TITLE    : I Hope You Fuck Better Than You Lie
STORYID  : i-hope-you-fuck-better-than-you-lie
SUMMARY  : You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you.
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2020-11-19
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |cheating wife|cheating wives|


<em>Thank you, H, for your help with this story.</em>



<strong>I hope you fuck better than you lie</strong> ... You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?



There are lots of people who think, or even dream, about owning their own island someplace. Most of those dreams seem to center on the warm water in the Caribbean, or South Pacific.



Gananoque is a small city on the St. Lawrence River in Ontario, Canada. It is in what is called "The Thousand Islands" area. Lots of people, both Canadian and American, live on those habitable islands in the region. Not that some of these islands don't compare to the ones in the Caribbean or South Pacific because some of them have real, honest to goodness castles on them. Dollar for dollar, the Thousand Islands can compete with any other islands in the world; they're just in the St. Lawrence River and not in the tropics.



The most popular story about the thousand islands involves the salad dressing of the same name. It seems that a housewife in the region developed the condiment. It was later given to the proprietor of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel who had it put on the hotel's menu way back around 1890. There is no written proof that the story is correct, however.



I drove a truck for a living. We delivered to the forty-eight contiguous states and Canada. I drove for a medium sized company of about 100 trucks. All of the drivers had the option of either driving long haul, regional, or local. Whenever any of us went out for a long haul of a week or longer, we had the choice of staying local for a week so we could spend time with our families or we could go back taking long hauls. We could also take our wives with us on the road occasionally. Most trucking companies that cover the whole country and Canada leave their drivers on the road for weeks at a time.



There are several jobs that are hard on families. The military is probably the worst followed closely by trucking and law enforcement.



I worked in construction during my summers through high school so it was a logical step when I started working in it full time after I graduated. By the time I was 23, I was a pretty decent carpenter. When I was 19, I met an office clerk in a commercial bakery. Her name was Julie Simpson. My name is Scott. Scott Mann. Julie and I married when we were 21. We were both happy until the construction industry went bust.



Julie and I talked and decided I should try driving a truck. They made decent money, and the biggest downside was the time they had to spend away from home.



The company I drove for advertised they would pay your way through truck driving school if you worked for them for a year after you got your license. Julie and I discussed it and decided we'd go for it.



They accepted me and I started school. Three weeks later I had my Class A CDL. The following week I was put in a truck with a driver trainer. He was an experienced driver who took guys like me on the road to really teach us how to drive. It was one thing to drive a tractor pulling an empty trailer, but something completely different when you hooked that tractor to a loaded trailer, and you went from weighing 35 thousand pounds to eighty thousand.



I was scheduled to spend five weeks with my trainer, but he convinced the safety department that I was good enough to have my own truck at four weeks.



I would drive over the road for a week, then drive local for a week. It worked fine. I had arranged for Julie to go in to the office on Friday and pick up my paycheck. That worked out pretty well also. We could have our checks direct deposited, but Julie enjoyed getting it herself.



I had been with the company for about nine months and was just finishing my week of driving local. My dispatcher, Shirley, called me in and offered me a pretty good deal. We had a load going to Vancouver, Canada and a back haul to Montreal. Only it wasn't really to Montreal. It was to Gananoque.



The owner of the company recently bought one of the thousand islands. He was incredibly young to own a trucking company. He couldn't have been much more than six or seven years older than me. The island, Shirley told me, had two houses; the main house and a guest house. The owner and his wife wanted to furnish the main house with handmade furniture from Vancouver Island. The guest house came furnished.



My job, if I wanted it, was to take a load to Vancouver then backhaul the boss's furniture. It wasn't expected to be ready for another month but it would be ready by the time I got there so the Operations Department of the company decided to surprise the boss and have it delivered early.



"Now the deal is this. You can't tell anyone. Not even your wife. I'm not saying she would say anything, but she comes in for your paychecks and she might say something to the wrong person. The boss and his wife will be there the weekend after next. That should be about the time you get there assuming you get to Vancouver and they get you loaded to come back. Does that sound like something you would be interested in?"



Before I could answer she jumped in.



"Remember, if you take it or not, you can't say anything to anyone. Promise?"



"I'll take it and promise not to tell anyone."



"Good. Good. Now because you took it, and because I like you, did you see that brand new Peterbilt sitting in the yard?"



"I certainly did."



"Well, it's yours. Put your gear in it. The load you're taking is on trailer 2353, you can leave in the morning. Call me when you get to Vancouver and be safe."



I went home and told Julie that I had a trip to the west coast. She didn't mind because the money was good, but we both were going to dislike my being gone for almost two weeks.



To make up for it, we tried our best to fuck our brains out. Fucking Julie was always special. She was up for anything except anal. Neither of us cared for that, but we both really loved fucking. Right after I started driving a truck, we took some nude pictures of her for me to take in the truck with me.



I had been to Canada in my truck four times. Each time, the truck was searched, and I mean searched. The only place they didn't search was the pouch hanging off my seat the first time I went across the border, and her pictures were in that pouch. I left the pictures at home after that when I knew I was going to Canada. The other times I went, they never missed the pouch or any other part of my truck including under the mattress in the sleeper berth. I left the pictures home that trip.



The drive out was easy. Crossing the border was standard. The Canadian officials, as always, were nice, but absolutely thorough when they searched. I called Shirley. She told me the boss's furniture was ready to be picked up. They had brought it over from the island earlier that day in preparation for my being there.



When I got to my customer, it only took an hour to unload me and another hour to get to where I was going to be loaded. Loading the trailer took considerably longer than an hour because they loaded each piece individually then wrapped and secured it. My truck was fully loaded when I headed back east. I dropped back down into the States and headed east across Interstate 90. I went back into Canada at Detroit.



It was about a nine hour shot from Detroit to Montreal. I drove to Kingston and parked for the night and called Shirley. She told me that the boss was at the island and she had a barge already set up. I was to go to the commercial loading dock as soon as I could get there in the morning and they would unload me and take the furniture to the island.



I was there at six and it took until almost ten to load the barge. After the barge was loaded we took off. It took about 45 minutes to get to the island. It was a straight shot, but the barge had to go slow. I went to the guest house to surprise the boss. The island was covered with trees. I only knew my way to the housing compound because of the path. There was a small patio attached to what I assumed was the guest house. Not too far from the guest house was the main house. It looked huge. I saw the boss on the guest house patio. I walked up and he was rubbing something on the naked chest of a woman who was lying on a lounge chair. I assumed it was sunscreen he was applying and I further assumed the woman was his wife. As I got closer I could see that it could have been sunscreen but it wasn't his wife. It was mine. She was naked. I watched as one of his hands went from her chest to her pussy and seemed to disappear to his elbow.



I walked up to them and cleared my throat. They both jumped and turned to me. It took them a second or two to realize they had been caught, and by whom.



I looked at him. "They're bringing your new furniture up from the dock." Then to my wife. "You might consider putting on some clothes before they get here."



I turned and headed back toward the dock.



I didn't hear a single word from either of them.



I passed some laborers bringing up the first of the furniture. I made it to the dock before remembering I was on a fucking island. I looked around and saw four boats tied up. We heard that the island came with some boats so I assumed they were all his. I had never driven a boat, but that was going to change. I had watched enough TV and movies to know that boats had a throttle. Push forward and you go forward. Pull back and the boat goes in reverse. I also knew that boats didn't have a brake pedal but I'd figure that out later. I looked in the smallest boat but there was no key in the ignition. There was a board on a wall with what looked like boat keys with rubber balls attached so they wouldn't sink if they fell into the water. I grabbed all of the keys and jumped in the boat. The key that fit it was the second one I tried. I tossed the rest in the river rubber balls or no rubber balls. The engine started immediately, but the boat was still tied up. I jumped out, untied front and back, jumped back in the boat and pulled back on the throttle. The boat launched rearward and left the dock pretty fast. As soon as I was clear of the dock, I jammed the throttle forward and got thrown back in my seat.



The trip back to town only took about 15 minutes. I approached the city dock way too fast and did some damage to the boat as I hit the dock. The engine was still running as I jumped out. There was a lot of attention being paid to the boat as I climbed in the truck, threw my stuff together, got out, and headed for town. I looked back and saw the boat idling down the river with no one in it.



A taxi got me to Kingston and its' airport in pretty short order. The first plane out was leaving in less than an hour and it was going to New York City. I bought a ticket.



My phone had been ringing and I looked to see it was Julie. She left one message. "Call me, please."



I called Shirley. "Good morning, Scott. Did you make it?"



"How long, Shirley?"



"How long what?"



"How long has he been fucking my wife?"



"What are you talking .... On my God. She's there?"



"She's there all right. How long?"



"About three months. I'm sorry, Scott. His wife was supposed to be there, otherwise I never would have sent you."



"So you would have sent me someplace knowing the boss was fucking my wife. Who else knows, Shirley?"



"Only two of us. Joey and me."



"Thanks, Shirley. Thanks a lot."



"Wait, where are you? What are you going to do? Hold on, he's on the other line. I'll be right back."



"Fuck you." Now I knew why she didn't want me to tell Julie about the trip. She would have told Bradley and there would have been no surprise ... especially the one he just had.



It was a small airport and I could see everything and everyone coming and going. I kept looking for either her or him to come charging in, but they didn't.



The flight didn't take any time at all. We landed, I rented a car and drove the four hours home. She wasn't there.



I hadn't stopped thinking about what I was going to do the whole trip home.



My phone rang again and she left another message. "Scott, if you're home, I'm on my way. Please don't do anything until I get there and we can talk. We've never had sex, Scott. We just played a little. Please believe me."



Her nipples were hard as rocks and he had his hand up her pussy to his elbow and they never had sex??? Jesus Christ. She honestly couldn't think I was stupid enough to believe that. Could she?



At our apartment, I loaded my pickup with everything I wanted and I went to the terminal and calmly walked into operations. Both Shirley and Joey were there. After they saw it was me, neither of them looked at me.



"How much money do you owe me, Shirley?"



"Scott, I."



"Cut me a check for everything the company owes me. Now."



"I'm sorry, Scott. Mr. Bradley said to not give you anything until he talks to you."



"Shirley, you owe me. Big time."



"He said you wrecked one of his boats."



"What else did he say? Did he brag about fucking my wife behind my back? Have the four of you had big laughs at my expense? Did Julie come in here and tell you to keep me out on the road as much as you could so she could fuck Bradley? Cut my check, Shirley, and I won't destroy this whole fucking office." It only took her a couple of minutes to figure out how much I was owed and she called payroll and told them to cut me a check."



I walked out and went to payroll. They had it ready for me. I looked at it. "I changed my mind. Direct deposit it please."



"But Scott."



"Direct deposit. Now, please." I gave them my routing numbers and they did it. Bradley couldn't stop payment on a direct deposit. Then I went to Bradley's house. We had been there once for a picnic. My wife had probably been there for more than picnics. Mrs. Bradley opened the door. She looked and acted like she was sick. "What can I do for you?" she asked.



"My name is Scott Mann and I used to drive for your husband. I took a load of furniture to your island this morning and I discovered your husband massaging my wife's naked breasts with one hand while he was playing with her pussy with the other. I just thought you'd like to know. Have a nice day."



"Wait a minute, Mr... what did you say your name was?"



"Mann. Scott Mann."



"What's your wife's name?"



"Julie Mann."



"You saw it this morning?"



"With my own eyes."



"You're positive?"



"Christ, lady. Of course I'm positive. Do you think I'd make up something like that about my own wife?"



I walked to my truck and drove off not having any idea where I was going so I headed to my parents' place. It didn't take long to get them up to speed. Mom always had a pot of coffee ready and offered me a cup. I took it. Before long I was stretched out on the sofa. I closed my eyes. The next thing I knew I heard my father speaking.



"Julie, get off of my porch or I'm calling the police."



"But I need to talk to Scott."



"After what you've done to him?" Dad said. "Absolutely not."



"But he doesn't understand."



"Oh, I think he understands all too well. You've been sleeping with his boss for three months. What's so difficult about that?"



"But, he doesn't know why."



"Sure he does. You're a cheating bitch that's why. Now get off my porch."



She started yelling my name. "Scott, talk to me, please. Scott, give me a chance to explain, Scott. Scott?"



It had been a long day and I was soon back asleep.



I was awake early the next morning and went to my truck. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to go somewhere. I opened my door to get in and Julie was sleeping across the seat. She sat up when she heard the door open. I started to leave, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.



"Please, Scott. Listen to me. I had no choice."



"Don't give me that shit. You either spread your legs and fuck someone or you don't. Unless you were restrained and raped. Were you, Julie. Were you restrained and raped? Or drugged?"



"It wasn't like that."



"So you fucked him willingly." It was a statement not a question.



"Scott, just give me a chance."



"I repeat. You fucked him willingly."



"Okay, I fucked him, but ..."



"Besides that, you lied. 'We've never had sex. We just played a little.' Christ. Did you really expect me to believe that? Get out of my truck." She wouldn't budge so I took her arm and pulled her out. I was in it and gone before she could get her ass off the ground.



I drove to a fast food restaurant in town for breakfast. I ordered one of their breakfast items and went to piss while I waited.



I took my food to a table, sat, and ate. When I was finished, I went to the bank and divided our money. My phone rang repeatedly and several people left messages. My former employer, Ernest T. Bradley, left two.



"Call me and let's talk or I'm going to sue your ass for wrecking my boat and then you're going to jail for threatening my employees and don't think I won't do it." Was his first message. "Listen, I fucked your wife. Get over it. It happens every day. She's not the first wife I fucked and she won't be the last. Swallow your pride, take her back and fuck her silly. That's what she likes and wants so give it to her. If you don't, maybe I'll keep doing it. Now, get your ass back up here and get my truck home or I'll report you for stealing it. Besides, you have to drive for me for three more months to pay for your truck driving school." Was his second message.



God, what an asshole. So he was still in Canada. I called his wife to see if I could meet with her instead of just rushing to his house like I did before. She agreed, and I played his messages for her. She was sick before, but she felt worse after she heard him.



"I wasn't sure I believed you at first, but now I do. I'm going to burn his ass. May I have a copy of that message?" We made her a copy. "What are you going to do about your wife?" she asked.



"Divorce, of course. I just don't know how to go about it."



"It's easy," she said. "Find a good attorney and turn him loose."



It sounded so simple. I left her house and went back to my parents. They, also, asked me what I was going to do. I told them the same thing I told Mrs. Bradley. My father, in turn, told me word, for word, exactly what she told me. I was convinced, so I started looking for an attorney. Again, I had no idea where to start so I started with the "A's" in the phone book. I made it to the D's before I found my man. David Denison and I hit it off immediately. His family had all been truckers, himself included, until he flipped his rig and was paralyzed from the waist down. He completed law school in a wheel chair.



He was the only member of his family not in the trucking business, but they all knew Ernest T. Bradley, and respected him. Denison commented several times on Bradley's youth and business acumen. In fact, everyone who knew him respected him. He was huge in the community. He sponsored sports teams as well as art programs and donated to every charity that came down the pike.



Denison flat refused to believe me when I first told him what I had discovered in Canada. He was in Bradley's corner and I was almost ready to leave and find another attorney but decided to play the messages for him. He finally started to believe.



"Wow. This is going to shake up the community if it gets out. How do you want to handle it? As privately as possible, or do you want to make a big splash?"



"All I want is a divorce as cheaply as I can get it. It never has to reach the newspaper as far as I'm concerned, but the reason for the divorce will be adultery. If that means it gets splashed all over town, so be it, but there will be none of this mental cruelty or irreconcilable differences crap. She cheated and it goes on record.



"That could be difficult if this message is all you have. Courts almost demand visual proof nowadays, especially with a man of his stature."



"Well, let's give it a shot."

<hr pg="2" />"Okay. We'll have her served in the next few days. Do you have any idea where she'll be?"



"Either at work at the bakery, at home, or in Canada with him, I suppose."



"Well, we certainly can't serve her in Canada, so we'll try her at home or at work."



"Works for me. You can reach me on my cell or at my parents." I was tired of living with my parents so I spent the next few days looking for my own apartment. I found one that wasn't the fanciest or best in town, but it was mine.



A week later Julie was served at work.



My father owned a small welding shop. I had never shown either interest or aptitude for welding, but that started to change. He convinced me to go to work with him just to get me out of my apartment. Both he and my mother thought I was spending way too much time cooped up. I had considered going to work for another trucking company, but never built much enthusiasm for it; or anything else as far as that goes, so I went to the welding shop. My father had a pickup truck with portable welding equipment on it and mostly all he did was repair things. Occasionally a customer would ask for a specialty item and my father would make it.



Julie tried several times to talk to me, but after she was served, everything went through our attorneys. Our first meeting took place about a month after she was served. Her attorney, of course, tried to get the adultery dropped. I absolutely refused. Bradley was named in the application for divorce and Julie was desperate to not have his name appear anywhere near a divorce action for adultery.



"It could ruin his reputation in the community. He doesn't deserve that." She argued.



I exploded. "Are you serious? He's a wife stealing slimeball and the community should be told about him."



Julie jumped in with, "if you had treated your wife better she wouldn't have been able to be stolen."



That started an argument between us that could only be stopped by putting us in separate rooms. After we cooled down, and were in the same room again, she, again, tried to get me to remove his name.



"I'm not going to do it so forget it. Why are trying so hard to protect him? Do you plan on marrying him? Are you still fucking him?"



"For your information he and I are still seeing each other, so yes, I'm still fucking him."



Her attorney just lay his head on the table and groaned, and without raising it, spoke. "You just admitted in front of your husband and two officers of the court that you committed adultery. That's probably the worst thing you could have done."



"At this point, I don't care," she said. Then to me. "In answer to your other question, yes I am going to marry him. Just as soon as he gets divorced."



"So you think he loves you?" I asked.



"Of course."



I put my phone on the table and played his message to me.



"He didn't mean that. He was just pissing you off."



I laughed as Mr. Denison took the envelope out of his briefcase and slid it across the table to Julie. Her attorney intercepted it, opened it, and took out the contents. He read the note attached then looked through the photos one by one. He gave the package to Julie. She looked through the pictures first, then read the note.



"Mr. Mann, these may help in you divorce. The first five were taken at the island three weeks ago. The woman is the wife of his barber. She left her husband to spend the weekend with my husband. The next six were taken at our house last week. I was out of town with my parents. This woman is someone he picked up in a bar. I have no idea if she is married nor do I care. I don't know her name and I doubt that my husband knows, either. She was just another piece of ass; just like your wife." It was signed Cynthia. All of the pictures showed Bradley and the two women either in various stages of undress or in various sexual positions. There was no doubt they were fucking.



Julie slid the photos back across the table, stood, and walked out of the room. I never saw her again until we went to court. We divided everything. She got half of our money, her jewelry, china, silverware, and her clothes. She stayed in our apartment.



Bradley's fall from grace was very quick in the community. His reputation was destroyed and the three sports teams he sponsored deactivated their teams. Cynthia got half of every asset they had, which meant she owned half of the trucking company and their house. He got the island in Canada only because she didn't want it. He sent a bill for the truck driving school to my attorney, accusing me of terminating my employment before completing the terms of our contract. Mr. Denison promptly sent him a letter telling him to kiss our collective asses.



Cynthia called to tell me to ignore the letter and ask me if I was interested in going back to work as the operations manager of the trucking company. I was tempted, but turned her down.



Over the next year or so I found that if I put my mind to it, I could run a pretty nice bead of metal thanks to my father's patience and teaching ability. I also realized that I enjoyed doing it.



I dated but never developed any long-term meaningful relationship, but by the same token, I rarely wanted for pussy because there was lots of it around and available. Once or twice I saw Julie and we always acknowledged each other.



Bradley's trucking business was sold and I never saw Cynthia again, but I did see Bradley occasionally. I knew him, but I'm sure he wouldn't know me from the man in the moon. When I drove for him, I was one of a hundred drivers and he only saw us occasionally.



While learning to weld, I found that I liked working with metal, so in addition to repairing things in the shop and using the truck to repair things onsite, I started making small things like weather vanes, small custom gate hinges, and mail box support stands.



My father and I rarely worked on weekends, but I found myself one Sunday afternoon working on a rather ornate weathervane. I was having trouble with its' proportions so I stared at it hoping a solution would magically appear. I never heard the door open or close, but I felt a presence so I looked up. It was Julie. Neither of us said anything. She stood for a couple of minutes before pulling up a metal stool and sitting.



"Can we talk?" she asked.



"I've got nothing to say."



"Okay. Just listen." She leaned forward. "I don't have a good reason for doing what I did. We, you and I, had a good life. We had enough money, a nice apartment, we loved each other; at least I think we did. So why, all of a sudden, did I decide to sleep with Bradley? The answer is both simple and complicated. I could try to blame you and say you were gone too much, because that's one of the lines he fed me and after a while, I believed it. He also said you weren't treating me right when you were home and after a while, I believed that as well. He said that virtually every truck driver found someone to screw while they were on the road, and after a while, in my mind's eye I could see you fucking some truckstop waitress, or woman truck driver. He also said that truck drivers never made enough money to treat their women the right way, and after a while, I was convinced of that. He was, and probably still is, a smooth talking son of a bitch and I was just as gullible as he was smooth.



"It didn't happen overnight. He worked on me for months. Then Shirley started working on me, telling me how well Bradley could treat me if I let him. She told me she could control your movements so I'd never have to worry about you finding out. She also told me that Mrs. Bradley had told her that she didn't need sex as often as her husband, so she allowed him to sleep with selected women because it made him a better husband for her. She told me that Mrs. Bradley had to approve the women he slept with and that she had approved me just from having seen me when I went to pick up your checks. Those lies sound silly now, but they didn't then. I know that now."



I sat there listening. When I thought she had wound down, I spoke. "Why are you telling me all this now?"



"I don't know. I don't think I ever wanted to tell you at all. Not the truth, anyway. I didn't want you to know how stupid I was. I always thought I'd devise a story that made it all your fault, and I came up with some lulus, but I could never tell you any of them. This afternoon as I drove past your shop, I saw you in here and stopped. I had no idea what I was going to say, only that I was going to say something, if you would let me, but what I said happens to be the truth."



"What did you expect to get out of it?"



"Only that you knew that none of it was your fault. That it was all my own selfish desires and fictional situations he created for me. I also wanted you to know that believe it or not, I never stopped loving you."



"That's where I think you're lying. I don't think you can truly love someone and lie to them or cheat on them. You did both. You even wanted to marry him, if I remember correctly. Are you still fucking him?"



"I can't explain it any better than I already have, and I can't make you believe me, so I won't even try, and no, I'm not seeing him. Not since that day in the attorney's office and I saw those pictures." She sat there for another few minutes watching me work. "I suppose I'd better go." She stood. "Scott?" I looked at her. "Is there any way you can forgive me enough to give me another chance?"



I shook my head. "When I saw him fondling your breasts and running his hand inside you, it was over. You know your way out."



After she left, I didn't accomplish much except to re-affirm my opinion that my former boss was a Grade-A asshole, and my ex-wife was dumber than a box of rocks. I wondered what would have happened had I not gone to that island to surprise my boss. Would I still be driving a truck and getting sloppy seconds? I determined I was happier making weathervanes and going broke.



One day in the mail we received a flyer for a Renaissance Festival. I'd never heard of a Renaissance Festival. It showed pictures of people jousting and knights walking around in armor. There photos of vendors selling armor, swords, knives, costumes, and everything you would associate with the Renaissance period. It was to be right down the highway in Maryland and I learned from that flyer that Maryland had two state sports; Jousting and Lacrosse. I didn't believe any state had Jousting as its' official sport, so I looked it up and found that it was true.



I decided to go. I spent a full day there and spent most of the time looking at the vendor's wares and watching the attendees. There was a lot of money roaming around those festival grounds and I realized that I could get my share of it. There were several sword and knife makers on site as well as armorers. I liked the suits of armor and shields. I went home, did a lot of research and designed my first shield and sword. I also looked online for a schedule of Renaissance Festivals.



I made five shields and seven swords and took them to the next nearest festival I could find. I learned there were many of them and they were all over the country. I got there a day early so I could talk to some of the vendors. I met one vendor who sold what I thought was the highest quality swords and knives there. I offered him a deal. I would leave what I had to see if it would sell and he would get a commission. He hesitated, but agreed. I was going to spend the night, but no rooms were available anywhere near the festival; a sign of how popular they were, so I drove home. I rarely trusted strangers, but I had no way of selling them myself.



The vendor, Teddy Wycoff, called me Sunday morning to tell me all of my stuff was gone. He would send me a check.



I had a new business.



The next weeks found me making more festival stuff. Teddy wanted ten swords and ten shields for the next festival which was the following week. I managed to have four of each ready.



In the meantime, I was still helping my father with his business. We received a call asking us to repair a driveway gate. It seemed the daughter's date drove into the gates instead of waiting for them to open. Alcohol was involved I was told. I went out and it was a huge gate on a circular driveway. The house behind the gate was enormous. I met the owner, Mr. James Jameson. At first I started to refuse the job because I thought it was too big for us. Those gates were almost ten feet tall.



I decided to give it a try. All it would cost us was some time and a little metal if I screwed it up. I spent a good part of the day trying to figure out what tools I would need then went back to the shop to see what we had that I could use. I found a couple of come-alongs I thought might work, so I headed back the next day. I had been working about two hours and was actually making some progress when a woman about my age brought me some iced tea. Her name was Hannah and she lived there. It was her date who caused the damage. I had my own refreshments, but she came out three times with iced tea and stayed to talk each time.



It took two days of bending, twisting, straightening, and welding, but I fixed the gate. Hannah was there the second day with drinks and a sense of humor. I enjoyed her company.



About the same time, I had taken an interest in suits of armor. They seemed to be popular at the festivals and I was curious as to how to make them, how long it would take, how much it cost to build one, and, finally, could we make a profit from them.



I was dating a woman I met at the library while I was conducting research. We dated at least twice a week and fucked each time we were together. That relationship, like the others I'd had, kinda petered out after a few weeks, however.



In the Mall was a movie theatre. I rarely went to the movies, but one Friday evening, I was so bored, I went. Before the lights went out, Hannah came in with a guy. They sat directly in front of me and his arm immediately went around her. Less than five minutes after the lights went out and the previews of upcoming movies were on, I heard Hannah.



"If you touch me there again, I'll cut your balls off."



His arm came from around her shoulder. She left in a huff followed by her date pleading for her to come back.



I followed them out. I'll give it to her, she didn't take any shit from him. I wasn't close enough to hear, but they were having words. I decided to intervene; something I'd never done before.



"Excuse me, Hannah. Are you okay?"



She looked at me. It took her a couple of seconds to recognize me. "No, I'm not. This asshole has more arms than an octopus and I'm tired of fending him off. Would you mind taking me home?"



"Not at all."



We started walking to my truck when another guy came up to us.



"Are you okay, Hannah?" he asked.



"I am now."



"Would you like me to take you home?" he asked.



She didn't even look at me before she said yes. They headed for his car without so much as a how-do-you-do to me; like I wasn't even there. I stood and watched them walk away. I shook my head and went home.



I was at her house several days later. There were some railings along the walkway between the house and the swimming pool that needed some attention, so Mr. Jameson asked me back. Hannah saw me and came to say hello, but never mentioned the movie incident. I was a bit peeved at having been completely ignored at the movies and wasn't in the mood to chat. She took the hint and left.



I was back the next day with some replacement parts. It was a basic, off the shelf railing so parts were readily available. She was on her way to the pool and stopped to chat. I basically ignored her. I had enjoyed our chats when I was working on the gates, but since the theatre incident ... not so much.



"Are you mad at me?" she asked.



"Do you remember last week at the theatre?" I asked.



"You mean when I was with the octopus?"



"Yes."



"What about it?"



"You asked me to bring you home. Do you remember that?"



"Of course."



"What happened after that?"



"Nothing. Jimmy showed up and brought me home."



"And you saw nothing wrong with that?"



"No. Was there?"



"Not if you didn't see anything I suppose." I picked up a hammer and started hitting metal just to make noise figuring she would go away.



"That doesn't make sense."



"I think it does."



She was getting impatient. "I don't see how."



I looked her square in the eye. "That's the problem." I started hitting metal again. She took the hint and left. It took the rest of the day to finish the railing.



My interest in suits of armor increased and I did a lot of research on how they were made. I built my first suit and was pretty proud of it. I sent a picture of it to Teddy to see what he thought.



"Stick to shields and swords," he said as he laughed. "You're good at those. The armor needs a lot of work before anyone would buy it.



I was in a local bar having a beer and watching a baseball game just a few days later when Hannah sat next to me. I'm meeting friends for drinks. Would you like to join us?" she asked.



"No thank you. I'm fine where I am."



She stood and started to leave but hesitated. She looked at me. "Are you ever going to tell me what I did to piss you off?"



"If I have to tell you, more's the pity. Enjoy your drinks."



I was almost finished with my beer and was getting ready to leave when she came back.



"Oh my God, Scott. I didn't mean to ignore you. That octopus had me so pissed I didn't know what I was doing. Please accept my apology." I assumed she said something at her table about our conversation and someone set her straight.



"Apology accepted."



She smiled. "Now will you join us?" She paused. "Please? Just for a drink. I owe you at least that."



I smiled back. "I will. Thank you." They were all drinking and it turned out to be a fun evening. Two of them, I don't remember their names, reminded Hannah over the course of the evening about her manners. I started feeling sorry for her.



The group broke up and we were all leaving. I walked out with Jeannie. I sat next to her at the table. I had asked her about Hannah and she was telling me they had been friends for a long time. "Listen, Scott, I'm not her best friend, but I'm close. There's something about you she likes. She's sorry she treated you like she did, she told me. Hell, she told the whole table, and she told you. You have to give her credit for that. Call her. Do you have her number?"



"No."



"Give me your phone." I did and she put Hannah's number in it. "Call her."



I was working in the shop one morning the following week when Hannah came in. I supposed she got the address from her father.



"Did you have fun the other night?"



"I did. I like your friends."



"That's good, but what about me?"



"What about you?"



"Do you like me? I apologized if you'll remember."



"I remember."



"Then why aren't we friends?" she asked.



I smiled. "I think we're working on it. An apology does not mean automatic friendship. It just means that you understand that you made a mistake, and regret having done whatever it is you did, so you apologize. That person can accept your apology or not. I accepted it but that doesn't mean we are going to be BFF's. It just means I recognize that you understand what you did and regret it ... assuming the apology was sincere."



"It was sincere."



"I agree."



"Good. Then let's go out for dinner." I laughed. "Why not?" she asked. "It will be a good way to work on developing our friendship."



"Okay. When?"



"Why not tonight?"



And so it was. Hannah and I had dinner and our friendship grew. We dated for two months before I saw her naked, but that was only the beginning. She was a natural born fuck machine.



I found out one night during "pillow talk" that she had been married for a short time. She shocked me, however, when she told me John Jameson was not her real father. He and her mother had only been married seven years. She had an older brother and their father had died. Two years later their mother married Jameson. Their father had a trucking company and her brother, Ernest, wanted to take it over and run it. He was six years older than Hannah and most people thought he was too young, but Hannah and her mother agreed to let him try. He showed a real aptitude and the company thrived.

<hr pg="3" />I got out of bed, got us both a drink, and got back in bed.



"Tell me about your brother," I said.



"I've already told you most of it, the important parts, anyway. The bottom line is that the trucking company kept doing well; so well, in fact that he and my ex sister-in-law bought an island in Canada. Then some bitch got her fangs into him and he ended up getting divorced and selling the company. Apparently, the bitch's husband started driving for him and thought they could make some money off my poor brother. The wife wormed her way into the picture, and seduced him. They arranged it so he would catch his wife and my brother together at his island. My sister-in-law divorced my brother, took half of the company, then they were forced to sell it. What a pair of fucking thieves."



I finished my drink in one swallow. "How much did they extort from him?" I asked.



"My brother never told me, but they had to get something."



"Do you know their names?"



"I did, but not anymore."



I decided to tell her what really happened, but I figured it would be the end of our relationship so I decided to knock off my last piece of her ass. I put down my glass, took hers and put it down as well. Then I started kissing her and worked down to her breasts. I knew when I put my mouth on either of them, I was going to fuck her. I sucked as much of one in my mouth as I could, then did the same to the other one. Her hips started bouncing and she started moaning. "Fuck me while you do that, please."



I rolled over on top of her, and lifted my hips. She literally grabbed my dick and pointed it at her pussy. We both moved at the same time. Me down and her up and my dick hit bottom and she squealed. Not once. Not twice. But it was a constant squeal unlike anything I had ever heard. The harder I fucked, the louder the squeal. I pounded as hard as I could almost trying to see if I could get her to tell me to stop, but she just squealed louder, and her hips moved faster.



"Motherfucker! How can anything feel so motherfucking good." She almost yelled. "Don't fucking stop. Pound it. Pound it harder, motherfucker. Make me come. I can squirt if you keep pounding. Pound that pussy. Make me squirt, you bastard, make me squirt."



It took a long time of pounding, but she squirted. After she did, she immediately rolled me off of her and pounced, and I mean literally pounced on my dick with her mouth. I never had a chance to get soft because her mouth sucked so hard, I got hard immediately and stayed hard until I blasted another load.



After we calmed down, I almost talked myself out of telling her who I was because I had never had a better sex session than what I had just experienced. I knew that once I told her the truth, my ass was toast.



We were at her house and I was going home anyway, so I got dressed. I was sitting on the edge of her bed putting on my socks and shoes. It was time, so I started. "Let's revisit the story of your brother's divorce. Was what you told me the official story or his version?"



"He told me so it was the official version. Why?"



"Because that wasn't the way it happened at all?"



"What do you mean?"



So I told her the real story. About half way through it, she jumped out of bed still naked and just stared. I ended with saying the only thing Julie and I got out of it was a divorce; not extortion money. When I was finished, all she said was. "You're lying. Get out."



"I'm not lying. It's the truth."



She threw a pillow at me. "You're lying. Get out and stay out." With that I made my way out. I hated it ending like that, but I loved that last fuck.



Life went on. I had another social dry spell and couldn't seem to find my way out of the pussy slump I was in.



I felt like splurging one evening so was having dinner in a very nice restaurant. I had finished my entrée, had my napkin to my mouth, and was looking around. Several tables over from me sat Hannah and her brother. On their table was a small cake with some candles on it. I signaled my waiter I was ready for my check. He brought it, and I paid. I stood and went directly to Hannah's table and sat. They both looked at me like I was an alien. Her brother spoke first. "Are you sure you're at the right table?" He asked obviously not remembering me.



"I am indeed, and I think you should tell your sister the truth about your divorce."



"She knows about it. Who the hell are you?"



"But it's obvious she doesn't know the truth, so you need to tell her the true version."



"Fuck you."



"Scott, what are you doing?" She almost screamed. "Get out of here."



A waiter magically, appeared. "Is there a problem here?" he asked.



"This guy," Hannah said indicating me, "Sat here uninvited and threatened my brother. I want him out of here."



"Of course. Sir, I have to ask you to leave."



I looked at Bradley, first. "You're a real slimeball." Then I looked at Hannah. "I don't know why you've never talked to his ex-wife, but check with the courthouse and look at the record of my divorce. Then you'll know the truth."



"Just get out of here," she said.



I left and assumed it was the last time I would see her. I worked in my shop on designs of my latest interests; axes and chainmail. I was almost too busy to see her anyway.



There was a festival scheduled over the next weekend. I took some shields as well as samples of my axes and chainmail to show Teddy. He had gotten me a vendor's pass so I drove through the entrance. When I got there, he was talking to a young lady dressed in period costume. The costume was a long flowing dress with a bodice cut so low it barely covered her nipples. I stood and waited while they talked. He looked in my direction and recognized me and motioned me over.



"Diane, this is Scott. Scott, Diane." He spoke to her. "Scott is the designer and builder of some of our stuff and I understand he may have some new things for us. Is that right, Scott?"



I laughed. "That I do." I took some of the new items out of my truck. Both he and Diane fawned over it like it was treasure. I couldn't take my eyes off of her bodice. Every time she leaned forward, I leaned with her hoping to see more, but it was too tight to allow me a better view. I spent a long time with them and even ate dinner with them. Dinner was meat pies and iced tea from another vendor. I wanted to ask about their relationship, but there never seemed to be a good time to pose the question.



There were lots of others walking around renewing friendships and contacts from other festivals. At least half of the people wore period costumes. Some of the men feigned sword fights for their own entertainment. Those fights served as rehearsals for the fights in front of the attendees starting the next day. I don't remember seeing so many people having so much fun. Teddy had a tent in an area reserved for vendors and re-enactors so I bunked in with him for the night. When things settled down, I asked him about Diane.



"She and her sister are the organizers of this particular festival as well as a lot of others across the country. Everybody loves to see her coming. She and I have been friends for years. As a matter of fact, if you weren't here tonight, she would be."



"Oh, shit. Why didn't you say something? I would have gone to a motel."



"No you wouldn't. Even if I let you, there isn't a room available for fifty miles.



When the attendees started arriving the next day; the re-enactors had even more fun interacting with them, and Diane was a huge hit as she always was I was told over and over.



I spent the whole weekend with Teddy. Several times I took over his stall while he and Diane went to his tent. I had lots of time to talk to other vendors and attendees. We sold everything of mine Teddy had in stock plus what I brought with me. It was a profitable weekend. I made up my mind to go to more festivals.



The festival ended on Sunday. I helped Teddy breakdown his stall and pack everything away. Home was an eight hour drive so he convinced me to stay another night. Their next festival was an 18 hour drive away. They could start setting up on Wednesday for a Thursday opening. I didn't think I would have enough time to make chain mail, but I told him I would try.



When I got home, I went straight to the shop and started working. It was late when I started yawning and realized I was tired. I hadn't slept very much over the weekend. The clock said it was almost two in the morning when I left.



It was just before three when I got home. My doorbell rang not five minutes later. I opened the door and Hannah literally fell into my arms. She smelled of alcohol. Behind her stood two police officers.



"Are you Scott Mann?"



"I am."



"Does she belong to you?"



"I know her, but she doesn't belong to me."



"Are you sure? She insists you're her boyfriend."



"Not even close. The last time I saw her, she called me a liar and kicked me out of her house, so I promise you I am not her boyfriend." Which wasn't totally true. The last time I saw her was in the restaurant, but it wouldn't make any difference to them.



"Okay. Come on, Tommy, let's take her." Tommy was apparently his partner because he stepped forward and took one of her arms.



"Where are you taking her?" I asked.



"To spend the night in the drunk tank."



"No. Don't do that. I'll take care of her."



"Are you sure?"



"No. But I can't have her spending a night in jail." I left her dressed and put her on the only bed I had. Mine. I would sleep on the sofa, which was better than the air mattress in Teddy's tent, but I would have preferred my bed. Instead, a snoring, drunk woman was in it.



I was almost asleep when I heard the sounds of someone being sick. I jumped up, and ran to my bedroom. It was too late for the trash bin because it was all over my floor. She looked up at me, then felt the urge to finish tossing her cookies and did so.



It only took me about two seconds to decide what to do. I walked out of the room and closed the door. I went to sleep on my sofa with a smile on my face. I woke up the next morning, opened my bedroom door, and almost passed out from the smell. There was no way I was going to shower, shave, and get dressed in that God-awful smelling room so I went to work.



I never heard from her all day and fully expected for her to still be asleep when I got home. I was wrong. She was gone and the place was spotless. There wasn't even a residual smell of vomit. I headed immediately for the shower. I looked for a note or something, but there was nothing. When I went to bed that night, I discovered that she had even changed the sheets. I only had one set so she had to have laundered them; probably at the same time she did her clothing.



I worked my ass off, but couldn't finish any new chain mail. Teddy stopped by and picked up the few shields, swords, and axes I had stashed away. We discussed hiring a couple of people to help us, but we both realized metal workers were few and far between. Then we discussed training some, and that's what we decided to do. We put ads in the normal paper and in the festival newsletter.



It was a Friday night and I was at the shop working on inventing a machine that would make chain mail faster than I could do it. There were a couple available on the market, but I thought I could do it better.



It was late and I was tired when the knock came. It was a very sober Hannah. "Thank you for saving me from Jail." I stood there and nodded. "I tried to clean up after myself. Was it okay?" I nodded again. She fumbled for something to say as we both just stood there looking at each other.



"Look, it's been a long day and I have to get some sleep." I pushed past her out the door, closed and locked it, and headed for my car. "Good night." I was almost in my car when I heard. "You were right. My brother lied. I'm sorry."



I just waved over my shoulder got in my car and drove home.



Suits of armor kept me fascinated. After Teddy critiqued the first suit I made, I did lots of research and made another suit, which I used as a model for other suits. After making six more, I felt like I was ready to debut it. I took it to the next festival and Teddy loved it. We could have sold it several times over, but we wanted to use it as a sample of my work. People would look at it, comment, and if they wanted to buy one for themselves, we talked about any changes they would like to have with their order. My festival life was good; and profitable.



I bought a trailer and carried my tools and supplies so as I went from festival to festival, I would work on my products. Sometimes in the booth in front of the attendees, other times in the private vendor's area.



One evening between festivals, I was talking to my father and I expressed amazement at how renaissance metal products could be so successful. Who knew that there were so many people interested in, and who could afford, suits of armor? Those things weren't cheap.



The festival season was over and I had begun dating a girl I met at our local automobile dealership. I was considering getting a new truck. My father's welding truck was old so I thought we would put the welding equipment on my truck, sell his old one, and I might get a newer, larger one. She was getting her car serviced and I was admiring a new truck sitting outside the showroom. We struck up a conversation and ended up exchanging numbers. A week later we had our first date. Then our second. And so on.



I took her home one night and she invited me in. We were on our second drink, and I was sitting on her sofa. She stood in front of me and started unbuttoning her blouse. "Any objection to me getting comfortable?" she asked.



"Not if you don't object if I watch and enjoy myself," I answered.



She chuckled. "That's the whole point of the exercise. I get naked while you watch, then you get naked while I watch. Then I suck your dick for a long time, hoping you don't cum too quickly."



"Sounds like you have it all planned out."



"Oh, I do." Her blouse was off and her skirt was in the process of hitting the floor.



I reached for the waistband of her panties and she slapped my hands away. "Let me do it. You just watch and enjoy. You do enjoy watching a lady get naked don't you?"



"I don't know. I've never watched before."



She laughed deep in her throat. "I hope you fuck better than you lie." Her bra came off and landed on top of her skirt.



"And I hope it takes you as long to cum as it does to take your clothes off." I said.



"Oh, you won't be disappointed. I'll still be asking for dick when you're long finished."



The panties came down and I stood up.



"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"



"Oh, yeah," she said. "Now it's your turn."



I started unbuttoning my shirt.



"Slow down, tiger. We have all night. Let me enjoy watching."



I slowed down and she licked her lips.



I kicked my shoes off and unfastened my belt, unbuckled, and unzipped my pants. As I started sliding my pants down my legs, she put her hands on my hands and knelt down as she followed my pants to the floor. She stopped when she was on her knees. I looked down and her hands were resting on her thighs. She looked up at me.



"What's next? T-shirt or shorts?" she asked.



"Which do you prefer?"



"T-shirt. Save the best for last."



I took my t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor. She picked it up and put it to her nose.



"God, I love man smell," she said.



I reached for my shorts and the t-shirt got tossed aside. As soon as my shorts passed my dick, she reached for it.



"But I love this better." She said as she took it in her mouth. She nursed it then rubbed it all over her face, then she sucked on it, then she rubbed it all over her face again. She repeated it over and over, while I stood there looking down at her. "I want you to cum now," she said. My dick went back in her mouth and she started sucking, and licking, and bobbing her head back and forth as I moved my hips back and forth.



"Look at me." I told her. "Look in a man's eyes when you suck his dick."



Her eyes never left mine as she sucked harder and I pumped harder. I don't know who was happier when I blasted; her or me, but we both had big smiles on our faces.



She knelt there with my dick still in her mouth looking up at me with twinkling eyes and she let me slide out of her mouth. "God, I love doing that," she said.



"Better than fucking?" I asked.



She held my arms as she stood. "Nothing's better than fucking."



"Would you like to demonstrate?"



"I thought you'd never ask." She led me to her bedroom.



I left for my house about three in the morning. All the way home I was comparing her to Hannah and the last time she and I fucked, and couldn't decide who was better. That relationship lasted a good four months before we parted ways.



My phone reminded me that I had ignored it all evening and there were messages for me. Three from Hannah. "Scott, please call me when you get this. I don't care what time it is. Please."



I took her at her word. She answered after two rings. "Hello, Scott." She sounded a bit tipsy.



"Did I wake you?"



"I think I was dozing. I tried to stay awake waiting for you to call."



"Okay. I called. What's so important?"



"I wanted you to know that my brother lied about his divorce. You were right and I'm sorry."



"You've already apologized for that. Is there anything else?"



"Yes." There was a pause. "Can we see each other again? I miss you."



"Honestly? There's no way you and I can date. Knowing who your brother is and that he had an affair with my wife? If we got serious about each other we would inevitably run into him and I would always be uncomfortable. I'm not going to put myself through that."



I could tell she was crying. "I knew you were going to say that, but I hoped you wouldn't. Good bye, Scott."



The Renaissance Festivals were back in full swing. I made arrangements for my vendor passes, bought a tent and some camping equipment and took off. I helped Teddy in his booth most of the time. When I wasn't doing that I was working on making new things to sell. My armor had improved considerably and each festival we sold at least two suits.



Two days after we closed one festival, Teddy called and asked if I could work his booth for him at the next festival. I told him yes. He was close to the festival site so he dropped off his trailer with everything I would need. I loaded my truck full and left my trailer home. I took his trailer.



I worked three straight festivals and even made some shields while the attendees watched. I was also able to work on my chain mail machine and by the third festival I was demonstrating that as well.



The next festival I was going to attend was going to be near Philadelphia and was going to last 11 days. It was one of the biggest in the country. They usually lasted Thursday through Sunday, but that one started on Thursday, went through that weekend, the following week, and the following weekend. I spent two weeks at home working on stuff for it; mostly armor. My father had become an expert on shields, axes, and swords. I worked late every night.



Late one night, my doorbell rang. I opened it and a very drunk Hannah fell into my arms. "Does this belong to you?" Asked one of the two police officers with her.



"If it will keep her out of the drunk tank tonight, I guess so." I half carried, half dragged her to my bedroom and just tossed her on the bed. I took my shower, shaved, put on my pajamas, and took my clothes for the next day just in case she repeated herself and got sick.



I peeked in on a still sleeping Hannah the next morning. I tried to decide whether to stay and try to talk to her or just let it go. I went to work.



That night when I got home the house was perfect again. She even cleaned my kitchen. In the bathroom my toothbrush and toothpaste were not where they normally were so I put them where they were supposed to be. The toothbrush was wet and so was the wash cloth on the sink. I took an enchilada dinner out of the freezer and put it in the microwave. I ate dinner, but never tasted it.

<hr pg="4" />I left the next morning for the Philadelphia Festival. I took with me all the material I had for shields and chain mail. I planned on doing a lot of demonstrations. The first day was tremendous, and it got better from there. The first Sunday, I had a crowd watching me virtually all day. Teddy and I were both exhausted when the festival closed for the day.



Nights in the vendor's area were always party central. There was food being cooked, music being played, alcohol being consumed, sword fights being rehearsed, costumes being repaired or tried on, horses being groomed, and women being fucked ... and in a couple of tents, men as well. It was not unusual to walk by a tent and hear the sounds of sex, or stroll by a camper or RV and watch it rock.



I sat outside my tent after everything settled down and thought how nice it would be to have someone to snuggle with in my tent. Both Hannah was probably available, but I just couldn't bring myself to see or talk to her much less fuck her.



The crowds on Monday were hardly crowds, but the foot traffic was steady. No attendance records would be broken that day. It was mid-afternoon and I was demonstrating how tedious it was to put chain mail together. I looked up and watching me was Hannah. I continued my demonstration and asked for questions from those watching me. There were none and the people there just filtered away. Hannah stood there.



"Do you like doing this?" she asked.



"Yes, I do." I answered.



"You're good at it." She walked away and disappeared into the crowd. I never saw her for the rest of the show.



My parents came on Wednesday and brought more shields and axes. I showed them around and they seemed to be underwhelmed with what I was doing. I showed them where the vendors stayed and my mother especially, hated my tent setup.



The rest of the week and the weekend went very well. Both Teddy and I were pleased.



When I got home, I took a day off. When I went to the shop my father was working on chain mail for me. I started telling him about my plans for a motor home and larger trailer. The door opened and in came Hannah.



"That festival was fun. Some of my friends and I are going to the next one that comes close to here." She said. "We were even thinking of going in costume."



"Should be fun." I said noncommittally.



"Will you be there?"



"Probably." Both my father and I kept working and didn't look at her."



"Could I ride with you?"



"Not too practical because I will be there from Wednesday through Sunday."



"That's okay. We can get a motel room."



"Not likely. They sell out months in advance."



"Where do you sleep?"



"In a tent."



"That sounds like fun. Maybe we could share?"



"It's a small tent."



"Small could be fun." My father looked at me, grinned and walked out. "Look," she said. "You're never going to let yourself forget that my brother slept with your wife, so that means you and I will never have a longterm relationship." She looked around to see where my father was. "But that doesn't mean we can't be fuck buddies. Right? We like fucking each other, don't we?" I agreed. "So why not use each other? You can date anyone you want but if she doesn't give you pussy, I will. How does that sound?"



I looked at her. "You are the best I've ever had. I've said it once and I'll say it again, but the thought of sharing leaves me cold. I couldn't stand the thought of having sex with you only to have you go to another man, even if you don't have sex with him. We both need to find relationships and honor them."



She came close to me, reached, touched my face, and kissed me. "You don't understand. I'm in a relationship. If you want to date someone, anyone, go ahead, but know that I will always be available for anything you want, anytime you want it. I don't need or want anyone else. I love you, and I fully intend to honor that relationship." She kissed me again and left.



My father must have watched to see when she left. "What are you going to do about her?" he asked.



I was still looking at the door she just walked through. "I have no idea, Dad. What do you suggest?"



"Either get used to the fact that her brother slept with your ex-wife and resign yourself to the probability that she isn't going away, or get out of town and stay out. This might be just the time to do something your mother and I have been talking about."



"What's that?"



"We'll talk about it when we get home." We were at the dinner table when he told my mother about Hannah. "So I was thinking it might be time to get Scott that present we've been talking about."



"I think you might be right," she said.



"What are you two talking about?"



"I don't like the idea of you sleeping in a tent." Said my mother.



"So we're going to buy you a motor home." Said my father.



I knew arguing with them wouldn't deter them, plus I thought it was a good idea. It took a week to find one I wanted. I didn't need driving lessons for it since I had my Class A CDL, so I just hugged them both, thanked them, and bought a trailer to pull behind it. I set the trailer up so that I could work in it in the event I had to. I also ran power from the RV to the trailer. It was a nice rig. I concentrated on suits of armor while my father did shields, swords, and axes. We both really enjoyed doing that kind of work.



Teddy was jealous when he saw my rig and wanted to know it had been christened yet.



"What do you mean?" I asked.



"Sex, goose. Has anybody had sex in it yet?"



"No."



He grinned. "Do you mind if Diane and I ...?"



I laughed. "Help yourself."



He sent her a text and she was there in ten minutes. He grabbed her hand and off they went.



They were holding hands and laughing when they came back. "We want you to be the first to know," he said. "Diane and I are getting married."



She hugged me. "It was your RV that put him over the top," she said. "Thank you."



I didn't see much of either of them that weekend, but my RV smelled like perfume ... and other stuff.



I was home for a week and Hannah saw the RV and stopped. It had been a long dry spell for me and I knew I could fuck her so I showed her around and she was suitably impressed. "This is much larger than a tent," she said.



"Yes it is," I said.



"That's a queen bed isn't it?" she asked.



"Yes it is," I answered.



"And a big closet."



"Certainly is."



"It looks like two can fit in that shower."



"They probably can."



We were in the living room area of the RV and she came up to me. "Has it been christened yet?"



"What do you mean?" I asked even knowing what she meant.



"Sex. Has anybody had sex in it yet?"



I lied. "Why, no. It's brand new."



"Well," she almost whispered. "We can do it now or we can do it this weekend."



We were in my parent's front yard so the "now" she referred to was impossible. "What do you mean this weekend?" I asked.



"We will have plenty of time after the festival closes in the evening. We can do it then."



"Excuse me, but it is in Southern Virginia. Even if I said yes, that's too long a drive for you."



"You're right," she said. "So I'll just ride with you."



"Didn't you hear what I just said ...?"



She started tugging on my shirt, pulling me against her. "Scott, you've admitted that I am the best piece of ass you have ever had, and you are the best I have ever had. Besides, I'm in love with you and I know you like me more than a little. So what if we can never have a meaningful relationship. I think we should just fuck each other's brain's out whenever we can. Besides, I have a dress I think would be perfect for the festival. Everybody will love it." She kissed me. Soft and gentle, like she was in love with me. "Especially you."



"I'm leaving here Tuesday morning at five. I won't wait for you." I said meekly.



She kissed me again. "You won't have to."



She was right. She had unpacked her clothes, stocked the kitchen, and was in the RV's bed by midnight on Monday night. Right after I started driving on Tuesday morning, she came and sat in the passenger seat wearing nothing but a housecoat. I know because she kept flashing me everytime I looked in her direction.



She met Diane and the two of them wore low cut dresses that made their tits stick out. I couldn't wait for the day to be over. Teddy and I closed the booth at the end of the day. Diane and Hannah were in the RV cooking dinner when we got there. I had never eaten any of Hannah's cooking, but it was very good. After Teddy and Diane left, Hannah asked me if I wanted to shower with her "before you fuck my brains out".



Two people did fit in the shower and afterward we made our way to the bed. She pulled all of the bedding off except the bottom sheet before she crawled on the bed on her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulders. "Fuck me like this."



I got behind her, put one hand on my dick and aimed it. As soon as she felt it touch her skin, she shivered and backed up. When she did that, my dick pushed its' way into the tightest, wettest pussy any dick ever had the pleasure of fucking. I reached around under her and put a tit in each hand and held on. I did some back and forth motion fucking in and out of her, but she did most of the work. I took my hands off her tits and put them on her back. There was a mirror beside the bed and I looked in to and saw her tits moving forward and backward as we fucked. It was a sensuous image. We fucked like that until she moved pulling me free of her. "Let me suck it, please."



Who was I to refuse? She rolled onto her back and I moved up to her head. As soon as my dick got within reach, she lifted her head and inhaled. There was a slurping sound as she sucked me in and her head started moving and bouncing off the mattress. I wanted more pussy so I pulled out. "No. Don't. Let me suck it. Let me suck it."



Again, who was I to refuse so back in I went. It had been sometime for me and when it was time, I let it fly. Trooper that she was, she tightened her lips around my dick and sucked harder swallowing everything.



That night was the first of many nights (and days) we fucked each other's brains out in that RV. It was also three years ago.



Her family at first tried to convince her that the only reason I allowed her to travel with me was to get even with her brother, because he had convinced them his divorce was Julie's and my fault, not his. Apparently none of them were in court to see the truth, and they, like Hannah, had believed him. Hannah provided them with copies of my divorce petition and her former sister-in-law's. He stayed around town and was responsible for a couple more divorces before deciding that the other side of the country would be better for his health. He made that decision after being shot in the ass by a shotgun wielded by an irate husband.



Hannah has some new dresses she wears at the festivals. They don't show her big stomach quite so much. She has never mentioned that she would like to be a wife before she's a mother, but I know it's on her mind. Mine too.

