TITLE    : My Wife Goes on a Date
STORYID  : my-wife-goes-on-a-date
SUMMARY  : She thought it wouldn't hurt our marriage
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2018-07-07
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |cheating wife|wife dates|slut wife|


<em>It is amazing how a talented and willing editor can take a bunch of words and have them make sense. Thank you, Flavian.</em>



<em>Wife Jodie thought that spending a night with another man would be fun. She also thought her husband wouldn't mind. She may have been correct on the night of fun part, but she certainly fucked up thinking her husband wouldn't object.</em>



*



I was sitting at my desk sipping my coffee and smiling. I was remembering the morning fuck my wife Jodie and I had enjoyed just a couple of hours ago. Her name is Jodel but everyone calls her Jodie. Sex with her was always great.



We met in high school and, for the most part, only dated each other. I say for the most part because the few times we had what we called 'disagreements' we both dated other people but we always made our way back to each other.



We gave our virginity to each other one month before our senior prom and two weeks after my 18<sup>th</sup> birthday. Her 18<sup>th</sup> was exactly one month before mine and we married nine months after graduating. She was my only sex partner and as far as I knew, I was her only one.



My cell phone rang. I looked to see if I knew who was calling. I give my business card out and get calls from numbers I don't recognize so I can't be selective about answering it.



I hate getting calls from scam artists and have gotten calls offering to help fix my computer, improve my credit or get me better health care. But I especially hate when the caller says he or she is calling from the IRS and there are problems with my tax returns and if I don't call them immediately they are going to 'send the cops' after me.



I am able to tolerate the legitimate calls where honest people are trying to make a living but I hate scum bag scam artists and thieves and as soon as I recognize them as such I start describing to them what I would do after I stuck a broomstick up their ass. They tend to hang up rather quickly after that.



Anyway, my cell phone rang. The screen showed it was Jodie's office number. My first thought was why was she calling from her office phone and not her cell phone? So I answered.



"Hello, sweetie"



"Uh, this isn't your wife Mr. Taylor."



That's my name. Taylor. John Richard Taylor III. And, as is the tradition in parts of the country, being the third person in line with the same name I was called 'Trey'.



Jodie works in insurance. I sell RV's and concentrate on the 'high end' motor coaches.



Neither Jodie nor I graduated from college but we think we do okay. We live in a house owned by my mother and step-father and pay no rent while we save enough to buy our own. We like the house and the neighborhood and, frankly, are in no hurry to move.



"My name is Michael Hamilton and I work with your wife."



"What can I do for you, Mr. Hamilton?"



"I hope it is more what I can do for you. I have some information about your wife that I think you should know. Are you available to meet me around noon today?"



"What kind of information? Is she all right?"



"She was fine the last time I saw her and as far as the information I have, I much prefer discussing it in person."



"Listen, Mr. Hamilton, I don't know what kind of joke you and my wife are trying to pull, but I don't have time for it. Just tell her that I didn't fall for it and I will see her at home."



"Wait Mr. Taylor! This is no joke and she doesn't know I'm calling. Meet me and you might be able to stop her from having an affair. I will be at The Spike restaurant at noon. It is on the corner of Ryan and Alamo. I am wearing a grey suit with a blue tie."



He hung up. What the fuck just happened? A complete stranger has just told me that I might be able to stop my wife from having an affair if I meet him. If this was her idea of a joke, I was not amused. So now I'm in a quandary. Do I meet him and fall for the joke? What if it isn't a joke? Fuck!



At noon, I was standing outside The Spike. A man approached me and asked if I were John Taylor. I assured him I was and indicated that we should go inside. He suggested that we just walk for a while to avoid anyone overhearing us.



So we started in the direction of the downtown park. We had just started walking and I asked what this was all about.



"I started working with your wife two months ago. We work in the same section. Almost immediately, I started hearing about her and a man in our section. It was another week or so before I started seeing things for myself. His name is Stan Morrison and they go to lunch together almost every day. They have made no secret of their friendship and talk openly. Today most of the office overheard them talking about going out tomorrow night. They've decided to go to the Hilton because it has a nice restaurant and tomorrow night there will be live music. They plan on having dinner and then dance to the live music before going up to their room and spending the night. He even called to reserve the room. Even as we speak your wife is out shopping for clothes for their date."



"Tomorrow night? And spending the night together? Just how do they expect to accomplish that?"



"She is going to tell you the truth. She is convinced that you love her enough to allow her to experience another man since you are the only one she has ever had. I overheard that bit of information last week. She honestly feels that it will not affect your marriage in any way. I guess that's why they feel safe talking openly. She doesn't think you will have a problem with it.'



"Why are you telling me this?"



"I was married for 9 years and my wife had an affair. The legal system fucked me more completely than her lover ever fucked her. She and her boyfriend are now living in the house that I pay for and my children are calling him daddy. I'm living in a dump of an apartment and eating beans and rice five nights a week. I see this as a chance to possibly help someone else avoid my situation."



We talked for a while longer and he left to go back to work. I was left to contemplate my marriage and my future. My conclusion was that if he was telling the truth, my marriage was over. It was frightening that I could so easily consider the possible demise of my marriage based solely on a relatively short conversation with a total stranger, but I thought back to my youth and remembered the pain my mother had gone through. My father was both an alcoholic and a philanderer. He had several affairs and was open about them. He even teased my mother about them.



I asked her why she put up with it. "I love him." Was her response.



Once, when I was about 11 years old, he took me with him to his then current 'girl friends' house. The two of them were somewhere in the house and I was in her living room with her dog. I got tired of sitting there petting the dog so I left and walked the mile or so home.



When I got home, I told my mother where I had been. We only had one car so she and I walked back to where the car was. She made no effort to confront them and I don't know if he even realized I had left. We took the car and went home. I didn't see him for about a week and my mother wouldn't let him in the house. Two days after she did finally let him back in, he whipped me with his belt for dropping a kitchen plate and breaking it.



Given my experiences as a child and seeing the pain my mother suffered, I could see no circumstance under which I would or could condone Jodie having an affair. Her even thinking about having one was too much for me. Call me a jerk, insensitive motherfucker, cocky, arrogant, goody two shoes or anything else you can think of, but I had no intention of going through what my mother did.



She eventually found the strength to leave my father and we were much better for it. He still lives in town, but we rarely see each other and that's fine with me. She remarried and is very happy. My stepfather treats me very well as witnessed by the fact that Jodie and I live in a house owned by him and my mother.



So what do I do now? Confront Jodie or ignore the information I had just received? Wait and see what happens? No to all of those questions.



As a salesman you can't always wait for someone to walk in the front door ready to buy. You have to be pro-active. Give your card out. Make phone calls. Talk to people. Anticipate, be tenacious and resilient and know your product. Well, that 'know your product' thing might be a problem in this case. If what Michael Hamilton told me is true, I don't know Jodie at all. And she, apparently, doesn't know me. I had made no secret of my feelings about adultery and she was well aware of my family history.



So I decided to be pro-active. But exactly how does one start being pro-active in a situation which may not even exist? Start by covering all your bases. Anticipate a 'worst case' scenario. Then choose a course of action and determine what is the best thing that can happen to you as a result of your decision and what is the worst thing that can happen. If you are not prepared to accept the worst possible outcome, choose a different course of action and keep choosing until you determine what you can accept.



I made my decision and determined that my first task was to find a private investigator. There were several in the phone book. I randomly selected one, called and was told to come right over. Thirty minutes later I was in his office. Two hours after that he had lots of my dollars and we had a plan. It was now time to go home. I had no idea how I was going to act around her tonight.



She was home when I got there. When I walked in, she came up to me for our usual kiss and hug. I had given a lot of thought about how I should act. I could either act normally, in which case she would assume that everything was okay and her plans could continue; if indeed she actually had any plans. Or I could, in some way, hint to her about what I had heard. If I did, she could deny everything and postpone it until things blew over. If she was considering doing it now what would prevent her from re-considering or even actually doing it sometime in the future? I had no intention of living with that possibility.



The other side of the coin of course was that if she knew I suspected her it might cause her to abandon



I decided to act normally.



Dinner was almost ready. She was just waiting for me to grill the pork chops. I did and we ate. Acting normally was more difficult than I thought it would be. For me. She, however, was either a very good actress or, as Michael Hamilton had indicated, was so sure of herself that she had no concerns at all and was free to be natural.



Around 11, I went upstairs to get ready for bed. Jodie was already asleep. I took my shower and went to bed but I didn't sleep.



At six the next morning she got up got dressed and went downstairs. A few minutes later, I got up, dressed and went downstairs. She was gone. I can count on one hand the number of times one of us left the house without a kiss and goodbye. This was one of them.



It was Friday and normally a good day for selling RV's, but I called my boss and told him I was going to take the morning off. I called the attorney the dealership used and asked if he knew of a good divorce attorney. He referred me to his wife.



"But let me warn you. She hates husbands who screw around on their wives so if you did she probably won't take your case." He called her and sent me over immediately.



I told her about my conversation with Michael Hamilton. Her first question was why did I think it necessary to consult a lawyer and hire an investigator solely on the unsubstantiated story of a total stranger? I then told her about my parents and my personal intolerance for adultery or anything approaching it.



She recommended that I wait and confirm his story. She also commented that if Jodie was as confident as Hamilton had indicated that our marriage would not be hurt, she really had nothing to lose by having a little fling. I informed her that there was no way I would tolerate a fling, little or otherwise and if Jodie went through with her plans tonight I wanted to be able to have her served no later than Monday. If Hamilton was either lying or mistaken I might have to be prepared to eat a lot of crow but if he was telling the truth I would be ready.



Although hesitant, she assured me that the paperwork would be ready and all that would be needed was the location she was to be served if it came to that.



By one in the afternoon I was back at my desk trying to sell an RV to a retired couple who had been married almost 50 years. At first I had reservations about selling a 45' motor coach to such an elderly couple but after talking to them and watching the way they interacted my reservations disappeared. He acted younger than I did and moved with more agility. In fact, I was envious; both of his seeming youth and vigor and of their relationship. I had been working with them for a couple of weeks and it seemed they were now ready to buy. They had picked out the one they wanted and we had driven it up and down the highway. Mr. Jacobson had driven it and seemed comfortable and in control behind the wheel.



I had trouble concentrating on what I was doing, but I was enjoying their back and forth banter as they discussed the pros and cons of motorhome ownership. They were exactly what I wanted Jodie and me to be after a long, happy marriage. In the end, I decided to give them a new and added incentive. I decided to call it my 'Trey' discount. I had never done it before but I really liked them so I threw in part of my commission as an additional discount. They bought the RV and left with smiles on their faces.



It was time to go home. I checked with my investigator and was assured that everything was ready. At 5:30, I pulled into the garage. Jodie's car was in its usual spot. I went inside and didn't smell anything to indicate that dinner was being cooked. I was as calm, cool and collected as I thought possible. I put the package my investigator had given me on the mantle and resisted the urge to find her so I sat in my recliner and waited to see what would happen.



I didn't have to wait long. At 5:45 she came downstairs dressed to kill in what apparently was the clothes Michael Hamilton told me she had been shopping for the day before. She was gorgeous and had her overnight case with her.



"Wow! You look great. What's the occasion?"



"One of the guys at work has been after me to go out with him and I decided that it would be fun."



"What do you mean go out with him? Like on a date?"



"Yes"



"What kind of a date?"



"Well, we thought that since you are the only man I have ever been with that it might be fun for me to have sex with someone else so we are going to have dinner, go dancing and then spend the night at a hotel." I couldn't believe how calm she was and how much my feeling of being calm, cool and collected was replaced with a huge cold knot where my stomach should be.



"You can't be serious. You're spending the night with someone? There's no way in hell that I will agree to something like that. And who the hell is this WE you're talking about? I wasn't asked about this."



"It's no big deal. Just one night of playing around. Tomorrow I'll be home and it will be like nothing ever happened. Besides, I might learn a trick or two you might enjoy."



"There is no way you're going out tonight and fucking someone else!"



"Don't be silly. Of course I am."



"Jodie, if you do this our marriage is over."



Just then we heard a car horn.



"That's him." She said heading to the front door.



I beat her there.



"Please don't do this." I said blocking her path.



"I have to go." She walked around me and then tried to kiss me. "I will be home about noon tomorrow and you will find nothing has changed."



"If you get in that car you won't have a home to come back to."



"Now you're really being silly. Have a good evening thinking of me enjoying myself. When I get home tomorrow, we can fuck our brains out. Good night." She blew me a kiss on her way out the door.



I never watched her get in the car. I walked to the mantle and turned off the recorder I had put there. I took a box of garbage bags upstairs. It took me almost two hours to remove all evidence that she had ever lived here. I emptied her closet and her side of the bathroom cabinet. I even took from the safe the few pieces of jewelry she had, her birth certificate, High School Diploma and her Social Security Card. I took all of it downstairs and set it by the garage door. Then I went through the down stairs collecting her stuff; her family photo albums, her high school awards and the bronze statue by Remington she had inherited from her grandfather. I even removed all of the little magnets she had put on the refrigerator. I crammed everything in her car. Then I backed it out of the garage and parked it on the street. I put the spare set of her keys on the driver's seat.



I went to bed and tried to sleep. No luck. All I did was toss and turn. I finally got up and brewed a pot of coffee. I turned on the TV and tried to watch an all night marathon of Hogan's Heroes and drink coffee. For two nights running now I had no sleep. I felt like a zombie.



I was at the dealership early. By 11:00 I had closed the deal with the Jacobson's from the day before and they were driving off the lot in their highly discounted motor coach. I had also done all of the financial stuff I thought was required. At 11:45, I was home and received the new set of house keys from the locksmith. My investigator was also there with copies of the videos he had made over the last 18 hours.



At 12:30, I was watching a video I had gotten from the investigator when I heard the front door bell. I went to the door and opened it.



"Hi, sweetie. My key doesn't work and why is my car on the street?"



I stood in the doorway blocking her from coming in. "Your key doesn't work because you don't live here anymore. And your car is on the street because since you don't live here anymore I didn't want it in my garage."



"What are you talking about? This is my home. Now let me in." She said as she tried to go around me.



"I told you last night that if you got in that man's car you wouldn't have a home to come back to. All of your stuff is in your car."



"You can't be serious it was just..." I didn't hear the rest of what she was saying because I slammed the door in her face.



She pounded on the door for several minutes before I opened it. "If you don't stop beating on my door I will call the police and have you arrested." I probably couldn't do that, but I had nothing to lose.



"You can't do that. This is my house."



"This house belongs to my mother and step-father and they determine who lives here and they have determined that you no longer do. Now leave." Again, I probably couldn't legally do that, but I did it anyway. I slammed the door in her face for the second time and resumed watching the tape. I looked out the front window some time later and she was sitting in her car. I went to the kitchen for a drink of water but changed my mind and had a gin and tonic instead. I watched more of the tape.



During the course of the afternoon, I had gotten madder and madder. I heard the doorbell ringing. Well, not actually ringing; it was steady and unending. If it is Jodie again and in the mood I am in, I will probably rip her cunt off and feed it to the neighborhood dogs. I ran to the door and jerked it open to find her sister, Judy, standing there leaning on the doorbell. JoDel and Judy. Their parents had little imagination. Their brother's name was Jacob. He died two years ago in an accident at the oil refinery where he worked. I just looked at her.



"You are an asshole! My sister is at my house bawling her eyes out and I want to know why."



Fuck these sisters, I thought as I slammed the door in her face. Slamming doors was beginning to feel therapeutic. I turned to go back into the room and the bell started again. I jerked the door open and before she had a chance to stop ringing I slapped her hand off the bell so hard she lost her balance and almost fell.

<hr pg="2" />"If you ring that bell again I will break your fucking fingers one at a time." I started to slam the door yet again. She put her body against it and held it open.



"Talk to me. Please."



I stood there for several seconds and slowly opened the door and indicated that she could come in. She walked into the room and stopped. Then she looked at me.



"I thought you loved Jodie. I can't believe you kicked her out over such a stupid disagreement."



"Stupid disagreement?"



"She told me that last night you didn't agree with her about going out and that you kicked her out because of it."



"Oh, my fucking god. She is right about a disagreement. She did want to go out and I didn't want her too. Did she tell you that the person she wanted to go out with wasn't me? That it was a guy she worked with?"



"You've got to be kidding."



"And did she tell you that their plan was to have dinner then go dancing and then spend the night in a hotel room fucking their brains out?"



"You can't be serious. You're making this up." She sat down.



"And did she tell you that she was going to come home today and show me what she had learned. "Listen to this." I played her the audio recording I had made the night before.



"I had no idea."



"Yeah, well neither did I."



"What are you going to do?"



"Divorce her."



"Oh, no! Any chance at all of getting past it?"



I shook my head. She tried to say something else but I stopped her. "Look, Judy, I have no intention of either forgiving or forgetting what she did. This marriage is over. Period."



She nodded and thought for a couple of minutes then shrugged and stood. I walked her to the door.



She stood there and looked at me. I opened the door and ushered her out.



For the rest of that evening and all day Sunday I did nothing. I ate two grilled cheese sandwiches and a couple more gins and tonic. Self-pity had set in and was rapidly taking over my spirit. I had run out of gin so screwdrivers had become the drink of choice. There was a knock on the door. It was Judy.



"You said that if I rang the bell again you would break my fingers. So I knocked. This won't take long. I have spent the day talking to Jodie. What you told me is true. It wasn't easy for her to tell me about her date, but she finally confessed. What you don't know is that nothing happened." I indicated that she should come in and sit. I sat across from her.



"What do you mean nothing happened?"



"She told me that after he picked her up here they went to the hotel. They ordered a bottle of champagne before ordering dinner and had finished half of it by the time the waiter took their dinner order. By the time dinner arrived they were working on their second bottle of champagne. Half way through dinner it was empty. After drinking all of that champagne they felt that they were both too drunk to dance so they went upstairs to their room. They did intend having sex, but were too drunk to accomplish it. They both passed out. She was the first to awaken and realized what she had done. She woke him up and insisted that he drive her home."



"Well. That's quite a story."



"You believe her, don't you?"



"What I believe is that she and some man spent days, maybe weeks or months planning a date. In that planning process, they spent time together at lunch and work; maybe even after work. They talked and they schemed. During the time they spent together, they drew closer. They laughed together. Walked together. Exchanged confidences. He probably knows more about my marriage than I do. Hell, as a matter of fact, I know he does. He knew my wife planned to cheat on me. They probably held hands. Maybe even kissed, or worse, fondled each other. They planned to spend the evening and night together so they could have sex. That sounds like the ultimate disrespect and betrayal not love."



She just looked at me. "You don't believe her do you?"



"No, I don't"



"And you're not going to forgive her, even though nothing happened."



"Not in this lifetime."



We got to the door and she opened it. She paused. "When this is over can we still be friends?"



"Jodie and I are going to be divorced. If she contests it in any way, it is going to be messy. By the time it is over you will probably not like me so any friendship we have will most likely go away."



"I see. Well, it could have been nice. I think I'm going to miss you." With that she put one hand on my left cheek and gently kissed my right cheek. Then she left softly closing the door behind her.



Since Saturday afternoon, my phone had been off more than it was on. Jodie had tried too many times to count to talk to me but had finally given up. I did have a conversation with her father. He tried to convince me that since nothing had happened between Jodie and Stan that 'no foul' had taken place so we should just suck it up and get over it. I explained it to him the same way I had to Judy. When we ended the conversation, he knew that divorce was inevitable. He hung up with a sigh.



Monday came. The first thing I did was call my attorney and tell her about the weekend. I also told her to serve Jodie. She would be either at work or at her sister's house. I was assured she would be served before day's end.



It was a long day and I don't remember anything I did.



Shortly after four in the afternoon, my cell phone rang. I looked to see who was calling. It was Jodie's office number. I took a chance and answered it.



"Trey Taylor."



"Good afternoon Mr. Taylor. This is Michael Hamilton. I thought you might like to know that there was some excitement around here a short time ago."



"Really?"



"Yes, sir. Your wife was served and after she read the papers, she fainted. The EMT's were called and they took her to the hospital. When she fainted, she dropped the papers. After the EMT's left with her, Stan Morrison picked up the papers and looked at them. Then he almost fainted. If the situation hadn't been so serious, it might have been funny; but I saw no humor in the destruction of another marriage and I had no sympathy for either of them. I will keep you up to date on events as they happen around here."



"You do that."



My phone rang again. It was Judy.



"Hello."



"Jodie has been taken to the hospital."



"So?"



"Just thought you would like to know."



"Nope. Not the least bit interested in her or her health."



"Are you really that cold hearted, Trey?"



"Any cold heartedness on my part is directly attributable to your sister. I told you yesterday that it was going to get messy. This is just the first round."



"Good bye, Trey."



The next couple of weeks went pretty much as you would expect. Jodie tried numerous times to talk to me but I had no interest in listening. Both her father and mother tried to get me to talk to her. I told them both no. Judy called three times and we talked about everything except Jodie and the divorce. My mother spent a lot of time trying to make me feel better. I kept telling her I was fine but she insisted I wasn't so she tried even harder. Michael Hamilton called almost daily. He was having fun. He was the only one there who knew that I knew about Morrison. Jodie came to work, but just sat there except for the times she was out meeting with her attorney. Jodie and Morrison never spoke to each other. At least not in the presence of others. Me? I was just biding my time.



Our attorneys scheduled a meeting. It was to be the two attorneys, Jodie and me. It was the first time I had seen her since I kicked her out. I couldn't help but notice that she had lost a little weight and looked a bit haggard. I was surprised to see Judy there. Jodie's attorney asked if that was okay. I looked at her.



"Are you sure you want to be here?"



"I'm here for Jodie."



"That's not what I asked."



"No. But I need to be."



I told the attorney that I had no objection to her staying.



Jodie had already seated herself so the rest of us sat and her attorney started.



"Mrs. Taylor adamantly denies the alleged adultery and is asking that the petition for divorce be dismissed and that she and her husband work to maintain the marriage. She consents to counseling if that will help.



My attorney and I just looked at each other and smiled.



My attorney said. "If no adultery took place, would Mrs. Taylor care to explain her actions on the evening in question?"



We all looked at her.



"I would be happy to. I will start with when my gentleman friend came to pick me up."



"Does your gentleman friend have a name?" asked my attorney.



"Of course, but his name is not important. Nothing bad happened so there is no reason to bring him into this. I left the house and got in his car. We went to the Hotel..."



She went on to repeat, almost word for word what she had told Judy and, of course, what Judy told me. Champagne, dinner, more champagne, in the room and too drunk to fuck, (my word not hers) both passed out slept all night, home the next day and husband kicked her out. Oh, me. Poor misunderstood me. I made a mistake. I love my husband and want him to forgive me so we can have children and grow old together. I looked at Judy who was hanging on every word and nodding in agreement.



"Okay." Said my attorney. "Let's assume for the moment that what you just said is true and that no sex took place. During the course of the evening, was there any fondling or groping of any type? Any kissing? Handholding? Anything that would not pass the husband test?"



"Absolutely not!" Jodie said with conviction. Judy nodded and smiled.



My attorney looked at me and I looked at her. Sitting in front of me was a remote control device. I picked it up and pressed play. A screen dropped out of the ceiling and on the screen was the image of Jodie approaching Stan Morrison's car in our driveway. He got out of the car came around to her side and opened her door. When she reached the car they kissed. A long soulful kiss. They got in the car and left. I pressed pause.



"Lie number one." I said to the room. Everybody was now sitting up just a bit straighter. Jodie was pale and Judy just sat there and stared at her sister.



On the Thursday that Michael Hamilton first called me and I talked to my investigator, the plan we came up with was to video every move Jodie made on Friday evening starting with Stan Morrison's arrival at our house. We knew from Hamilton's information where the date was to take place and we knew they had already booked the room. We even knew the room number. What we didn't know was if he could get into the actual room they had booked and video any action which might take place. As it turned out he could.



"You also said that no inappropriate touching or fondling took place that night. Is that also correct?"



"Uh, yes." A bit hesitantly.



I pressed play for the second time. We watched as the happy couple followed the waiter to their table in Hilton's dining room. Morrison's hand on Jodie's ass. We could even see him squeezing it.



"Lie number two." Jodie looked around the room. Her attorney was busily reading the divorce petition and Judy had suddenly found her fingernails fascinating and was looking at them intently.



The video continued. Jodie and Morrison ordered a bottle of Champagne. They never stopped kissing until it arrived. They hadn't finished their first glass when they jumped up and headed for the elevators.



It cost me an even thousand dollars for my investigator to get access to their room before they checked in and four minutes after the pair entered it, Jodie was on her knees sucking his dick.



At this point Jodie screamed and ran out of the room followed by Judy. I pressed pause.



"Uh... it seems like my client didn't accurately recall all of the events of that evening. I will talk with her and get back to you." Said her attorney as he gathered his papers, stuffed them in a folder and scurried after the two sisters.



My attorney and I chatted for a few minutes and I headed back to the RV Dealership.



Shortly before closing, Judy came in and walked slowly over to my cubicle. I just sat there. She stood for some time before asking, "May I sit down?"



"Help yourself."



Silence.



"You knew, didn't you?"



"Knew what?"



"When I came over to your house that first Saturday, you already knew that they slept together."



"Yes. I was watching the video before you came in. And I can promise you they didn't do much sleeping. They fucked, Judy. She's my wife and she let another man fuck her."



"Why didn't you tell me?"



"I'm not sure. I guess I was hoping that she would admit it and agree to the divorce. If she had, I would have settled for something other than adultery. That way you and your family wouldn't have had to know what she did. I've always liked your parents."



More silence. My cell phone rang. I answered without thinking.



"Trey Taylor."



"It's Michael Hamilton, Mr. Taylor. I was off yesterday, but I understand that your wife called in and quit. She didn't even come in to clean out her desk. Thought you would like to know."



"Thank you. Let me know if you hear anything else."



Judy started to speak, but the office loudspeaker interrupted her.



"Trey, you have a call on line six. Trey, call on six."



"Trey Taylor." I picked up the phone and talked to a prospective buyer for about fifteen minutes. Judy sat there not moving. After I ended the call, Judy and I looked at each other.



"She's gone Trey."



"What do you mean gone? Dead?"



"She loaded her car and left."



"She's probably just moving into her own place."



"I don't think so. She told me to tell mom and dad that she was sorry she disappointed them."



"It isn't just your parents she disappointed."



"Yeah, we know."



More silence.



"Uh, listen, Judy I have work to do so if you don't..."



"Oh, sure, yeah, I'm sorry." She said rising. "I better go." She started out of my cubicle. Stopped and turned. "Trey?"



"Yes."



"Could we have dinner some time?"



"Maybe...some time." See looked at me then turned and left.



That night when I got home I took my copy of the video the investigator made. My attorney still had the copy we had used earlier. I put it in the player and sat down. I had only watched it completely through once. This would be the second time.



When I stopped playing It in the attorney's office, Jodie was on her knees sucking Morrison's dick. I fast forwarded to there and watched as he fucked my wife's face. He put his hands on the back of her head and held it as he drove his cock in and out of her mouth. She finally put her hands on his hips and pushed him away gasping for breath. Then she stood and they hurriedly undressed. When they were naked, he pushed her onto the bed and dove between her legs, spread them and started eating her.



Morrison was no slouch when it came to eating pussy. Jodie's hips were off the bed most of the time pushing her pussy into his face. She came at least three times and the pleasure I saw on her face was unlike anything I had ever seen.



Then I watched as he fucked her. I couldn't help but notice that his dick was no bigger than mine, but he took her to heights I never did. She was very vocal in her responses to his constant and almost violent fucking. When he would thrust into her she would rise to meet him and when he withdrew her hips would fall back onto the bed only to repeat her upward thrust as he plunged his dick into her again and again. She begged him to fuck her. She moaned when he pounded her. And she screamed when she came. Then she passed out. Not for long and Morrison didn't seem concerned. He just got off her, lay beside her, stroked her breasts and pinched her nipples until she came to. Like he had done it a thousand times.



I watched as he fucked her three more times.



As I watched the video, I tried to figure out exactly what my reaction was. It dawned on me that when Jodie and I had sex we were making love; but she and Morrison were fucking. No romance. No love. Just hard, raw fucking. He didn't care about her feelings or emotions. He just wanted to fuck and cum. And it appeared that Jodie felt the same. The element of roughness came as a surprise. I couldn't recall any indication that she wanted, or would accept, anything other than love and tenderness. How could I have missed that?



I sat there trying to come to grips with my emotions. Part of me wanted to scream in pain at having my best friend and only love betray me like this. Another part of me wanted to burn the bitch. My mind was like a bowl of spaghetti; all jumbled up with no order or direction.



I fell asleep in my recliner thinking about fucking. Not love making. Fucking! And the person I was fucking had no face.



Since I first met Jodie whenever I thought of sex, her face was the one my mind's eye saw.



Two more weeks went by. My attorney tried several times to set up another meeting with Jodie and her attorney, but couldn't. Jodie couldn't be found.



A month went by. Then another and another. Still no word from her. I had talked to both Judy and her parents several times during that period. I kept asking if they had heard from her and the answer was always no. I thought about getting an investigator to track her down but my attorney talked me out of it. I had cancelled the credit cards and taken half of the money, but records indicated that she had not touched any of what was left. "If she stays gone for a few more months we might be able to file on the grounds of desertion but we'll see."



My phone rang. "Trey Taylor."



"Good morning, Mr. Taylor. This is Michael Hamilton, remember me?"



"I certainly do. How are things going?"



"Not bad. Thought I might bring you up to date on a couple of things. Do you remember I told you about my divorce?"



"Sure do. Your ex was living in your house with her boyfriend as I recall."



"That's right. They were." He laughed.



"Were?"



"Yep. I'm living there now. With my kids."



"What happened?"



"It seems the boyfriend is a thief. Somehow he managed to convince my ex that she should steal money from her company and now they are both in jail."



I laughed. "Good. Fuck them both. Are you still working at the same place?"



"Yeah. That's the other reason I called. Since your wife left it has been pretty quiet around here and Stan Morrison has kept pretty much to himself. But for the last week or so some of his phone calls have been pretty interesting."



"Interesting how?"



"Well, today he was talking to your wife."



"How do you know that?"



"I heard him say 'Miss you, too, Jodie.'"



"Did you happen to overhear anything that might give you an indication of where she is? I have a divorce petition she needs to sign."



"I have the phone number she called from. Would that help?" He laughed over the phone.



"How did you get that?'



"After Morrison finished talking to her he went back to his desk, put his phone down, sat for a couple of minutes and went into the boss's office. I went over, picked up his phone and looked at the last call he received and wrote down the number. Piece of cake."



"Good work, Mr. Hamilton. Thank you. And if you hear anything else, keep me informed."



"You can bet on it." Then he gave me the number, which I passed on to my attorney. The area code was southern Florida.



I decided to make a phone call.



"Hello."



"Hello, Judy. This is Trey."



"What do you want, Trey?"



"You once asked if you and I could have dinner. Would you still like to?"



Silence



"Judy?"



"What do you want from me, Trey?"



"To have dinner."



"Bullshit."



"Okay. Do you or your family know anyone in Florida?"



"Why?"



"Because I think Jodie is there."



"Why do you care where she is?"



"Because I want a divorce and in order to expedite it she has to get the paperwork and sign it."



"Okay, now that the truth is out, do you still want to have dinner?"



After a bit of thought, "Yeah. I believe I do. How about I pick you up at 6?"

<hr pg="3" />"See you then."



Dinner was a bit on the tense side.



I had taken her home and we were sitting in her living room drinking wine.



"When are you going to ask?"



"Ask what?"



"Where in Florida she's living?"



"I don't have to ask. My attorney is working on finding her even as we speak."



"Maybe I can save him some trouble. She lives in Fort Lauderdale."



"Why are you telling me now? Why didn't you tell me before?"



"Because I wasn't convinced that you wouldn't forgive her. I thought there was a still a chance. Now I know there isn't."



"What convinced you?"



"The look you gave that blonde in the black dress at the restaurant when she slithered by. I saw nothing but lust in your eyes and I knew. In all the years I have known you I have never seen you look at anyone that way. Not even Jodie."



"That's because I loved Jodie. I just thought about ravaging the blonde."



"Didn't you ever want to ravage Jodie?"



"No. I just wanted to love her."



"Did you ever think that a little ravaging might go a long way towards showing her that you loved her?"



"No. That is, not until I saw her on the video. I had no idea she might enjoy something like that."



A long silence.



"Let me ask you a personal question, Judy. Don't answer if you don't want to. Have you ever been ravaged or fucked rough?"



"Uh...yes."



"And did you like it?"



"Like it? No. I loved it."



"Why?"



She took a deep breath and looked directly in my eyes. "Speaking for myself... and only for myself... when I have sex I try to make it as enjoyable for my partner as he is trying to make it enjoyable for me. That means I tend to follow certain conventions in touching, feeling and fucking. But on those occasions when the partner, or environment, or events, or even alcohol provide sufficient additional stimuli the sex can be totally out of this world. A slap on the ass, a tug on the hair or anything else out of the realm of what we call 'normal' can heighten the sexual experience considerably."



Holy shit. She had obviously given this a lot of thought. I looked at her and her eyes were no longer looking at me. She was looking through me and into some memory.



"Have you ever passed out when you orgasmed?"



"No, but I talked to a woman who has and apparently it is quite an experience."



"Jodie did."



"What?"



"Jodie did. I watched her on the video I have. She was out for a few seconds."



"Oh my God. Really?"



I took a sip of my wine and didn't answer. We sat there for a long time each lost in our own thoughts.



"Trey?"



"Yes?"



"Could I watch it sometime? The part where she passes out. Could I watch it? The thought of it turns me on so much I'm getting wet just sitting here."



I have known this woman for a large part of my life and I never dreamed I would ever hear anything like that come out of her mouth...or that it would turn me on.



That feeling started in my groin... the tingling... and it moved up and spread out. Over three months of celibacy was catching up with me. I wasn't interested in making love. I wanted to fuck someone.



"I think that could be arranged."



She smiled.



I went home a short time later. In bed my thoughts were on fucking. Not love making. This time there was a face attached to it and the face belonged to Judy.



She and I talked several times over the next couple of days. She gave me Jodie's address and told me that she had talked to Jodie and told her the divorce papers were coming. I gave it to my attorney who almost immediately sent Jodie the divorce papers.



Judy and I decided that Friday night we would go out to dinner then go back to my house and watch the video. She was quick to point out that a revenge fuck...or any other kind of fuck...was not in the cards and if that was my plan, I should forget it. She was not going to sleep with her brother-in-law. Period.



On Thursday morning, I was at work and received another call from Michael Hamilton.



"Hello Mr. Taylor. Thought I would bring you up to date on current events. Stan Morrison just quit. He didn't give a notice. He just walked in, cleaned out his desk, told the boss and left. He told one of the other people in the office that he was moving to Florida. "



"Well, well, well. That's interesting. Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I appreciate you telling me. Oh, by the way, how are you getting along?"



"Pretty well, thank you for asking. My wife has confessed to stealing and has 'copped a plea'. She will get a light sentence but her boyfriend is looking at a pretty lengthy stay in prison. I hope he serves every single day as some big dicked bubba's girlfriend."



I laughed.



We chatted another couple of minutes and ended the call. Then I called Judy.



"Hi. I was just thinking about you." She said when she answered.



"How long have you known that Stan Morrison was moving to Fort Lauderdale?" Up until now I don't think she knew that I knew his name.



A long silence.



"Judy, how long have you known?"



"Trey...I..."



"How long?"



"A few days."



"How many times have they seen each other since she moved there?"



"Trey... listen to..."



"How many fucking times have they seen each other since she moved there?"



A short pause.



"Four. She's been here twice and he's gone there twice."



"They've seen each other four times that you know about and the other night at dinner you said that you weren't sure I wouldn't forgive her? You were okay with knowing that she was still fucking that asshole and you were okay with her coming back to me after all that?"



"Trey...I...she's my sister and..."



I ended the call. My phone rang immediately. It was Judy. I ignored that call and her next three calls as well.



I sat in my cubicle for a couple of minutes then walked out to the maintenance shop. I enjoyed talking to the mechanics and watching them work on the RV's. One of the mechanic's was a good friend. Last year the Army retired him because of wounds received in Iraq. His left leg below the knee and two of the fingers of his left hand had been blown off.



He and my boss were the only two people at the dealership aware of my situation. We went outside and sat at the employee's picnic table and I brought him up to date.



"I can arrange for that motherfucker to not make it to Florida if you want me to."



"Nah. Neither of them is worth going to jail for. I just want to be rid of her."



"I can arrange that as well."



I laughed. "Nah. Having to live with herself should be punishment enough."



So we talked some more until we heard over the loudspeaker, "Trey, call on line four. Trey, line four."



I went back to my cubicle.



"Trey Taylor."



"Trey, please don't hang up."



I hung up and walked over to the receptionist. "No more calls for me today. I'm going home."



I turned down my street and saw Judy's car sitting in front of my house. I pulled in my driveway and into my garage. The garage door closed before she got to it so she went to the front door and knocked. I guess she still remembered my threat about what I would do if she rang the bell.



I went into the house through the garage and into the kitchen. She was still knocking. I decided to open the door.



"You're not welcome here."



"Trey, listen."



I closed the door in her face. I didn't slam it this time.



I love Italian food so I heated a frozen spaghetti and meatball dinner and went to my bedroom. By 10:00 PM, I was asleep. The next morning I showered, shaved, dressed and went to work.



Judy was waiting for me. I guess she thought I wouldn't cause a scene at work. She was wrong. I tried to walk past her. She grabbed my arm.



"Goddamn it, Trey, listen to me!"



"You have nothing to say I want to hear. But I've got something to say to you. You were willing to let her come back to me knowing she fucked that lowlife son of a bitch over and over and you weren't going to tell me. All three of you can rot in hell."



It was a long time before I saw her again. She talked with my mother occasionally but never to me. I learned that she had very little to do with Jodie and rarely spoke to her. She met and married the golf pro at Kenwood Country Club and found she had a knack for the game. He became her caddy. The last time I saw her she was on television teeing off.



So now the whole dealership was aware of my situation. It had the makings of a long day. I paced around the dealership for a couple of hours trying to figure out what I wanted to do next.



I managed to get through the day and headed home. My mother called and invited me to dinner. I went and she had Italian of course. She, my step-father and I enjoyed the meal and most of the evening. The enjoyment ended when she said. "I spoke to Judy today."



"Mom, another word about that family and I'm leaving."



"Trey, listen to me. There's something you don't know."



"I know all I need to, Mom. Jodie cheated and I'm divorcing her."



"Okay. That's fine. She cheated and you're divorcing her. But what are you going to do about the baby?"



"Oh, shit, Mom. You're not going to fall for that, are you?"



"There's nothing to fall for, Trey. She's pregnant. I talked to her myself when she was here."



"You what?" I literally jumped up.



"I saw her and she told me."



"She was here and you didn't tell me?"



"Trey, she asked us not to."



"So you listened to a certified cheating whore and disregarded the feelings of your own son?"



"We thought you needed a little more time to forgive her."



"Forgive her? Are you crazy? Have you forgotten what your life was like living with a cheater?"



"Sweetie, things are different now. It's a different world. People are freer to try new things and..."



I stormed out of the house. Was I living in some universe where everything was upside down and backwards? My mother lived through hell as my father cheated time after time and now she's telling me that it might be all right for my wife to cheat. I thought about her on my way home and could almost see why my father had so many affairs. I loved my mother, but her naivety was amazing; and gullible? God help her but in the age of smart phones and the internet, she would still buy an encyclopedia from a traveling salesman. But to tell me I should forgive Jodie was way over the line even for her.



I headed home but drove by my house and didn't stop. I ended up at the dealership. I had keys so I went in. There was a sofa in the employee's break room so I lay down and tried to slow my mind down. It didn't work. I tossed and turned until almost five before falling asleep. I woke up at 10:30. The boss had come in at some point and had seen me asleep, so he put a sign on the door and told everybody not to bother me.



When I did start moving around one of the other salesmen told me that the boss wanted to see me in his office. I felt like shit. My back hurt from sleeping on the sofa, I needed a shower and shave and my mouth tasted like shit, but I went to see the boss.



"Trey, you need some time off and I have just the way you can get it. Do you remember the Jacobson's; that elderly couple you sold the nice blue Prevost to a few months ago?"



"Yes."



"Well, they were in Vancouver, Canada, last week and he had a heart attack. He will be okay but the coach needs to get home. They want somebody to bring it back for them and they asked for you."



"Sounds right up my alley right about now. When can I leave?"



"You can fly out tomorrow. Janey will get you a flight. Use the company credit card for expenses."



"Sounds good."



"Now get your ass home, clean up and pack. It should take about four days to get back. If I were you, I'd take ten. The Jacobson's are in no big hurry and I certainly don't need you back here too soon. Just give Ben any deals you have pending and he can handle them for you."



I went straight to the hospital when I arrived in Vancouver. Mr. Jacobson had lots of tubes and machines attached to and sticking out of him and Mrs. Jacobson was puttering around trying to make him more comfortable and he was grousing about her bothering him and not letting him sleep. They both had smiles on their faces. It was obvious they just wanted to be near each other and seemed to be grateful that they were.



I stood there for several minutes, content to watch. I realized that I was smiling for the first time in a long time.



Mrs. Jacobson looked up and saw me.



"Trey! It's good to see you." As she hugged me.



"Hey, Trey. How was your flight?"



"Now be quiet, Robert. You know what the doctor said." Said Mrs. Jacobson. She patted my arm. "I can tell him to be quiet now and he can't argue with me because it's doctor's orders." She winked at me.



We sat, talked and watched as Robert floated in and out of sleep. Every time we thought he was out a nurse would come in and 'check his vitals' or adjust his medication or some other medical related task.



Mrs. Jacobson told me where the motor coach was. She also told me that two of their grandchildren had been with them but their grandson had flown home. Their granddaughter was packing a few things for them to take home with them when Robert was released but she, the granddaughter, would be riding back with me.



We finished talking as the granddaughter came in carrying two small overnight cases she had packed for her grandparents. She was about my age and attractive in that girl next door sort of way. We were introduced. She ignored the introduction and me and actually snorted at me before talking to her grandmother. They chatted for a short time then turned to me.



"Darla," she indicated her granddaughter, "has been driving our car this last week or so. We towed it behind the coach. She will take you to the coach so you can do whatever it is that you need to get it ready to go."



Darla started to protest, but was cut off. "Now, stop it, Darla. I told you we will be fine so don't worry about us." She looked at me. "No offense, Trey, but Darla doesn't want to go back with you. She thinks she needs to stay with us. By the way Trey, your boss told us that it might take you a few extra days to get back because you were taking some time off. You might want to consider going through Yellowstone. We promised Darla we would go through there on our way home."



"I'll see what I can do, Mrs. Jacobson." And we started to leave.



"Oh Trey, here's a letter authorizing you to take the coach across the border. Your boss said it might be a good idea." She said taking a letter from her purse. She handed it to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you for doing this and be careful."



Darla and I headed for the car and then to the RV Park. She drove but bitched and moaned the whole time but never said a word directly to me. I tried several times to start a conversation but she made it clear she wasn't interested so I looked out the side window. When we arrived at the coach, she immediately went inside. I wanted to hook the car to the coach and be ready for an early morning departure but she had taken the car keys inside with her. I went in and asked her for them. She literally threw them at me and I had to duck to keep from being hit in the eye.



"What is wrong with you?" I asked as I reached down to pick them up. For the last few weeks I had dealt with asshole women and I was getting pretty damn tired of it.



I went to the car, positioned it behind the coach and hitched it.



I did my 'walk around inspection' of the coach then sat in one of the lawn chairs. After a short break I thought it would be nice to have a cold beer so I put the chairs and a small table in one of the lower storage compartments of the coach then went inside to see if the Jacobson's had any beer. Darla was looking in the refrigerator.



"Any beer in there? Or anything good to eat?"



"I'm not your fucking maid." As she slammed the refrigerator door and went into the bedroom and closed the door.



That was it. Fuck these attitudinal women. I'd been shit on enough; Jodie, Judy, my mother and now this bitch I didn't even know. I was fed up with them. All of them. Mrs. Jacobson was the only one who had even remotely shown any kindness.



Ten days my ass. I hadn't heard a single civil word from this person all day and had no intention of tolerating her sorry assed attitude any longer than necessary. I would get this coach home in two! The less time spent with her the better. I went outside, disconnected the external power and water lines, went back inside, sat in the driver's seat, started the engine, put Houston, Texas, in the GPS, raised the levelers, put that sucker in gear and headed south. It was 6:00PM and I hadn't wanted to start until the next morning, but little miss attitude in the bedroom changed my mind. By 8:00, I had crossed into the United States and had cleared Customs. She had to come out long enough for that then retreated back to the bedroom.



The fuel tanks were full so I had two hundred gallons of Number 1 Diesel fuel and that Caterpillar engine wanted to rock and roll so we did. At 7 the next morning we were in Burley, Idaho. I had stopped twice during the night to make coffee and sandwiches and was more than a bit tired.



I felt rather than saw little miss attitude. She sat in the passenger seat and looked out the windshield. After a few minutes she spoke. "I'm hungry. Is there anything to eat?"



Just hearing her speak made my tiredness evaporate and my desire to end this trip quickly increase. "I'm not YOUR fucking maid." I said as I pressed down on the accelerator pedal. She glared at me then stormed back to the bedroom.



A little before nine I really had to piss so I pulled into a rest area. I went to the bathroom on the coach and pissed. When I came out, she had the front door open and was stepping off the coach.



"If you get off this coach you're not getting back on because I'm leaving." I sat back down and pushed the button to release the parking brake. I put the coach in gear just in time for her to storm back into the bedroom.



By noon, my ass was dragging. Driving 18 hours is never a good idea, but I had and it had kicked my ass so I pulled into another rest area, parked between two 18-Wheelers, and lay down on the sofa. I was out almost immediately. I awoke to the hum of the caterpillar and the feeling of movement. I sat up and looked at my watch. I had slept for five hours. Miss attitude was in the driver's seat and we were rolling. Fast. I stood up and walked to where I could look over her shoulder. I watched for a couple of minutes and decided that she knew what she was doing. Her grandfather had apparently taught her well. I fixed a cup of coffee and sat in the passenger seat and sipped.



Two hours and not a word. Good.



I was starting to get concerned about our fuel situation, however. We had been going about 25 hours or so. At an average speed of 60, we had gone approximately 1500 miles. At 8mpg, we had burned most of our fuel.



I decided to broach the subject." We should probably stop at the next truck stop for fuel." No response.



"Excuse me, but we might need fuel."



"I took care of it while your sorry ass was snoring."



She was full of surprises, this girl. I went back to the sofa and was soon back asleep. I had not seen her use the bathroom, eat or drink. She must have accomplished both while I slept.



Three more hours I slept while she drove. I was impressed with her ability to drive...and control her bladder.



Finally, she pulled into a truck stop in Dumas, Texas, and parked. It was a little after 10 PM. She got up, and I watched as she fixed a sandwich, took a soda from the refrigerator and disappeared into the bedroom. That was my cue to drive. So I did; after fixing two chicken salad sandwiches and brewing a thermos of coffee I sat back in the driver's seat and headed for Houston.



I stopped once during the night to piss and get some Cheetos and coffee. At eight the next morning I pulled into the lot at the dealership in Houston. I needed to sleep but I also needed to use the bathroom so I opened the door and stepped down. It was the first time I had gotten off the coach since we went through U.S. customs... when was that? A week ago? It wasn't, of course, but it sure as hell felt like it. Actually, it had been less than 40 hours ago. My ass was dragging but at least I was finished with little miss attitude.

<hr pg="4" />I used the bathroom generally reserved for our customers because I really needed to go. I stepped out just in time to see the Jacobson's car headed out the gate. The driver's window was open and there was a middle finger high in the air. I returned the 'salute'. It was almost time for the staff to start arriving so I thought I would brew a pot of coffee in the employee's break room. When I went in, I felt the sofa calling my name so I answered.



I didn't move until after three in the afternoon. I got up, yawned, scratched my ass and started out the door. There was a note in large letters telling me to see the boss if I ever woke up.



I walked down the hall and knocked.



"Come in."



I entered.



"You know, the other employees are getting really tired of you monopolizing the break room."



I yawned.



"I received a phone call this morning. From Mrs. Jacobson."



I scratched my ass again and sat.



"It was a very interesting conversation." Pause. "She wanted to know how you did it."



"I was in a hurry to get back so I forced myself to drive too long and too hard."



"Oh, we know how you got home. She was interested in knowing how you did it without killing her granddaughter."



"What?"



"Apparently the granddaughter is a real pain in the ass and seems to have no real regard for other people's feelings. The Jacobson's didn't want to send her home with you, but didn't want her with them either. She caused them nothing but embarrassment the entire time she was with them on their trip. The grandson left because he couldn't stand being cooped up with her in the coach any longer."



"I know how he feels. The only reason I spent so much time driving is every time I gripped the steering wheel I thought of my hands being on her throat and it felt so good I didn't want to stop."



He laughed. "Anyway, they are happy you made it home okay. Mr. Jacobson should be discharged in another week or so. All indications are that he will be good as new after a little recovery period. They want us to service the coach. We will and will have one of the guys take it to their place."



"That's good news; both about him and keeping the coach. I thought they might want to sell it."



"Oh, hell no. They love it and have even talked about becoming full time RV'ers. Okay, so now I want you to go home for a couple of days and rest up."



"But..."



"No, 'but's' goddamn it. Just do what I tell you to do. It might give the other employee's a chance to get their break room back."



I had been gone only three days, but it seemed like much longer. I went home, took a much needed shower and shave and went to bed.



I probably slept 30 hours out of the next two days but at some point I was going to have to rejoin the real world. The first step in that regard was, I supposed, to check my phone and see what I had missed. I had given absolutely no thought to it over the past several days. I started looking for it. I looked in the pockets of the clothes I had worn on the Vancouver trip and it wasn't there. I called my boss and asked him to check the break room and the coach to see it if was there. It wasn't.



Shit. How many customer calls had I missed?



I headed for the dealership. There were several messages from customers and I started returning them. By midafternoon I was pretty well caught up.



I had gone to the employee's break room and fixed myself a cup of coffee and had started back to my cubicle when I saw her come in. Little miss attitude. I turned and headed for the service area. I had been there... hiding... for about ten minutes when the PA system sounded.



"Trey, come to my office, please. Trey to my office."



I took my time and sipped my coffee.



"Trey, my office...please."



I knocked.



"Come in. Oh, good, there you are. I believe you know Darla Jacobson. She was telling me about the trip back from Canada."



She just sat there. I looked at him in disbelief. I, of course, had told him all about the trip. He had a twinkle in his eye I had only seen a couple of times. Once when the dealership had an exceptional month of sales and he had seen nothing but dollar signs. The other time was when his twin sons had both received 'full ride' scholarships to the University of Texas. The bastard was enjoying this.



He grinned. "Miss Jacobson came to return your cell phone. Apparently you left it in her grandparents' car."



Just then his phone rang, "If the two of you will excuse me, I have to take this call."



She stood and I indicated that she should precede me out of the office. She walked into the showroom and I followed at what I thought was a safe distance. She stopped and I did likewise. She turned to face me and reached her hand out. My phone was in it.



I was too far away from her to take it so she took a couple of steps toward me. I moved back the same number of steps.



She almost smiled.



"Am I really that bad?" She took several steps toward a nearby table and put the phone on it.



"Yes."



She moved away from the table and I moved to pick up my phone and head back to the service area. The thought of saying thank you never entered my mind.



"Trey."



I stopped and cautiously turned back to her.



"I heard some of your messages. I couldn't help it. I heard them as they were being left. You did my grandparents a huge favor and you are dealing with your own problems. Trey, I'm so sorry I acted the way I did."



She turned and walked out of the dealership.



Well, ain't that the shits. She has a soft side. And it even seemed sincere. I went to my cubicle and sat.



It was just a couple of minutes later when there was a tremendous crashing sound outside. I looked toward the street and saw that at least two cars were involved. Normally I steer clear of things like this and let the professionals deal with it, but one of the salesmen who had been outside came in and said, "Trey, I think that silver car is the lady who came to see you."



Oh, shit. I ran to the crash site. It was her. The EMT's weren't there yet, but there was one person who was trying to stop the bleeding on Darla's scalp. Someone else was working on what appeared to be a broken arm.



Darla looked up and saw me and this time she did actually smile. "You always seem to catch me at my best." Then she passed out.



The EMT's arrived shortly after that and stabilized both Darla and a passenger in the other car and took them to the hospital. I overheard them tell the investigating police officer which hospital they were going to. I went back to work. I had been at my desk for about 15 minutes when I remembered the Jacobson's. I thought I should call them and let them know about Darla.



I did and reassured them that she didn't appear to be in any real danger; cuts, bruises and probably a broken arm but I thought she would be okay. I heard Mrs. Jacobson tell her husband. Then I heard his response. "Broken arm? Too bad it wasn't her neck. Might have knocked some humanity into her."



After a sufficient chastisement to her husband, Mrs. Jacobson asked me if I would call Darla's parents and let them know. She gave me their number and I did. Then I remembered my phone. There were 54 texts; half from my mother and the rest from Judy, prospective customers, and one from Michael Hamilton. I called the prospective customers and made four appointments for the next couple of days. I ignored the others.



I left work at 5 and headed home. The hospital the EMT's said they were going to was nowhere near my house, but I found myself there nonetheless. A check with the information desk and I found out that her room was 646. I went there. When I walked in, she already had visitors. Her parents.



"Trey, meet my parents. Mom, Dad, This is Trey Taylor. Trey, my parents, Ralph and JoAnne Jacobson."



"Nice to meet you, Trey. Darla hasn't stopped talking about your trip." Said her mother.



I'll bet she hasn't, I thought.



"How could you stand being in that small bus with her for two days? She would have driven me crazy." Said her father.



"It isn't a bus, Dad. It's a coach."



"It's a bus. Pretty fancy, but still a bus."



"Ignore him, Trey."



"How are you?"



"Fine... except for a broken arm and some stitches."



"Well...uh...I better go. Just thought I should check in on you. Take care of yourself."



"Thanks for stopping by."



"Oh, Trey." Said her father, "Thank you for calling my parents and us."



"You're most welcome. Good bye."



I went home and debated with myself about calling my mother. It was a short debate. The negative side won because I didn't see an affirmative side.



And so it went for about three weeks. My mother and Judy tried repeatedly to call and I ignored them. Even my step-father called. I talked to him but ended the call when he tried to put my mother on the phone.



My attorney had sent the divorce papers to the address Judy had given me. I guess she was enjoying living with and fucking Morrison because her signature was big, bold and in bright red magic marker. Her pregnancy, if it actually existed, was never mentioned. In about two months I would be a free man.



I started thinking of being single. The thought of that prompted other thoughts. Like the celibacy I had endured. Celibacy!! Holy shit, it has been a long dry spell! All of a sudden my balls started to ache. Blue balls!! I needed to get laid!



I was sitting in my living room and my hand went to my dick...maybe if I stroked it a little the ache would lessen; but if I stroked it a lot, the ache would go away completely. So I unzipped my trousers, pulled out my dick and for the first time since before I got married I jacked off. And as I jacked off my mind's eye saw me fucking someone and the harder I stroked, the clearer the image in my mind became until the dam burst and I shot cum all over the place. I have read stories where guys claim to have shot their loads half way across a room and have always known they were exaggerated; but when my load shot out I thought it was going to knock a hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room it was so intense. Obviously, it didn't even come close, but my god it felt good. I can see how a woman can pass out after having an orgasm.



After I calmed down and relaxed, it dawned on me that the image of the woman I was fucking in my mind as I jacked off was Darla. Darla! A Cold chill went up my spine and my recently very hard dick shriveled to a shadow of its rock hard self.



I sat for just a minute before going to the bathroom to shower and get ready to go out to eat. God, it had felt good to cum. I'm going to have to do that more often whoever the mental image belongs to.



I had just finished dressing when my phone rang.



"Trey Taylor."



"Hello Trey, this is Dottie Jacobson."



"Well, hello, Mrs. Jacobson. How are you? And how is the patient?"



"Call me Dottie, please, Trey. He's fine. Actually he's better than fine. We're planning our next trip and he wants to go to Colorado, but I'm a bit concerned about him driving in those mountains. What do you think?



"Dottie that coach won't let him get in any trouble. All he has to do is turn on the 'Jake Brake' and leave it on and as long as he doesn't try to break any speed limits, he will be fine."



"That's what he says. He has read articles on mountain driving and is excited to try it. I think I'm going to get some Valium before we go." She laughed as she said it. In my experience with them I was positive that she would go with him anyplace he wanted to go, whenever he wanted to go there and vice versa. I loved this couple.



"Anyway, the reason I called was to invite you to a little barbeque we are having to celebrate Robert's recovery. It will be at our place this Friday at six. Bring your wife. We would love to meet her."



It dawned on me that I had never discussed my personal life with them and apparently, Darla, after hearing some of my texts, hadn't either so they had no idea I was almost divorced.



"Thank you, Dottie. I would love to come. See you then."



It had been a good week. Usually, I'm happy if I sell one RV a week. This week it was three. One of them was a high end used coach which used to belong to a country music star who 'upgraded' to a newer, fancier model. My commissions for the week were very nice. Very nice, indeed.



I pulled up to the Jacobson estate at exactly six. There was a big garage set away from the main house where, I assumed, they kept their coach. After I drove it back from Vancouver it had been serviced and cleaned and the service department had returned it to them. I knew they had money because they wrote a very substantial check for the coach; but their estate was spectacular.



I pulled up to the front of the house and a valet parked my car. Now I've been to six county fairs and a goat fucking but I had never had a valet park my car at a private residence.



I was directed through the house and to the backyard. There were about fifty people already there. Dottie saw me and hugged me and asked where my wife was. I explained that I was in the process of getting a divorce. She held me at arm's length and allowed as how my wife was an idiot. She then hugged my arm and led me toward the rest of the guests.



"Listen to me, Trey. When you are ready, I know of several nice young ladies who would love to meet someone like you."



She then introduced me to the other guests as a friend; not as the guy who sold them their coach. I knew that I was walking with some pretty big dogs in this crowd and that any 'nice young ladies' she would introduce me to would be way out of my league. I decided to stay for a just a short time and leave.



I had just finished a brisket sandwich and beer and was looking for Dottie and Robert to say goodbye when I saw Darla storm away from some guy. I hadn't known she was here, but probably should have assumed she would be. I had seen that look before and didn't want any part of it so I turned so she wouldn't see me.



Too late.



"Come on, Trey." She said, grabbing my arm. First Dottie and now Darla. This was a family of arm grabbers.



She led me inside to the library. The house had a fucking library!



"That guy is a fucking jerk. He said I had an attitude problem and needed help." I started to leave. "Where are you going?"



"Leaving before you kick me out because I agree with him."



" He didn't have to say it out loud and in front of people."



"Somebody should."



"Damn it, Trey. You need to be on my side."



"Why? The only civil words you've ever spoken to me were when you were lying in the street bleeding and probably delirious."



She plopped rather than sat.



I remained standing.



We never looked at each other.



"How's the arm?"



"It itches like hell under the cast. I have to carry this so I can scratch." She pulled what looked like a backscratcher out of the cast. It had tiny fingers so it would fit between the cast and her arm so she could reach the itchy spot. "I'll be glad when this thing is off." Indicating the cast.



"I have to go."



"Trey?"



"Yes."



"If I promise to behave, will you have dinner with me?"



After a short pause, I said. "Darla, I'm going through a divorce so I don't need any more stress and I'm afraid that I would do something to piss you off and make it worse. So I don't think dinner is a good idea."



I left.



Saturday morning my mother rang my doorbell. I let her in.



"Here's the deal. I have given it a lot of thought and I agree with you. There are some things that we should compromise on and some things we shouldn't. Fidelity in a marriage is on the 'not compromise' list. You reminded me of the absolute hell I went through with your father and nobody should have to do that. I apologize for even considering wanting you to take Jodie back. I was selfish in that I was just thinking about the baby and the possibility of having a grandchild. Please forgive me."



I did and we hugged. We chatted for another hour or so, hugged again and she left.



Mid-morning Monday my phone rang.



"Trey Taylor."



"Good morning Trey, this is Michael Hamilton. I have news." I don't know when he got on a first name basis with me but what the hell.



"What kind of news."



"Stan Morrison called and asked for his job back. They said no."



I laughed.



"Just thought you would like to know."



"Thank you, Michael." Now I'm on a first name basis with him.



Just before noon, the Jacobson's coach pulled into the yard and parked right in front of the building. I was with customers so couldn't go out and greet them but I was able to see it. I sat and talked with my prospects for at least thirty minutes and nobody came out of the coach. I escorted them out to their car and then went to the coach and rang the doorbell. Darla answered.



"Hi. Come in."



I stepped up into the coach. When you enter a coach like this, the door is right beside the passenger seat. There are generally three or four steps up into the coach. When you get to the top of the steps, you have to immediately turn left or you bump into the driver's seat. When the coach is moving and a passenger is in their seat the floor slides out to cover the steps so that their feet are on solid footing and not dangling in the stairwell.



Anyway, I stepped up into the coach and followed her to the living area.



"Have a seat."



I sat.



There was the wonderful smell of Lasagna coming from the oven. There were two glasses of wine on the kitchen counter. She handed me one of them and took the other for herself. She reached hers out to me indicating that we should 'clink' them. We did and we both took sips. It was a very nice Chianti.



I had said nothing up to this point.



She leaned back against the stove and jerked away from the heat. Then she moved a bit and leaned back against the counter.



She took a rather large gulp. "You said dinner was out but I figured lunch might be okay. I also thought I might embarrass or piss you off in public so I figured this might be a bit more private. I asked Grandma and Grandpa if I could use the coach and when I told them why, they thought it was a good idea. He just made me promise that I wouldn't drive back when I got pissed. Notice I said 'when' I got pissed not 'if'."



"He knows you pretty well, doesn't he?"



Instead of the expected red faced explosion, she took a rather large gulp of her Chianti. Her face was red-ish, but she didn't explode. I took a sip of mine.



She turned her back to me and stayed that way even after refilling her glass. I saw her take a deep breath and turn back to me.



"I hope you're hungry. I made it this morning. My Lasagna is really good even if I say it myself." She busied herself with the salad and garlic bread. I thought to myself that she was doing pretty well with a cast on one arm.



The doorbell rang.



"Would you get that, please?" I stood and walked to the dashboard and pressed the button. The door opened. My boss was standing there.



He looked up at me. "Everything all right."



I looked down at him. "So far." I said as I closed the door and returned to my seat and wine. I watched her putter around and it seemed that she was enjoying doing it. Her moves were natural so it was obvious she knew her way around a kitchen, even one as small as this.



I smiled; but only for a moment. I knew that one of us was going to do something to piss the other off. It was just a matter of time.



She told me to sit at the dining area table. I did. Generally speaking, in a coach which is 45 feet long and 8 ½ feet wide there is not a lot of room inside. The slideouts increased the width in the living area and bedroom to around 11 feet. The living room starts immediately behind the drivers and passengers seats. Then you have the dining and kitchen areas across from each other. Then the bathroom and shower and at the rear of the coach is the bedroom.



We ate and chatted and realized that we had finished the bottle of Chianti. I also realized that neither had pissed the other off.

<hr pg="5" />After a couple of hours, I decided I needed to go back to work.



"Darla, thank you. This was a pleasant surprise and the food was delicious."



"It was my pleasure."



I started for the door and she followed. I had taken a step down to leave.



"Trey?"



I turned my head to look at her. She leaned down and kissed me. Softly and tenderly. Neither of us knew who was more shocked.



There was a long pause as we just looked at each other.



"Is dinner still 'off the table'?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye.



"How about tonight?"



"Love to. Say 7:00?" That was just a few hours away.



She gave me her address and I started to leave. Again. But we kissed. Again. And again. It took me another ten minutes to leave.



When I finally stepped off the coach, I saw six faces looking at me through the Showroom window. My boss was one of them. When they saw I that I had seen them they all scattered...except my boss. He opened the door for me when I entered.



"Well?"



"I'm going home to get ready for a date tonight."



We laughed.



Ten minutes later Darla drove the coach off the lot.



I was on my way to her house when my phone rang.



"Trey Taylor."



"So, you managed not to kill each other, huh?"



"Hello, Dottie. I assume Robert is listening."



"You bet your bippy, I'm listening. We have already heard her story now we want to hear yours."



I laughed. "You know a gentleman never tells."



"Horse hockey."



"Hush, Robert. Trey, it was funny when she asked us to borrow the coach. She was nervous and didn't want to tell us why she wanted it, but Robert wouldn't let her have it unless she did. So she did. As she was telling us, she got excited and told us about the Lasagna she fixed. I asked her how she knew you liked Lasagna.'



" 'I just know, Grandma.' And she blushed, Trey. I've known that girl all her life and didn't know she knew how...but she actually blushed."



"Trey," piped up, Robert, "I don't believe I'm saying this, especially given that girl's shitty attitude..."



"Robert, watch your language."



"Yes, dear. Anyway, Trey, as far as I know, that girl has never done anything like this. She may piss me..."



"Robert!"



"I'm sorry. She may make me mad but she's still my granddaughter so you better treat her right. Do you understand?"



"Yes, sir, but I think you might be jumping the gun just a bit."



"Bull sh..., Sorry, Dottie."



"Trey, just don't hurt her. Okay? She has had some pretty rough experiences in her relationships. She is, as you know, very attractive and it seems that all her life men have tried to take advantage of her. It started back in high school and she has had trouble dealing with it. Unfortunately, her attitude is her defense mechanism and she uses it to avoid getting close to someone only to be disappointed by them. The problem is she can no longer distinguish friends from enemies. But it is only a façade. There's a nice girl in there some place. We just don't know how to find her." Said Dottie.



"I won't hurt her, Dottie...and Robert."



"Good." They said together.



"But have you asked her not to hurt me?" And we all laughed.



I had no sooner ended that call when my phone rang again.



"Trey Taylor."



"Trey, this is Judy."



Silence. I went from happy to pissed in an instant, but decided to hear her out.



"Are you still there?"



"What do you want, Judy?"



"I thought you should know that Jodie..."



"Stop right there. I don't want to hear anything about her."



"Trey, please. Just listen for a minute. Yesterday she kicked Stan out for having an affair. Earlier today he went back into the house and beat her up. She's in the hospital, Trey. Her nose is broken. He knocked her down and kicked her. She is in intensive care. And Stan is in Jail."



"What about her baby?"



"There isn't one. She lied about that to try to get you to take her back."



"Well, she certainly fooled my mother."



"She fooled us all, Trey."



"I'm sorry she's hurt, but it doesn't concern me anymore. And as far as I'm concerned Morrison can rot in jail."



"She's still your wife until the divorce is final."



"She stopped being my wife when she got in his car and she made it official when she signed the paperwork. Whatever happens in her life now has nothing to do with me. Good bye."



Darla lived in a gated community. After seeing her grandparent's estate that didn't come as any surprise; but the reaction of the guard at the gate did. When I told him who I was going to visit he started laughing. He was laughing when he called her to see if she was expecting me and he was still laughing as he opened the gate and I drove through.



Fifteen minutes later when we went through the gate on our way out he was on his phone and was still laughing.



I discovered that she was a meat and potatoes kind of girl. She ordered a medium rare rib eye steak with blue cheese butter and a baked potato. That's my kind of meal. I had a fleeting thought about how she was going to cut the steak with her arm in a cast, but that became a moot point because it just sat there while we looked at each other and grinned. It never dawned on me how ridiculous we looked until our waiter suggested he put our food in a doggie bag.



"I didn't know you had doggie bags here."



"There's a first time for everything." He said. We took the hint and left...without the doggie bags.



We stopped at Darla's security gate to key in the password and the same guard was there. Rather than laughing, he had a perplexed look on his face.



When we got to her house she invited me in.



"What would you like to drink?"



"Gin and tonic."



We sat and sipped not talking much.



Finally she stood and crossed to stand over me. I looked up at her. "Trey, I'm not too good at this. I haven't had a lot of experience so you're going to have to help me."



I put my glass down and stood. We kissed. Slowly and softly. I unbuttoned her blouse starting at the top. The blouse was still tucked in, so I pulled it out of her skirt and finished with the rest of the buttons. Then I pushed the blouse off her shoulders and it floated to the floor. I looked and her eyes were closed. She was breathing a bit quicker.



I could see her nipples trying to punch holes in her bra and they seemed to get bigger with each breath. I really wanted to take the bra off so I could see and touch what my imagination told me were perfect breasts... but I restrained myself.



I hadn't touched her for a few seconds so she opened her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes lowered to my chest as she saw that I was unbuttoning my shirt. She watched each button open and her eyes drifted down my chest. When the last button was open she reached over and spread my shirt so she could see my whole upper torso. I heard a slight whimper as her hands touched the hair she found on my chest and then a gasp as her lips locked on my left nipple and sucked.



She moved from left nipple to right nipple sucking harder each time she moved. My hands went to her skirt and fumbled with whatever was holding it together. After several seconds of fumbling, my impatience took over and I just jerked at it and shoved the skirt down over her hips. I was surprised to feel her tremble and then shake openly as her skirt fell away and she leaned against me moaning.



"Oh, god. Touch me somewhere...anywhere."



So my hands moved to her bra covered breasts and covered them pressing my palms against them and flattening them against her chest. More moaning as she moved her body up and down causing my hands to massage them. I could feel the hard nipples moving in my hands and I pinched them. I pinched them again only harder this time and her knees actually buckled. She put her hands on my arms and gripped them tight to hold herself up.



I reached up to the straps on her bra and slid them off her shoulders then reached for the front of the bra and literally jerked the cups off her breasts exposing them to me for the first time. She fell to her knees gasping for breath and buried her face in my crotch trying to bite my dick through my pants. She reached for my belt and struggled with unfastening it. In her haste, she found that the harder she tried the more difficult if was. I reached down and opened it. She jerked my pants down to my ankles taking my shorts with them. My dick literally bounced up and hit her chin. Her head moved back and my dick bounced again only this time she was ready for it and caught it in her mouth.



She said she didn't have a lot of experience, but neither had I. Up to now my dick had only been in one other mouth and that was Jodie's. It had also only been in one pussy... that, too, was Jodie's. My brain kicked in and a fleeting thought crossed my mind. The waiting period was not yet over for my divorce to be final so was I in the process of doing what Jodie had done?



It didn't take long for me to decide; she signed the papers so as far as I was concerned I was a single man and was going to enjoy this.



Limited experience or not, Darla certainly seemed to enjoy giving head. I pulled my hips back so that only the head of my dick was in her mouth. Then I did something I had never done before. I rammed my dick into her mouth and started to fuck her face. This wasn't love. It was lust; pure and simple. I fucked her face for a long time. Finally she put her hands on my hips and pushed me away gasping for air.



"Give me a minute to catch my breath."



I pulled her to her feet and held her for a long time then started to take her to the sofa where we could get some serious fucking done. I took a step and fell on my face. It seems you can't walk too well with your pants around your ankles.



Darla dropped to her knees beside me and started kissing me. Her hand went to my dick and started stroking it. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes just looking at each other.



I reached with both of my hands, pulled her face to mine and kissed her. Hard. While we were kissing she moved her body over mine and reached down to hold my dick as she lowered herself onto it.



I was fucking; or, rather, being fucked, by only my second pussy ever and I was in heaven. Our combined heat caused my dick to feel like it was on fire; and the friction created by her urgent up and down movements only made it hotter.



Our eyes locked on each other unblinking as we thrust at each other. I saw sweat forming on her brow as she fucked me. We were both desperate to cum but neither wanted to end so we slowed hoping to prolong the sensations we were creating. Eventually the inevitable happened and we reached the point of no return. We both exploded with the biggest most wonderful physical and emotional release known to humankind. Orgasm.



There were no screams, grunts or moans. Our eyes were still locked on each other as she lowered her torso so her breasts could rest on my chest. She moved her head so she could fully rest on me and we slept.



We were like that for about an hour. I have no idea how she managed it. I was comfortable, but she had to be miserable. My eyes opened when I felt her stir. She raised herself, put her hands on the floor on either side of my head.



"I think we should spend more time getting to like each other. Don't you?"



And we did. Two more times that night. At nine the next morning I called my boss and told him I wouldn't be in.



"Why?"



"I'm still on my date from last night." He laughed.



Darla and I took a shower together then ate breakfast. By noon we had fucked twice more. The last time was different from the others.



At one point she didn't just reach for my dick; she grabbed it. And when she kissed me; she jerked my head to her and crushed her lips on mine and she slammed her body against me.



The gentleness was gone. I sensed something else.



"But on those occasions when the partner, or environment, or events or even alcohol provide sufficient additional stimuli the sex can be out of this world. A slap on the ass, a tug on the hair or anything else out of the realm of what we call 'normal' can heighten the sexual experience considerably." That's what Judy had told me.



My hand went to the back of Darla's head. I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled. Her head jerked back and her eyes opened wide. She took a sharp intake of breath looked at me and smiled.



"Fuck me hard, you bastard."



And I did.

