TITLE    : Ripples in a Cuckolds Pond Ch. 07
STORYID  : ripples-in-a-cuckolds-pond-ch-07
SUMMARY  : An open marriage comes to an end.
AUTHOR   : JayCuck@lit
DATE     : 2016-06-03
CATEGORY : interracial-erotic-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cuckold|interracial|hotwife|bull|dom|submissive|cuck|girlfriend|affair|


<em>I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this series. I especially want to thank those of you who have emailed me and/or provided feedback. I really do appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this new direction.</em> 



<em>This series doesn't have as much sex as previous stories. The plot is becoming more complex and it's harder to work credible sex scenes into the storyline.</em> 



<em>Troll Alert (Trigger Warning - if you're so sensitive you need it): If you don't like cuckold/hotwife stories you won't like this one. Save your energy, righteous indignation, and ugly comments for another story.</em> 



***** 



"Enough!" 



The word came out harsher than I intended, but I wasn't about to apologize. Cassidy's eyes blazed with anger and frustration, and I knew I'd pay a serious bill later, but dammit, I didn't need to be coddled. Whether this was our first official fight, I wasn't sure, and truthfully, I didn't give a shit. 



She turned and walked around the car. "Stubborn, jerk!" 



"I'm a work in progress." 



My words hit her back, and she offered me a one-fingered salute over her shoulder. Maybe someday I'll figure out why I'm attracted to strong, smart women, but today was not that day. I shook my head, and slid behind the wheel. 



"I'm okay to drive!" I muttered under my breath. "Shit! Give me a break, woman." 



Cassidy flopped into the seat next to me, facing forward, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I heard that, and I offered to drive to be nice." 



"Look." I took a quick breath. "I'm okay. It was just a video. I'm fine." 



"Fine." 



"Fine." 



"Well. Mr. Fine." She motioned ahead of us. "Are you going to drive?" 



Part of me wanted to sit there, just to spite her, but another part of me remembered our sex. That part won. I started the engine. Just before I slid the car into drive, she covered my hand with hers. 



"You're just lucky I love you, mister." 



Three words. Three simple words. And my world suddenly became exponentially more complicated. 



Our eyes met. 



"I love you," she repeated. "Keep that in mind the next time you snap at me. Okay?" 



"Cassidy." 



My voice trailed off. Was I an asshole, because I didn't know what to say? I sure felt like it! 



"Drive." She motioned vaguely. "We'll talk later." 



Confused, irritated, and borderline-angry, I slid the car in to drive and left some rubber on the parking lot. I cooled my temper by the time we hit the access road though, and it was a good thing, because, well...you guessed it. 



Red and blue lights flashed behind me as I reached the first traffic light. 



Cassidy had been irritated before, but when that cop approached my car, she flew past angry and stopped at furious. I had a girlfriend who'd just announced she loved me, ready to eat a cop's ass and I suspected I'd wake up in jail tomorrow. Despite all the tension, and all drama in my life, my irreverent sense of humor decided to reared head. 



<em>Don't worry, Nick. White insurance guys are popular in prison!</em> 



My funny bone had been kicked, and I struggled to keep from laughing outright. I fought valiantly against the grin on my face, and fortunately, I won before the cop reached my window. It was the same officer who stopped me that morning. 



"Hello, officer." 



"The reason I stopped you today-." 



"Badge number!" My girlfriend didn't let him finish. 



His eyebrows rose above his aviator sunglasses. "Excuse me?" 



"No. I won't," she snapped. "I want your badge number. I want your patrol car number, and I want your commanding officer's name, and let me tell you-." 



My girlfriend was on a roll, and she punctuated each sentence with a pointed finger. I could almost see her anger building into a full-tilt, no-quarter-offered rant. A deep sigh left my chest, but I kept my hands on the steering wheel, because I didn't want to get shot 'by accident'. She was spouting something about something, but I couldn't keep track. I was too busy wondering what bunk I'd get in jail. 



My money was on the bottom. 



"Have a nice day." 



Those four words pierced my brain, and I glanced over to see the officer walking back to his car. "What the fuck?" 



Eyes still blazing, she watched him drive away before she responded. "Let's go." 



"Uhhh, okay." 



I merged back onto the access road, and caught the highway home. "You going to explain?" 



"You didn't hear me?" 



"Not so much." 



"Well." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I mentioned you have a dash cam, an attorney, and a witness to obvious police harassment." She squeezed my leg. "And I dropped a name or two." 



"A name or two?" 



"I was a bartender remember?" She kissed my cheek. "I met a lot of cops, and I may have dated a few." 



"Really." My voice was dry. "You don't say." 



"Okay, okay," she capitulated. "More than a few, but they were hot, I was young, and handcuffs can be a lot of fun." 



"Ummm, yeah. Too much information. I don't need to know about the hot guys you dated once." I squeezed her hand. "Thank you." 



"You're welcome." She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "They weren't all guys. Now, take me to your house, and fuck me silly." 



I couldn't help laughing, she was crazy, fun, and unbelievably sharp. Strong women, I've always been attracted to them, and Cassidy was exactly my type. As much as I wanted to get naked with her though, I remember something, and it threw cold water on my growing lust. 



"Nick?" 



"Sorry," I snapped my fingers. "We may have to pass on the sex." 



"Why?" 



"The schools are doing their annual testing, so it's an early-release day." I checked my watch. "They're probably home by now." 



"Cool. Let's do something fun." 



"Like what?" 



"I don't know. Dinner and a movie?" 



Her idea sounded good, really good, and I nodded. "Okay. We'll ask the girls." 



Traffic was light, and it wasn't long before we reached our neighborhood. I pointed my car at the entrance, but the guard on duty rushed out to meet me. Initially, I thought a subdivision with a guarded entrance was a bit much, but a few professional athletes lived in the same neighborhood, and I understood their need for extra security. 



Besides, it was kinda cool. 



"Nick!" 



John, the guard on duty, held up a hand and motioned for me to stop. A former cop, he didn't get excited easily, and I'd never seen him with anything but a smile on his face. 



"What's up?" 



"There are police at your house," he said. "A 911 call was placed from your address." 



"Shit!" 



I punched the accelerator, left rubber on the street, and John behind me, waving his hands to clear the smoke from my tires. 



"-ready called your attorney!" 



His voice trailed off, but I'd stopped listening. My knuckles turned white on the wheel, and a distant part of my brain registered Cassidy stiffening in her seat, and clutching her seat belt. 



I swung the car down our street. We didn't quite go up on two wheels, but I swear we pulled several G's on that turn. Stan must have seen me coming, because he burst out my front door at a sprint, and made several slowing motions with his hands. The tires screeched, and heads turned when I pulled the car to a stop. 



"-Down!" He reached the car just as I stepped out, and I felt his hands on my chest. "Calm down!" 



Cassidy grabbed my arms, and between them they kept me stationary. "My kids-." 



"Are safe," he said. "Now, calm down. You're not going any further unless I'm convinced your calm. Lose your temper here, and things will go rapidly downhill." 



"He's right, honey." 



My head jerked around, searching for my daughters. "I don't see them." 



"They're inside with the police. I left them to come out here." 



"You're sure they're okay?" 



"Yes," he stressed. His hands lifted off my chest, but stayed close, and he studied me for a moment. "You good?" 



"I'm good." I glanced at Cassidy, and she let my arm go. "I'm good. What happened?" 



"Ever hear of 'Swatting'?" 



"Fuckin' bullshit! I've never spanked my kids, Stan. I promise! Nicole and I used time-outs when they were young." 



Cassidy snickered, and Stan gave me an odd look. "Are you serious?" 



"Hell yes, I'm ser-." 



"He doesn't understand," she interrupted. "Explain it to him." 



My lawyer sighed. "Basically, someone convinced the emergency service computers that a 911 call had been placed from your address. No," he said before I could ask. "I don't know how. The police are inside, and they've been very polite. I've spoken with them, and everyone agrees it was a prank." 



"It's not fucking funny." 



"No. It isn't, and they're going to investigate." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Now, let's go see your girls." 



Y'know, I'd like to say I handled the situation like a man, a father in his forties, but truthfully, my eyes teared up when I pulled my girls into a hug. They were safe. In my world, and at that moment, that's all that counted. They had to reassure me several times they were okay, and eventually it sunk in. Stan handled the cops, which was great, because they asked about Nicole, and I had no idea how to answer. Cassidy received hugs as well, and once everything calmed down, she went upstairs with the girls, leaving me and Stan to talk. 



"How you holding up?" 



I sighed. "Better now. Thanks." 



"You're welcome." 



"No," I said. "I mean it. My daughters...well, just thanks." 



"I have kids, too. I get it." 



"Okay. So how did you get here so fast?" 



He didn't answer directly. "I understand the San Antonio police have taken an interest in you." 



"How?" 



"Cassidy." 



"Ahhh," I replied. "Yeah. I received a few tickets." 



"Which is why I was close by," he said. "I called your office, but they said you'd just left, so I came here. I beat you by about ten minutes." 



"Good thing, too." 



A wry smile crossed his face. "Luck of the Irish. Play the lottery later. Now." He held out his hand. "I want the tickets, and the footage from the dash cam." 



"Sure." 



We stepped out to the car, and I gave him the tickets. He handled the dash cam, because I had no idea how that thing worked. When we returned inside, I considered having a drink, but thought better of it. I didn't want my attorney thinking I had a drinking problem. 



"Our firm is setting up a meeting, and you need to attend." 



"A meeting? With who? When?" 



He shook his head. "Just clear your schedule when I call. It's important." 



"That's cryptic." 



"It's sensitive," he replied. "And the meeting participants aren't finalized yet, so I don't want to say anything further, but you remember I mentioned we have our own levers of influence?" 



"Yeah." 



"We're pulling on them." 



"Good to know." 



I walked him to the door, and we shook hands. "One final thing." 



"What's that?" 



"Change your locks," he said. "All of them. And do it immediately." 



"Shit. I hadn't thought of that." 



He shrugged. "It's probably nothing, but why take the chance. I'll talk to John on the way out. He's an old-pro, he knows what to do." 



"You're the man." 



"Just pay my bill." 



I laughed. "And then some." 



Stan was good people, but I wondered if he'd had a client stiff him or something, because he never failed to mention billing me for his services. We said goodbye, and I called a locksmith. Of course, there was an extra charge for immediate service, but there's no dollar sign on peace of mind. Yes, I swiped that line from a country music song. 



Nicole didn't answer when I called. No surprise, I left a message asking her to call me. I wasn't going to leave today's activities on a voice mail. 



A shiver of fear slid along my spine. 



What if my daughters had tried to reach Nicole? 



What if Stan hadn't been close? 



What if a tactical unit had responded, instead of patrol officers? 



What if my daughters had been shot? 



What if? 



*** 



The passage of time is constant. It's an immutable law of the universe. Our hunk of rock orbits a hot gassy star on a steady, predictable basis, and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it. Oh sure, humans like to think time speeds up or slows down depending on what's going on in our lives, but that's pure human narcissism. 



Days, hours, minutes, and seconds don't recognize us. We're beneath them. 



That's exactly how I felt about the thirty days of my open marriage. My life felt like it was spinning out of control. My grip was faltering, and I wished my thirty-day sentence would end already, but time refused to acknowledge the chaos in my life. Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, which morphed into hours, and there wasn't anything I could do to make them go by any faster. 



I couldn't control time, but I could control what I did with it. 



I wallowed in self-pity for five minutes. That's all I allowed myself. 



When my nickel of narcissism ended, I'd made some decisions. Only a week remained before our thirty-day nightmare was over, and I'd be damned if I'd spend it wallowing in self-pity. 



"Girls," I shouted. "How about we get out of here?" 



Three beautiful faces appeared, and stared down at me from the second floor. "Where we going?" 



"I don't know," I replied. "Where do you wanna go? You hungry?" 



"Starving!" April made a starving face. "We didn't get to each lunch." 



"Well, let's go then." 



Jasmine stepped closer to my girlfriend. "Cassidy's coming, right?" 



"Yeah, dad," April agreed. "She has to come." 



"You've been drafted," I said. 



"Not drafted," she said with a wink. "Lucky." 



When a person is starving, truly hungry, only one food item suffices. Pizza. It's a law. 



Our new favorite pizza place was just outside our neighborhood. What they did to the crust, we didn't know, but it was awesome. Since it was so close by, the locksmith stopped the restaurant and gave me my new house keys. We'd just finished our late lunch when my phone rang. 



I checked the display, and slid out of the booth. "Back in a second." 



This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have in front of the girls. 



"What is it, Nicole?" 



"Nick!" Worry tinged her voice. "Did you change the locks? My key doesn't work, and no one is answering the door. Where are the girls?" 



"The girls are with me, and I had the locks changed." 



"What?" 



"You heard me." 



"Why?" 



"Ask David." I paused. "And if he doesn't know, ask your parking-lot boyfriend." 



"What-the-fuck are you talking about-." 



"Just ask." 



I terminated the call, and turned my phone off. 



During my five minutes of self-pity, I realized something unpleasant. People in my life were taking me for granted, and the fault was mine. Simply put, I was too nice. <em>Nice</em> is great, but it has its limits, and police cruisers in front of my home drained the last bit of <em>nice</em> from my system. I'd more than held up my end of the thirty-day bargain, and what had it gotten me? 



Swatted. Whatever the fuck that meant. 



Nicole wasn't living at home anyway, so she didn't need keys. If she wanted to come home again, fine, she'd get a key, but until then she could shack up wherever, and with whoever, she pleased. At that moment, I couldn't have cared less. 



Cassidy glanced up when I returned. "Everything okay?" 



"Fine," I said, and meant it. "Great." 



"Dad. Can we see a movie?" 



"Of course. What were you thinking?" 



"DeadPool," Jasmine added quickly. 



"Yeah, no," I replied, almost before she stopped speaking. "No way." 



"Awww, c'mon, dad, I'm old enough." 



"You still need a parent, and I've heard about that movie. It' s not appropriate for your sister." 



I saw it coming. Jasmine's temper. She'd inherited it from her mom. It didn't show up often, but when she lost it, I usually had to duck and cover. The words were forming on her lips, when Cassidy jumped in. 



Brave woman. 



"I have an idea." The entire table turned their eyes on her. "Why don't Jasmine and I see DeadPool, and you and April can see something else." 



A surprised silence settled over the table. Jasmine mouthed 'thank you' to Cassidy who winked back. April looked up at me, a question on her face. 



"Umm, okay." My words were hesitant. "Fine with me. Okay with you, April?" 



"Yeah," she said eagerly. "I wanted to see Star Wars again anyway." 



"Great." Sarcasm dripped from my voice. "Harrison Ford...again." 



Cassidy slapped my shoulder, and April offered me a cute glare. Realizing I was again outnumbered, I smiled. "Let's go." 



My daughter and my girlfriend were bonding. Even I could see it. Cassidy and Jasmine got into a separate ticket line, and then went directly to their theater, and their heads were together the entire time. April wanted to go to the game room, so we hung out together killing zombie's and playing air hockey, before heading to our theater. 



Kids change so much as they grow, so it's hard to pigeon-hole them, but if pressed, I'd say April is my daughter, and Jasmine takes after her mother. I suspected that's why she was bonding with Cassidy right now. She was almost an adult, and despite what she claimed, Nicole hadn't been around lately. Also, Cassidy wasn't her mother, so I guessed she felt comfortable confiding in her. 



Star Wars is Star Wars. 



I remembered when the original came out in 1977, and I'd been hooked ever since. I'll always go see them, but truthfully, the latest edition wasn't that great. I know. I know. Those words are blasphemous, but c'mon, it was a re-make of the very first Star Wars movie. The storyline was exactly the same, except all the actors I'd grown up with now looked really old. Ugh! 



To finish the night, we went for ice cream. It was pretty cool. Weather was mild, and we sat outside. Jasmine talked about the movie, and blushed every time she mentioned Ryan Reynolds. Cassidy agreed it was good, and also agreed he was hot, which she whispered so April wouldn't hear. 



Good times. 



"Mind taking me home?" 



Cassidy asked just as we settled into my car. 



"Home?" April answered before me. "You're not coming over?" 



"I can't," she said. "I have to get up early." 



"But tomorrow's Saturday," she complained. 



My girlfriend laughed. "I know, but I still need to go home." 



"Okay." 



In the rear view mirror, I noticed Jasmine glancing between us, but after a few seconds, she nodded and faced the window. The drive to her apartment was quiet. How she managed to bond with my daughters so quickly was beyond me, but I sensed their disappointment. 



"Call me." 



"I will." 



"You two," she smiled at my girls. "Take care of this guy." 



April giggled. "We will." 



"It's a full time job," Jasmine added. 



Cassidy made a phone of her fingers, and then turned away. My daughters were with me, so I didn't stare at her amazing ass. We drove home talking about the movies and I resolved to watch DeadPool, because it sounded pretty cool. The street was empty, and so was my driveway. My new keys worked, and we stepped inside. 



The house felt...different. 



Something about having half a dozen police, and a lawyer show up and invade your home based on a hacked fucking phone call, made our home feel exposed. One glance at the girls and I could tell they felt the same. Their eyes met mine. 



"It's okay. We're safe." I motioned them to follow. "C'mon. Let's do a check of the house, and if you want, you can sleep in the game room." 



We checked the entire house...twice. Locked all the doors and windows. Our neighborhood security guy even stopped by, and made sure we were okay. John had briefed him on what happened, and he said he'd check on us throughout the night. 



Did it help? Yes. 



Did it make up for what happened? Not even close. 



Jasmine and April went upstairs, and I poured myself a drink. Alone now, my temper was rising. My girls had been placed in danger, and as far as I was concerned, my wife was at least partially to blame. A good amount of blame also rested on David's shoulders, and I wasn't about to let him off the hook either. The only question remaining was what to do about it. I'd just grabbed a cigar, when our home phone rang. 

<hr pg="2" />"Hello." 



"Nick. Cynthia." 



"Hey. What's up?" 



"Well, for starters, you'd already know if you answered your damn cell phone!" 



"Easy!" My temper moved to the starting line. "I turned it off." 



"Bad call." 



"Why?" 



"Nicole left." 



"What do you mean, she left? Where did she go?" 



"David's, I assume." 



"You don't know?" 



"Look," she snapped. "She came to my house, in tears by the way, and packed up her stuff. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, but there's only one place that makes sense." 



"So much for your house being neutral." 



"Screw you! This isn't my fault. Why'd you lock her out of her own damn house!" 



"I didn't," I snapped. "The fucking police showed up at our house this afternoon. Three fucking patrol cars!" 



"What!" 



"We were spanked." 



"Spanked?" She paused for a second. "Are you drunk?" 



"Swatted!" I half-shouted. "I meant swatted. We were swatted today." 



"Shit. Is everyone okay?" 



"Fine, but I had all the locks changed, and then I went to dinner with the girls. Nicole came home after we left and that's why her keys didn't work." 



"Who-?" 



"Gee," I interrupted, and the desert held more moisture than my voice. "I don't know. Who do you think?" 



"Not David." 



"If not him, then the guy she almost fucked in the parking lot." I took a breath. "It has to be one or the other." 



"You don't know that, you're guessing." 



"Maybe, but my money is on one or both." 



Cynthia was silent for several seconds, and I knew she agreed with me, but out of loyalty to Nicole she didn't want to say it. I heard her sigh. "Fine. Whatever. What about Nikki?" 



"What about her?" 



"Nick. You have to go after her." 



"No," I said with no small amount of satisfaction. "I don't. Nicole needs to deal with the consequences of her choices. If she wants to shack up with David, then I wish them well." 



"You're being a bastard. You know that?" 



"Maybe. But if I am, it's long overdue." 



"Men!" Frustration lined her voice. "Good night." 



I hung up without replying. 



<em>Bastard.</em> I nodded to myself. <em>Yep. It fits. Feels good too.</em> 



*** 



The phone rang again as soon as I put back in the cradle, and I cursed under my breath. My eyes glanced at the cigar lying on the counter. "It's a fuckin' conspiracy." 



I answered on the second ring without checking the caller ID. "What?" 



"Nick. It's David." 



"David." 



I didn't great him. I just said his name in the same tone as the medical machine that tracks heartbeats after someone dies. Flat-lined it, baby. And then I pushed a button on the phone. 



"Nicole is with me." 



"I gathered. Mind contacting Cynthia? She's worried." 



"And you're not?" 



"I'm not about to discuss my emotions with you. Goodnight." 



"Wait-." 



"What?" 



"I think she needs to stay with me," he said, and then added quickly. "Just until our thirty-day agreement is over." 



"Interesting." 



I didn't know how to respond, and I decided to play it cool. David liked the sound of his own voice, and I suspected he'd keep talking. Why not give him enough rope to hang himself? 



"It's not that she doesn't love you." He sighed. "She's just struggling to make sense of her life right now. I can help her." 



"I'm sure." 



I could almost feel his temper rising. "I'll keep you informed, and I'll also insist she stay in contact with her daughters." 



"Awful generous of you." 



"She'll need keys to the house." He ignored my response, and then emphasized. "Her house." 



"And when she decides she wants to live in her house, she'll get them." 



"What?" 



A vicious smile pulled my lips apart. "She doesn't live here. You just said so yourself. She doesn't need house keys, and since my family was recently victimized, I don't feel comfortable giving keys to someone who doesn't live in this house." I took a breath. "If Nicole wants to see her daughters, have her call me." 



"Don't do this." 



"David," I replied, and then took a quick breath. "I'm not doing anything other than looking out for the welfare of my daughters. That's it. Nicole is the one who has left, and I have strong suspicions her parking-lot boyfriend, and your personal friend, was behind the recent swatting at this address." 



Dead silence invaded the line. Whether he was surprised or not, I couldn't tell, but my gut told me he didn't know about the event today. At the same time however, I also got the sense it struck a chord with him, like he'd been reminded of something. 



"Goodnight." 



I replaced the phone, and hit the play button on our answering machine. Sure enough, our conversation was caught loud and clear. If recording him wasn't against the law, Stan might be able to use it. Or not. I didn't care. I snatched the cigar from the counter, grabbed a bottle of Scotch, and took it with me to the patio. I took my cell phone along, because I wanted to call Cassidy before I was too drunk to speak clearly. 



Yeah. It was that kind of night. 



"Hey." 



Her voice was sultry. "Hey back." 



"My life is imploding. I suggest you run away. Fast. In any direction." 



"No way, buster." She sighed into the phone. "Are you okay?" 



"Fine. Well, not fine, but holding it together anyway." 



"Good. And your girls?" 



"They're good. Disappointed you didn't come over." 



"I wanted too, but..." 



"But what?" 



"Honey, if things go bad between you and Nicole, I don't want to be used against you." 



"Little late for that, isn't it?" 



"Maybe, but we've limited our quality time," she emphasized her last two words. "To your office, and my apartment. If I stay over, then it's a whole different ball game." 



"Nicole left Cynthia's house tonight," I replied. "She's staying with David." 



"Seriously?" 



"Yes. He just called me." 



Several seconds of silence passed, before I heard her voice again. "I'll be right over." 



I chuckled. "Hurry." 



My girlfriend made it to our house in record time, so fast in fact, I was only halfway through my glass of scotch when a soft knock broke the silence. I opened the door to find her holding a trench coat tightly around her body, a small duffel bag at her feet, and a naughty smile playing across her lips. She held a finger across her lips. 



"Girls?" 



"Upstairs. In the game room." 



"Good." She grabbed the duffel, pushed past me, and went straight to the master bedroom. She glanced over her shoulder. "C'mon." 



My feet carried me forward, but it was my dick that was doing the thinking. I entered our bedroom already hard enough to cut diamonds. Cassidy crooked her finger, motioned me forward, and pointed at the bench at the end of our bed. 



"Sit." 



I locked the door, before I complied with her command. "Yes, ma'am." 



I sat in front of her, excited and nervous, like it was our first time together. Slowly, she bent from the waist until our lips met. A quick kiss, she moved her face to the side, and pressed her cheek against mine. 



"Sit on your hands." My hands slipped under my legs in a blur. "Good, boy. You take direction well." 



Sand coated my throat, and words became impossible, so I jerked a nod. 



Cassidy stepped back, and pulled her coat apart with a flourish. My chin dropped almost to the floor. My eyes bulged in my head, and rational thought fled from my mind. A vision, perfect in every possible way, stood before me. 



Rich, dark red fabric, lacy and beautiful, covered her body and contrasted nicely against her lightly tanned skin. Thigh high hose covered her perfect legs, and ended with a lacy top circling each thigh. Clear plastic heels, at least five inches in height, framed her perfect feet. My eyes devoured the sexy, erotic creature in front of me, descending downward until they reached a triangle of matching sheer fabric covering the gates of nirvana. 



"-lapdance?" 



Words. The beautiful creature spoke, but I'd missed it. I shook my head, and my blank expression must have given me away. Her eyes twinkled with humor, enjoying my reaction, and she ran a finger down my chest. Her nail dug in to my chest, through the fabric of my shirt, and I groaned lightly. 



"Ready for your lapdance?" 



"Ye-. Yes." 



An iPhone materialized from somewhere inside the trench coat, and slow sensual music filled the air. Where she put her phone, I don't know, because I couldn't take my eyes off her. She spun, putting her back to me, and her coat dropped from her shoulders, sliding with glacial speed down her back. It hovered over her ass for several seconds, with Cassidy smiling at me over her shoulder, before it finally dropped and settled in a puddle on the floor. The ass that greeted my eyes couldn't have been more perfect. 



Vendetta's had been declared. 



Bloody, family feuds started. 



Nations had gone to war over women far less beautiful than Cassidy! 



Knees flexed, her hips slid around in a circle, and she spun in place. The music grabbed hold of her, a sensuous embrace, that revealed the curves of her body in stark, breathtaking detail. I'd been to a strip club. I'd seen strippers before. They were kittens. Cassidy was a lion, a tiger, and a panther all rolled into one sexy, alluring creature. Effortless grace, and an easy rhythm outlined her movements, and I found myself mesmerized by her show. 



How long she danced in front of me, I don't know. I didn't care. I never wanted her to stop. My heart pounded in my chest, I grew light-headed, and had to focus on my breathing. A light scent of berries filled my nose when she danced close. So close. Inches separated us, but she didn't touch me. An artist, a master painter, she drew me in with vivid colors, but never let our bodies touch. Half-closed with lust, her eyes never left my face, and I found myself leaning towards her. 



"No." Warm flesh pressed against my forehead, and she pushed me back against the bed. She wagged a finger in my face. "I touch you." 



Without giving me a chance to respond, she mounted my lap, sliding her body forward, and grinding against me in a delicious, excruciating torture of hot, bare skin against a thin layer of clothing. Firm breasts slid over my face, pressing against my cheeks, and threatening to smother me in tanned flesh. Her fingers slid into my hair, sliding my face to the side, and pressed me against her chest. She pressed me against her, hard, and I heard her heart beating. 



When she released me, and leaned back, I thought I saw a tear sliding down her cheek, but she covered it easily by sliding a strap from her shoulder. First one, then after undulating on my chest enough for me to groan again, she slid the other from her shoulder. The fabric threatened to slid off her breasts, held in place it seemed, by her nipples. She saw where I was looking, and an evil smile slid across her lips. 



"See something you like?" 



"Yes." 



My response was hot, heavy, and primal, and she responded by pressing her lips against mine. Our tongues thrashed in our mouths, as lust and excitement coursed through our bodies. Somewhere in the pool of lust we'd dived into, she found a way to slip out of her lingerie. When I finally got a chance to see her body again, it was naked, save for her hose. Her hands slid over my chest, and her fingers worked on my shirt. She pulled my shirt off my body with a roughness that drew the breath from my lungs, before she knelt before me, and started working on my jeans. 



"Cock!" She breathed. "I need your cock!" 



The sharp zing of a zipper filled the air, and my cock answered her call. It sprang forth with no shame in its game. Cassidy wasn't content however, and she jerked my jeans from my legs, pulling until we were both naked. Her eyes traveled up my legs, pausing at my groin, before she raised her face, and met my eyes. Raw hunger washed over her face, before she mounted me. She positioned my cock, hesitated a moment, and then slammed her hips down. 



"Yes!" Her fierce whisper sliced between us. "Needed you." 



She did something with her hips, and jagged pleasure cut through my body. "Shit! That feels sensational." 



"Like that?" 



I couldn't talk, and settled for an affirmative grunt. She understood, and proceeded to fuck the ever-loving shit out of me. I'd like to say I helped. I'd love to say I displayed an awesome level of love-making skills. Neither would be true. My hands were still under my thighs. She was in control. 



Oh.My.God. 



It's not bragging, if you're good. Cassidy was beyond good. 



Our sex turned ragged, jagged, and raw. Lust, purely distilled and stronger than moonshine, melted our brains until we were just two bodies swimming in pleasure. Our breathing grew hoarse, and our moans and groans filled the air until razor sharp orgasms cut through our bodies. Despite our lack of control, we managed to cum together in a crescendo of wet flesh. 



We clung to each other, our flesh lightly covered in sweat, and the sound of our gasping filled the air. The pounding of our hearts synced together, and in that moment, we felt something pass between us. 



A joining, deep, powerful, and heartfelt. 



"I love you." 



"Love you, too." 



*** 



Cassidy stayed the night. 



But only after she'd put freshly washed sheets on the bed. 



Satisfied she'd removed any evidence of Nicole, she slid beneath the sheets, and pulled me in with her. We held each other for a long time, before our caresses turned deliberate, and the familiar stirrings of lust awakened. Soft, sensuous kisses started us off, and before long we were tangled in each other's arms. Our lovemaking this time was tender, soft, and deliciously intimate. I slid inside her, and both of us held back, taking our time, and prolonging the moment. Exquisite sex, not solely because it's physically enjoyable, but because it fills your soul with joy, until every cell in your body sings. That's what we shared, and when our orgasm finally came, they arrived with an all-consuming pleasure that left us powerless to move for several minutes. 



Afterward, she brushed several tears away. 



"That bad?" 



"What? No!" 



I sighed. "Right." 



"I'm happy, you dope. Just..." She pushed me gently, and wiped her eyes again. "Be a man, and go to sleep." 



So I did. I drifted off with her arm on my chest, and her body next to mine. My post-orgasm body relaxed, and slipped into blissful sleep, until the whiskey I'd consumed burned through my system leaving me wide awake at two am. I shifted onto my side, and stared at the woman sleeping next to me. Blond hair spilled across the pillow, gleaming under the moonlight that filtered through the windows, I couldn't take my eyes off it. 



On one hand, it didn't belong. I'd always slept next to raven black hair. 



On the other hand, I never wanted it to leave. 



My eyes slipped downward, enjoying the sweep of her curves, and drinking in the amazing body attached to the gorgeous blond hair. I resisted the urge to run my hands over the firm, warm flesh. I knew where that would end. I also knew Cassidy wouldn't object, in fact, she'd enjoy being woke from a sound sleep for sex. So different from Nicole, she approached sex with an almost overwhelming selflessness. It made me feel...valued, and my wife hadn't made me feel that way in a long time. Cassidy seemed too good to be true, and I wasn't sure I could trust my feelings. 



New sex isn't always good sex. It takes a few tries before two bodies really mesh and our natural awkwardness gives way to deep, erotic, awesome sex. I'd expected her to be tense, timid, and ultimately disappointed in our sex the first time. A one-time thing. Inevitably, she'd give me a patient smile, decline further sex, and let me know it was her...not me. I was a cuckold husband after all, my wife preferred to have another man fuck her. I wasn't man enough for Nicole, so how could I be man enough for Cassidy, especially since she was over a decade younger. No, I'd been prepared for my fling with her to end quickly. A painful reminder that some men were destined to be cuckolds. 



Surprisingly, the opposite happened. 



I couldn't have been more wrong, and I also hadn't realized how our relationship with David had affected my self-confidence until she pushed herself into my life. She'd overcome my reluctance with cheerful humor and persistence, and in the process, she'd weaved herself into my life. My daughters liked her, especially Jasmine, and as Nicole withdrew, Cassidy stepped into the void she left behind. She made me better, more confident, and I'd started to suspect that was the reason Nicole hated her so much. 



Anger built inside of me, because the more I considered it, the more it made sense. Nicole wanted me at home, taking care of the kids, so she could spend time with David. Anything that upset that balance threatened her, and I knew from long experience, when Nicole felt threatened she lashed out. I'd surrendered to her, rather than risk her anger, and my self-confidence had paid the price. My blind devotion to my wife and my marriage, prevented me from seeing the changes in my personality, but Cassidy had noticed. I suspected my daughters had too, and Jasmine's behavior certainly made more sense now. My business partners, Cynthia and Collin, certainly suspected something was wrong, and they were already trying to help. 



I slid out of bed, and padded into the living room. I picked a chair near a window, stared out at the night, and an icy realization washed over me sending involuntary shivers down my spine. There was only one person in my life who wasn't interested in being with me, and she definitely wasn't interested in saving our marriage. 



Nicole. 



Believe me, I didn't intend on being awake in the middle of the night, after mind-blowing sex with a beautiful woman, thinking about my wife and the fact that she didn't seem to give a shit about our marriage. A big part of me wanted to slip back under the covers, fall asleep next to a gorgeous woman, and forget everything that crossed my mind. Why make tough decisions today, when you can bury them under a beautiful body, killer smile, amazing sex, and put them off for tomorrow? Right? 



My problem? The big part of me was a chump. 



It always advocated for the easy decision, the path of least resistance, and I knew I couldn't trust it. The right decision, the painful decision, sat quietly in the corner, a quiet warrior who knew his presence was required, but regretted the destruction it would cause. The right decision. I sighed and beckoned it forward, laying a red carpet of bad choices for it to walk over. 



Allowing David into our lives. 



Forgiving Nicole and David for their miscommunication...lies? 



Believing Nicole when she told me not to worry. 



The parking lot fight. 



As painful as these incidents were to recount, I knew they were symptoms. The disease...well, the disease was me. I should've fought harder for my marriage. I should've told David to pound sand when he suggested thirty days of an open marriage. Our cuckold relationship was a disaster. It worked with Collin, but maybe he was a fluke? 



Did Nicole deserve the lion's share of the blame? Maybe. Probably. Here's the rub though, guess what happens in a vacuum? 



That's right. Nothing. 



A painter, no matter how talented, needs a canvas. A sculptor needs a medium, whether it's ice, wood, or clay. Peanut butter needs jelly, forks need knives, and a hotwife needs a cuckold husband. No one had forced me. I'd chosen this path willingly, happily, and I had to face the consequences of my decisions. I sighed, shifted in my chair, and ran my fingers through my hair. 



<em>Fuck!</em> 



Divorce. The word felt jagged, bitter in my head, and maybe it was the answer, but I wasn't ready to admit defeat. Nicole and I hadn't spoken more than a few words since the parking lot fight, and if we could sit and talk, maybe there was a chance we could reconcile. Possible? I guess, but truthfully, the more I considered her actions, the less it seemed like she wanted to reconcile with me. 

<hr pg="3" />"Hey, Mr. Man." Cassidy stood across the room, wearing one of my shirts, and looking entirely too sexy in it. A careful expression held sway on her face, and a tentativeness outlined her body. "You want company, or do you want to be alone?" 



"Company," I said, and motioned her over. "Please." 



She walked over, and slid onto my lap. "You're thinking heavy thoughts, I can tell." 



"Yes." 



"Wanna talk about it?" 



"No," I replied. "But I think I should." 



"I'm a big girl." She kissed my cheek and pressed her lips against my ear. "Tell me." 



Her warm breath coated my ear, and shot electricity through my body. She wasn't trying to seduce me, at least not yet, her words were tinged with sincerity, and I knew she genuinely wanted me to talk to her. 



"My marriage is...not in a good spot." I took a breath. "It's affecting my daughters, my work, and my friendships." 



She ran her fingers through my hair. "I noticed." 



"I'm not sure what do to about it. Nicole won't talk to me." I glanced up at her. "I don't want a divorce, but it's preferable to what's going on now. At the same time, I'm sick of being the one looking out for our marriage, especially since she doesn't seem to care." 



"Yeah. I get it." 



"And there's you," I said, as if she hadn't responded. "You're perfect. Beautiful, smart, funny, sexy, great with my kids, and despite my best efforts, you seem to actually like me." 



"I like you." She held her thumb and forefinger millimeters apart. "A little bit." 



"You're not helping," I deadpanned. 



"Honey," she began, and ran her hand over my chest. "Talk to your wife. You won't have any answers until you and Nicole sit down and talk to one another." 



"And if she won't?" 



She shrugged. "Then you'll have your answers." 



*** 



I drove to work alone, a solo mission, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess of work issues and personal life crap. My girlfriend left early, before the my daughters got up, and as she left, she gave me a curious glance. I couldn't interpret her expression, but I sensed something lurking beneath the surface. With no idea what to do, I decided to get some work done. 



Working on the weekend was something I'd always avoided, but that was before I became a business owner, and realized that you never really stop working when you work for yourself. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, just acknowledging a simple fact. Of course, now that a monstrous hedge fund was buying our business just to get Collin on their payroll, I realized I might not be working at all, and I wasn't sure how to deal with that little gem. 



I pulled into our company's parking lot. "Holy shit!" 



A Mercedes was parked in my parking spot. 



Nicole's Mercedes. My wife was sitting in the driver's seat. 



I parked next to her, and we exited our vehicle at the same time. Her eyes were hidden behind large, dark sunglasses, and while I couldn't read her expression, her body language was cool. No, not cool...frigid. 



"We need to talk." 



I nodded. "I agree." 



"Inside." She paused. "The conference room." 



"Fine." 



Why we couldn't talk in my office was beyond me, but it was a Saturday, so we'd have the same amount of privacy in the conference room. We didn't speak was we walked, and the click of her high heels sounded sharp, aggressive, and threatening. I held the door open for her, but she shook her head, and followed me in the building. Nicole went straight to the conference room, but I had other plans. I unlocked our offices, put my briefcase in my office, and turned on the coffee maker. There was no way I was going to speak to a hostile wife without coffee. 



Fortunately, our life-dispensing liquid machine worked super-fast, and I entered the conference room, coffee in hand, a few minutes later. 



"Coffee's ready, if you want some." 



"No, thank you." 



"Fine." I sat across from her, and set my coffee on the table. "Where do you want to start?" 



"Keys." She held her hand out. "Give me the keys to my home." 



"Are you coming back to live with your family?" 



"Give me the keys and I'll tell you." 



I fished the extra set out of my pocket, and slid them across the table. "Here." 



She pushed them into her purse, and then took off her glasses. Surprise washed over me, and I barely kept it off my face. Nicole's eyes were red and puffy underneath her expensive makeup. Most people probably wouldn't have noticed, but I'd been married to her too long to miss it. She'd been doing some crying...a lot of crying. 



"I'm coming home." 



"Is that what you want?" 



"Yes." 



She'd waited several seconds before responding, enough time for me to doubt her sincerity. "Really? Because you sure don't sound like you want to live with me, with our girls." 



"Do you blame me? After what you said. What you accused me of doing. What you called me?" Anger blazed in her eyes as she threw question after question at me. "How many women want to live with a man who calls them a prostitute. A whore." 



"How many women leave their husband sitting alone at a table to go make out in the parking lot with someone they just met?" 



"Fuck you!" 



"Not a chance, baby." 



She shook her head. "You're such an asshole." 



"Look," I said and motioned for calm. "What's done is done. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for a lot of things, but you're right, I shouldn't have said what I said." 



My apology took the anger from her eyes, and she took a breath, and visibly calmed down. After a minute, she nodded. "I'm sorry, too." 



"You sure you don't want a cup of coffee?" 



"Okay," she relented. 



When I returned, she looked more relaxed, and she offered me a fragile smile. "Thank you." 



"You're welcome." 



"David told me what happened. How're the girls?" 



I took a quick sip. "Better now. They were pretty scared at first, but they're much better." 



"Good." Silence hung in the air for several seconds. "David didn't have anything to do with it." 



"I figured." A stared at her for a second, waiting to see if she'd acknowledge the eight-hundred-pound pink elephant in the room. "And..." 



"I haven't spoken to him." 



It wasn't a direct answer, and her tone and body language were dodgy. "Haven't spoken to him, huh? Kinda weird, ain't it? I mean, he went to the hospital and everything." 



Okay. That last sentence was pure spite, but hey, it was true. 



"No." Her eyes dropped down. "David has talked to him." 



"Speaking of... How is David?" 



"Supportive," she said. "He's been very supportive." 



"Nice of him." 



Her eyes narrowed. "I've needed support, and I knew I wouldn't get it from my husband. He locked me out of my own home." 



"That's not true." I pointed a finger across the table. "You wouldn't speak with me." 



She wanted to argue, wanted to fight, and scratch, and cause pain. I could see it. But she took a breath, sat back in her chair, and waved her hand dismissively. "What's done is done," she said, throwing my words back at me. 



"I agree, but we do have a lot to discuss." 



"I'm coming home," she said. "What else is there?" 



"Gee, Nikki, I don't know, maybe your relationship with David." I paused, burned my tongue on a quick sip of coffee, and cursed silently. "It's over, I presume." 



"No," she said. "It's not." 



"What?" 



"I don't expect you to understand," she began. "But David is important to me, and I'm not giving him up." 



"Okay." I took a breath. "Why is David so important to you?" 



"You won't understand." 



"Really? Try me." 



She studied me for a few moments, before she seemed to accept I was sincere. "Fine. I'll explain." 



"Thank you." 



"Control," she started, and took a sip of coffee. "It starts with control." 



"I don't understand." 



"I've always taken control in our marriage...especially in the bedroom. You made the money, but most of the family decision-making was left to me." I started to object, but she held up a hand. "It's true, Nick. Maybe I'm overstating a little, but not much, and it's worked for us. I've enjoyed it." 



"I disagree," I said. "But continue." 



She took a breath. "When we started the relationship with Collin, and then with Cynthia, I was finally able to let someone else take control, and it felt amazing. I loved it when Collin was dominant with me. It felt...right. It was the same with Cyn, just not as powerful." 



"Okay." I shifted in my seat. "Go on." 



"David is even more dominant than Collin. He understands me, my submissiveness." 



She stopped speaking, as if that admission was enough, but I needed more. "And you need a dominant in your life?" 



"Yes," she said firmly. "I can see by your face you don't believe me, and I'm not going to justify myself, but I do." 



"Right. I'm just your husband." 



"Knock it off," she snapped. 



"It's just sex, Nikki. Damn. Enough already." 



"No." She shook her head. "It's more than sex. It's deeper, more fulfilling than simple sex." 



"What-?" 



"Faith," she said, snapped her fingers. "It's like faith. If you don't believe or understand, no amount of explanation will help you, and if you do believe, an explanation isn't necessary." 



"Huh." In a weird way, that made sense to me. 



"I need." She sighed and searched for the right word, before she gave up. "I need the kind of fulfillment only a dominant like David can provide. I know it sounds like I've joined a cult, or I've been brainwashed. I know it's only been a short time. I know everyone around me doesn't understand. I recognize all of that, but it makes sense to me, and David, and we're going to stay in each other's lives." 



I sat back, looked out the window, and reflected on the simple fact that this conversation sucked ass! Nicole sipped her coffee, strangely relaxed now that she'd sliced and diced our relationship. Is this how marriages end? A quiet, calm heart-wrenching conversation followed by long silences and awkward glances. 



"Nick," she whispered. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing," 



"What?" 



She reached over, and squeezed my arm. "I know you have submissive tendencies, and David is willing to serve as dominant for both of us. It would enhance our relationship, honey." A heated expression washed over her face. "It could be fun." 



"No." I paused meaningfully. "Hell no." 



"Why?" 



"What you're suggesting isn't a marriage, Nikki. It's an unhealthy brew of sex, power exchange, and reckless behavior. Our cuckold/hotwife thing was fun, a lot of fun, but I didn't lose you to it. I didn't lose you to Collin or Cynthia, and I don't trust David." I shook my head. "The words coming out of your mouth don't belong to the woman I've been married to for over a decade." 



Nicole rolled her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. David isn't interested in ending our marriage." 



"I've seen the video, Nikki." 



My wife stiffened in her seat, blood drained from her face, and her mouth dropped open. I expected her to be surprised, but her reaction went beyond simple surprise. Her breathing intensified, she ran her tongue over her lips, and I thought I saw her nipples harden under her blouse. She was shocked, and surprised, but thinking of that video also excited her, and I could almost see waves of lust rippling through her. 



"Oh." 



"That's it? Oh?" 



"What do you want me to say?" 



"I want an explanation." 



She shook her head, and took a sip of coffee. "You can't have one, you're not a member. What you saw was a teaser, a trailer, a recruiting video for possible new members. Unless you join, you can't know more." 



"Okay." I drew the word out. "Were you in the video? Were you in the room that night?" 



"No and no." 



"Good." Relief flooded my system. 



"But I wanted to be." Her voice was soft. 



"Why?" 



She shook her head. "Doesn't matter." 



"Matters to me." 



"I can't explain it, and even if I could, you'd hate my reasons. Let's just move on." She hesitated for a second. "Please." 



"Why did David show it to me?" 



Her shoulders moved slightly, not quite a shrug, but close. "He probably wanted to recruit you. Like I said, if you can accept him as a dominant, our lives would be more...interesting." 



I cocked my head. "I didn't see any white men in the video." 



"No," she said. "The jacks don't socialize. They have a...different role." 



"Jacks?" 



"Jacks of Spades," she said. "They're normally white men, cuckolds, who enjoy." Her lips pulled themselves into a smirk. "A variety of activities." 



"Are you a member?" She sipped her coffee. "Nikki?" 



"None of your business." 



"Jesus." I stood. "Who the fuck are you?" 



She stood as well, and pointed a finger at me. "I'm a submissive. A submissive who's found the perfect dominant, and for the first time in years, I feel safe, fulfilled, and happy." 



"You realize what you're saying?" 



"Yes. I mean every word." 



"Fine," I snapped. "Where does that leave us?" 



"I'm coming home. We'll live together in an open marriage until the thirty days is over, and then we'll discuss our futures in Vegas." 



I snorted. "Futures." 



"I still want to be married to you, Nick. I love you. I just need David in my life, too." She exhaled, stepped towards me, and put her hands on my chest. "Please. We can work this out, and I promise, you won't be unhappy." 



"If you have to make a choice? Between me and David? Between your boyfriend and your husband?" I paused meaningfully. "Between the man who has loved you since we recited our marriage vows, and the man who wants to use and dominate you? Who would you choose, Nikki?" 



A stranger met my eyes. 



We stared at each other without speaking. 



An awkward silence ensued. 



Nicole, the woman who called herself my wife, finally wrapped her arms around me in a chaste, friendly hug, and kissed me on the cheek. "I'll be home tonight." 



I didn't return the hug. 



Petty maybe, but fuck, I wasn't about to kiss and make up. Act like everything was okay. Truthfully, I didn't know how to act. Nicole was coming home, but what did that mean? Our thirty-day experiment with an open marriage would end soon, and I considered it a disaster, but Nicole and David probably thought it was an overwhelming success. We'd meet in Vegas to discuss our futures? 



Our futures? What the fuck? 



The conference room had a nice view of the Texas Hill Country, so I stared out the window. Nicole was coming home, but it was obvious she was doing it out of a sense of obligation. She wanted to stay married, but her ideas of a marriage had changed so drastically, I didn't recognize them. 



In her mind, what she offered was perfect. A dominant who received the lion share of her affection, and a roommate/husband who made the money and handled the kids. I saw her offer differently. I saw a woman who'd come home, and wreck our family in the process. Her blind devotion to David would wreak havoc in our daughters lives, and it would leave me with the moldy leftovers of our marriage. I shook my head, and sipped my lukewarm coffee. 



No. Nicole's behavior didn't make sense. Unless... 



An icy realization washed over me. Unless she didn't want to stay in our marriage. 



It wasn't an easy thought to hold onto. My wife, the mother of our daughters deserved better, but the analytical side of my brain wouldn't let it go, and I had to acknowledge the logic in it. Coming home sure would look better in front of a judge. If she was planning to surprise me with divorce papers, she'd want to clean up her behavior as much as possible. 



<em>Yeah, right!</em> I snorted and shook my head. <em>As if any of us can clean up our behavior.</em> 



I felt a great swell of pity for the judge who had to hear our divorce. It'd read like a steamy romance novel, or one of those wife-kills-husband shows on television. Nicole and I would both be tarnished. 



No, I doubted it would come to a courtroom divorce, and I suspected David didn't want that either. The happy couple would probably prefer a quiet, quickie divorce, where they took me for everything, and sailed off into the sunset. Or not. After what happened with his friend, he might want to humiliate me in open court, and in her current state of mind, I'm sure Nicole would spin a convincing tale of abuse at my hands. 



Fuck! I hated worst-case thinking. It sucked. But, I was good at it. No, scratch that, I was great at it. 



My personality, and my job, required constant planning, careful execution, and the flexibility to adjust on the move. Don't get me wrong, I have no experience with divorce, or the courts, but anticipating people's decisions and actions...well, that comes almost naturally. I let my mind wander for several minutes, considering and rejecting a multitude of potential actions and reactions, before I settled on the most probable set of events. None of them ended with Nicole and I going back to life before David, and only a few ended with Nicole and I staying married. Of course, my staying married meant Cassidy would be crushed. 



Throughout our discussion, and my contemplating future events, I'd deliberately kept myself from thinking about my girlfriend. My feelings would only cloud my thinking. Now that I'd started to consider possible outcomes, I had to include her. No, that's not correct, I <em>wanted</em> to include her. Throughout this whole mess, and even before it started with Cynthia and David, Cassidy had been on my side. She'd been respectful of my marriage, my daughters, and she accepted me without hesitation. Long story short, she acted more like a wife than Nicole. 



Could I go back to Nicole? Did I want to share my wife with David? 



*** 



True to her word, my wife came home on Sunday, and just as I suspected, it was awkward at best. We ate dinner, but exchanged few words. Nicole acted as though nothing had changed, but it was an act, and a poor one at that. Jasmine ate dinner, and disappeared into her bedroom. April sat talking with her mom, but their conversation was stilted, and I could tell my youngest wasn't sure what to make of her mother. 



Nicole hugged April one last time, before walking into our bedroom, and left me to clean up after dinner. I didn't say anything. It wasn't worth arguing over, and I retreated to my study after the kitchen was clean. I'd barely done any work at the office, so I booted up my computer, intent on getting a head start on my Monday. The first thing in my email bin was a note from Stan. A man of few words, told me to meet him for lunch, and gave me an address. Fortunately, I didn't have any meetings, so I let him know I'd be there. I managed to get through several emails before I was interrupted. 



"I thought you might be thirsty." Nicole's voice wafted into the room, and I found her standing in the door way holding a glass filled with amber liquid and ice cubes. "So I brought you a drink." 



Naked. Wearing only a smile, and the smile was positively evil. I hadn't seen my wife naked in...a long time, and she still looked unbelievably sexy. Her expression left no doubt she expected me to melt in her presence. I could remember a time when I would've done just that, and felt lucky for the opportunity. Raven black hair, hour glass figure, and the experience to use both. 



She was almost perfect. Almost. 



The spade tattoo and pierced nipples were stark reminders of David. 



"No, thank you." I kept my face blank, shook my head, and deliberately turned back to my computer. "You might want to put on a robe." 



My eyes were locked onto my computer screen, but I watched her out of my peripheral vision. She stood in the doorway, shocked at my behavior, and unsure what to do next. Silence exploded between us. Ice clinked in the glass. Finally, her shoulders fell, irritation lined her expression, and she stalked away. A sly, happy smile pulled my lips apart, and a visceral satisfaction surged through me. I wasn't a fucking dog. I don't come on command. I don't perform tricks for treats, and I damn sure don't roll over so she can scratch my belly. 

<hr pg="4" />Watching her frustrated, naked ass walk away did wonders for my self-confidence. 



I slept in my office, left early the next day, and didn't give my wife a second thought. Yes, she was home, but at the same time...no, she wasn't. Physically, she was in our house. She slept there. She ate there. Mentally however, my wife lived with David, and he was the eight-hundred-pound pink elephant in the room. It was painfully obvious, and until Nicole decided she wanted to actually live with us, she'd have to get used to sleeping alone. Whatever strategy her and David had cooked up, I wasn't playing along, and I wasn't about to let her manipulate me. 



"Morning, sunshine." I smiled at Cassidy's sleepy face. 



"Morning." A tired, but happy smile appeared, and she pulled me inside. "Get in here." 



"Yes, ma'am." 



The door closed behind me, and she wrapped me in a hug. Of course, she wore nothing under her t-shirt. I loved that about her. We stayed standing, holding each other, and enjoying the intimacy of the morning. Finally, she pulled back, ran a hand through her hair and narrowed her eyes at me. 



"Come over for a quickie before work?" 



"No." I shook my head. "A shower, and a change of clothes." 



"C'mon." She pulled her t-shirt over her head, tossed it to me, and walked towards the bathroom. My eyes locked onto her retreating body, and she glanced over her shoulder. "We can have sex in the shower." 



Barely a minute later, I stood behind her, my cock poised at the entrance to her pussy. 



She glanced over her shoulder. Sh"Don't be gentle." 



I shoved myself inside her, enjoying the sensation of dominance, and her soft whimper. She pushed back against me, seating me deeper, and reached back until she raked my hips with her nails. The pain gave me a light tinge of anger, and I used that to hammer her. Pressed against the wall, she moaned and writhed in pleasure, and let me have my way with her. Rough sex wasn't my normal game, but today, I enjoyed playing. Fast, deep thrusting caused my orgasm to build with savage intensity, and it wasn't long before my breathing became ragged. Without warning, she pushed me back, and slid to her knees. 



"On my chest!" 



Her words shocked my body with electric lust, and shivers took over my muscles, as cum burst from me. Somewhere in the roiling sea of pleasure, I lost control of my cock, but Cassidy's hands took over. She directed my spray over her chest. An earthy scent filled the shower. I glanced to see her smiling up at me, and she licked the tip of my cock, sending shivers through my body. 



"Tickles." 



She giggled. "I know." 



*** 



I love morning sex. Did I mention that already? 



My girlfriend had coffee waiting for me when I stepped into the kitchen, wearing a new suit she'd picked out. A blue suit, with understated blue pinstripes, it looked good, and I liked it. I could see by her eyes, she liked it on me as well. She handed me a cup of coffee, and kissed me softly. 



"You look handsome." 



"Thank you." 



"You surprised me," she said as she returned to the stove. "With Nicole back home, I wasn't sure if I'd see you anymore." 



"How'd you-." 



"Jasmine called me." 



"Ahhh." 



"It's okay." 



Her tone was light, but tension slid into her shoulders, and I could tell she was deliberately facing away from me as she spoke. I stepped forward, slid my arms over her shoulders, and nuzzled her neck. 



"Nicole is staying with me, but she isn't back. At least not in any way that matters." 



"What do you mean?" 



"My wife is insisting David remain a part of her life." I stepped back, and slid into a barstool so I could watch her cook. "She won't give him up, and it's obvious she sees me as a roommate, not a husband. She told me when our thirty-day open marriage trial is over, we can discuss our future together." 



"Nice of her," she observed dryly. 



"Yeah, I thought so, too." 



Cassidy managed eggs, toast and fruit for breakfast, and we moved to her little table. "When are you headed for Vegas?" 



"Don't you mean, when are we headed for Vegas." 



"No," she said quietly. "You." 



"You don't want to come?" 



"It doesn't matter what I want, honey." She squeezed my hand. "If I show up with you in Vegas, it'll give Nicole and David all the ammunition they need to make your life miserable." 



"That's bullshit," I snapped. "You're coming, and that's all there is to it." 



"Nick!" 



"Please?" I gave her my best sad, puppy-dog expression. "We'll have fun. I promise." 



She rolled her eyes, and shook her head, but didn't respond, and for a moment I thought she'd stick to her refusal. After a pair of seconds however, she laughed, and pointed a finger at me. "Promise we'll have fun!" 



"I promise," I said. "And you can even choose our agenda, entertainment, whatever!" 



She made a growling sound. "Sounds great!" 



"I'll make reservations today." 



"Hmmm, I like it when you take charge!" 



"You ain't seen nothing yet, baby!" 



We finished breakfast, and I left for work. Cassidy she needed time to get "beautified", her word, so I left before her. I checked my mirrors, but didn't see any patrol cars, so I guessed my period of police popularity had ended. As I drove, a smile kept pulling at my lips, and I knew why. Cassidy made me happy. After years of living a cuckold lifestyle with a woman who seemed to value getting laid above her husband, I felt desired. Such a simple feeling, it still touched me deeply, and it had been a long time since Nicole made me feel the same way. 



Nicole. As good as I felt, thoughts of my wife strangled my smile. Once upon a time, we'd had a strong marriage, at least I'd thought it was strong, but given our conversation, I started to wonder if she'd put up with me because she didn't know any better. I snorted, and shook my head. 



<em>Once you go black... Maybe the urban legend about black men is right after all.</em> 



Then again, I started to consider the possibility David made Nicole feel the same way Cassidy made me feel. Ugh! David made her happy. If that was the case, who was I to stand in the way of her happiness? 



Were jealousy and spite guiding my behavior? 



My car found its parking spot before I had an answer, but I resolved to <em>listen</em> to my wife the next time we talked. If she really would be happier with David... 



"Nick." Cynthia knocked on my window. "Quit yankin' on your chain, and get to work!" 



I opened the door. "I don't like you!" 



"Yes." She blew me a kiss. "You do." 



"Maybe." 



"How's that sexy wife of yours?" 



"She came home, but judging by your playfulness this morning, I'm betting you knew that already." 



"As long as she's away from David, I'm happy." 



I cocked my head. "You really don't like him, do you?" 



Her eyes went flat and met mine. "No." 



"Why?" 



We walked into the building, Cynthia leading the way, and she strode right into my office. My office, not hers, and she had the best view. She sat down on the couch Cassidy bought, and ran her hand over the luxurious leather. 



"I love Nikki," she stated. "David loves himself." 



"Yeah," I sighed. "But he makes her happy." 



"She's infatuated, not happy. There's a difference." 



I sat next to her. "I don't think Nikki would agree." 



Her eyes dropped. "Maybe." 



"What's on your mind, Cyn? I'm pretty sure you didn't come in here to talk about Nikki." 



"The buyout." 



"What about it?" 



"I've worked since I was sixteen. If this buyout goes through, I'm not sure what I'll do with myself. You, Nikki, and your daughters are my family, and I don't want to move my son again." 



"You'll make enough money on the buyout to do whatever you want. Why don't you travel?" 



"Alone?" 



"C'mon, Cyn. I have a hard time believing you can't find a travel partner." I chuckled. "Even if it's a short-term thing." 



"I had a travel partner. Your wife. David stole her from me." 



"Aha. Hence the real reason you don't like him." 



She gave me a sideward glance. "Guilty." 



"You can do anything," I said and squeezed her shoulder. "Buy a boutique. Coach cheerleading. Rent an office just to count your money." 



Cynthia scooted over, and rested her head against my shoulder. "Help me. Please." 



"Of course." I slid my arm around her shoulders. "How?" 



"I don't know. Figure out what's next. You're better at seeing around corners than me." 



We'd always been friends, Cynthia and I, even when she was dominating me, and pressing my face against her pussy. Our intimate time had ended, but the tender feelings hadn't, and even though she preferred women, we were still close. In a strange way, my wife had bonded us. A shared love of Nicole made us friends, and we both worked to make sure she was happy. Unfortunately, David had usurped our positions, and neither of us liked it. 



"Anything you need, Cyn. I'll always be here for you." 



"I know. That's what makes you such a good guy." 



A soft knock at the door was the only warning we had, before Cassidy opened the door a second later. Neither of us bothered to move. It would only make us look guilty of something that would never happen. 



My girlfriend cocked an eyebrow at Cynthia, and motioned towards us. "Are we getting naked? 'Cause this is kind of a fantasy of mine." 



Cynthia glanced at me appraisingly, and I removed my arm from her shoulders. "No." I waited a second. "Hell no." 



"C'mon, Nick," Cyn ran her hand over my thigh. "Live a little." 



I nudged her. "Stop." 



"Sorry." She winked at Cassidy. "I'm game, but your boy here is shy." 



"He's a work in progress," she replied. "I'm sure he'll come around." 



"Yeah, well." Cynthia stood and gave Cassidy a peck on the lips. "Good luck. He's all yours." 



She walked past my girlfriend, gave her ass a little pat, and glanced over her shoulder. "You kids have fun." 



Cassidy closed the door after her, and shot me a curious glance. "You think she was serious?" 



"No," I said. "She was playing with us. Cynthia is only into women." 



"You sure?" 



"Are you seriously asking me if my business partner is one hundred percent lesbian?" 



She giggled behind her hand. "Sorry. I guess not." 



"Thank you." 



"You and her...?" She trailed off. 



"Are friends, honey. Just friends." I cocked my head. "What about you and her?" 



A shy smile tugged at her lips. "We may have fooled around a bit." 



"Ahhh?" 



"Can you blame me? She's flippin' gorgeous." 



"No." I held up my hands. "No judgments here, and yes, she is gorgeous." 



Cassidy hiked up her skirt, straddled my lap, and kissed me. Her soft lips pressed against mine, and I inhaled her perfume deeply, loving the combined sensation of her firm body and alluring scent. When her tongue pushed its way into my mouth, I wanted nothing more than to descend into the pool of lust Cassidy created, and spend the day naked with his woman. 



"Wait!" I mumbled the word past her lips. "Cassidy, stop!" 



She pouted on my lap. "Awww." 



"Work. I have work to do, and a lunch meeting I can't miss." 



"You're no fun." 



She kissed me one last time, before she extracted herself from my lap, and smoothed her skirt. She her reflection in the window to make sure everything was back in the right place. I moved behind my desk, and stared openly at her. 



<em>Way out of my league.</em> 



A cross between Courtney Hansen and Sara Underwood, Cassidy should've been gracing the covers of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, or Vogue, or Cosmo, or Maxim. How she ended up loving me was a mystery, and despite my best efforts, she seemed intent on staying in my life. It struck me that I'd always thought the same about Nicole, and now I was losing her. Would I lose Cassidy eventually, too? 



"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice pierced my thoughts. "Your expression turned dark." 



"I was just wondering how long before you realize you can do better," I said quietly. 



She stopped looking at her reflection, and her body went still. "Why would you say something like that?" 



"Because it's true." 



"No. It's not, and it's not your decision. It's mine." Cassidy stepped around my desk, settled herself sideways on my lap, and slid her arms over my shoulders. "Honey, I knew you were special from the moment you sat across the bar from me. You remember?" 



I nodded, but didn't speak. 



"In a sea of players, and wannabe's, here was this genuine guy. Polite, soft-spoken, and sincere. You've never been a woman bartender, so you can't understand how rare guys like you are." 



"Well-." 



"Shhh, let me finish." Her finger crossed my lips. "And then when I met you again at Collin's party, I knew you were a great guy. It was obvious you were in a situation." Her fingers made quotations around the word situation. "But everyone has baggage of some kind or another. So, I did some research." 



"You what?" 



"Relax," she said. "I'm not a stalker. I just dropped a few questions, and got your name. LinkedIn is a great resource, by the way." 



"Aha," I said. "You didn't apply here by accident." 



She shrugged. "You had an opening that fit my experience. Do you regret hiring me?" 



"Not for a second." 



"See!" She patted my chest. "And you know what I found when I came to work here?" 



"A lecherous fuck, who takes advantage of his employees." 



"A smart, generous man with a bitch wife, great kids, and a complicated romantic life." 



"She's not a bitch." 



"Don't change the subject." She waved my statement away, and pulled on my tie. "You're the one I want. Not because you make a great living, but because of who you are, and how you treat people." 



"I'm older-." 



"We've discussed this already. Quit trying to sabotage what we have." 



"Sorry." 



"Feel better?" She teased. "Or do you need some more reassurance." 



"Hey," I protested. "Give me a break." 



"I'll give you more than that," she purred, and twisted in my lap. 



"Argh!! Work. Meeting." I smiled up at her. "Sex later." 



"Deal." 



*** 



Stan reserved a private room for lunch, and he wasn't alone. Two new faces greeted me when I entered. Stan introduced them, but my brain promptly forgot their names, because their titles hung in bright pink neon. 



Assistant District Attorney. Young guy, sharp expression with calculating eyes. 



Chief of Police. Older, experienced, and possessing no tolerance for bullshit. 



"Thanks for coming, Nick." 



"Welcome." 



"This is an off-the-record meeting," Stan began. "The gentleman here just wants to hear your accounting of events, starting with the fight, and then the interactions you've had with the police." 



"Umm, okay." 



"Relax," Stan said. "You're not under investigation." 



"Good to know." All eyes turned towards me. "Okay. Well...its starts with my wife and I having dinner." 



It wasn't an easy conversation, believe me. I glossed over some of the details, and fortunately, no one pressed me. The questions I received were straightforward, clarifying certain details, and limited to the police officers, and DeMarco. The ADA asked the most questions, and all of them focused on DeMarco. Finally, I'd said all there was to say, and answered their questions. 



Stan turned towards them. "Satisfied?" 



"Yeah," the chief said. "I'll handle my guys." 



"Let me know what you find out, Chief," the district attorney said. "I'll work with you on my side." 



"Sounds good." The chief faced me. "I want to apologize on behalf of the SAPD. The behavior of my officers was out of line." 



"Thanks," I replied. "Appreciate it." 



"Here." He handed me a card. "This is good up to a DUI, beyond that, I can't help you." 



"Wow. Thanks again." 



He nodded, stood, and shook hands with Stan. "Appreciate the way you handled this, Stan." 



"You're welcome." 



The chief left, and I gave my attorney a questioning glance. He shook his head, and nodded towards the ADA. "Anything else, counselor?" 



"What do you know about a guy named David..." 



I took a breath, not sure how much I should say. "I know him. He's a friend of the family, and I've heard he's a friend or mentor to DeMarco." 



"Really." He stopped taking notes, and cocked his head at me. "Where did you hear that?" 



My eyes held his, and I kept my face calm for a second and a half before I shrugged. "I don't remember." 



"Have you had any discussions with him about your confrontation with DeMarco?" 



"Yes." 



"How many?" 



"One," I replied. "The morning after." 



"Can you remember what you discussed?" 



"Word for word," I said, and smiled at him when he glanced up. "I recorded it." 



The ADA sat back in his chair, and studied me for a moment. "Where were you when you recorded your conversation?" 



"In my office." 



"I see." 



"No expectation of privacy," Stan mused. "Consent wouldn't even be a consideration." 



"Precedents are murky," he replied. "But I'm inclined to agree." 



"What's going on?" 



"I'd like that audio file," he replied. "And beyond that, I can't really say. If I need you for anything further, I'll contact your attorney." 



"Okay." 



We shook hands, and he left, leaving me and Stan alone. My attorney smiled at me. "Hungry?" 



"Starving." 



"Let's order. I'm buying." 



We ordered first, and once the waiter left, I fixed my eyes on my attorney. "What the hell?" 



"The guy whose ass you kicked is about to be dunked into a tank full of legal acid." He shook his head. "The police who harassed you?" 



"Yeah?" 



"They were friends of his. Apparently, he was a cop before he was an attorney, and he still had friends on the force. I'll be surprised if those guys aren't out of a job by tonight. The chief was pissed, and when I showed him the dash cams, I thought he'd have a coronary." 



"Why'd he give me his card?" 



"That was a thank you." 



"I don't understand. Thank you for what?" 



"For not suing," he said. "You wouldn't have gotten much money, but in the current environment, the publicity would have been horrible. I assured him we wouldn't file suit, if he'd make it go away, and show you some consideration in the future." 



"Ahh, gotcha." 



Our food came, and we paused our discussion until we were alone again. 



"What's going on with DeMarco and David." 



"Not sure," he replied. "It was the chief who brought the ADA into this conversation. I mentioned the Swatting incident and he insisted the ADA attend. They're working together on something, but they didn't say what it was." He took a bit of his sandwich, and waited until he swallowed to continue. "I know the ADA well, I'm his godfather, and I agreed to allow him in on our meeting." 



His answer was too glib, too rehearsed, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know, don't you? About DeMarco and David." 



"I don't know for certain," he said carefully. "I have my suspicions, but at this point, that's all they are, and I'm not going to share them." 



"What about me? My family?" 



He smiled. "You're all good. The chief will make sure you don't have any repeat visits. It's behind you now." 



"Thank you, Stan. I mean it." 



"My pleasure. Just-." 



"I know...pay your bill." 



"Actually, I was going to say, stay out of trouble." 



"Oh. Yeah, I'll do that too." 



A smile came and pasted itself on my face. I couldn't stop it, and truthfully, I didn't want it to leave. A weight had been lifted and I felt like celebrating. My first thoughts were of my daughters, but my second thought was of Cassidy. I wanted to celebrate with all of them. Nicole didn't come to mind until lunch was over, and then only obliquely. 



"You think David is in trouble?" 



Stan hesitated for several seconds. "I think you should limit the amount of time you spend with him. I know you said he's a friend of the family, but my professional recommendation is to find a new family friend." 



"For how long?" 

<hr pg="5" />He snorted. "Forever. And if anyone asks you about him, you have no comment. None. Nothing. Nada." 



"You think that's likely." 



"No idea." He shrugged. "Never hurts to be prepared, though." 



We parted with another handshake, and I drove back to the office. While I felt relieved, it was short-lived, because concerns about Nicole circled my head. If David was in trouble, my wife could become collateral damage. She wouldn't stop seeing him though, I knew it. If I told her about my lunch, she'd push for more answers, and I didn't have them. She wouldn't believe me of course, and that would only push her even further into David arms. Collin's warning about keeping the buyout secret also zipped through my brain. I didn't know if any of this was related, but the safest course of action in all cases was to keep my teeth together. 



I resolved to tell Cassidy and my daughters it was over, but I wouldn't share anything else. 



I'd add it to the list of things I kept to myself. 



And I fucking hate secrets. 



*** 



Nicole met me at the door when I came home. "Dinner's ready." 



"Wow." I smiled. "That's great. What's on the menu?" 



"Spaghetti." 



I forced a smile. "Awesome. I'll get changed, and meet you and girls at the table." 



"Great." 



She kissed my cheek, and walked towards the kitchen. My eyes followed her, and I tried to figure out what was different about her, and then it hit me. She was dressed like a mom. Her shorts were loose fitting, and her top was...well, normal. Gone was the aggressively sexy woman who traded on her gorgeous face, and hour-glass figure. Unable to figure out my wife, I turned toward the bedroom, and suppressed the grimace that threatened to take over my face. 



Nicole made lousy spaghetti. 



"Dad!" April hugged me when I returned to the kitchen. 



"Hey, sprout." I hugged her back. "How you doin?" 



"Great." 



Arms circled me from behind, and a head rested against my back. "Hey, dad." 



"How's it goin', kiddo?" 



"Good." She released her hold, and whispered. "I need to talk to you later." 



I nodded discreetly, and she sat back down at the table. In our house, spaghetti was a serve-yourself affair, so I spooned enough on my plate to prevent Nicole from feeling bad. She was sensitive about her cooking. When I sat down, I received smiles from all three of my girls. My wife's was plastic, fake, and designed to fool the girls. She reached over and squeezed my hand, another empty gesture. 



Nicole carried the conversation, awkwardly, and peppered the girls with questions. She should have known the answers already, a fact made plain by the girl's responses. I dug into her spaghetti, and immediately regretted it. Salty ketchup with soggy noodles. Worse, she used turkey meatballs, which despite being cooked in the sauce, were about as dry as the Sahara. I chewed and swallowed, and cast a longing glance at my liquor cabinet. 



"So girls," she said, as my mind returned to the table. "I'm going to a legal conference in Las Vegas tomorrow, and you'll need to keep your dad in-line for me. Okay?" 



I responded before the girls. "That's tomorrow?" 



"Yes," she emphasized. "Don't you remember? It lasts for a few days, and then we were going to spend the weekend in Vegas." 



The smile on her face set records for sweetness, but her eyes were blazing with heat. It was an unusual combination. 



"Right." I took a sip of tea. "Well, maybe I'll join you." 



She cocked her head. "Don't you have work?" 



"Nothing that can't be put off." 



"Well, don't neglect your clients on my behalf." 



"Oh, don't worry. I won't." I winked at her. "If you're busy, I'm sure I'll find something to do in Vegas." 



I'd surprised her, and it pissed her off, but she didn't want to show it in front of the girls. Whatever her game, she wanted them to remain in the dark. 



Her voice grew even more syrupy, her eyes narrowed and tension slid over the table like a thick mist. "Great." 



Jasmine sensed the mood, and demonstrated wisdom beyond her years by changing the subject. "You won't get us a baby-sitter will you, dad?" 



"No." I shook my head. "You're old enough to watch your sister, and I can trust you not to have visitors." I paused meaningfully. "Right?" 



She rolled her eyes. "Of course." 



"Thanks." 



Even though I'd barely touched the spaghetti, I was done eating, and I could tell the girls were finished as well. Since my wife had stuck me with the dishes last time, I thought turnabout was fair play. "Want help with the dishes?" 



"Uh." Her eyebrows rose for a second. "No. No. I'll do them." 



"Thanks, honey." 



I hit that last word hard, and took my plate to the sink. The girls quickly followed, and then disappeared upstairs, leaving me staring after them. I missed our family meals. Once upon a time, they'd been the highlight of my day. My daughters talked, laughed, and filled Nicole and I in on their lives, and it hurt to think those times were behind us. A casualty of our lifestyle. I'd tried to keep our daughters separate, but in hindsight, I knew that wasn't really possible. 



My thoughts inevitably turned toward my wife, and they soured quickly. Rather than risk a fight, I stalked into the bedroom, and opened my humidor. After I selected an illegal Cuban cigar courtesy of Gunter, I retrieved some scotch and headed out to the patio. I puffed angrily on my cigar, filling the air around my head with smoke. Blaming my wife was too easy, and I knew it. I owned at least fifty percent of this problem. I hadn't realized how much time had passed until Nicole's voice snapped me out of my pity party. 



"You can't avoid me." She sat down, a wine glass in her hands. "Our house isn't that big." 



"I thought you might like some space." 



"I'd like to talk," she said. "I'm sorry, I surprised you at dinner." 



"Why are you leaving so soon?" 



"David wants to spend the week in Vegas. He has a whole agenda picked out, and a group of his friends will be meeting us there." 



"I see." 



"Don't worry," she rushed to reassure me. "There is time in his schedule to discuss our next steps." 



"Gee, glad to hear that." 



"Nick, please. I don't want to fight." 



I sat straighter. "What do you want, Nikki? Do you even know?" 



"Yes." She met my eyes. "But now isn't the time. David and I have an early flight so I need to pack. We'll talk more in Vegas. I promise." 



She started to rise, but my voice stopped her. "Cassidy is joining me." 



"Really." 



"Yes." 



She sat back down. "Why am I not surprised?" 



"Why-?" 



"Conniving little bitch," she hissed. "She just wants you for your money." 



"I disagree. Why do you hate her so much?" 



"'Cause, she's just using you! And you're letting her, because she's young, and she throws her pussy at you." 



"And David?" I snapped back. "You're not leading with your pussy? Think he wants you for your brain?" 



She tossed her drink at my head. "Bastard." 



I'd seen it coming, so I jerked to the left and her wine sailed past me. "Are queens given an IQ test?" 



"Fine!" She ignored my jab, and stood. "Have your little slut come. It'll make things easier." 



"See you in Vegas." I called after her. 



"Fuckin' right you will." 



"Wait!" I stepped after her, and managed to catch her before she went inside. "I'm sorry." 



Anger flashed from her eyes, but my apology muted it. 



"I don't want you to leave like this." I held up my hands. "I'm not sure how we got so far off track, but Nikki." I took a breath. "We've shared too much for us to treat each other this way. I'm willing to wait for our discussion, but I want you to consider how good we've been together before you make any final decisions." 



"I'm sorry, too." Her eyes welled up with tears. "We have been good together. It's just..." 



"Just what?" 



She shook her head, wiped her eyes, and patted my chest. "I'll think about what you said. Thank you." 



We hugged each other, but our embrace held no intimacy. 



"Travel safe." 



"I will," she nodded. "You too." 



I offered her a smile, and she stepped inside. 



My cigar waited faithfully for me to return, and I puffed at a much more leisurely pace. Normally, I could predict my wife, years of marriage gave me that ability, but I had no idea what waited for me in Vegas. Nicole could hit me with divorce papers, or she could just as easily end it with David, and insist I do the same with Cassidy. Both forks in the path were fraught with challenges, and I wasn't sure how I'd react to either one. My brain flipped back and forth between outcomes, a really bad game of pong. 



"Hey, dad." Jasmine looked out from the patio door. "You done with your nasty cigar?" 



"Yep." I motioned her outside. "What's up?" 



She stepped towards me, and I couldn't help thinking how much she looked like her mother. As kids grow, they tend to move back and forth, one day looking like one parent, and another day they resembled the other parent. Lately, my oldest daughter had turned decidedly towards resembling her mother. My opinion was biased, but I thought she was just as pretty too, and based on the heads that turned when we went to the mall, I wasn't the only one. 



Jasmine sat, took a breath, and faced me. "I have a boyfriend." 



"Congrats." 



She shook her head. "I mean; I want to hav-. Wait, what?" 



A low chuckle blew out of me. "I said, congratulations." 



"You're not mad?" 



"No," I said. "Worried, nervous, anxious, and slightly irritated, but nowhere near mad. Surprised?" 



"Sort of. Yeah." She exhaled. "Wow. I know you said you were okay with it, but I still thought-." 



"I'd be pissed." 



"Well..." 



"No, honey. It's bittersweet when a daughter starts dating, but I'm happy for you." I sat up straighter. "Tell me about him." 



"Um." A blush colored her cheeks, and she glanced downward, searching for the right words. "He's an honor student. We have several AP classes together, and that's kinda how we got started." 



"That's a good beginning," I said. "Sports?" 



"Golf," she said with a nod and a smile. "He's really good, too. A couple of schools are already recruiting him." 



This sounded like a challenge. "Handicap." 



"It's small." Her blush deepened and she quickly clarified. "His handicap, I mean. Ummm, yeah, I don't really understand golf, but he said he had a good handicap." 



"Uh huh." I cocked my head at her. "Jas, anything you want to tell me?" 



"No!" She held up her hands. "Dad, no. Oh my god. It's not like that, I promise." 



"Mind keeping it that way?" I asked. "I'm fine with dating, but that's it, honey." 



"Yes." A wave of relief washed over her face. "Perfect. He's like super-focused on school anyway, so that's not a problem." 



"When can I meet him?" 



"That's the thing." She cleared her throat. "He wants to introduce himself, and ummm...sort of ask your permission." 



"Permission?" I chuckled. "Just dating, right? He's not going to ask for your hand in marriage?" 



"Dad!" She glared at me. "You're not funny." 



I held up my hands. "Sorry." 



"Will you make time," she said. "I mean, after your trip to Las Vegas?" 



"Yes." I smiled at her. "I will definitely make time." 



*** 



As she promised, Nicole left early. 



David arranged for a car to take her to the airport, not a limo, but one of those black sedans. 



I helped her with her bags, and stood in the driveway as her car drove away. 



She didn't look back.

