks went by very quickly. Lunch almost daily and dinner at least three times a week with her. I learned a lot about Captain Louise Caitlin Bryant. She was an Army brat and, as Rose told me, had graduated from West Point. Her father was a retired Major General; that meant he had two stars. He and her mother lived in Winchester, Virginia in horse country. After graduating from West Point, she did a tour in Hawaii (arranged by her father) and another at Fort Lewis, Washington. He still had connections and had her reassigned to MDW so she could be close to her parents.



It took six weeks before she allowed me to see her breasts and another three before I had my first fuck in way too long.



I've never read a story where any male described any tits he ever saw as ugly or deformed; they are always beautiful and perfectly shaped. They use words so descriptive that the reader can almost feel and taste the tits in the story. I don't have the talent to do that. But what I can do is tell you that I've seen, touched, and tasted a few breasts in my life; but none have satisfied my senses of sight, touch, and taste like hers. Wanda was close, but goddamn, Louise was the best.



That was just the start. The rest of her was just as perfect. I watched as her slacks slid down perfect legs. I watched as her thong, what little there was of it, slid down those beautiful legs, and exposed just a bit of soft brown hair. I waited on my knees in rapt anticipation as first her left foot and then her right moved outward exposing to my view the first pussy I had seen since before being deployed lo these many months ago.



My head moved slowly forward to allow my nostrils to flood my senses with her scent. My tongue reached out to taste her, but before it could touch her, she slid to her knees matching my position. I was still dressed and knelt there as she unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders. Then she leaned forward and kissed me. ... long and softly ... as she pulled my t-shirt from my pants. We moved apart only long enough for her to put her hands under the t-shirt and push it up. I raised my arms as she slid it up and off joining my shirt on the floor behind me.



Then we kissed again and I felt her nipples barely touching my chest; and I could feel fire shooting out of them singeing my chest hairs and scorching my inner being. My lungs were working overtime trying to supply the rest of me with air. It was then that she moved closer. Crushing her breasts into me. Her nipples were now part of me and burned into my very soul as our kiss continued. It continued as we stood together and made our way to my bed. It continued as I as I turned her back to the bed and she lowered herself with me following until she was on her back and I was on top of her. The kiss continued as she reached to unbuckle my belt and push my pants and underwear down my own legs. She spread her legs and my dick found itself at her pussy moving on its own accord trying to find a way to enter her. The problem was solved when I lifted my hips and she moved her right hand between us and touched my dick. It was the first right hand to touch it in a very long time because I'm lefthanded, but it reacted like any normal dick in that situation would react. It jerked. Then jerked again. And yet again like a wild animal straining at the leash trying to break free; but freedom in this case was finding the tunnel into which to disappear. The soft right hand took the wild animal and pointed it toward the freedom it sought and when it started into the tunnel, it was further helped by Louise lifting her hips and sucking the wild animal inside causing it to throb and jerk even more.



It seemed to calm itself as it was buried in the soft, receptive flesh. Neither of us moved; content to lie there and savor the sensation of the union. Then, together, we moved; I would lift my hips and she would push her own down into the mattress and we moved apart until my dick was almost completely out of her. Then, again, together, we slammed into each other until my dick bottomed itself in her pussy. Then we did it again. And again. A little faster now. Faster still. Withdraw then plunge. Hard flesh pounding into soft, willing, and receptive flesh. Harder now. Faster now. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.



I felt my dick getting even bigger until, at last, it exploded spilling its load and coating the inside of Louise's pussy.



Exhausted and still on top of her, I turned my head and lay it beside hers. Both of us were breathing softly together and the smell of her hair filled the air around my head. It was the most peaceful moment I can remember. We stayed that way for a long time. She was the first to speak.



"Rose said you were good in bed." She giggled.



"Rose told you that?"



"Yes. She and I have no secrets."



"It isn't that I'm good. I was like a dying man fighting for just a bit more life." I grinned. I was still on top of her and now my soft dick was sliding out of her. She grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to her trying to keep me in her. 



"Fuck me, Jerry. Just fuck me."



I did. Long into the night it was fuck, then short nap; fuck, then a short nap. It was five in the morning when I glanced at my bedside clock and jumped up. "Holy shit. I have a meeting at seven."



"Me, too." The beautiful woman under me said. "But we have time for one more. Don't you think?" She pushed me off her and started kissing me down my chest and stomach to my dick. A dick I never thought would be hard again. But I had never reckoned with someone like Louise. Madge, in all honesty was pretty good in bed; but Wanda and Rose put her to shame. Now along comes Louise who must have written the book on love, seduction, and sex. 



Her lips reached the tip of my tired and worn out dick and something happened. 



There were times when I was running for the Army Physical Training Test that I thought I couldn't run another step; then for some reason I felt a whole new burst of energy. I believe professional athletes call that 'getting their second wind'. 



When her lips touched my dick, it got its 'second wind'. It was like magic. My dick got hard and we were fucking again. 



She had to go home to get ready for work, but we took the time to shower together at my place before she left.



In the United States Army, a Major being late for a meeting of virtually the entire Army General staff, is suicide. I couldn't imagine what would happen to me if I missed it, so I absolutely busted my ass to get there. I made it to my office, retrieved the files necessary for the meeting and ran for the conference room. The gatekeeper was just closing the door and I pushed it open almost knocking him down in the process. He looked at me. "Another five seconds and you would have been toast, Major." He said as he smiled.



I smiled back. "Don't I know it." The meeting lasted almost three hours and I think I dozed off a couple of times. When it was over and I was back in my office and my cell phone rang. It was Rose.



"Hello."



"Hello, yourself." She returned with a smirk I could almost see through the phone. "Enjoy yourself last night."



"Last night?" Not really. I had to get ready for a meeting this morning so I read most of the night."



She laughed out loud. "You lying shit. You spent the night in bed with Louise. She couldn't wait to tell me."



"Are there no secrets left in the world?" I laughed.



"Not in our little world. Roy and I are giving a dinner party tomorrow night and we would like for you and Louise to be there. How about it?"



"When did this come up?" The last you knew, she and I hated each other."



"God, you're stupid. How did you ever make Major. I've known about the two of you since that first hotdog."



I laughed. "Okay, smart ass. Should I ask her about tomorrow, or are you going to?"



"She has already accepted for both of you. I just called you as a courtesy. She has all the details. See you tomorrow."



I immediately called Louise. "Is it going to be like this all the time?"



"God, I hope so. It was fantastic."



"Not last night. I just talked to Rose."



"Oh. That. I thought we might be able to take turns making decisions for both of us." There was a slight pause. "Unless of course, you don't want us to be together long enough to ..."



I interrupted her. "Christ, and Rose said I was stupid."



"Does that mean we're going to their dinner party?"



"Of course we are, goose."



The next year we spent lots of time with Rose and Roy. Roy invited me to join a little poker group he and a few other politicians had going. Being the only military person in the group, I, of course, was the brunt of most of their jokes; but I could play better than most of them so I took the jokes and their money.



Almost a year and a half after I met Louise, she was the maid of honor at Rose and Roy's wedding. Rose returned the favor several months after that and was Louise's Matron of Honor at our wedding.



The four of us still spend a lot of time together and Roy is considering running for elected office on his own and has asked if I might consider being his military advisor in the event he wins.



Things are looking pretty good and I am very happy with my life. Occasionally, however, there is one question which keeps nagging away at me. 



Who helped Madge start her car when she went back to the Pennsylvania house; assuming she had been gone long enough for its battery to die?

